#you can't be rational about this

[bixels]

The idea that uni protesters are "elitist ivy-league rich kids larping as revolutionaries" on Twitter and Reddit and even here is so fucking funny to me if you actually know anything about the student bodies at these unis. Take it from someone who's going to one of the biggest private unis in the US, 80% of the peers I know are either from the suburbs or an apartment somewhere in America, children of immigrants, or here on a student visa. I've heard about one-percenter students, but I've never met one in person. Like, don't get me wrong, the institution as a whole is still very privileged and white. I've talked with friends and classmates about feeling weird or dissonant being here and coming from such a different background. But in my art program, I see BIPOC, disabled, queer, lower-income students and faculty trying to deconstruct and tear that down and make space every day. So to take a cursory glance at a crowd of student protesters in coalitions that are led by BIPOC & 1st/2nd-gen immigrant students and HQ'd in ethnic housings and student organizations and say, "ah. children of the elite." Get real.

[invinciblerodent]

Hitting the "not interested in this post" button over people's endless navel-gaze-y catastrophizing about how "discouraged" and "critical" they're feeling over Veilguard should be an Olympic sport, and brother, I'd bring home the gold

(thank you for the plethora of undodgeable, untagged spoilers btw, bunch of terminally pessimistic dicks)

[deservedgrace]

one of the more frustrating aspects of ex evangelical/ex cult stuff for me personally is how hard it is to talk about. and part of that is the emotional side of it, yeah it's a shitload of cumulative and compounding trauma and trauma is hard to talk about sometimes. but it's not always hard to talk about, or at least equally hard to talk about, and the thing that's honestly more frustrating to me about that is how... extensive it is, how impossible it is to give an accurate picture of what it was like, especially succinctly. there are so many things that you need context for. there's so much that doesn't really sound that bad unless you have other information. so much was normalized to me that i have a hard time knowing what's actually "normal" and what's "yikes" to other people because i simply don't always have the context for "normal". there's so much that's normalized in society and churches that gets dismissed as "normal" when it really, really shouldn't be. there's so much i just don't remember because it slipped out of my brain the same as "normal" unimportant memories because my brain didn't process it as abuse or traumatic at the time due to that lack of context of what "normal" is; it was normal to me and just what people did and how people acted and what people said. and the thing that happens is all of this compiles into me sounding like i'm exaggerating and whining about a "normal church experience" because it's just so impossible to describe how all-encompassing being in a cult is if you don't have that experience.

[triglycercule]

horror having crazy irrational thoughts about food,,,,, like bro thinks there's poison in the cupcakes. someone snuck razor blades into the bread and once he takes a bit it'll cut him up. somehow there's mold growing inside the bananas and when he eats it the mold colony is gonna start growing on HIM and then he'll become a moldy skeleton and oh god and oh god and he is paranoid but hes so hungry.... BUT WHAY ABOUT BUGS IN THR FOOD,,,, BUT HES HUNGRY.... a struggle it truly is

probably doesnt help that dust and killer could feed into it. killer could make off hand remarks on how he snuck razor blades into the meat horror's attempting to eat (to fuck around with horror. just some eeeever so slight psychological anguish. and also because killer would just be the type of casually carry those around. what for you may ask well decide for yourself) and then immediately horror's mood drops and he storms out of the dining room. dust and horror go on a sweet little picnic in a beautiful field and its all beautiful and inconspicuous but dust made the food and horror knows that look in his eyes. horror knows dust was muttering something about chemicals a day or 2 ago. the food is poisoned isnt it??? and dust just smiles and motions for horror to eat it

[lucienne-thee-librarian]

Okay but also because I'm a pedantic bitch...in relation to that post I just reblogged explaining part of gay-on-gay bigotry...what if some people are just assholes who happen to be gay, or bi or trans? And they're all for oppression or just plain cruelty as long as it's aimed at other people? Like that's also something to consider.

I don't actually think, any longer, that "internalized self-hate projected outward and also suppressed envy for someone who's doing and being all the things you were convinced into not allowing yourself" is...all there is to this phenonemon. And I wish we'd stop fixating on that quite so much just because we want to be frankly, nicer than some of these people have ever deserved. It's always more satisfying on some level, to imagine your enemies as Tortured deep inside (whether it's because you feel a bit malicious or you just want to believe that there's a way to reach out and heal them with kindness.) than to admit that Sometimes They're Just a Shithead.

Now, do I think that complex can be a big part of it? Oh yeah. And of COURSE, different people have different motivations in different amounts and yadda yadda yadda. No group of people, ethnic, gender, political or otherwise is a Monolith. (For one thing, when it comes to these Pick-Me Gay/Trans pundits and Influencers, money and clout should never be left out as an explanation. Just saying.) But that's the point, isn't it? Any ONE explanation can't explain them all completely.

Tbh, I think we need to consider some people are just bullies who happened to be born not cis or straight. And even if they were bullied at one point for their identity, they learned absolutely nothing from the experience except Don't Be On the Social Reject Side. So they moved their thinking just enough that "woman who likes women" "man who likes men" "I just happened o want to be a woman instead, or a man instead despite how I was born" could be put in the Safe category and they fight for that. Everyone else though, is still fair game and even a fair target. Some people don't just want power to escape oppression and live their lives in peace, they WANT to BE the ones oppressing. Like, do we ACTUALLY understand that LGBT people are humans too and that that includes the bad side?

It tracks a lot better too, when you consider that a lot of people like the masc4masc gays are openly racist and fatphobic. "No fems" Yes but also "No fats. No Asians." Christ, I could think of countless examples of white thin (and sometimes but not necessary cis) queer people doing that sort of thing. I'm sure y'all can too. This idea of some poor lost soul Tormented by Self Hate and Envy of the Freedom of Others doesn't do shit to explain that. Like, even if the two things coexist and they can, it doesn't explain that part.

I honestly just think the uglier but more accurate truth is that lot of queer people aren't all Hashtag Gay or Trans Rights or aren't Liberal out of any sense of justice AT ALL but only self-interest. Being an activist because you're a member of an oppressed group is like, entirely normal and fine of course BUT it becomes real clear when someone's framework of ethics and politics is PURELY "I think me (and people I personally like and approve of) being oppressed is bad" and literally not one inch deeper.

You can tell because if it was deeper, why would they find it so easy to turn around to a fellow queer/trans person to jeer at and humiliate and throw them under the bus if they think they're a Deadweight to the group by being a Weirdo I Don't Want to Stand Next to, Eww...or if they just don't personally like them? Why have you clearly spent absolutely no time unpacking any of the prejudice and biases around gender sexuality (or GOD FORBID race) that society throws at you.. at least no more time than it takes to rationalize yourself out of the category of Should Be Destroyed and Oppressed?

We are not immune from this sort of terminally self-interested activism. I just feel like we'd get a lot further as a society, as a community, if sometimes our analysis of bullies and assholes didn't fixate on finding some deep pain and trauma inside them, to explain their actions in a way that makes them look more tortured and less malicious (even if we say, even mean, that it's not supposed to be an excuse). Sometimes people are just racist, or fatphobic. Sometimes lesbians or gay men or bi or trans people just want to be judgmental bullies too.

Sometimes the reality isn't Tragic Villain Backstory. Sometimes, its just a selfish, deeply pathetic person refusing to become any less, because it's easier not to; even if you had a unique chance to see how the other side lives, a chance your straight cis bully peers didn't get by virtue of their identities.

[respectthepetty]

I started to watch Kiseki last week thanks to my dash. My original plan was to bingewatch it after it`s finished if it has a happy ending which might have been wiser. However I am obsessed with Ai Di and Chen Yi. I think it`s interesting that Chen Yi tells Ai Di that they have to be quiet during their first night because Ai Di would get angry if he heard. I am not sure how he wouldn`t recognise Ai Di even if he is drunk because they have always been together but that`s not the point. He clearly cares about Ai Di and doesn`t want to upset him. But how does he know that Ai Di would hear them? Has he heard Ai Di with another man and has he been mad? Even though he calls Ai Di brother at that point he seems awfully upset when Ai Di is with other men and drags him away from them.

Anon, you didn't know this when you sent it, but I am the wrong person to ask.

I'm stressed.

I'm spiraling.

I'm laying in a field of lavender trying to snort the stems in an attempt to chill the fuck out.

All because Kiseki: Dear to Me's finale is so close that I feel it, yet I'm terrified the scene we are all clinging to from the extended trailer is a fake-out, and we are about to be MODC-ed all over again.

If this doesn't make sense to you, GOOD! Stay innocent, anon. Three episodes ago, I was worried about the same thing as you, but here I am on the eve of the eve of the finale, and I can't bring myself to fathom the show will kill someone, even though IT ALREADY KILLED SOMEONE!

But if you do know what I'm writing about, Anon, HOW ARE YOU SO CALM RIGHT NOW?! At least calm enough to send me this ask on the eve of the eve of the finale?! How is Laws of Attraction the only show to know the value of a bulletproof vest unlike all these mafia BLs WHERE IT SHOULD BE A GIVEN?!

And you're just as cool as a caterpillar on a leaf. I'm the caterpillar in the cocoon dissolving into liquid mush freaking the fuck out about death and bulletproof vests, while you are munching on the good bits of this story. Teach. Me. Your. Ways. I'm over here praying to all the santos about a FICTIONAL CHARACTER! My ancestors are judging me right now. So is God.

So due to divine shade, I'll try to answer your question - Chen Yi admitted he was always jealous of Eddie being with other people which is why he was dragging Eddie's ass out of places, (so I can't imagine him being on your level of chill if he heard Eddie having sex with someone else), but Chen Yi didn't realize that it was jealously and possessiveness until Eddie was . . .

Until Eddie WASN'T THERE!

See, I'm already detouring again! Because what will Eddie do if Chen Yi ISN'T THERE?!

I don't care if this chick is Zhang Teng's sister avenging his death or just has a crush on Baker Boy. She is the sole female character, and as a feminist who supports female wrongs, if she is the shooter, Mortal Kombat "FINISH HER ASS"

I support the gays, the goths, and the girls, but in the words of a woman who got it, Jane Austen,

Had not my feelings decided against you, sus high school girlie— had they been indifferent, or had they even been favorable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the woman who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved menace?

She better have really gone to the dumpster to throw that glass she just conveniently broke and helps step in to save Chen Yi when she witnesses the shooting because if not . . .

"FUCK"

[crownedwille]

I've come to the conclusion that loving young royals doesn't mean I can't be critical about it, maybe especially bc I love the show so much I have such strong feelings about it, good and bad and I can love parts of canon and agree with it and appreciate it but I don't have to love it all. I have accepted that it's okay if I don't accept the ending and I don't have to force myself to support it. It's okay to not agree with all of canon and it's okay to not side with all of the creators' intentions/views. Loving a show doesn't mean you have to take everything the writers say on face value and that's the only version that is allowed to exist. Canon isn't everything and fandom is about curating your own experience that makes you happy and not miserable. You don't have to dismiss canon in every aspect and ignore it entirely, that's certainly not what I want but there is a fine line between being canon respectful, allowing some parts to exist and sometimes, yes, you just have to say "fuck canon" and move on for your own sanity and wellbeing

[vimbry]

"likes don't do anything" they do

"there's no algorithm" there is

"well nobody uses the for you tab" I do

"reblog all art and fics you see" there's no thought put into that. if this does work on people, then it's just pity engagement borne out of guilt rather than genuine interest, which is arguably worse than having none, because it's totally hollow.

[despair-tea]

one thing I dislike is the sophomoric idea that society should, naturally, move towards a completely genderless model. I get where it's coming from, but it assumes an impossible level of homogeneity rather than accepting that - in the infinity of genders that DO and WILL exist - there are some which will take familiar forms and patterns and names.

Like, look, I don't live in the androgynous future ze're imaging. But if I did I would still feel alienated and out-of-place in a slightly different way from the way I felt growing up under gendered capitalism. Because I'm not genderless, and I know damn well that I'd still feel some calling to change... something about myself. Even without words like "woman" or "witch."

It's a nice dream. it might be comforting to some. But it seems like an airy fantasy to me, and not one I can see myself living in.

Obviously I agree that the barriers between genders need to be broken down. Obviously I don't think the traditional gender roles as our society sells them to us are working. But the future I see has more kinds of people and not less.

[cookinguptales]

pmdd has you crying in bed like "and the fact that I cry for like three days every month is another reason why no one will ever love me!!!"

patently ridiculous illness

[suitmana]

father hans you are the best worst old man to me (yes more than old jochen). i love how the game tries to give him some depth without shying away from his actions

heavy discussion of the apostasy route ahead

so, yeah, he's very zealous in his religious beliefs.

but despite (or maybe because of) his strong convictions, he cares a lot for kieferberg, even if only out of moral obligation:

i mean, he has the decency to feel a little guilty about the supernatural terrors he puts the town through:

that very religious zeal, unfortunately, also makes him willing to have any of kieferberg's residents burnt at the stake for the sake of the town's "salvation". ironic, then, that in the same letter that he condemns walpurga's followers he starts with this:

his well-meaning, yet extremist religiosity is also apparent in his relationship with elise. even with the clear animosity on both sides, he was genuinely concerned for elise's soul after learning about how holle had her in the first place:

...as that concern later turns into condemnation:

yet he doesn't even word it as something he looks forward to either. just something unfortunate that needs to be done.

the way he tries to keep the peace throughout the game and is actually one of the more vocally skeptical among the townsfolk (even if part of that is to diffuse suspicion towards his own experiments) is also interesting considering how his religious beliefs enable him to do genuinely terrible things. like he believes that his god has no problems with him burning people alive but also he wants to be absolutely sure that there's an actual witch to burn in the first place. he is simultaneously the personification of everything wrong with kieferberg and one of the few (aside from gustav, leb, and freya) who are barely keeping the village together

[kanene-yaaay]

Focus (Or: The Unfortunate Destiny of Not Running Laps)

(Don't forget to read the warnings, they are v important!)

Kanene's notes: I am here to call out RUOYE!! BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE FIC IS FRUIT OF ITS SMUGNESS WHILE CAPTURING LANG QIANQIU IN THE FOREST. Like for REAL it just stopped, looked at him all :] and then captured him like jhgfdfgh pls stop being so silly it's killing me.

Warnings: This is a tickle fic and is basically an AU based in the idea I had in this post. Long short story with no spoilers: Xie Lian decided to tell the truth sooner to Lang Qianqiu and the boy had time to deal with his feelings and their relationship didn't become too strained, even if they parted ways. Another modification here is that the nameless boy that is always by LQQ side is called Xiao Mengyou, like I've seen he be called in the fandom. Besides that, nothing more! There's brief light bondage (thank u Ruoye) and some feet tickling during lqq's revenge, in case u don't like that. But it's the famous fluff with light angst, tickle fights and lot of silliness. Around 6.500 words.

[~*~]

Lang Quianqui discreetly managed to take in a deep breath, eyes glued on his preceptor, body unconsciously falling into the defensive stance that has been taught to him for years. It was hard to keep himself still. His entire being was thrilling with energy, an adrenaline that had not dissipated since he woke up and realized what day was today. The energy had fed his mind and body constantly as he fell along the main forms and drills they’ve been covering since the start of the day, over and over, each correction of Fang Xin over his posture and handle of sword only serving to make him buzz even more with nerves and the wish to impress him, trying harder and harder to focus until his movements went from stiff and tense to fluid and natural, striving for perfection.

Attentive eyes watched him like a hawk, more staring than normal, looking for something that Lang Qianqiu didn’t know if he was hiding well. It made him grip the handle of his sword more firmly and his movements quicker. The prince didn’t know if it was just his imagination, and the mask didn’t really help in his analyzes, but he could swear that he saw his mentor’s face glimpse into a confused frown as he accidentally kept stammering clumsily through the stances that he had already mastered a few months ago, even being on his best today barely reached the excellency he had every other good day. Still, he continued to strive for perfection.

Training with Fang Xin was… incredible. In the last year exactly, for the first time since he was only a kid receiving his first wooden sword, Lang Quianqui felt excited to go train, never once getting bored during the lectures, never going through his lessons unchallenged, each and every teaching pushing him to through his limits in a way that left him thoughtful and expectant to expand them even further, see how far he could get. His Guoshi had a different method of teaching and after his parents saw his improvement after a few months into his classes, together with his clear joy in having them, they gave the adult free reign of his studies, changing his routine as much as he needed, as long as it didn’t harm his other responsibilities. They supported them with materials and rooms as necessary and always listened with proud smiles when Lang Quianqui went to ramble to them all they had done and accomplished that day.

Fang Xin valued both the training of his mind and body, much to Lang Quianqui chagrin, especially as he kept dishing out writing punishments and calligraphy exercises that would leave him grumbling about missing the better days with old teachers who would simply have him running laps for slipping into quick naps during their lessons. Usually such commentaries only resulted in more writing and longer punishments, when Fang Xin listened to it. In the end, it was fine. After the initial glooming and pouting, he got to realize how the books that he had to copy always proved to be interesting, challenging his mind with stories and theories he hadn’t thought about before and giving him even more ideas to share with his teacher later, who always listened to him carefully, - even with an ever-lasting air of satisfaction that brought a smug glint in his eyes and a pleased hum in his words - no matter how long he spent in his musings, prodding him with questions and small lectures until he arrived to conclusions that would make the adult nod in a hidden pride, or at least, he hoped so.  

It was no surprise to him to find excitement and anticipation in his mind for each class,  wondering what would be the main skill trained today. If they would focus in his flexibility and quick thinking to get the upper hand into surprise attacks and uneven grounds (his mother almost had an heart attack when he fell out of the roof and broke her window with an accidental kick) or his ability to coordinate planned attacks with strong strategies that would exploit his opponent’s weakness and entice his own strengths.

For today, as it seems, they were going to stick with spars and practical learning. It was probably good, with how many mistakes he had already made just during the warming up and how distracted he was today, waiting impatiently for the end of the class. Having a close range exercise that would force him to focus unless he wanted to explain to his preceptor why his mind was flying away, a dangerous but not impossible possibility, was very good, especially because he wouldn’t be able to respond his teacher if he asked and Fang Xin would immediately catch his lies or any attempt to stir the topic away and he really, really couldn’t risk to get any punishments today. 

Afterall, Fag Xin Guoshi probably was already extremely displeased with his performance. Even if he was too polite to show. Lang Qianqiu gritted his teeth and embraced himself. 

There will be no more mistakes from now on. He will do his best!

They circled each other for a few seconds before the buzzing energy became stronger than him and Lang Quianqui jumped in his direction, starting the fight. He feinted an attack on the teacher’s right, jumping away from his defense and immediately falling into another attack. Just like the first blow, this one was quickly blocked and the crown prince was pushed to the side, Fang Xin’s blade pressing against his sword with such a strength that Lang Quianqui had no other option but to start backing up before the sword was pushed to his throat, trying to at least stabilize himself.

“Concentrate on your footwork.” Fang Xin chided, his voice even and calm as always, showing no hint of strain. The arm that was not holding his weapon was curled on his back and he didn’t move a single step in his direction. Lang Qianqiu was sure that if he glanced at his forehead, there would be no sweat. He, on the other side, could feel his breath already beginning to speed, arms trembling as he tried to not be overpowered. “There is always going to be someone stronger and taller than you during war and you can’t afford to lose. Don’t try to outstrength them because you won’t. Prioritize your speed and versatility.”

“Right!” Lang Qianqiu agreed, immediately dropping himself to the ground, the preceptor's sword passing with a quick gush of wind just inches from his face as he tried to trip the other, rolling around and quickly jumping to straight himself again when more attacks went in his direction.

Fang Xin pivoted around the same spot as the young prince sprinted and threw himself at him in a mix of misleading attacks that attempted to both pull his attention elsewhere and open his guard. Extra, even if rare, punches and kicks tried to make him lose his balance. It’s been exactly one year, yet Qianqiu hasn't been able to make him move around the arena one bit.

A sudden kick going to his face made the boy yelp and twirl to his left, only to almost get a sword going right to his flank, but blocking it with his blade at the last moment. 

“Focus.” His teacher remarked, starting a series of strikes aiming for his torso. “Pull your sword closer to your body. You’re paying too much attention in protecting your face and not losing your stance that it leaves your entire flank unprotected.” 

As if to prove his own words, his blade quickly aimed to his face, only to be immediately pushed away in a move that wobbled the other’s grip on the handle. Before the prince could explore that, however, Fang Xin speedly twisted and turned his attack back to his sides. Again, Qianqiu almost didn’t manage to rotate his long blade enough to catch it, being pushed away as the sound of metal scraping metal filled the training grounds. “Keep on rolling and jumping, if you must, just do not lose your balance and attention to your surroundings.” 

He striked again and, following his words, the young one threw himself on the ground and rolled away. Panting as he straightened himself, he watched his preceptor, reading his sword.

Before he decided to attack, Lang Qianqiu went first, deciding to just make his moves up as he goes. He jumped and twisted, aiming for the neck. He watched as the adult glided aside with an effortless grace and turned to block the blow, pushing the blades upwards, weakening his grip on the sword at an alarming speed. The thought of using their closeness to kick him away had just crossed his mind when a purple and white blur appeared right by his sides and-

He jumped away with a squeal, his lips being pulled in an unexpected smile, hand running to cover his ribs, skin still tingling.

What was that! 

He turned around, pulling his sword even closer, face red from the embarrassing sound that just escaped from his mouth without his permission. 

Someone had just tickled him! 

Still reeling with the sudden bust of energy and tickly sensation, his eyes immediately stopped at Guoshi, staring at him warily, but being only answered with the same calmness and collectedness that always filled his every action and words.

Maybe was it him who…?

“Do not charge right back in without correcting your mistakes and very much less without a plan.” Fang Xin went back to his initial stance, one hand holding his sword and the other resting calmly on his back. His posture had no flaws, his lips held no grinning smiles and his voice got no playful cadence that betrayed his serious tune. “Remember what I said, use your speed and versatility. Ready?”

…No, it couldn’t be him. The imperial preceptor would never step down to do something as silly and childish as tickling. He probably imagined it? 

Once more, he watched his surroundings with narrowed, attentive eyes. Maybe it was…

There he was.

Behind him, on the other side of the arena, his friend smiled at him. Lang Quianqiu shuddered in alarm. 

Since a couple weeks ago, when Qianqiu had used the other’s distraction to unleash a playful surprise tickle attack on him, Xiao Mengyou had been using his every opportunity to tickle him senseless back, going even further as to wait the end of his last martial class - when he usually laid on the cold ground to get his breath back - to immediately attack him with pokes and wiggling fingers the very moment Fang Xin Guoshi turned his back and pretended to not hear them fooling around, leaving the prince giggling and squirming until he was tired enough to not immediately get him back as revenge. 

(Too lost in their own game, none of them noticed the initial moment, when the adult turned back promptly at the squeal of the prince, ready to defend, only to stop and smile amusedly at the joyful friends in front of him, leaving them be and enjoy their own playfulness. There was a deep melancholy pooling in his eyes in that evening.)

Seeing that the attention was still on him, Mengyou made a walking motion with his fingers on his palm and then a thumbs up. Lang Qianqiu felt his eyes wide and he took a wobbly step backwards.

Did he just… confirm that he was the one who tickled him?

Watching his face, Xiao Mengyou smiled a tiny grin and nodded.

Lang Qianqiu bristled and started to head into his direction with firm steps. Mengyou frowned and tilted his head to the side, in apparent confusion.

“Lang Qianqiu.” The crown prince automatically froze with the clear commanding tune on the other’s voice, posture straight as he turned around to his teacher, suddenly remembering that they weren’t alone in the arena. 

“Your lesson is not over, yet. Focus.” His Guoshi seemed more amused than annoyed, though. Lang Qianqiu internally exhaled in relief. How embarrassing, his mind was really all over the place today. “Let’s start again.”

Nodding, the younger one went back to his stance, eying his opponent before charging straight in. He swore he listened to Fang Xin huff in exasperation, but the sound of blades colliding resonated louder and quickly pulled his attention back to the spar.

This time it took longer before he got distracted and another poke attacked his armpit as he tried to push his teacher’s hand out of his sword’s handle. He squeaked and jumped backwards, quickly scurrying away as Guoshi’s blade followed him without a rest.

And so, the onslaught of brief, equally light and impossible to ignore, tickly touches kept following him.

A prodding on his side and a loud yelp.

Another poke on his belly and a wheezy snort.

A tickle across his entire spine that made him jump and almost lost track of his teacher.

A scribbling on the back of his neck that pulled a couple of giggles out of his throat and sealed that silly, wobbly smile forever in his face.

All through this, he kept his fight. The adrenaline of waiting for another tickle attack and the wish of stop being so childish, giggling and squirming in front of the person he looked up the most, made him the most focused he has been the entire day, falling and rolling and charging blow after blow, fuelled by the bolts of electricity that ran across his meridians every time he saw a blur of white and purple in his peripheral vision and felt titters bouncing in his throat long before the ticklish feeling even touched him, descending in chuckles and huffs of laughter as he managed to escape another playful attack.

He had just managed to run right behind Fang Xin in an attempt for a surprise attack, when he felt something latch on the back of his robes, scurrying across his neck and jumping in between his articles of clothes. There was no escaping from the loud, surprised shriek that ran from his throat the moment he felt the tickles dig in his armpits, making both of his hands lock on the handle of his sword and his arms to clue to his sides, the attempt of protection being too late to stop the soft - so extremely, absurdly soft - sensation that ran up and down his pits, prodding and drumming and pulling hysterical giggle after hysterical giggle from him. His legs stumbled and his shoulders bounced with the energy and need to squirm away, but he kept his stance. 

The tickling traveled to his back, scribbling freely on his ribs and poking incessantly his spine until the young prince gave up from his form and turned around in pursue of his attacker, eyes closed from laughter, trying to push whoever was targeting his shoulderblades with so much wiggling and scratching away. His cheeks were in flames with the way squeaky hiccups began appearing in between his crackles.

He tried to open his eyes to better escape and fight his revenge, but there was already tears blurring his vision and, the moment he felt that soft touch worming its way to his sides, all he could do was sheath his sword and swing it around blindly, ignoring how silly he must been looking (he would never forgive himself if he cut Xiao Mengyou by mistake). 

Strings of “no, no, no, let go!” fell in waterfalls from his mouth, yet they did nothing to stop his sides from being lavished in tiny pinches and a playful spidering. His head was thrown backwards with the force of his laughter as he hugged himself, unsuccessful to himself from being tickled to pieces.

A strong, warm hand was laid on his shoulder and, lost in his laughing fit, Lang Qianqiu almost couldn’t catch when Guoshi said to let him go and the tickling feeling magically disappeared.

The prince couldn’t help the way he wobbled on the same place, tittering snickers and wheezy chuckles still filling the air, and leaned on Fang Xin, his Guoshi rubbing his shoulder while keeping his other arm tightly close to his body. His face had that expression he always carried when he was about to lecture him and leave another writing assignment, but it disappeared as quick as it came when he noticed Lang Qianqiu watching, his eyes instead twinkling with a suave amusement.

The crown prince had just gotten his breath back when his eyes traveled the rest of the arena and he saw his friend just a few steps of them, looking strangely uncomposed with a red hue painting his face. Lang Quianqiu squinted warily as he noticed his gaze and jumped on the same spot, getting closer.

As he opened his mouth to say something, the prince beated him to it, quickly straightening himself and turning around to bow politely at Fang Xin.

“I request a small break, please, Guoshi!”

Also looking a tad restless, but never losing his posture, Fang Xin nodded, getting his sword and walking away, probably to read some poem book as he always did during their moments of rest. Lang Qianqiu paid him no mind and instead swiftly turned back to his friend, who still looked flushed and confused.

“Your Highness, are you alright? I saw-”

His words morphed to a shriek when the crown prince jumped on him, no other word exchanged or mercy in sight as he energetically clawed his belly, chasing his loud squeaks until a high pitched laughter began to fill the entire arena, promptly making Xiao Mengyou immediately try to muffle it all behind his hands.

“Wait! Why!!”

With the flourish of someone who had done this plenty of times before and would continue to do so for plenty times more, Lang Qianqiu simply huffed - half amused and half annoyed - and  turned around, successfully sitting on his legs and trapping him in a very tickly destiny. Mengyou, with the same ease of someone who had been in this situation plenty of times before and knew very well about his future fate, started to squirm and trash much before he felt his shoes being pulled out, pleas falling from his lips like raindrops during the summer.

“You Highness, no! Not my feet, please, please! You know, you know I am the most ticklish there. Your Highness, just leave them alonEHEHE! NOHO!”

Lang Qianqiu did not, in fact, leave them alone. Instead, he dodge a kick - not before leaving a few scribbles on that sole for his trouble - and grabbed his other feet, holding his ankle down in a firm but gentle grip and spidering his fingers from the lowest point of his heel to his toes in a way that he knew it would leave his childhood friend crazy, watching with a smirk as he clamped his hands even harder over his mouth. Still, he was unsuccessful to muffle the uncontrollable crackles and squeals at each tiny scribble that escaped from his lungs. For this he blushed even more, kicks getting more energetic. 

Mengyou tried to roll away and escape, but, since the attack that hit Lang Qianqiu a couple of moments ago had been unrelenting, following his every move and tickling him everywhere, so was his comeback. His blunt nails chased his squirming no matter where, delivering scratches across his entire sole and focusing his pokes and scribbles on the sensitive spots he already knew it tickled the most.

The crown prince huffed with no heat when another strings of pleas and a few protests mingled together with the stray screeches that he managed to fish every time he concentrated his tickling right in the middle of his arch, changing from soft touches, full of circles being drawn slowly on the sensitive skin, to scratching it with no mercy, hysterical giggles and bubbly laughter dancing mingled in the air. Finally, when another squeaky “Your Highness” escaped his friend, Lang Qianqiu declared enough. He turned around fiercely and crossed his arms, staring directly at his friend, who barely watched him back with how much squinting in a big smile his eyes were.

“You were the first one to start it! Even attacking me in front of Fang Xin Guoshi.” Just the reminder of how he completely lost his composure and giggled like a kid in the middle of the fight made his cheeks burn hot. The fact that the other simply kept watching him with gleaming eyes and restless titters also didn’t help. “Don’t you think I am being fair?”

Xiao Mengyou kept snickering and snickering, head turning around in an attempt to hide his silly, disheveled state. Lang Qianqiu almost pouted with how even the most ruthless attack to his most ticklish spot couldn’t make him stop hiding his face.

When more moments flew away with him staring at his friend and the other being lost in a mess of giddy giggles, he reached skillfully behind him for his toes, burying his wiggling fingers right under them and spidering energetically, a joyful smirk appearing easily in his face at how this finally made Mengyou low his arms and sit up, trying to push him off his legs without any real force.

Seemingly as his words finally sank on the other’s mind, Mengyou answered. “You t- attacked me first that day! I was only getting revenge.” A snort flew from his lips and his face got even redder. “It’s been such a long time, too, Your Highness. Why tickle me back now?!” 

Lang Qianqiu was speechless. “Such a long time? That is it!”

He got out of the other’s legs, waiting as he took his breath back.

His childhood friend looked at the crown prince with a mix of surprise and wariness. Lang Qianqiu took the opportunity to turn around and run his gaze across the arena, noticing that Fang Xin Guoshi was nowhere to be seen. Uh. Maybe he got hungry and went to grab a snack? Well, since he still had some business to complete, Lang Qianqiu didn’t care to think too much about it.

His golden eyes glinted with mischief when they turned back to stare at Mengyou, who jolted on the same place and braced himself.

“Let’s have a tickle fight.” Lang Qianqiu copied him, also preparing himself, determination clear in every trace of his expression. Mengyou felt slightly amused with how serious he was taking this. “The first one to surrender wins and the loser can’t get revenge anytime soon.”

Mengyou looked thoughtfully at him and the crown prince was sure that his friend haven’t made his mind, and yet wasted no time in looking for the perfect place to strike, somewhere that would make him boneless and closer to surrender, that would make him forget everything besides how much it tickled and swapped his energy quickly. He found himself doing just the same, eyes locking on his knees before they widened in realization.

“Wait!” He scrambled to take off his own boots. “Now we are even.”

“Your feet aren’t as ticklish as mine, Your Highness.” As it always did, his voice stumbled just the tiniest bit over the word ‘ticklish’, but it still maintained a grumbling tone. Lang Qianqiu held his chin pensitive. “And the imperial preceptor will be back soon, there is no need.”

He was right. 

“My sides are my most ticklish spot.” As he conceded, the crown prince began pulling the string that kept his stash together, robes starting to loose up as well. “That is fine, I will just take off my upper robes.”

“Do not!” In a flash, there were hands pulling his away and quickly tying his stash firmly back. Mengyou’s voice stumbled again, tune equally serious and a tad hysterical. “What are you thinking, Your Highness?! What if Fang Xin Guoshi comes back or your parents decide to oversee your lessons today? How will we explain if they see you in that state? It would be irresponsible of you at least and shameless at worst!” 

Properly admonished, Qianqiu let out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t think about that.” Then he shook himself and focused on the matter at hand, gold, intense eyes watching Xiao Mengyou again. “We must have a fair tickle fight, still. I can’t have it any other way!”

Sigh. “It’s easier to worm my hands on your robes than for you to do the same with my boots during a ti… our fight. I will just put my shoes back.”

Lang Qianqiu gaped at him. “How is that fair? You’re hiding your ticklish spot while you just said it’s easier to get mine!”

“Well, you already got me there!”

“You’re making excuses, you tickle me on my sides all the time!”

“Yes, just like now.”

“Exact- wait, wh-” But before he could finish, Xiao Mengyou was already jumping on him, skilled fingers working their way to his sides and squeezing in a much more energetically determined way than his attack during his lessons, making his muscles lock up in place as squeaking laughter immediately escaped from his lips. Before he could lose all his force to the laughter, the crown prince attacked back, and soon two sets of giggles, squeals and crackling laughter were filling the air.

Until the sighing mentor came and declared the break over, even if there was still a different kind of gleam in his eyes.

The same gleam that stared now right back at him, in the middle of that forest, centuries later, with the former king of Yong’An alone and Fang Xin, no, Xie Lian being accompanied by the very own Ghost King, his friend.

Lang Qianqiu tried to escape the white silk that had so suddenly wrapped itself around him and rendered the younger martial god immobile on the floor. It was futile.

“What is this!” He tried to wiggle and squirm, but the fabric kept a firm, yet non bruising, hold on him. Like this, there was no way he could show his former Guoshi how he had grown his combating skills and how he probably could, if not take him in an equal fight, at least be a worthy opponent. An explosive indignation at the unfairness of Xie Lian’s tactic began flaring on him. “Let me go, this is not fair!”

“You didn’t specify that we should only use swords in our fight. Ruoye is my weapon, afterall.” If Lang Qianqiu had ever doubted that Xie Lian was indeed his old mentor, all of it would be gone now. The scolding, teaching tone was just the same, even after all the time. Although, it felt more tired, now. Older. “Besides, you should always be prepared for your opponent using unhanded tactics and surprise ambushes. If this was a real combat, you'd be dead already.”

Hua Cheng chuckled and for a moment Lang Qianqiu felt a wave of deja-vu wash over him, reminding the younger one about a similar situation when he had been rendered immobile in the past. 

(That is right, Qianqiu realized, with shame beginning to fight against him and prickle his skin, his Guoshi had been there too, hadn’t he?)

After such a true, yet unforgiving point, his lips pressed into a thin line, displeased. It was all just the same and infinitely different from those days when he was a teenager. 

For one, even with everything, Xie Lian seemed much more carefree. It was in the teasing tilt of his smile as he kneeled closer, in the slight slouch of his form, in the way he chatted and displayed emotions that had never been present in his in the imperial preceptor’s face before. Fondness, insecurity and, especially, indecision. Fang Xin Guoshi seemed sure in every step he took. When he lied to him and when decided to tell the truth, when he saved his life (again and again and again) and refused his invitation to a duel right after Lang Qianqiu discovered his identity. His Guoshi had been giant, indestructible, bigger than anything that crossed his way. Sometimes, Qianqiu still saw him that way, in his dreams and nightmares. 

Overlapping the image of his teacher and the kind god that ascended thrice seemed impossible.

Then he remembers him rescuing him in the Ghost City. He remembers being equally saved when he was twelve. He remembers his resolute composure when he confronted him about being his former Guoshi and the warm hand on his shoulder when Xie Lian woke him up after the heavenly conference. The way that he looked at him now. Serious. Admonishing. Somehow still soft. 

Suddenly piercing together those two images wasn’t really difficult at all.

Very different and yet the very same.

“Let us fight seriously this time! Only swords, no other weapons, until one of us surrenders or blood is drawn. Let me go, Guoshi.”

Xie Lian sighed in the same way he did centuries ago, when Lang Qianqiu kept pestering him to teach him said foolish maneuver that saved his life. The young one trashed more energetically in protest. “I told you once, didn’t I? ‘Do not charge right back in without correcting your mistakes and very much less without a plan’. Tell me, how could you have prevented me from winning the fight?”

Immediately his mind blanked with both the nostalgia and surprised feeling that ran through him and the former king stopped trashing, looking at his Guoshi with wide eyes. Xie Lian, then, looked horribly unsure for a moment, but in his next blink that expression was gone and he watched him in expectation, not taking his words back. 

Lang Qianqiu could understand.

There was anger and indignation bristling in his chest. He wasn’t that kid anymore, looking for the approval of his mentor, the person that he looked up to the most, the person that deceived him, who left a young boy, alone, scared, betrayed to rule an entire angered kingdom. 

As soon as the anger came, however, it soon went away, leaving only tiredness and nostalgia behind. Lang Qianqiu didn’t feel as furious as he had been when he discovered the entire truth, a long, long time ago. He wasn’t as single focused on it as he once had been. 

It’s been so many years. So many centuries.

(Sometimes he still felt like that kid.)

As time passed in his silence, Xie Lian looked awkward, perhaps sad, and he recomposed himself, preparing to leave.

As usual, Qianqiu’s mouth moved first than his brain.

“I could’ve dodged Ruoye!”

Xie Lian froze on his way up, searching his face for something. He must have found it, since he went back to his kneeling position and Hua Cheng stopped looking at the younger with something dangerous in his glare. Lang Qianqiu itched to finish their previous fight. Before he could think too much about that, though, his former guoshi’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“It would follow you no matter your move, which was already hindered by your surprise and slow reaction. It’s a spiritual weapon with long range. You’d still lose.”

He wanted to protest the use of ‘losing’ on this occasion, since his victory truly couldn’t hold any honor or weight after using such an improper ambush. However, before he could get a single word in, something white appeared in his vision field.

Lang Qianqiu blinked and turned to Ruoye, who seemed to shake in what seemed like an… attempt to a wave… or maybe it was a threat? The martial god would answer it in kind, even if just for the curiosity of seeing what the apparent sentient weapon would do, but his arms continued to be glued to his torso. 

Something in his face must have answered it, since the silk twirled happily.

And then immediately proceeded to attack his defenseless neck and ears in a soft, light kind of tickle that made shivers run across his spine and his lips turn into a gigantic smile.

An old memory tried to resurface.

“Whahat is this?!” He protested in between his teeth. Tiny, high pitched giggles made his shoulders shake, Qianqiu did his best to both hold them in and try to escape the tickly attack. He scrunched up his shoulders, except this only encouraged the soft weapon to scritch excitedly behind his ears until he turned to hide them, leaving his neck open once more. He tried to shake his head, still the maddening, gentle scratching sensation followed him with no problems, dancing across his skin without a single worry. “Dohon’t! Let me go!”

An amused huff cut his silence. “My, had I known about this, his capture at my kingdom would’ve been much smoother and quicker. Maybe I could even have given a different, more exciting show to my subjects, raise his price a little.”

For a moment Lang Qianqiu imagined it and the scenario was so alarming that he immediately shook his head to expel it, throwing the embarrassing thought away. His giggles suddenly became much more difficult to keep at bay and, were it not for that, he would have some good words to share about Crimson Rain Sought Flower’s clearly childish provocations!

“San Lang, don’t tease.” But Xie Lian’s tune was much more amused than chiding, hiding something in the depths of his words.

Lang Qianqiu turned around to demand he take his weapon away, but, just as he opened his mouth, Rouye decided to run across his spine and unleash an onslaught of unrelenting pokes and prodding on his sides, which made him arch his back and freed laughter to pour in waves from him, hysterical giggles twirling around every squeak and snort and suddenly the memory that had been itching in the back of his mind resurfaced.

The afternoon that Fang Xin Guoshi completed one year teaching him. Xie Lian never shared with the royal family the date of his birthday, so they decided to begin the tradition of celebrating this accomplishment instead. Lang Qianqiu couldn’t stay still during the entire day, excitedly waiting for the end of his lesson, when he would be free to drag the imperial preceptor to his surprise gathering. His focus had been completely impossible to hold and he only managed to get distracted from the commissioned gift he had asked for Xiao Mengyou to bring him when, out of nowhere, during their spar…

He then gasped in realization, turning his gaze at Xie Lian, narrowing eyes glistening in accusation, even if he was still unable to stop his uncontrollable loud laughter, especially as the prodding traveled to his ribs, spidering on them while getting dangerously closer and closer to his armpits, making him involuntarily squirm and snicker even more in anticipation. 

Even so, he obligated his laughing mind to concentrate on his former mentor's silly shiny gaze.

“It was you!” And, as if reading his mind and acting in protest, Ruoye drummed in that awful space where his pits and ribs connected, pulling a high pitched squeal out of his throat together with, of course, more crackles. “And Ruoye! You were the ones tickling me that day, not Mengyou!”

Xie Lian looked to the side with a way too innocent face to be genuine, a tiny, closed lip grin resting in his face, an almost silently amused, bigger smile escaping him. He didn’t say nor deny anything. It was all the confirmation the former king needed.

As he continued to snicker, giggle and squeal, Qianqiu remembered about his “revenge” taken on his actually innocent childhood friend…Xiao Mengyou definitely was going to kill him when he went to apologize that night. He could only hope it was not by the same way that Ruoye had decided to kill him that moment.

(Lang Qianqiu knew it was all a false hope, though.)

Xie Lian’s voice cut his thoughts.

“Now, again. Give me at least three ways you could have avoided this and Ruoye will let you go.”

Qianqiu felt the urge to grumble at this, but he snorted instead, starting to kick and protest when the soft silk gave the underside of his knee a curious poke. 

It was all futile, though, his mentor was known for using different methods of teaching and centuries didn’t change any of that, as it seems. 

Lang Qianqiu could relate, he also had at least one feeling that truly didn’t change after all this time, as well.

He would rather be running laps.

[frecklystars]

this man's sleeves are about to pop open and tear right off. he flexes and his shirt just fucking explodes

[xerith-42]

What if I made a whole post about Blaze

Wouldn't it be funny if I did that?

Blaze MyStreet (that's his name now) is the gayest character in the entire aphverse and I am tired of him being slept on. That's not to say that people don't like Blaze, they do. He was a popular character, but not in the way other characters are popular. It's hard to find other people who have him as a favorite character, and if you're a fan of Minecraft Diaries, most people forgot he was in that series because he was in like an episode of Season 3 and even I forgot about Season 3 outside of that. He's liked, but not in the way people can really latch onto characters in this series. More passively liked, because it's really hard to hate him.

And even in MyStreet, his ultimate conclusion is just bad. It's bad. I don't have any other words for it, it just sucks. Blaze being mind controlled and then killed off right before the finale was just unnecessary. It didn't add anything. This season had already implied to kill Melissa, and made it clear it wasn't afraid to kill off characters. There was no reason to do this other than to keep people hooked and make them have an emotional reaction to the episode.

And it worked! Most of the times I look up Blaze fanart, I find art of him as an angel, or in heaven with another character, or just art of him dying. And I don't object to making fanart out of these moments it just... it sucks opening his wiki and seeing "Status: Deceased" every time. It sucks going to find content of this character only to find a majority of it is just angst around a death I've actively tried to forget.

SO LET'S TALK ABOUT WHY BLAZE IS THE BEST CHARACTER IN MYSTREET AND WHY YOU SHOULD ALL (yes even you) GIVE HIM MORE LOVE AND ATTENTION

Did you guys know Blaze is canonically not straight and probably polyamorus? That isn't my headcanons, that's in the text. Sure it's all in mini-games, but the mini-games are supplemental material to the canon work, and when Blaze gets so little actual character work, I am unashamed to pull from these sources. And in these sources Blaze has stated that he is very much one of the fruits.

In one mini-game Aaron says "You can't marry two people Blaze, you know that!" And Blaze's response is "I do?"

[vine boom]

In another that I am rationally normal about, Aphmau stumbles in on Blaze with his head on Garroth's lap in a closet, WHILE THEY ARE UNDER MISTLETOE! And Blaze says "Your thighs are soft" while Garroth comments on how soft his hair is?!

[vine boom]

And this is all in tandem with the fact that he at the very least canonically had a thing for Dottie, and it's very easy to say he might have harbored feelings for Daniel, Rylan, OR Aaron

[vine boom]

So, we've established Blaze as one of them queers, this is great. Aphmau series really struggle with having gay characters at all, let alone good ones, but there's a quality queer character just sitting right there! Blaze is charming, funny, doesn't take up more space than he needs, and while it isn't in the test of MyStreet, I'll take what I can get. And he only gets better from here!

Wanna add drugs and stoner stuff to your next rewrite? Blaze is literally RIGHT THERE!! He's been around since Phoenix Drop High, and his birthday is literally April 20th, the writers are not being subtle about it. And in MCD, he's technically been around as a misspelled name since episode 40, and if you're making a rewrite, just add him in sooner.

Oh, you want Aaron to have a bigger support system that isn't just Aphmau in earlier seasons? Blaze and the werewolf pups are right there and would totally all live together in a house on My Street or Lover's Lane! Just saying! You want these characters to have a vector to explore polyamory? Blaze is basically an open book and very much agrees with the "a friend of Aaron/anyone else is a friend of mine" and would be willing to share his experiences. You want someone for characters to confide in that they normally wouldn't under normal circumstances? Blaze loves getting high and having vent sessions neither of them will fully remember in the morning.

And if we take it to MCD, he can provide a lot of this and more. Fleshing out of the werewolf experience, an actual werewolf that's at least closer to a part of the main cast than any other ones, AND you get to have him smoking out the other characters. Why wouldn't you make MCD Blaze the inventor of the first bong in Ru'aun? Literally why wouldn't you do that? What reason do you have not to do that? That's objectively great.

Blaze is a character who easily lends himself well to comedy and emotional scenes by being vulnerable all the time, and having the ability to bring levity when needed. He knows when you need to just scream into a pillow, or when he needs to pass you a joint and put a movie on in the background. There's not a lot given for him, but enough to build a solid character out of. He's stated to have an extended family, and a lot of siblings. He was probably the oldest one and had to help raise them, and would easily be able to empathize with older siblings in this show, especially ones who may have had to take care of a younger sibling while growing up due to absent parents (cough cough Melissa).

He also stood up to bullies for Daniel and was willing to make enemies with his entire pack, even his Alpha, just to make sure Daniel wouldn't get hurt or harassed. He's fiercely loyal and absolutely willing to throw hands at a moments notice for the right reason. It doesn't take a lot to make Blaze a ride or die friend, you just have to not be a dickhead and show that you're actually a decent person. He's very sociable and outgoing, a bit of a loudmouth, but he's got a good heart and generally gets along with anyone you could think to pair him up with.

I'm serious, send me a character and I will tell you how they could have a beautiful friendship/romance/something else with them and how it fleshes out both their characters. Blaze just does that by being around people. I'm serious. Please do this.

I didn't make an Instagram account in 2018 titled "Blaze_Best_Werewolf" (or something like that) with a self-made profile picture of Blaze wearing a flower crown and actively get in fights with people over MyStreet season 6 for my boy to be slept on in this manner.

[irhabiya]

when i was like 7 or 8 and beginning to fast for Ramadan, i kind of dreaded the month. not because i didn't want to participate but because i knew it would be difficult

i haven't dreaded our holy month since then, until this year. i get nauseous every time i think about it.

[victorie552]

You know, I wonder how Fingolfin's people were holding on while on Ice, like, spiritually. (not the royal family, their people) I think that, after few years, at least some of them were treating the Ice as a Valar punishment for Alqualonde.

When they came to Beleriand, the Moon rised for the first time, not to mention the Sun. They could see it as being forgiven. And of course there was Fingon rescuing Maedhros with eagle's help, which solidified the belief for them.

it suprisingly didn't make things between Feanorian and Fingolfin's people worse during Long Peace. It absolutely broke the Noldor after Nirnaeth, when everyone blamed Feanorians lack of repenting to the Valar for losing the battle.