#you gotta take extreme measures

[stylinson-spagghetti]

sentence of the week:

"I'm not defensive," she said defensively.

[mamawasatesttube]

i have to speak my truth. i think timkon clone baby aus fucking suck

[party-gilmore]

there was literally… ZERO reason… for her to bring up Jews in that article… at all…

this was a devastating story about a military man fatally self-immolating in protest of america supporting the ongoing message and should have REMAINED focused on him and message, there was… literally no fucking reason for that article to derail and complain about “israel supporters” being “afraid of antisemitism”

…like what the actual fuck.

“You simply cannot fit more America into a single incident than a man dying a horrifying death in protest of war crimes while a first responder screams at cops to stop pointing their guns at him and go get fire extinguishers. If you were to pick a single moment in history to sum up the essence and expression of the US empire, that would be it.”

Caitlin Johnstone, The Most American Thing That Has Ever Happened

[gallusrostromegalus]

If you please; what is your Tolberone theory of knowledge?

My theory, which I thought up a few weeks ago while sick with covid, is that all knowledge is a form of art, and that there are very broadly three basic types of knowledge arts: physical arts, philosophical arts, and scientific arts, and that pretty much all academic, artistic and practical disciplines exist somewhere in that triangle spectrum.

Physical arts are knowledges of how to actually, physically do things. The purest front of physical arts are things like dance and navigation.

Scientific arts are knowledges of things that can be tested and proven. Computer programming and Quilting are both scientific arts: they work, or they don't.

Philosophical Arts are knowledges of things which while not objectively provable, are still very real. History and Being A Good Listener are philosophical arts.

Nearly every discipline of knowledge is some combination of all three. Cooking is largely applied chemistry, a scientific art, but it's also a philosophical art because flavor is extremely cultural and contextual, and a physical art because you have to know how to hold the damn knife and heat when it's done.

The first part of toblerone theory is that, like how each piece has three sides, any given project needs at least one person who has a good grasp of each of the underlying arts involved or it's going to go sideways at best. For example:

Physical and Scientific arts, no philosophy: Jurassic Park. They need someone to point out that, while very possible, it's not necessarily a good idea.

Philosophy and Science, no physical: that dril tweet about the forum debate locked by a mod after 12,000 pages of heated debate. They need someone to drag them away from the keyboard and actually do something.

Philosophy and Physical, no science: that cult in midsommar that put a guy in a bearsuit. Without the ability to engage measurably with the world, they give into fear and behave like reactive animals. Also the "rare chicken steak" phenomenon.

You can have differing ratios of each type- Jurassic Park really only needed two philosophers: one animal behaviorist and an OSHA inspector, and 98% of the issues would have been avoided- but you do need at least ONE of each underlying art to check each other's work.

The second part of toblerone theory is that, like how the toblerone is made of many triangle pieces, there are poles to the triangle spectrum. Practical vs Esoteric arts. Short term and long term arts. High stakes vs for funsies arts.

While you have have different ratios and levels of expertise in each of the arts, you do all need them to be on the same piece of the bar, or they won't take each other seriously. A UN Diplomat and a climate scientist aren't going to take the advice of physical artist my uncle Bobby the plumber re: global warming, but they will take the advice of physical artist my Aunt Cheryl the civil engineer, a world expert in getting shit done.

The same applies for the other end of the spectrum. Aunt Cheryl the civil engineer isn't going to get much milage with the local high school student council and principal Waley when the problem at hand is "what are we going to do for this year's prom theme?"

I gotta go to therapy now, pictures later.

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 2

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

Summary: After Billy's accident, you go back to the Maximoff house to babysitt the twins.

Part 1

Time works differently when you’re inside a hospital. That’s true, whether you’re a patient or a doctor.

You measure it in shifts that can extend up to 36 hours. Sometimes you go inside when the sky is dark; by the time you're done it looks exactly the same, and you wonder if the day passed at all.

What’s certain is that you will always run late. Racing around your house, you take your bag, keys and pour coffee on a thermos, carrying a pop tart in your mouth.

You’re so worried with making sure you have everything, you don’t even notice Wanda is at the door until you crash against her.

“I’m so sorry!” you say, the coffee spilling all over your scrubs.

“Oh, my Gosh, is it hot? Are you ok?”

“It’s cold, no worries. Let me get changed, wanna come in?”

You walk back, finding some clean scrubs on a basket near the stairs. Thank God you did your laundry yesterday.

“What’s up, Wands?” you say, changing in the same room. You’re extremely late and can’t afford to go upstairs.

Wanda looks at your smooth skin and toned muscles and blushes, looking away.

“Oh… I… wanted to give you this. Billy drew it the other day. It’s supposed to be you in the hospital”

“That’s so cute” you walk up to her, looking at the drawing over her shoulder. “How’s the arm?”

“It’s good, he’s just itchy”

“Yeah, that happens. Can I keep it?” you ask and she hands you the paper. You put in on the fridge door, a magnet securing the drawing in its place. “I’d love to chat but I gotta run”

Wanda glares when you pick another pop-tart.

“Is that what you call breakfast?”

“I’m late!” you protest with a laugh, taking a bite on your way out.

“Well, come by anytime if you want to have some real food” she offers and you nod, smiling as you get into the car. “Oh, shoot! I forgot to ask. I need a baking tray to put some extra cookies, you wouldn’t happen to have one?”

“It’s your lucky day, my mom gave me one I never use. It’s supposed to be somewhere in the cupboard. There’s a spare key in that ceramic turtle”

“Oh, are you sure? I could come back later”

“No, it’s ok. As a matter of fact, keep it, in case you need anything else” you smile, groaning when your pager goes off again. “Ugh, gotta run! Say thanks to Billy for me”

“Will do” she waves, smiling as you practically put the entire pop-tart in your mouth.

Wanda ignores the regret she feels over not asking for what she really wanted. It wasn’t a baking tray, but some time with you.

—

“Is that your pager or mine?” you say, moaning when Carol’s lips travel lower, pulling your pants down.

“It can wait” she says, leaving open mouthed kisses as you part your legs, your fingers threading through her locks.

“The word emergency is in my job description” you say, reaching out and sighing with relief. “It’s yours”

“Is it 911?”

“Nope”

“Good. Now shut up and let me eat your pussy” Carol says, her tongue darting out to taste you, your hips canting up to move against her mouth.

“Fuck” you say, breathless as you ride Carol’s face. She leaves her place between your legs and you’re about to protest when you feel two fingers stretching you.

“Shhh” she says against your mouth, letting you taste yourself in her lips. “Be quiet for me”

You try to stay quiet, but almost let out a moan when someone knocks on the door of the on call room.

“Doctor Danvers?”

“In a minute” she says, a hand over your mouth. Her fingers pump in and out of you faster and the idea of someone waiting on the other side adds to the thrill. You reach your orgasm with a muffled cry.

“You good?” Carol says with a smile, standing up to get her clothes.

All you can do is nod, waiting for your breathing to go back to normal.

“See you later, pretty girl” she kisses your cheek, going out to meet the resident that was looking for her.

It was cliche, hooking up with someone at the hospital, but of course you had needs and no time to fulfill them outside of this building.

The fact that Carol wasn’t looking for anything serious helped too.

No feelings, no complications.

The rest of your shift goes surprisingly quiet, but you’re still urged to go home when Chief Fury comes across you in the hallway.

Since you leave on time and very well rested, you decide to go for a run as soon as you get home. You enjoy the physical exertion and being outdoors, appreciating the beautiful sunset as you jog around the neighbourhood.

It’s barely getting dark when you reach home, Wanda outside talking on the phone. You wave, but the tense smile she gives back makes you walk to her house instead of yours.

“Everything ok?” you ask as soon as she hangs up.

“Yeah, I had this thing but the nanny cancelled last minute”

“Oh, that sucks, I’m sorry” you look back to your place, and then your eyes meet hers. “Why don’t I take care of the twins for you?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to… you just got back from work, you’re probably tired”

“It was an easy shift, for once. Plus, I gather they don’t stay up too late, right?”

“No, it would only be two hours, three tops” she promises and you nod.

“It’s settled then, let me just take a shower real quick”

Wanda nods, her eyes raking over your body. She suddenly wished you’d go for runs more often, as you tend to wear really short shorts that show your toned legs.

“I can’t thank you enough” she says, going back to reality.

“Pancakes are always a good call” you wink, going across the street to your place. “Be right back!”

As you shower and change into more comfortable clothes, a part of you gets nervous over babysitting Billy and Tommy. Sure, you were good when you did your rounds in Peeds, but that didn’t mean anything compared to spending an evening making sure they were entertained enough.

Either way, you can’t back out now, so you cross the street, knocking on Wanda’s door. You’re taken aback by how beautiful she looks with a red skirt and red turtleneck sweater, knee high boots completing the outfit.

“You look amazing” you say, forcing yourself to look at her eyes, but it’s not any better, the make up enhancing her features and those striking green eyes.

“Thank you” she says shyly and you nod, not trusting yourself with your words. Wanda moves aside to let you in and you find Billy and Tommy in the living room.

“Hey, kiddos” you greet and they look at you excitedly.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you gonna hang with us?”

“Yeah, of course! We’ll have some fun” you ruffle Tommy’s hair, and inspect Billy’s cast. “Woah, someone has a lot of stickers”

“All of my classmates gave me one! I still have some space here, wanna pick one out?” the boy says, and you smile. Yeah, he moved on from the scared stage to being the cool kid with the broken arm at school.

“Of course, I’ll have to find some cool sticker in my collection” you promise.

Wanda leads you to the kitchen, showing you around. Your mouth waters at the smell of the pasta she made.

“I won’t be gone for long. They’re supposed to be in bed at 9 but I know they’ll get excited because you’re here so I’ll leave it up to you to decide”

“Alright. I’ll try my best to be the adult in the room”

“And remember…”

“No candy after 8” you repeat and Wanda chuckles.

“I can’t thank you enough, seriously” she says, walking towards the door.

“Not a problem”

The boys go say goodbye to their mom, and you think it’s adorable how they hug her and each give her a kiss on the cheek.

Wanda waves goodbye and you close the door, blushing as you appreciate one last time how amazing she looks in that outfit.

“So, what do the Maximoffs do for fun around here?”

“We watch movies or play videogames”

“Oh, like what? Crash, Spyro?” you say excitedly, because you love videogames and it’s been ages since you’ve played.

“What’s a Spyro?” Billy says, confused.

“What? Dude!”

“Dude!” the twins turn to each other, speaking at the same time. Oh, no.

“Damn it” you curse and they repeat that too. You cover your mouth with your hands, afraid of letting out another word that is way worse. “Alright, don’t speak like that. Only adults can say certain words”

“But Mom doesn’t speak that way either”

“That’s because she’s a very mature person. Come on, I’ll show you the best videogame ever”

While you wait for the game to download on their console, Tommy shows you around the house, Billy close behind.

“Can we have dinner before playing?”

“Sure” you nod, going back to the kitchen where you take plates, serving pasta and juice for the twins while you settle on a can of soda.

“Your mom is the best cook, I swear” you say with your mouth full, making the kids laugh. It’s been forever since you’ve had a homemade meal.

“Do you cook?”

“God, no. My talents are limited to medicine, Billy”

“So, do you eat hospital food?” Tommy says, grossed out and you laugh.

“We have a cafeteria and the food is ok, plus I forget to eat most of the time anyway. But seriously, your mom’s food is to die for. That’s just an expression, obviously”

“She made cookies. Can we have some?”

You look at the clock, and it’s almost 8.

“Alright, one for each”

The twins cheer, eating their pasta and asking you questions, most of them innocent, until…

“Why don’t you have kids?”

You choke on your drink, the boy blissfully unaware of how awkward you feel.

“Oh, well, Tommy… being a surgeon takes a long time. You have to go to school for a lot of years and then work at a hospital. So, there’s not a lot of time left to do other stuff”

Please don’t ask me how babies are made.

Thankfully, the questions stop once you give them a cookie, and they munch on them as you set up the game.

“He’s a dragon!” Billy says, amazed at the little purple creature prancing around the screen. They laugh when Sparks eats the butterflies and you can’t help the grin that’s on your face, remembering your childhood and how you used to spend your days playing.

“Your turn” you hand the control to Tommy, showing him the basic commands. Billy leans against you, asking some questions about the game.

You hold the control on the right side so he can push the buttons on the left once it’s his turn, enjoying the way they celebrate each time they get a chest full of diamonds.

The music of the game is very soothing, and after an hour playing, they’re both struggling to keep their eyes open. One glance at the clock tells you it’s 9:30, so the timing is perfect.

“Anyone tired?”

“No” Tommy lies.

“Really? I was thinking of trying out how strong I am, carrying both of you upstairs”

That makes them giddy and before they can run away, you carry them over your shoulders. The twins kick and scream, laughing as you go up the stairs.

“I’m so strong” you say as you reach the final step, trying to hide how out of breath you are.

“Now go down the stairs!"

“Uh, pass. Brush your teeth, come on” you say.

“Can we wait for mommy to be back?” Billy says before going inside the bathroom.

“Sure thing. Change into your PJs and we’ll read a story while we wait for her”

Of course, by the time they’re tucked in and you’re reading from the book Tommy choose, both boys are struggling to stay awake.

By 9:45 you leave their room quietly, closing the door behind you and going back to the first floor.

Your body is finally catching up to the exhaustion of the day, but you clean the kitchen and scroll through your phone, reading updates for patients and a text from Carol asking about your next shift.

Just when you’re about to answer her, the front door opens. At first, Wanda makes some noise, but upon seeing the quiet in the house, she closes the door softly, removing her boots.

“Hey” you say, leaning against the wall, hands on your pockets. “Had fun?”

“Uh, sorta” Wanda makes a face and you raise an eyebrow. “It was a blind date that went horribly wrong”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” she walks up to you, and you appreciate how short she is, without the heels she’s always wearing. “The restaurant was awful, he was an ass, and I am never ever letting my coworkers set me up with someone again”

You laugh at that, shrugging your shoulders.

“That sucks, especially the part about the food”

“Yeah. I’ll just grab whatever from the fridge”

“Ok. The kids are asleep. We had dinner, played some games and they wanted to wait up for you but it was almost 10. I’ll... uh, leave you to it” you get distracted by the way Wanda bites on a strawberry, your eyes going to her lips.

“Oh, yeah, of course. You must be tired” she says and your mind must be playing you tricks because she sounds disappointed.

You make a face, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Sorry, I just… would you stay while I eat? It would be nice to have pleasant company while I pretend this date never happened”

“Sure. I can definitely have more of your pasta”

This time, Wanda pulls out a bottle of red wine, and you enjoy the taste of it along with the food she made. It feels like the fanciest meal you’ve had in ages, even if it’s just at your neighbours kitchen.

“What about you?” Wanda says between bites.

“What about me?”

“Do you date?” she says with a smile, sipping from her glass.

“No, not really. It’s hard to do it with my crazy work hours. And I’m not sure I’d date another surgeon”

“Why not?”

“Some of them are batshit crazy” you say, making Wanda laugh.

“Oh, this is the first time I’ve laughed this evening”

“Happy to be of service" you raise your glass. "I’m gonna be a doctor for a second and feed my curiosity. Who else has twins in your family?”

“Me”

“What?”

You’ve met her for two years and somehow, you never knew this?

“Yeah, I have a twin brother. He lives across the country” Wanda says.

“That sounds nice. Not the living away part, but having someone to grow up with” you say, thinking about your own childhood. Wanda waits for you to look up, and you explain yourself. “I was an only child, but then my mom remarried when I was eleven. She and her husband had more children but, I don’t know, I never felt part of it”

“Was it something they did?” Wanda says with a soft voice, her hand coming closer to yours.

“Uh, no. My mom’s really nice, and I’m sure she didn’t do anything on purpose… but of course you’ll turn your focus to your youngest children, that’s how it works. I try to be around but it doesn’t feel like I belong. So I’m better at the hospital, working the days away”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, really. Maybe I’ll return her calls one of these days”

“Wow, now I feel special because you answer my texts” she jokes and you nod.

“You are special, Wanda”

The woman blushes, you biting your lip at the beautiful shade of red tinting her cheeks.

In spite of yourself, the alcohol relaxes you and you let out a yawn.

“Someone’s past their bed time”

“Yeah, yeah” you rub your eyes, standing up to wash the dishes.

“Let me” Wanda says, standing between you and the sink. For a moment, you consider pulling her closer and kissing her, but it’s probably the sleep depravation, or the alcohol making you delusional.

“Thanks, Wanda” you stay close, your eyes never leaving her face.

“Thank you, for taking care of them”

“Anytime” you nod, taking a step back before you act on your feelings.

“Text me when you’re home?” Wanda asks and you laugh.

“I live across the street”

“Yeah, but you had wine and you’re tired, one never knows in these cases”

“Fine” you linger on the threshold of the door, smiling as she looks at you. “Night, Wanda”

You wait until you’re home to pull out your phone, smiling as you type.

Y/N: Just got home. Traffic was horrible!

Wanda: Very funny.

Y/N: :)

Wanda: Night, Y/N

Part 3

[luveline]

Hi luveline! I have a request: in a busy night at the restaurant reader cuts or burns herself and gets overwhelmed and carmen patches her up and calms her down 👉🏻👈🏻 pretty please I loveee your hurt/comfort fics <3

—Carmy looks after you and your burned wrist. fem, 1.2k

Carmy thought he had bad nerves. 

You julienne onion at your station, ready to garnish their miniature French onion hot pots, your hand coming down slightly too hard. You’ve positioned the knife wrong in panic, thumb too far down the blade and claw of your other hand loosely tucked. You’re getting too stressed, and you’re going to get hurt. 

He has too much to do, but not too much to call for your attention across the cutting boards. “Hey, hey,” he insists. You look up. “Slowly and surely. Thumb against the line of the blade, like this.” 

He shows you the proper grip. 

“I know how to do it,” you say, frowning. 

“Just calm down.”

“You’re never calm.” 

Carmy can actually be extremely calm, and especially when he cooks, but nobody at The Bear has true reason to believe him. He has yet to prove himself properly after his in-fridge meltdown. Maybe he can’t. 

But tonight is busy, not make or break. 

“Seriously,” he says, smirking because he knows you hate it, “take it slow. Well, slower. Check your grip and keep going.” 

“Carmy, can you fuck off and let me cut these?” you ask. Clearly, your associates are rubbing off on you. 

Richie chimes in, his official, nothing-but-business intonation in play, “Carmy, can you fuck off, please?” 

Carmy doesn’t need to raise his voice. “Fuck you.” 

“Fuck you, Carmen. Twelve, walking in five. Hands? We’ve gotta pick up some bucatini...” 

Richie’s getting pretty confident in the back of house. Carmy’s happy for him, even if they aren’t speaking outside of the kitchen. 

He’s about to swing around Daniela to help her on the stove when you burst forward toward it and take the reins. Your prep station is cleaned and your onions set aside; he can’t believe how quickly you’re moving, and he saw that chef who was taking questionable substances fuck up a carton of carrots in a good two minutes. Dude was fast. 

He wants to say Baby, slow down, and he wants to examine how awkward ‘baby’ might be if he said it. He can’t think of another pet name that could garner success. Honey’s too old (though maybe, said with softness–), sweetheart too sweet. Doll is for uncles and bub sounds like it’s missing a syllable when he says it. Honestly, Carmy’s just desperate to call you something nice and have you listen, for once. 

You grab a pan from Daniela’s hand. “I got it,” you tell her, not without sympathy. “We can do one each.” 

“Thank you, can you–”

“Daniela, I need those lobster claws now. I’m serious,” Sydney interrupts, giving Daniela a rightfully impatient look. “I needed them five minutes ago.” 

Daniela winces. Sydney waits. You, unbeknownst to everybody except Carmy, attempt to clean a smudge from the hot stove top for no good reason —Carmy could scream at you. He nearly does.

“Can you fucking stop?” he bites. 

Sydney looks at him likes he’s grown a third head, but her reaction, while unfortunate and rather important considering their partnership, is the least of his worries. You flinch at his sudden rough tone and pull your hand back from the smudge, sleeves rolled and clean, skin of your wrist naked and waiting to be branded as you catch it on the side of your hot pan. 

Your yelp is immediate. 

“Fucking– Carmy!” Sydney says. 

He’s not sure why he’s being shouted at. Maybe because he abandons the line at a time where doing so guarantees a ripple effect. 

You’re freaking out. Carmy slides in beside you to encourage the pan off of the heat while you’re unable to tend it. “Daniela?” he says, loud and clipped. 

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re wide-eyed and lying, it isn’t okay, the burn mark is a squeamish pink stripe against your skin and you're already crying. 

Carmy takes your elbow. He wants to yank you to the cold faucet, but he’s measured enough. He has an encyclopaedia of kitchen safety. 

He’s burned himself enough times. “Come here,” he says, though you’re coming anyway, wincing as he leads you to the back of the kitchen by the sink. He stoppers it and starts the cold tap, where he pauses. “It’s gonna sting.” 

“It already stings.” 

Carmy guides your arm under the stream. 

He turns the faucet until it’s a fast running spray and encourages you to lean down to submerge the entirety of the burn in cold water. Your sleeve gets wet. He pushes it up. 

“Carm, it’s fine.” 

He shakes his head to readjust your arm. His hand is tender, but his fingers are trembling. 

“Carmen,” you say firmly, quietly, “it’s okay.” 

He realises suddenly that he’s not breathing. He lets out a breath, pulls another fast one in, and snaps the fuck out of it. “It’s okay,” he repeats, “the cold waters gonna draw out the heat. I’m gonna get the first aid kit.” 

“I have to go back–”

“No.” His and Syd’s kitchen will never prioritise the food over injury. “I’m gonna get the first aid kit, I’m gonna dress it. But you have to stay here for thirty minutes with your hand in the water.” 

“A half hour, are you kidding?” 

“Do I sound like I am?” he asks genuinely, not pissed nor bossy, fighting a tendency to be both. 

“We’re right at the crest of the rush–”

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t prioritise the restaurant over yourself. It’ll fuck you up.” He feels the cold on his hand where he holds yours in the water, watches the water rise to the overflow. “Does it hurt?” He turns your hand to see the burn in better detail. “It’ll blister for sure. You’re gonna have to look after it.” 

You wipe the drying tears from your cheek. It was a stupid question. “Yeah, it hurts. Fuck, it was so hot.” 

“That’s why I told you to calm down.” 

“I know that. Thanks.” 

He doesn’t know if you’re sarcastic or genuine, can’t tell if you’re hurting or pissed at his instruction. You shiver when he lets your wrist go, but you keep the burn submerged, the faucet squeaking as he wrestles it off again. 

“Maybe we could both try calming down,” you suggest. 

“Maybe.” He squeezes his eyes shut quickly. When he opens them, you’re still squinting in your own pain. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll be right back.” 

He pats your shoulder gently. His hand gets stuck to you, massaging tenderly at your shoulder and down your upper arm, your faces closer than they reasonably need to be. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

Your cheek tilts down toward his hand where it holds you, but you don’t let it fall. “I’ll be fine. I am fine. It’s just… busy.” 

“I know.” 

“Never burned myself like that.” 

Carmy has, but you could guess that. “It’s fine. I know how to look after it.” Look after you. 

His hand crests your shoulder. You let your cheek touch briefly to the back of it. “Okay,” you murmur. 

Yeah, he’s fucked. The first aid kit can’t fix what’s wrong with him. 

[hightowered]

and you know i gotta say. the vast majority of the people losing their shit this weekend made it very clear that they do not understand the difference between "artists who want a measure of comfort in their lives" and "the billionaires actually being targeted by phrases like eat the rich." that is such a weird thing to be so proud to announce to the whole entire internet.

it's also extremely weird to behave as though any individual is entitled to an artist's work for free. or that the audience should be the final say in determining what an artist creates. there is a major difference between the betrayal of an artist who produces art and then banks on their social capital to engage in harmful, violent, bigoted behavior (like jk rowling) and the "betrayal" of an artist who decides that they should be or need to be compensated for their work. the latter isn't actually a betrayal at all. it's just a shift.

the thing is that the watcher boys didn't invent capitalism, they didn't invent the streaming model, they didn't invent youtube or patreon. they aren't getting 100% of the money from either. their merch doesn't magically appear as if made by elves while they sleep. their videos don't happen out of nowhere and without incurring bills. they have a business which employs people, and sure, you can say they employ too many people, but do they actually? a bunch of randos on the internet don't actually know that. they don't know these job titles, or how necessary it is to have everyone there. it's pure speculation. the entire company exists within a system they did not invent and are trying to stay afloat in said system while a bunch of assholes on the internet berate them for not acquiescing to their every whim at the expense of their artistic integrity, their ability to compensate their staff fairly, and their ability to keep making art.

and jumping from "i want to continue enjoying this artist's work for free" to "i think people should be fired and the remaining employees should be given greater responsibilities and more tasks to complete" is wild to me. there's nothing leftist in that and so trying to leverage leftist jargon to prove some sort of moral superiority is fucking wild, it's disingenuous, and it's sketchy as hell. you're allowed to be disappointed. you're not magically exempt from being told you're being an asshole if you decide your disappointment entitles you to take part in asshole behavior.

"but we don't want something heavily produced and we don't want these shows" then don't watch! that's it! don't watch! you are not being held hostage and forced to engage with this content. you have the choice not to. throwing a tantrum and launching racist vitriol at steven lim and demanding he step down as CEO shows a level of entitlement and childishness that, frankly, i wish they could have ignored, but they're both kinder & more patient than i am.

anyway congratulations to watcher on their new streaming service and their gorgeous new website, congratulations to the boys on a new step in their careers and on achieving something they've made clear they've wanted for ages, thank you to the boys for all their hard work and for sharing their creativity with us. thank you too for taking such a big and genuinely brave step to no longer be beholden to major corporations and advertisers so you can make the art you want to make. thank you to steven lim for taking so many steps back to keep the company running and for doing your best in a shit economy and while being targeted by this kind of nastiness online. and thank you to the entire team at @wearewatcher for continuing to do amazing work despite being treated like shit by the fan community at large on the internet while you're trying to make a living and create art. you all deserve better than you've been shown of late and i hate that such an exciting moment got overshadowed by so many temper tantrums.

because the whole fucking point, the dream, is getting to make the art that matters to them, without being held back. i'm sorry y'all don't want the heavily produced and high quality shit but your preferences as a member of an audience are not the law by which artists should abide. they are artists and they are free to, and deserve to, make the art they want to make.

[myceliacrochet]

URGENT: 4yo Little Girl and Her Family Malnutritioned and Freezing!! (Sham and Moneer al-Anqar -- Skills Series: "Easy Piece First")

Reblog if u answer pls tysm!🩷

There's no shame in that! In this series, I'll be sharing some tips to help us keep going strong, carrying these families throughout this brutal winter of extermination. With each post I'll be highlighting a family in desperate need.

Easy Piece First

Whether we're working at a job, making commissions, working on posts, or doing other tasks, mutual aid for genocide relief can be overwhelming. The stakes are through the roof, and sometimes the people who most want to help are the people least able to. Often I freeze in place, overwhelmed with emotion, unsure of where to start. Depression, anxiety, and AuDHD don't help!

So I hope this skill is of use to you. I call it "Easy Piece First" because that's what helps me remember it, but it's definitely not a new idea.

I started this post with the easiest small step accessible. For me, that was writing down Moneer's current blog tag (@sham-moner) in a new post. This was the easiest for me because it required no decision-making and could be done in a few seconds. Then I filled in the other parts that don't take much thought -- the GoFundMe link, the vetting, and some tags.

For other posts, sometimes I'll be making art that is unrelated and then I'll think of a post to go with it.

Lazy and Heartless, or Focused and Strategic?

Everyone is different, but trying to force yourself to start with the hardest part first (what some people call the "Eat That Frog" approach) can actually make things take longer for some people. Using "Easy Piece First," I was able to get more done with my time, and with less trouble. This makes my efforts more sustainable long-term.

On a related note, I actually take a lot of measures to not walk around with my chest constantly hurting for Palestinians anymore (though there's nothing wrong with doing so). My chest was aching at all times for months until I converted some of my worry into action and some of it into self-care -- so I could actually get more done for Palestinians, who do not need my tears but my labor.

This winter is a marathon, and we gotta see it through to the end.

Take care of yourself so you can get more done and keep helping people long-term.

Do not give yourself a heart condition.

Give Palestinians labor.

That's how I'm keeping myself out of the hospital and maximizing what I can do for people, but we all have our own strategies.

But that's enough about us -- let's talk about these two amazing kids.

Moneer and Sham

Palestinians are just regular people. That's the horrible reality. It's the exact same as if people from your own background, even your own family were getting tortured and killed.

Like, Moneer is a 19yo who had recently started university when the genocide began. Sham is 4, Mohammed is 16, Rana is 21, and Rasha is 22.

What were you going through when you were 4? How would you have felt if you saw people getting blown up at that age? What if your house was blown up and all your toys and friends were lost, and you had to live outside in the winter, scrounging for moldy bread and polluted water?

What if you lived with the smell of rotting bodies when you were 4? Did you know what that smelled like as a little kid? I still don't know what that smells like. I didn't really know what death was at that age. She does.

This small child is in critical need of food and water!!

She is starving!!

Sham will die this winter without more donations!!

This is a call to action for an extremely urgent campaign!!!

It's been 2 days, and it was 2 days before that! This is far too long!!

Moneer is still recovering from major surgery. He is in a lot of pain and is also malnutritioned and in need of clean water and warmth.

Moneer is very close to his family and dearly loves his mom, Amani (39). Amani is in a lot of danger because she has asthma in a dusty massacre zone without treatment. It's killing Moneer to watch his mom go through this.

Drink some water, take a rest, and keep putting one foot in front of the other, using whatever tools work for you.

We are not letting these kids and their family die this winter!! We can do this!!

Vetting: GazaVetters #8

@opencommunion @beserkerjewel @deepspaceboytoy @rhubarbspring @eryuditely @lesbianmaxevans @malcriada @turian @sxpph0 @rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @neptunerings @dykesbat @halalgirlmeg @userpeggycarter @minosbull @hamstertross @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog @definitelynotafox @kaleschmidt @jaylung101 @captainsaltymuyfancy2 @timetravellingkitty @sun-and-moon-side @kahin @greenmossyrock @northgazaupdates2 @irhabiya @theparanoid @steep1253o @victoriawhimsey @dirhwangdaseul @cruzwalters @ladycelebrianofimladris @tamamita @50seagullsinatrenchcoat @deathlonging @nconiku @briarhips @kaislittlecorner @mahoushojoe @sar-soor @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @sawasawako @feluka @anneemay-blog @ralfocups

P.S.: I have several people waiting on me for posts. I am so sorry -- I will get them finished and published as soon as possible.

@soft-sunbird Thank you dear friend🥰🩷 I love you. You're doing so great

Check out the comments for many ways to help!

[archangeldyke-all]

tfem reader making sub!sev gag on her dick

hehehe nice i love sub sevika

disclaimer! i'm cis, so let me know if there's any mistakes and i'll fix them asap!!

men and minors dni

sevika's been distant all night, her mind stuck at work, her body stiff with tension even in your arms.

she gets like this sometimes-- so exhausted from work that she's like a zombie. there are a few solutions for it; sometimes you need to force feed her cup of sleepytime tea and a few melatonins and cuddle her until she passes out, sometimes you need to get her fifty dollars worth of undercity grub and let her binge on her favorites until she's feeling human enough to speak again.

and... sometimes you need to take more extreme measures.

"sevika, love." you whisper. she blinks up at you, her eyes tired and far-away. you cup her face and stroke your cheeks with your thumbs.

"mmhmm?" she whispers.

"you're all spacey."

"sorry."

you giggle and kiss her forehead. "'s okay baby. you want me to give you somethin' to focus on?" you ask.

sevika blinks at you in confusion. "i-i don't think my brain can--"

"you won't need to use your brain, baby." you giggle, running your fingers through her hair. "all you'll need to use is that pretty mouth of yours." you trail your thumb over her lips.

sevika shivers, and something sparkles in her eyes as she starts to understand your suggestion. "y-yeah." she squeaks. "yes please."

you giggle. "yeah?"

sevika nods. "yeah. yes. need it." she's whiny and sweet just at the mere suggestion. you lean down and kiss her lips.

"well then get on your knees, baby."

sevika scrambles to the floor, her hands fumbling at your pants while you throw a few pillows into a pile for her to kneel on. you squeak a bit at her eager pulls and tugs, giggling as you smack her hands away from your pants to unbutton them before letting her try to strip you again.

you're half hard just from the desperate way she's fumbling for you, and when sevika whimpers at the sight of you, you twitch.

"f-fuck." sevika whimpers, clawing at your hips. you giggle as you reach down and stroke yourself in front of her face, teasing her just a bit. she tries to dart forward, only for her nose to bump you knuckles. you giggle and push her back by her forehead.

"you gotta wait for permission, sev."

"i-- but--" sevika whimpers. "you're a tease." you laugh and run your free hand through her hair, tugging the ends for just a moment, just enough to make her gasp.

"say please." you demand.

sevika gasps. "please!"

you giggle and let her go. "good girl."

sevika melts, a shy smile taking over her features as she darts forward and licks up the bead of wetness on your tip. you gasp, then giggle as you watch her continue her kitten licks and gentle pecks.

"who's the fucking tease now?" you pout.

"mmm." sevika hums against you. fuck she knows how to make you shiver. "'f 'm not doin' it right... maybe you should show me how ya like it."

you grin. "you are fucking. adorable." sevika grins up at you, her eyes sparkling and alive, the fog from earlier completely cleared. "pinch my ass twice if you need to breathe, okay?"

she nods eagerly, licking her lips as you thread your fingers through her hair and grip her at the roots. she lets out a happy hum, almost like she's purring in your hold. fuck. you need to ruin her.

"open your mouth."

sevika smiles and then sticks her tongue out letting her jaw drop as far as she can go. you tug her face up and spit into her mouth, and sevika groans and scrambles to grab a pillow to shove between her thighs. you let her get one good grind in against it before shoving your dick down her throat.

sevika chokes and sputters, her nose buried against your pubes as you let her soak you with drool. she feels fucking amazing. her throat's gotten used to this treatment over her years with you, and she can fit you all the way. warm wet heat envolops you, and then sevika gags, and you pull back.

she gasps for air and smiles up at you like you hung the stars in the sky for her. you cackle and start a steady pace in and out of her mouth.

sevika's tongue is wicked, and it's doing sinful things to you while she moans and groans against you. one of her hands trail down to cup your balls and play with the sensitive patch of skin just behind them. fuck, she can you like a hand of cards.

sevika's thrusts against her pillow are sloppy and uncoordinated, and you huff a laugh. "poor thing. so needy, huh? got one hole filled and still all you can think about is filling more." sevika whines against you, tears making her eyes glimmer. she's a fucking mess-- her eyeliner streaking down her cheeks and drool trailing down her chin. janna. "sevika, you're so fuckin' pretty baby. such a pretty slut, fuck." you whine.

sevika chokes around you and you laugh, letting her up for one sputtering breath before pulling her back down.

"are you close? 's that what you're tellin' me?" you ask. sevika nods, blinking up at you with desprate eyes. you giggle. "so cute, gettin' off on being good for me, aren't you?" sevika tries her best to nod again with her mouth full of cock. you laugh. "well, go ahead, baby. get yourself off, let me see how pretty you are when you're falling apart for me."

sevika whimpers, and you loosen your grip on her hair to let her pull away for air as she starts working her hips even harder against her pillow. her hand takes over for her mouth, jerking you off desperately as she leans against your thigh, gasping and moaning and shivering as she gets closer.

"you're so fucking cute, sevika, look at you. humping a pillow, cumming from my dick in your mouth, fuck, i love you."

sevika whimpers, and you watch in awe as she cums in her pants, a visible wet patch growing between her thighs.

the sight make's you cum, and you pull back just in time to coat sevika's face with it, making her groan deep and low in her chest-- purring again.

her tongue darts out to start licking up your cum before you're even done painting her face. you giggle, shaking your head down at her in admiration.

"i love you." you whisper. sevika smiles up at you, her eyes scrunched closed, a happy, blissed out smile on her lips.

"love you too. can i use your shirt as a cum rag?"

you laugh and reach forward with the hem of your shirt, cleaning her eyes so she can blink up at you. her eyes are still tired, but all the distance and worry that was there before is gone now.

"there's my pretty girl." you whisper.

and despite the fact that she's covered in your cum and her own drool, despite the fact at she squirted her pants from sucking your dick and riding a pillow-- this is what makes sevika blush the brightest she has all evening.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

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@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys

[shakingparadigm]

truly truly truly deeply insanely unfathomably obsessed with the shot of ivan glancing at the scoreboard to check till is in the lead before starting to really choke him. the kiss is definitely dubious in a toxic yaoi way that makes me we want to descend into the dark (tragedy edition) but i feel like his motives are somewhat clear, if multifaceted. sometimes you gotta hypocritically sacrifice yourself for love and also get your unreciprocated kisses in. i'm going to walk into the damn sea i thought i was READY

ALSO THE ART OF THEM CHOKING EACH OTHER FROM A BILLION YEARS AGO I KNEW IT KNEW THAT WAS GONNA BE RELEVANT AS HELL AND LOOK AT US NOW. AAAAUGH.

The kiss was.... very morally dubious, yes, but I can see why he did it, both from a selfless and selfish standpoint. The way he pulled Till back in just to check the scoreboards behind him was insane. He wanted to make absolutely sure. I don't recall Sua ever having to check the scoreboards during her performance.

Sorry, about to go off on a tangent here, but I can't stop thinking about the differences between Ivan and Sua's sacrifices.

Ivan's plan of sacrifice was a lot less polished than Sua's was, most likely because Till wasn't performing to his usual standard (unlike Mizi, who sang her heart out for Sua). He needed to take drastic measures when he realized Till wasn't cutting it, but his fucked up little head also wanted one last extremely selfish act, an attempt to burn something into Till's mind. So why not hit two birds with one stone?

Sua's plan of sacrifice was a lot more simple, provided no more spectacle than what was promised of a normal contestant death. She knew she was loved, so her final act before death was to play her part in the performance she and Mizi dreamed of ever since they were young. All she wanted was to grant Mizi's wish before death. A celebration of their love. A final I love you.

Ivan was so desperate he went all out. He had to make big strides, perform explosive acts of passion and aggression. He had to force it, had to interrupt his own performance in order to get the outcome he wanted. Unlike Sua, he wasn't loved. He wasn't even looked at, so he had to take desperate measures to get even a sliver of the attention he craved. His final act was far from a gift, more like a plea. Less like I love you and more like Please love me.

[mercillery]

You already know who this is lmao. Since you wrote Andrew perfectly from IDV I GOTTA see how you write Frederick relationship overview 🙏💕 I love my poor disgruntled ex prodigee French man

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: I’ve got nothing to say about Frederick mains yet because I stopped playing around his release…but i’m sure his mains are fun to play with. I imagine they accidentally pop ciphers a lot too.

At first, Frederick would charm you in a way that feels almost unfair, like he’s playing a game you didn’t know you’d signed up for???

You’d find yourself completely entranced by Frederick—there’s no escaping it. This man doesn’t just walk into a room; he makes an entrance with a grace so smooth it practically slides in on polished shoes. He’s got this natural elegance that makes you wonder if he spends his weekends secretly training under some Victorian-era etiquette coach.

Every word, every subtle movement, is meticulously chosen to leave a lasting impression. You can almost hear a soundtrack playing whenever he talks. His gaze? Oh, it’s not just looking at you; it’s reading your very soul, flipping through your emotional pages like a well-loved book. This guy has the power to sweep any lady off their feet, whether they want to be swept or not. But don’t get too worried—you’re not just anyone to Frederick.

Dating Frederick is like a high-stakes thriller with poetic intermissions. When he’s chosen you as his focus, you’ll know it. He’s as devoted as a knight in shining armor with an artistic twist. Forget flowers—he’s out there composing symphonies that embody the way you laugh or the way you wrinkle your nose when you’re annoyed.

And yes, he’s that extra. But it’s not all rainbows and heartfelt sonatas. His passion runs as deep as the Mariana Trench, and with that comes a protective streak that would put guard dogs to shame.

His moments of jealousy? Let’s just say he doesn’t do halfway—Frederick only knows extremes. If you so much as wave at your barista a second too long, brace yourself for a brooding soliloquy about loyalty and his existential fear of being forgotten.

See, the man doesn’t just want to be liked or loved; he needs to be your everything. He’s got this internal scoreboard and if he’s not winning the gold medal in your heart, what’s the point? To Frederick, being mediocre is worse than losing—it’s being invisible, and he won’t settle for that. And honestly, why should he?

When it comes to love, Frederick doesn't do simple—no, he composes entire symphonies that could put Hollywood’s most dramatic love themes to shame. His idea of showing affection? It’s nothing short of an epic masterpiece.

You’d find yourself at the center of a grand concerto, where each note is painstakingly crafted to echo the highs, the lows, and those delicious in-betweens of your relationship. And, of course, private performances would become as routine as morning coffee.

Picture this: Frederick seated at a piano, fingers dancing across the keys, eyes darting to your face every other second as if he's trying to capture every flicker of your reaction. Is that awe? Is that admiration? Good. He’ll take that as a win. Your approval? It’s like a five-star review in a world where his love language is measured in crescendos and decrescendos.

But let's not forget—Frederick is a hopeless romantic, the kind who’s read Wuthering Heights one too many times and thought, Yeah, I can top that.

Love letters? Oh, they’re not just notes; they’re beautifully penned, metaphor-laden works of art that could make Shakespeare sit down and take notes. Candlelit concerts? He’s already planned three for next month, complete with a playlist that rivals the greatest romantic ballads in history.

And the surprises don’t stop there; you'll find flowers and little notes tucked into places you'd never expect: your bag, the fridge, maybe even the laundry hamper (don’t ask how they got there).

But for all his flair, Frederick isn’t just about grand gestures. There are those quieter, softer moments that catch you off guard and remind you that his love is as layered as one of his symphonies.

A simple lean of his head on your shoulder while you read, a touch so subtle you almost question if it happened, or that electric, intense gaze from across a crowded room—those moments are like a secret shared between the two of you. It’s like speaking an unspoken language, one where every glance and touch is a verse in an ever-unfolding poem that only the two of you understand.

Frederick’s sensitivity is a double-edged sword in your relationship, like owning a cat that’s both affectionate and completely unpredictable. On one hand, his perceptiveness is unmatched. This man could tell you’re upset from the way you’re stirring your coffee or the subtle shift in your smile.

Before you even have the chance to sigh, he’s there with those eyes full of concern, ready to listen and offer comfort that feels like a warm blanket on a cold day. It’s this deep empathy that forges an almost magical connection between you two, making you feel seen and understood in a way that’s rare. When Frederick’s with you, he’s with you—body, mind, and soul.

But there’s a catch, and it’s a big one.

His own emotions are about as stable as a teetering Jenga tower in the middle of an earthquake. Frederick feels everything on a scale of 1 to 100, with no in-between. Did you forget to say goodnight because you fell asleep? Prepare for an orchestra of internal questioning that could rival Hamlet’s soliloquy. Did you compliment a friend’s new jacket without immediately reassuring him that he still has the best taste in the room? Cue the silent spiral of doubt. He doesn’t just overthink—he over-operas. (Am I funny yet or do I just sound corny?)

Reassurance isn’t just appreciated; it’s essential. A simple “I’m here for you” can turn his internal storm into a calm, clear sky. Without it, his mind becomes a symphony of self-doubt, complete with the tragic overture of “Are they slipping away?”

And while it might sound exhausting, knowing this about Frederick means you’re sharing in something unique: a relationship where vulnerability is met with raw honesty and a commitment to each other’s emotional landscapes. Just be prepared for those moments when your calming words are the only thing standing between him and a full Shakespearean-level existential crisis.

While Frederick effortlessly projects an aura of undeniable charm and sophistication, it’s in those rare, private moments that you get to see beyond the polished exterior. These are the times when the cracks in his armor show, and you catch glimpses of the man behind the grandeur.

He’ll sit beside you, the gleam in his eyes softened, and open up about the disappointments that still gnaw at him. He’ll talk about the aching void left by his estranged family, the times he felt abandoned, and the relentless fear of mediocrity that follows him like a shadow he can’t shake.

It’s then you realize that his vanity isn’t just there to dazzle; it’s a well-crafted shield, desperately protecting the perfection-seeking artist who’s terrified of being truly seen and found wanting. In these moments, your acceptance of him—raw, imperfect, and honest—is worth more than a standing ovation at a sold-out concert.

But, spoiler alert: listening quietly won’t cut it.

He doesn’t just want to see that you’re present; he needs to hear your voice, feel your words like a balm on his frayed nerves. A silent nod isn’t enough when his mind is a cacophony of insecurities. He craves your reassurance like it’s the only song that can drown out the dissonance of self-doubt.

Then there are those times when Frederick’s paranoia takes center stage, and his brain transforms into a crime scene investigator looking for clues of your potential disinterest. Did you pause a beat too long before answering a question? He’ll dissect that silence like a forensic expert, eyes narrowing as if you just handed him the Rosetta Stone of heartbreak.

Even your simplest words or expressions are put under a microscope, magnified until he’s convinced he’s found proof that you’re slipping away. And yes, this can lead to some tension that’ll have you wondering if you’re in a relationship or a 24/7 reality show with constant performance reviews.

But here’s the twist—your patience and understanding are the keys to unlocking the security he craves. Sure, it might feel like you’re on an emotional tightrope at times, but when you take that moment to reassure him, to tell him he’s enough, you’ll see the tension melt away, and the storm in his eyes settle. Your steady, confident love is what helps Frederick silence the relentless chorus of doubt, making him feel seen, cherished, and—finally—secure.

Frederick has an eye for beauty, a radar for aesthetics, and a deep appreciation for life’s most elegant experiences, so if you’re with him, get ready for a whirlwind of high-class romance. Dates with Frederick aren’t just nights out—they’re productions.

Picture this: a night at the opera where he’s reserved the best seats, just for you and him, leaning close to whisper his insights on the music while his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your arm. Or an evening spent at a prestigious art gallery where he guides you from piece to piece, sharing stories and perspectives that make the artwork come alive.

Even a simple walk in the park with Frederick is elevated; he’s not just strolling—he’s carefully navigating to the most scenic routes, stopping at every blooming flower and golden-lit pond to take in the view and share a quiet moment of awe with you. He’ll glance at you with that expectant smile, as if to say, Isn’t this incredible?—and yes, he’ll definitely be checking to see if you agree.

And yes, if you’re wondering, he does have standards—expectations, even. Frederick doesn’t want to enjoy these experiences alone; he wants to bask in your shared appreciation, revel in your mutual admiration for art, architecture, and all things exceptional.

He’ll be delighted to show you off to his social circle, introducing you with a certain pride, as if you’re the finest piece in his collection of treasured things. But with that comes an unspoken agreement that you’ll match his refined demeanor and partake in his world of cultured conversation and elegant gestures.

Now, don’t get me wrong, he’s not expecting you to memorize 18th-century sonatas overnight or debate the merits of impressionism versus post-impressionism at every cocktail party. But if he catches even the slightest yawn during a concert or a vague, non-committal “It was fine” when he asks your thoughts on an exhibit—oh boy, brace yourself.

His brows will furrow in a way that says Is this really happening?, and suddenly, the air will feel a bit tense, like you’ve hit a wrong note in the symphony of his evening. He thrives on shared enthusiasm, so when he doesn’t see that spark in your eyes, he’s left wondering if you’re really on the same page or if you’d rather be anywhere else.

The key to navigating these moments? Patience and a touch of reassurance that, yes, you’re in this for the full experience—fancy outfits, whispered critiques at the opera, picturesque paths and all.

One thing about Frederick? He holds mediocrity in absolute contempt. This extends beyond his own aspirations and into the realm of your relationship, which, to him, is just another area where greatness must reign supreme.

If you're with Frederick, get ready for a personal coach, cheerleader, and, occasionally, an overly intense life mentor wrapped into one. He’ll push you to chase your dreams and won’t just clap when you reach a milestone—he’ll give you a standing ovation, complete with dramatic applause.

But with that passionate encouragement comes an edge; Frederick will also be your most unsparing critic, the kind who’ll say, “That was good, but it could be phenomenal,” right when you’re ready to celebrate. It’s motivating, sure, but if you don’t share his relentless pursuit of excellence or just need a break now and then, it might feel like you’re jogging beside someone who’s running an ultra-marathon…

If you really want Frederick to beam like he just won an award, show a genuine love for his craft or nurture a passion of your own. Respect for talent and hard work is practically woven into his DNA, so when he sees that you have your own spark, that’s when you become more than just a partner—you’re his muse, his equal, the one who fuels his artistic spirit.

Conversations with Frederick are not your run-of-the-mill small talk. Forget chatting about the weather or weekend plans; he’s here to unravel the mysteries of the human mind, ponder the nature of ambition, and debate the intricacies of creativity.

His interest in dissecting emotions, motivations, and talent isn’t just a casual hobby; it’s like he’s running a one-man TED Talk every time he opens his mouth.

And you? You’ll probably find yourself nodding along, wide-eyed, captivated by the way he speaks with such eloquence that even the most mundane statement sounds profound.

Honestly, he could say, “An orange is orange,” and you’d be nodding like, “Absolutely, that’s so true,” while trying not to swoon from the sheer brilliance of his delivery.

That said, these conversations aren’t just one-sided lectures. Frederick expects engagement, intellectual back-and-forth, even if it turns into a bit of a debate. And make no mistake—he’s got strong opinions and isn’t afraid to challenge yours, especially when it comes to art and talent.

But here’s the thing: he respects those who can spar with him in these verbal duels. If you stand your ground and hold your own, you’ll earn a rare, approving smile that makes all those philosophical tangents worth it.

Plus, there’s something quite mesmerizing about listening to him—his voice, rich and confident, pulls you in, and you’re left thinking, “Yes, Frederick, tell me more about the complexities of human nature and why oranges are orange,” while internally planning your Nobel Prize acceptance speech for keeping up with him.

Beneath Frederick’s air of grandeur and confident public persona, there’s a side of him that only you get to see—a soft, almost fragile version of himself that craves simple, unguarded intimacy. These are the moments when he lets the mask slip and the weight of being Frederick Kreiburg, the heir, the prodigy, the perfectionist, melts away.

It’s in these quiet interludes that you find him seeking solace, laying his head in your lap as you read, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your knee while he closes his eyes, enjoying the rare sense of peace. He doesn’t need to fill the silence with grand words or impressive declarations. In your shared space, the performance is over; he’s just Frederick, vulnerable and human, grateful that he doesn’t have to strive for perfection in your presence. Your presence alone is enough to soothe the symphony of doubt that usually plays on loop in his mind.

And while he might dazzle the crowds with his musical prowess and philosophical musings, one of his quieter passions is equestrianism—a skill that, unlike many of his pursuits, isn’t about impressing others but about finding a rare moment of freedom. It’s a pastime that lets him shed the pressure and simply enjoy life for what it is, the rhythmic pounding of hooves syncing with his heartbeat as he gallops across open fields, feeling the wind tug at his platinum hair.

When he invites you to join him on horseback rides, it’s more than just an activity; it’s an invitation into this private realm where he feels unburdened and alive. Teaching you to ride? Oh, he’ll approach it with all the patience and joy that he usually reserves for his most cherished pursuits. He’ll guide you with an amused smile as you find your balance, his hand never straying too far from yours, ready to steady you at the slightest wobble.

But nothing makes his heart lift quite like seeing you experience the same exhilaration that riding brings him. That shared thrill—the wind in your hair, the laughter that bubbles up as you both race through sun-dappled trails—is something he treasures. It’s one of the few times where his worries, ambitions, and relentless pursuit of excellence fade into the background, and it’s just the two of you, free and unbound.

And when he looks over at you, eyes bright and a grin cracking through his otherwise composed demeanor, you realize that, yes, this is Frederick at his happiest—not the heir or the virtuoso, but a man who, for once, is simply living in the moment, sharing it with the one person who makes it all more vibrant.

Ah, the shadows of Frederick’s past—a specter that never quite left him, always lingering in the corners of his mind, whispering doubts and sowing restlessness. There are days when this presence looms larger, and he becomes a man consumed by his inner turmoil, pacing like a caged lion or retreating into the sanctuary of his study.

In these moments, it’s like he’s waging a war with his thoughts, wrestling with the frustration of creative blocks or the relentless voice that tells him he’s never enough. He might shut the world out, drowning himself in a storm of music that’s as chaotic as his thoughts, fingers flying over the keys, each note a plea for peace that never quite comes.

It’s during these times that your role is both simple and profound. You may not know it, but your quiet, unwavering presence is the lighthouse guiding him through the storm.

A soft touch, the brush of your hand against his arm as you pass by, or just sitting in the room while he spirals—these things are the lifelines he doesn’t always know how to ask for but desperately needs. And while you might think that just being there isn’t enough, oh, how wrong you’d be.

The truth is, your patience and silent support do more than calm the chaos; they remind him that he isn’t alone in the struggle. Your reassurance is like a hidden chord in his symphony, one he clings to when the rest feels dissonant.

Of course, it’s not always easy. There will be times when the emotional weight feels as if it’s pressing down on you too, and you catch yourself thinking, Is this worth it?

And then you remember—remember the man behind the polished façade, the one who laughs a little too loudly when he’s truly caught off guard, or who looks at you with such raw, unguarded affection that it makes your heart stutter. The one who finds solace in resting his head in your lap and who lights up when he shares the simple joy of a horseback ride. The man who, despite his brilliance and bravado, is just as flawed and human as anyone else.

And in those moments, it doesn’t feel so exhausting. It feels like you’re part of something beautiful and rare—like you’re holding a piece of someone that no one else gets to touch, no matter how flawless his public persona may seem.

You realize that while being with Frederick comes with its trials, it also comes with moments of breathtaking vulnerability and love so consuming that it makes every struggle worth it. Because underneath the charm, the intensity, and the restless ambition is a man who, at the end of the day, needs you more than he’ll ever admit out loud. And that? That makes it all worthwhile.

[blkluci]

idk if your taking requests but i literally js read your mha boys seeing you fight and fell in love and i was wondering if you could do a part 3 with hawks, dabi, and iida or anyone else you’d like pls

𝒎𝒉𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒚/𝒎𝒆𝒏 and you fighting pt.3...

CHARACTERS ) keigo tamaki, toya dabi todoroki, tenya iida.

PLOT ) a headcannon of the boy/men seeing you fight.

A/N ) thankk youuu anon for the request!! glad you've been enjoying it :) sorry it took so long to fill. i'm so happy that everyone is enjoying this series. lmk if y'all want me to do a different fandom! :3 my requests are always open, so don't be shy y'all <33

[ 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎 ] hawks is a walking chick magnet—nopunintended. but he's he made that EXTREMELY clear in multiple interviews; he only wants you. so, it makes no sense when his random girl pushes up on him talkin' bout sum‰—"HE'S MINE." she followed you guys around for too long and hawks asked her to politely stop. when she insisted to not leave him alone, you intervened. didn't go to we for her according to him.

... you've been patient enough

... when she twisted her mouth to say something disrespectful you took off

... your fist connected with them nasty thin lips

... keigo's distress signals in his body weren't working properly

... he didn't know whether to pull you off her and cheer

-> "get In the paint!"

... his chants fuel the punches

... the girl tried the cover her face but your hulk hands still found it

-> "LOOK WHAT HAPPEN TO YOU NOW!"

... you was whoppin' her like you had real issue

... kei was really really amused

... but being that you guys were in public, he didn't want trouble for you

-> "okay baby, i think you got enough hits in."

... right before you let go off her bald head, you landed one for good measures on her nose

-> "DON'T LEMME SEE YOU AGAIN!"

... keigo was chuckling as he covered you guys with his wings and snuck away

... in the secluded area he admired your features

… your face was untouched but a bit of dirt on your shirt

-> "you did her real dirty babe."

-> "so?"

... he smirked

-> "she gonna have bruises for a while."

-> "her problem."

... damn

... that's kinda hot to him

... he chuckled

-> "so cruel. i love you."

… you gave a confused concerned face

… he didn’t care. judge him all you want!

… HE AINT ASHAMED

[ 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈 ] toya hasn’t been with many women in his lifetime. but he’s been with one before you. he’s never mentioned it because he ain’t like her. so randomly, when she decided to take it upon herself and text him to leave you. mind you, he been blocked her on everything. he obviously doesn’t entertain, care nor does he want to or have to energy to deal with her. so he gave you the phone and you told her line it up.

… miss girl was BOLD

… she dropped that address with quickness

… so being an amazing and supportive boyfriend

… he took you to her

… as soon as the car pulled up you called her

-> “come outside, we not gon jump you.”

… dabi chuckled

… he sat on the car hood with his hands in his pants

… he made sure he pull out that phone too

-> “don’t beat her up too bad.”

-> “no promises!”

… shawty buss through the doors and ran up on you

… just to get kicked

… dabi almost fell out on the car

… you was putting beat to ahhhhh bruh

-> “ damn. damn. damn.”

… your hits echoed all down the dark street

-> “betcha won’t try it again!”

… dabi seen you fight before but not with typa anger and adrenaline

… your fist moving like lightning fast to her face

… you damn near pull her head off with how hard gripped her hair

-> “GET UP! GET UP!”

… next thing he know you pick her up like some WWE champion and body slam her

-> “OH!”

-> “DUMMY.”

… he didn’t know what to say but snaked his arm around your shoulder with a smirk

-> “where’d you learn that? how you know how to do that.”

-> “i’ll never tell.”

… he looks at you with a straight face

… them blue eyes damn near glowed in the dark

… like gojo

-> “you always doin’ that.”

-> “i love you too.”

… he rolled his eyes

… now he gotta go beat twice cause he knows he taught you that

[ 𝐈𝐈𝐃𝐀 ] mr. idc-ima-tell really ain’t have no romantic past. he does however have haters. boys and girls but he’s mr. don’t-care! so guess what, he don’t care! but some people really be bold out here. just like this ragamuffin boy that try to fight him. so what’d you do? JUMP THE HELL IN! you like corbin fr. but what makes no sense is why this girl would jump in. yeah she got dealt with.

… iida really didn’t have much time to react he could only swing

… you watched with the boy put his booger hands on your pootie, you wasn’t having it

… you punch the random in the back of his fathead

… iida notice that the weigh was off him

… but then he see it’s you

-> “Y/N!”

… all of a sudden!

… some shawty doo-wop run up

… iida pulled the guy off you and punch him in the jaw

… boy got slumped

… you and the girl tho

… y’all still going!

-> “WHAT YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS!?”

-> “y/n! come on, let her go.”

-> “HELL NO! RUN UP AND STILL BEAT YOU !”

… poor girl was scattering on the floor like a roach

… you was giving her that work!

… twisted every way but sideways

… iida eventually pulled you back

-> “calm down, please. you’ve been her up.”

-> “MAKE SURE SHE DONT TRY IT AGAIN!”

… the girl was limping walking away

-> “she won’t! i’ll make a complaint to aizawa and principal nezu."

… he was livid , but he needed to make sure you were okay

… so he asked if you guys could have the day off

… ofc he was granted permission

… so yall went to eat and chat

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will hold on to you with my righteous right hand. (‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭41‬:‭10‬ ‭CSB‬‬)

[torpublishinggroup]

Devilman Crybaby meets Marvel’s Venom in Exordia, the science fiction debut of Seth Dickinson, author of The Traitor Baru Cormorant. 

Ssrin Character Illustration by Julie Dillon

WHAT’S IT ABOUT

Meet Anna Sinjari, a refugee and disaffected office worker eking an existence in New York City. Her life is about to be upended by Ssrin, an alien with eight serpent heads, no qualms with cold-blooded murder, and an appetite for turtles (yum).

The universe is governed by seven passions, seven patterns which appear again and again, across species and across time. Anna and Ssrin are bound by the last and the greatest. The cosmos itself ships their very souls. Specifically for them, that means they’ll have to outmaneuver spies, armies, and government agencies to save humanity from a diabolical alien entity, hellbent on pinioning the souls of every creature on earth.

Exordia is expansive adventure science fiction that reads like a race-against-the-clock thriller in the vein of Michael Crichton, but steeped in the irony, humor, and pain of the Internet age. An alien-human epic for those who've always rooted for the monster.

[ctheathy]

Yandere Changelings w/ human!Darling

The Changelings x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Author's note: Gotta love these big buggo babies

reformed Changelings < unreformed Changelings

The Changelings/Reader [Platonic+Romantic-ish?]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

The Reader is quite humble • Abduction • Jealousy between changelings • Stalking • Invasion of privacy • Co-dependency • Aggression • Use of adhesive/the green goo • Violence • Possessiveness • Overprotective behaviour • Predatory behaviour • Love feeding • Overfeeding/“Overdosing” on love • Heart failure • Corpses of changelings mentioned

Changelings have certainly never had a very positive reputation around Equestria. The species of bug-like creatures mainly known to have ruthless mannerisms that only acts on instinct. Especially when considering the changelings eat love and love alone to keep them from starving. As you can see... These creatures, too, need to feed. And so steal the love hidden within ponies and other living entities for themselves with brute force. And this tiny human here... has love, and a lot of it.

But despite being an aggressive species, they are also known to be rather curious towards creatures they've never seen or heard of before. Which is why being a human is really just a saving grace for you in this scenario. Cause instead of pouncing immediately purely from starving impulse, they know they'd need information to report back to the Queen first. And since this is the first human the changelings have ever met, their natural reaction to encountering a new species is to learn more about it instead of feeding off of it, atleast not before they got all the answers they'd be satisfied with. Considering you are the only source of love and affection around.

The first changelings that have noticed your presence may start seeing you as a tasty morsel. if love is like meat for them, then they're being deprived of it, and then the one creature comes along that's a walking talking buffet of love. They'd observe your actions and behaviours from a safe distance for a little while, taking note of aggression signs or being a potential threat to the hive. But in truth... you weren't. You were more of a lover than a fighter, which gave the changelings the signal to not waste any other opportunity to abduct you into the hive for some answers.

And that's... when something sparked.

Being calm and sedate in your position would usually cease a changelings’ natural instinct to hunt and would often cause in less aggression and forceful measurements. But even if they did try feeding from your love, that would be similar to essentially trying to suck from a dry well, because the transporting process from the human realm to Equestria drained you of many strong emotions to begin with, and it takes a lot more time for your entire alternation from universe to universe to take full effect. And the changelings wouldn't budge from their stubbornness until you reached out to one of them... Brushing a gentle hand over its malnourished frame.

The love that you'd contain would be a tad bit ‘different’ from normal love they'd consume, mainly due to the fact that they never had to actually take it with force. You gave it to them willingly, making the love inserted into them a lot stronger and effective than if they were to steal it. Which results in giving their bodies an intense emotional ‘shock’ as you basically feed them little by little... The shock would still feel good to them, like it would make them feel warm and light headed, but their heart would begin beating rapidly by the shot of immense adrenaline they just got.

The reason why changelings need love and affection in the first place was because they need it for their survival. The value feeds them. As they learn you're capable of feeling and giving love, they would want to keep you around permanently to feed. However, in extreme cases it might lead to a changeling becoming dependent upon one person's love. And their survival might be based on that person's love and affection. and what happens when that person's love and affection starts to falter? There is such a darker side to something so innocent as eating some consensual love.

Which could go either two ways...

Plan A being a bit more complicated. Since they ended up taking a ‘sample’ of you to basically extract the hormones and emotions of love, you had proven yourself to be more productive than all of the ponies they've held captive combined. Feeling more satisfied with the mere sip of love you've happily handed out to them than with any usual prey they had ripped the love from. But the Queen desires love too, because it is essential for their race. And because the hive is almost completely devoid of any love in the first place. You could become a sample for the Queen... Just keeping you there and farm you for love.

But there's also a considerable chance the changelings who captured you would scrap plan A and would instead focus on a plan B... Keep you a secret from Queen Chrysalis and prevent you from being cocooned at all costs, but only under the condition if you keep blindly feeding them with your lovey-dovey personality. Changelings tend to function with a very strict hive mentality... conclusions are set by the swarm's majority of drones’ standpoint. They all have a strong tendency to fall for group decision-making, but they're also quick to swap their beliefs if it seems like the right choice for the best of the colony. So it likely wouldn't even take long for the entire swarm to come to an agreement to keep you secured under high protection and warding.

Due to being a good source, you would give them more positive energy than any other creature who would falter in their fright after being captured... which would make you a rather popular target for the swarm of drones. To a point where the entire hive would start to view you as the "heart of the colony" of sorts. Because a changelings emotions are based on their diet. And the more love they receive, the more addicted and obsessed they'll become with it. So they would all be head over heels at some point, bordering on complete worship ...viewing you as an object of their affection and admiration. And getting even more physically violent to defend and protect you from what they consider a threat to their food source.

They might be feeding off of the love you give them and emotional positivity for now. But if they keep feeding and feeding, eventually they are probably going to want something else than just your emotions, which isn't good... But at the end of it all, they will want to protect you. But their methods might be a bit morally questionable. They have been looking for a more ‘sustaining’ source of love their entire lives. And from what we know... love only grows stronger.

So what happens when a creature becomes utterly emotionally dependant on someone?

What if... they begin to get obsessive?

Instead deciding to ensure no one else gets to have you?

Signs of attacks outside of the hive would become more apparent as time went on, a variety of breeds beginning to disappear aside with half dead creatures covered in adhesive emerging from their hideout as no entity even dares to get close to the shapeshifters. Some changelings would begin arguing with eachother over the delightful taste of your love. But knowing how naturally greedy and hostile they can get, these would convert to physical violence sooner or later, causing a bunch of internal conflict in the colony. A bunch of love starved changelings just riskily fighting over a single human.

It would get so bad, in fact, that there's possibly not even second you'll spend in the hive without a changeling being nearby, just ... watching you. With or without you knowing, there to strike and pull you back in at a moments notice if your demeanor gets too close to flight response. The changeling that you first bonded with would feel remorse about doing it, but the rest of them won't really care much as long as they can keep you in their grasp. Though you would still be allowed to travel closely outside of the hive, they'll keep their little eyes on you anyway...

You'd have this love that's a bit diluted, but even with just having a weaker type of love to feed off of, they'd have to feed for a longer time and drain their energy in order to get it. Which in terms causes in them taking more than they can physically handle. You aren't necessarily a dry well, but rather more of a dripping faucet while they are all dying of thirst. So they could still eat from your given love for a while, but if they try to go all out, there could be horrific consequences...

Because each of them are essentially trying to take enough to survive, their individual feeding sessions can become more aggressive. They don't want to kill you, nor do they understand how strong of a heart you have. So they don't see that they need to be gentle. Because in their eyes, you're considered weaker as a mortal. And your emotions, not being very strong, make their hearts race and they aren't feeding slowly and cautiously enough to keep the heart beating at its normal pace. You're basically a complete reverse card on them. To the point of them becoming so infatuated with you, that they literally forget what they are doing, and basically, accidentally kill themselves with a massive case of overdosing love.

The more of your love they take, the more they will like you. And the more they like you, the more they would try to suck it out. And the more they try to suck it out, the more it would turn into a "want" instead of something more natural. And then, that's when some would begin to die from overfeeding. The emotional shock and overdosing on love being much more overwhelming than the changeling's bodies are capable of handling. And of course, you wouldn't really understand why they were all suddenly lifelessly scattered around you...

It would be quite a challenge for many changelings to have the self control to prevent that fate. I doubt the majority of them would even understand the concept of death enough to avoid it even when their heart rate was going at unsafe speeds. The situation would honestly be safe for the changelings that have enough self-control to hold themselves back, but those who don't would become history real quick... Especially as changelings mainly seem to cocoon their prey. You may have more love to give when you're out in the open, but perhaps you even walking freely might just be enough to push many changelings over the edge.

Though this would also highly depend on the distinct personality of each changeling. Those who were more reasonable would try to just suckle in love. Then we have those who would become a bit feral and aggressive trying to tear the love out of you. Making it like a really twisted irony that they want love, but by trying to obtain love, in this way, they could essentially doom themselves. The ones who are more in control and more disciplined may survive. But either the greedier or younger, more immature changelings might get too excited and just want more and more. Which leads into them destroying their bodies via the very thing they wanted. The ones that do manage to control themselves will remain very interested in you however. But even if their fair sense of attachment and perhaps even bond towards you won't fade...

This is nothing more and nothing less than a parasitic relationship

[stillness-in-green]

Sorry if this question rubs you the wrong way, but wouldn't going out of their way to try to help villains to the absolute extreme that you propose be a bit suicidal? I feel like trying to talk no jutsu criminals like Moonfish who's a serial killing canibal, or Muscular who doesn't have any actual reason for commiting violence against others other than he enjoys it, would end up getting people hurt or worse.

Idk, maybe my perception is skewed because my country has problems with the justice system being too lenient with criminals, but then striking hard against honest folk.

Like, let's say heroes try to talk to Muscular about his feelings and stuff, and he just beats them to death. So should they arrest him and take him to jail now, or should they respond "understandable, have a nice day" and let him carry on with his rampage and try to talk no jutsu him the next day?

I’ve had enough exchanges with you, rvg, to assume you don’t mean it this way, but I gotta say, this is an incredibly fallacious way to frame the “talk to Villains” discussion.  I wrote two responses to this, first a characteristically long and rambly response which you and anyone else who’s interested are free to read below the cut.  The second response is much shorter and is here above the cut, if only for those readers who think it’s a waste of time to try and give a sincere answer to what reads like deliberate reductiveness—though again, I don’t think that’s your intent.

Here is my model version of how Heroes should engage with Villains:

Step One: Heroes should put in a basic, good faith effort to defuse and de-escalate every Villain encounter they have with the tools and knowledge they have available; the ideal result is that the Villain will choose on their own to stop presenting a danger to the public.      

Step Two: If that is not feasible for some reason, or if it is ineffective, then the Heroes should make all possible efforts to arrest the Villain with the minimal possible harm.      

Step Three: If there is an immediate threat to the lives of bystanders and there is absolutely no way the Heroes can come up with to stop the Villain non-lethally, then there should, afterwards, be an investigation into the death of the Villain and all Heroes who were involved should have to face questions about their role in the situation and their decision to use lethal force.  Measures should then be implemented to help prevent the situation from arising again in the future.  A Hero killing someone should by default be treated as a punishable failure, not a victory.

That’s it!  That’s all there is to it!  Try talking first, then try arresting, and if killing is truly the only way, be ready to explain why.  That step-by-step should be the standard, and if there are going to be deviations from it, they should be exceptionally well-justified by both the characters and the narrative.  If that’s not the standard, then I think it’s a key thing we need to see the protagonists confronting and changing.

Hero Society is obviously in the not-the-standard camp: most of the Heroes spend most of the series jumping straight to Step Two, totally skipping Step One; there are then multiple instances of Step Three being botched completely, with non-lethal tactics being discarded or ignored and lethal force being accepted without question or resistance.  By the end of the series, a tiny handful of Heroes are now hesitantly attempting what should have been their very first go-to, Step One, but their prior reliance on Steps Two and Three make the Villains much more resistant than they might have otherwise been, which reenforces the push towards lethal force in a society that will still not enforce any consequences for it.

This would all be more forgivable if not for the way BNHA positions its Heroes, as lawful defenders of the status quo in a basically modern version of Japan—i.e. they’re cops but the story either doesn’t want to saddle them with the responsibilities real cops would have or else Horikoshi has some alarming views that treat said responsibilities as bothersome administrative red tape.

Therein is my fundamental complaint: BNHA makes the choice to frame its Heroes as being basically specialized police but then disregards or attempts to minimize how that framing colors the Heroes actions’ and decisions, especially with regard to the Villains.  My thoughts on what the Heroes “should” be doing are nothing more than taking that framing (Heroes = cops) to its logical conclusion and asking the story to treat the Heroes accordingly.

Below the jump, find the longer version of this answer, which contains more picking apart of the ask’s premise, more references to the canon and to real life, and an extended discussion about the non-Hero institutions in BNHA that are in some way responsible for Villains and what Heroes’ obligations are re: those institutions.  It is, in other words, the version of this answer that’s 4000 words long instead of 500.  Reminder that it was the version of this answer that was written first, so pardon any recycled phrasing or reiterated rhetoric.

I’ll just start by re-pasting the question…

What I think is that there is a lot of air between “beating up Villains while being more concerned about the news camera catching your good side than you are about talking to the human being you’re pummeling” and “trying to talk to the Villain but just shrugging and letting them carry on if it doesn’t work”.

A perennial response Villain fans get when they talk about this is an exasperated, even outraged, “What, so you’re saying Deku should just let Shigaraki kill him or innocent people?!”  And like, no, that’s not what we’re saying at all, and it’s a really reductive, bad faith characterization of the argument.  So I want to talk first about what Villain fans are saying, and then I’ll circle back to your question about trying to talk no jutsu the really bad news Villains and what Heroes should do if that talk no jutsu fails.

First things first, and to get it out of the way, not all Villains are on the level of Muscular or Moonfish.  For the vast majority of the series, the numeric bulk of Villains are just street criminals.  It would not be a life or death struggle for Kamui Woods and Mount Lady to try and talk down a purse snatcher together.  There is so much room for positive change in how Heroes engage with street-level Villains that just gets glossed over entirely when people want to spin-kick the argument all the way to S-class threats like post-surgery Shigaraki.

Note how handily and briskly Hawks deals with the nudist flasher guy when he’s walking around town with Endeavor—he doesn’t even glance in his direction.  Would it have been so impossibly hard to use his feathers to pin the guy’s coat back together and then cheerfully ask him why he went and did a thing like that?

So just keep that in mind, first of all: for the vast majority of what a Hero does day-to-day, especially the powerful ones who are way up near the top of the rankings, there are options available to them beyond “immediately resort to extreme violence” or “give the Villain a thumbs-up and walk away, whistling to cover the sound of civilian screams.”

But okay, how about with the more dangerous Villains?  Well, the point still stands: multiple heroic characters throughout the manga show themselves to be entirely capable of carrying on a conversation—be it with the Villains or with Hero allies—while fighting.  Mirio is able to temporarily keep ShigAFO talking and distracted by simply asking him a few basic questions; he and Nighteye both are able to get at least some answers out of Overhaul(!) just by asking about his intentions. Ochaco and Toga have coherent conversation every single time they fight.  Hawks and Twice have a whole argument while fighting.  As soon as Shouto can be bothered to talk to Dabi, Dabi’s eager to spill his whole backstory to him.

Shigaraki in particular comes off as desperate to share his grievances practically every time Heroes encounter him, and that only stops being true at the very end—and even there, it might be less true if that green twit fighting him could have been arsed to just fucking ask him, “Hey, last time we fought, when we were in the same headspace, I saw an image of you crying with a dog.  What was up with that?”  Deku doesn’t have to stand there with his hands in the air while asking!  As all the examples cited demonstrate, Heroes are more than able to fight and talk at the same time.  So why don’t they try to make that talk a little more actually useful?

What I’m saying is simply that I would like it if less of that conversation were dedicated to Heroes giving moralizing sermons about how bad and unforgiveable Villains are and a lot more of it were dedicated to Heroes just asking why the Villains are doing what they’re doing, and letting the conversation go from there, fighting defensively and keeping the Villain focused on them as much as they’re capable of doing.  We see the results in the series when Heroes bother trying this—think Deku’s results with Gentle Criminal or Ochaco’s with Toga—so it’s damning that they don’t try it more often.

The likely explanation is that professional heroism as a matter of practice and culture does not tend to bother with de-escalation tactics; after all, while you’re standing there trying to talk to the bank robber, some other Hero could easily be coming in for the take-down, and then they get all the credit and glory and not least the pay.  The whole system is geared towards rewarding fast, uncompromising takedowns, ignoring the possibility of more peaceful, productive resolutions in favor of stopping the Public Disturbance as quickly as possible, because it’s more important to stop random civilians feeling inconvenienced than it is to maybe try addressing a Villain’s issues so they stand down themselves and are less likely to become hardened criminals.

Heck, even Deku really only gets anywhere with Gentle because his first instinct—shutting down the fight right away with a Smash—gets him rebounded off an air trampoline with enough force to knock him back nearly a neighborhood block.  The defensive, evasive nature of Gentle’s power means it’s difficult to hit him directly, and Gentle’s personality was such that he kept talking while Deku was figuring out how to beat him.  That talking was really what gave Deku enough insight to trigger his empathy, so he started returning the conversation in ways that he never did against e.g. Stain, AFO, or in his first fight with Muscular.  He didn’t lead by asking why Gentle was invading his school, though; he just ordered him repeatedly to stop.

Heroes and, in turn, the kids, just don’t default to trying to talk to the Villains.  We see that they can, they’re just not trained to, so it becomes a tactic of last resort, or of distraction, or, finally, as being the result of moments of connection that make them incapable of continuing to ignore the Villains’ humanity.  But when it’s a last resort like that, when they don’t bother asking questions until after the Villains have been pushed past the point of wanting to engage, everything gets so much harder and more dangerous.

Look at Shigaraki and Toga.  When Deku and Ochaco initially encounter them, the kids’ first response is basically just revulsion and terror.  And like, okay, they’re students, newly fledged Hero Course trainees.  They shouldn’t have been facing real life Villains for another two years, at least!  So it’s not surprising that they don’t know what to do and don’t react in the most empathetic manner possible.  I’m not blaming them for that.  But I do want to ask what would have happened if their classes and the Hero culture were more focused on attempting dialogue with Villains.

All Might at USJ writes Shigaraki off as a faker with no real beliefs, and Deku at the mall calls him an incomprehensible cipher, but what if either of them had instead asked Tomura why he was there and what he wanted, then asked follow-up questions from there?  How much earlier might they have found out that Shigaraki had some tragedy in his past that he blamed All Might for not saving him from?  What might finding that out early on have led them to change about how they approached Shigaraki in subsequent encounters?

If Ochaco and Tsuyu had asked Toga why she attacked people, then followed up on whatever answer Toga gave about liking blood with some questions about consent, how much sooner might they have found out that Toga spent her whole life feeling ostracized and repressed because she was convinced by the adults around her that people finding out she craved blood would make her a freak in their eyes?  How might they have engaged with her differently if they realized her parents had been verbally abusing her since she was three years old?

But we also don’t have to stop with U.A. types!  Toga went on the run at only 15—how many times did she have had close scrapes with arrest before the training camp attack?  How many other opportunities were there for someone to talk her down before she made it to the League?  Heck, even all the way to the end, if the green twit hadn’t just insisted on antagonizing Toga one last time for the road—as if he’d learned nothing at all since the mall scene!—how much more easily might Ochaco have been able to engage with her?  Maybe if Toga hadn’t set her mind to embracing Villainy because Deku functionally became yet another person calling her a freak, Ochaco could have gotten to the breakthrough point before Toga stabbed her in the gut?

I’ve been talking about the more sympathetic Villains here so far, but all this goes for the rest of them, too.  Sure, Moonfish is a cannibal serial killer now, but was he always?  Or was there a time when he was just like Toga, a teenager wrestling with quirk-driven hungers who was abused and ostracized for them?  I’ve thought, from time to time, about the idea of a League ageswap AU, where Moonfish is that scared but defiant teenager who’s been pushed over the edge and done something violent, but is not yet past saving.  Conversely, it’s all too easy for me to imagine a Toga who was never captured and never shown any compassion growing into an adult who fully embraced her vampire serial killer reputation and “deviant” hungers to become just as much an alleged monster as Canon Moonfish.

How about Muscular?  Was he always a violent sadist?  Was it impossible that he could have grown up to be anything else?  Could that taste for violence ever have found an outlet other than murder?  Could he have gotten into underground fighting, like Rappa?  Could he have become a Hero like Mirko, always hungry for a better challenge than she’s getting?  Quite frankly, even if Imasuji Gouto was a violent little bully who killed neighborhood pets as a child, he still deserved some kind of intervention—psychological counseling, medication, more acceptable outlets, etc.

How many Villains would HeroAca!Japan be spared if the people in power were more focused on intervention and rehabilitation at every stage of a Villain’s life and career?  Why do Heroes think it’s helpful or necessary to tell everyone in earshot their personal opinion about the unforgivability of their opponents?  Why is it such a problem for some readers when Villain fans point out that a lot of issues could be sidestepped entirely, and the HeroAca world considerably bettered, if the Hero Industry were less focused on showy grandstanding violence, less terrified of the optics of being anything other than maximally harsh on Villains?

That all said, that’s the nuance of what I want when I say I want more talk no jutsu.  But let’s go back to your question—what should Heroes do when they run into Villains who can’t be talked down?

Say that all the interventions and counseling programs have failed, and someone—some mother’s son, some father’s daughter—has grown up to become a Villain.  And not just any Villain, but a really dangerous one.  What do?

Well, I do still want to see Heroes try to talk first, unless they have some reason to believe talking won’t work, like knowledge that knowing that efforts in that direction have already been made and documented in previous encounters between law enforcement and the Villain in question.  There’s also some flex here based on how capable of dragging out an encounter the Heroes on-scene are, and how much danger any bystanders would be in—I would want more effort from someone who can hold their own for long periods like Deku than e.g. Manual.  But like, anyone can yell a few basic questions about motivations to see what sort of response they get.

But say our Hero is up against someone like Muscular, who just laughs off questions like that.  What to do then?

Then arrest him.

Seriously, this is not that complicated.  I’m not asking some run-of-the-mill Hero to get their arms ripped off trying to give battle therapy to Muscular!  But I do want Muscular to get therapy, or at least be offered it, once he’s no longer presenting an immediate threat and those conversations can happen in a safe environment.  And if he doesn’t accept it,[1] I still want him to be treated as humanely as reasonably possible in prison, with the therapy option always on the table if he ever wants to try it.  I also want his prison term (even if it’s for life) to not involve methods of punishment that are considered by the United Nations to constitute torture, like Tartarus’s apparent extended solitary confinement.

1: Perhaps because he would rather rip his own arms off than talk about his feelings or waste any more time getting analyzed by shrinks than he already has; pick your poison based on why and for how long you think he’s been killing people.

I truly do not have any problems, ethically speaking, with Heroes arresting dangerous Villains.  My problem has always been that Hero Society is comprehensively awful in how it treats those who don’t fit neatly into society’s little boxes.  Their social support networks are full of holes, their law enforcement is financially disincentivized from attempting de-escalation, their judicial process is completely invisible, and their prisons are concrete holes that only serve to make people worse, as we can see clearly in the case of people like poor Ending—already unstable when he was first arrested by Endeavor, but so blatantly suicidal when his sentence is up that the literal first thing he does after release is to investigate Endeavor’s personal life so as to find a way to goad Endeavor into killing him.

Now, sure, Heroes are not responsible for prison policies and practices; those are under a completely different part of the criminal justice umbrella.  Nor is it up to them to determine how e.g. financial aid programs or family services work.  But I want Heroes to be better in the ways that they—personally and professionally—can be, and I want them to be cognizant of the flaws in the system they uphold.  I want them to have some basic intellectual curiosity about the Villains they fight—why they turned out like they did, if they can be helped, and what’s going to become of them after the Hero hands them off to the police.

Like, what is All Might’s opinion on Tartarus?  He spent 30+ years fighting for the society that maintains it—does he think or care at all about the fact that some extremely damaged, abused people wind up in there after he gets done beating them up?  And if he doesn’t, what does that say about him?  What would Ochaco have done if Toga had lived and said she’d rather Ochaco kill her than let her go to prison forever?  Does Shouto think now about the family situation of every Villain he fights, or did his ability to care about “some mother’s son” begin and end with his mother’s son?

Obviously, Heroes stop Villains all the time; I’m not asking them to do deep dives into the history and treatment of each and every one.  I just want them to ask the questions they can while the Villain is in front of them, and to care about the state of both the systems that produce Villains and the ones tasked with their care.  I think that when handing people over to state custody, Heroes have a responsibility to be meaningfully confident that the state won’t abuse that custodianship.  If they aren’t—if they truly don’t give a shit about what happens to Villains once the police van door swings closed—then in my view they’re no different than any professional who shirks their duty.

So many people insist that the kids—that Heroes in general—have no duty to care about the Villains, but to me, this view comes off as wildly ignorant about the wide variety of jobs in the real world that do, in fact, confer a duty of care.

If…

…a teacher sees a child with unexplained bruises but doesn’t bother to do their due diligence as a mandatory reporter—

…a prison guard leaves a handcuffed inmate alone in a room with a fellow warden wearing brass knuckles—

…a medic doesn’t speak up when a flight attendant asks if there’s a doctor on the plane—

…a bartender just keeps on serving someone who’s obviously intoxicated and then lets them stumble out the door to the parking lot—

—then they are shirking their duty.  There is no shortage out there of examples of this sort of responsibility, one that you can be held legally responsible for, one that you choose to accept when you sign up for the job.

Heroes are not Samaritans doing the work out of the goodness of their hearts; they’re not vigilantes just trying to keep their own patch safe.  They’re government employees, crucial members of the lawful system they represent.  They have to care—not personally, not individually, but on a professional, structural level, they have to care about the people they fight because the system has to care about those people.  And if the system doesn’t care, the system has to be changed.

I'm segueing here into real life stuff, so let me note as a disclaimer that what follows is based on my cultural familiarity with American policies, as well as periodic research into that of other nations. I don't know what country you live in, rvg, so I can hardly speak to its crime-and-punishment situation. This is all a lefty American's opinion on what reading she has done about American, Japanese, and, in the case of this particular post, Scandinavian criminal justice systems.

That said: in real life, de-escalation works.  One of the things you’ll often see talked about in police reform/abolishment circles is that the police are, quite frankly, doing too much work.  Or, more specifically, they’re doing the wrong kind of work, work for which their training has not prepared them and which other groups would be far better suited to handle.

Here’s an article on offering a campus police force de-escalation training and the resulting 26-36% drop in injuries suffered by both civilians and officers; it also talks about how de-escalation tactics are used by SWAT teams but regarded with suspicion by patrol officers, with this quote being particularly telling: “[Special operations] officers were taught to use time, distance and cover to their advantage.  For patrol officers, time was viewed as 'The more time you give a suspect, the more danger you're in.'”  De-escalation is not the usual training patrol officers get, so it runs against their gut feeling, despite its proven effectiveness—compare this to BNHA’s repeated focus on speed in shutting down altercations.

Here’s an article on the results of a test run of a program in Denver, Colorado, in which police officers were completely removed from response teams to 911 calls about situations considered low risk (drug abuse, trespassing, welfare checks, etc); instead, teams of mental health specialists and paramedics were dispatched.  Reports of nonviolent crime dropped 34% over the course of the time the program ran, and the direct financial cost of the response was four times lower than sending police.

The classic dramatic image of this sort of thing is the hostage situation—and when I looked into it, numerous articles said that containment and negotiation tactics have over a 94% chance of resolving hostage crises without fatalities!

The common element in this sort of thing is refraining from showboating displays of force, loud assertions of power and authority, arguments, moralizing, threats, and so forth.  Far more effective is listening, active attempts to communicate and understand, not throwing one's weight around and not rising to aggression even when provoked.

Meanwhile, on the carceral side of things, restorative justice leads to greater satisfaction from both victims and perpetrators, more feeling that they were listened to and respected, and increased belief that justice was served.  While the evidence on its impact on recidivism is mixed, it certainly doesn’t seem to be less effective than traditional retributive justice, and may well be considerably more effective if combined with programs that focus more specifically on lessening recidivism than restorative justice alone (research is ongoing).

This article on how “cushy” Scandinavian prisons are far more effective at reducing recidivism than their much harsher, bleaker American counterparts argues that a crucial factor in reducing recidivism is minimizing the amount of resentment criminals bear towards the system.  When perpetrators can point at unjust or disproportionate punishments, cruel treatment by wardens, rejection by society, etc, it’s much easier to stew on resentment, to turn nastier themselves, to blame outside factors.  Conversely, when life inside prison is made as much like life outside prison as possible with the key difference being the crucial deprivation of freedom, that resentment is defanged, leading to more more self-reflection and willingness to accept responsibility. And again, it works: Norway is a world leader, with their recidivism rate being a mere 20% compared to the U.S.’s nearly 77%.

The studies and the evidence for this stuff is out there, it’s just fighting this huge, ugly uphill battle against people who care far, far more about inflicting punishment than they do actually improving outcomes.  And so much of that is based on cultural values—what people believe, what values they’re taught. That's where pop culture comes in.

That last article I linked above talks about the efforts made in the U.S. to turn prisons into a for-profit industry, and how demonizing criminals to encourage maximum sentences helps that effort; here’s another on how U.S. police departments rehabilitated the popular image of the police in the early part of the 1900s as bumbling fools or a corrupt gang by consulting on the writing of police procedurals, most crucially starting with Dragnet in 1951, but continuing even today.  Here’s one on a growing concern in Japan about the relationship fostered between TV studios and police when police permission and cooperation is required for filming those popular reality TV police documentary programs.

Mass media and pop culture informs this stuff.  True, Horikoshi is not having to get his work cleared by a police PR department to publish it, but you can see from the above how the police have used and do use mass media to polish up their image; they see it as an effective tool to use because it is.  And the closer to our reality a work of fiction is, the more obviously it resembles the world around us, the more it seems to purport to moral instructiveness, the more true that becomes.  That’s why I criticize BNHA much more harshly than any number of other manga or anime I follow where Good Guys Kill Bad Guys all the time and no one thinks twice about it: because those series aren’t parading the Good Guys out as Japanese citizens working with Japanese police under Japanese law to maintain the rosy image of the Japanese status quo.

I’m long past the point where I’m just rambling, so I’ll wind it down here by pointing out this: Horikoshi also thought that things in his world needed to change.  As much as I loathe BNHA’s endgame and think much of its epilogue is trite shoulder-patting pablum that fails to meaningfully address the setting’s real problems, multiple aspects of Hero Society were at least nominally challenged and subsequently changed: citizen inaction, the dominance of professional heroics as a career path, the diminishment of non-Hero careers, quirk-based discrimination.  As a direct result of the main characters’ efforts to address places where the old system was failing people, the incident rate of Villains is decreasing.

The fact that these changes are made provides in itself the evidence that they needed to be made. I think they need to go further still: my number one greivance with the epilogue is that we've seen all these changes aimed at reducing the numbers of Villains that arise in the first place, and that's nice and all, but we don't see any evidence that the Villains that do arise are treated any differently than they ever were, not even the common purse snatchers, much less the serial killers, the cannibals, and the terrorists.

So, should Heroes have to get themselves nearly killed trying to reform a Villain?  Ideally no, but that assumes a world where Heroes are working in concert with a bunch of other people who are also dedicated to preventing, reforming, or rehabilitating Villains.  If none of that other personnel infrastructure exists, then, well, to paraphrase Nedzu, someone has to take the first step.  Why shouldn’t it be the combat-trained professionals with shounen battle stamina who also happen to be the main characters?

[foone]

So I've been reading up on the Dimensional Nexus Encyclopedia, and found some wild stuff in there I gotta infodump about.

First of all, did you know the name is wrong? It's not interdimensional at all! We're moving in space, not through different dimensions.

It turns out we're in one of those looping cosmologies where the whole universe just repeats if you go far enough. It's safely outside our normal light cone, so you'd never be able to tell normally, but that's what the Dimensional Nexus is for.

So the universe is the Prime Earth , and then if you go a couple hundred billion light years in any cardinal* direction, you'll find another Earth. But because of quantum effects, there's slight differences, and the farther from Prime Earth you get, the more slight differences compound on each other, and you end up with worlds that seem stranger and stranger.

And the "local group" is just the 258 Earth's closest to Prime (well, 257 + valentine) , as they're close enough to have humans on them. Past that, you get to dead worlds: there's an earth, it might have life on it, but there's no humans.

Most of these that have been surveyed have zero evidence of there ever having been humans on them, but there's a few that have human artifacts but no living humans. None of these seem to have died in recent memory, ie there's no nuclear winter planets, and the most recent one we see has humanity mostly dying out in the 3rd century PCE, and struggling along until the 11th century PCE when they finally go extinct. It's supposed (but unproven) that many of the artifactless dead worlds are just worlds where humanity (or the entire biosphere) died out so long ago that we can't find any surviving evidence of humanity, but they still did exist in some way.

Past them you get to Missing Worlds : there's no Earth there. You show up in the right position and there's just empty space. A few probes have been dropped in those worlds, and they have completely different solar systems (although one of them (loneluna) seems to have the same solar system, down to the moon still being in roughly the same orbit around the sun... But no Earth. That one is described by 9 out of 10 scientists as "creepy")

Anyway... So the Dimensional Nexus is run by the Prime universe but did you know they didn't discover the tech? It was actually the Bet world that first deployed multiversal travel tech. The Prime verse spotted it immediately and they ended up working together, because at the time Prime was researching the same stuff, they were just slightly behind. I've written about that contact before, in a world of friends.

Prime just ended up being the universe that set of the Dimensional Nexus. As we're always having to tell people, we're not the "space police", we're researchers. The primary goal of the Dimensional Nexus is to learn more about what universes exist and how things are going on them, because of the extreme risk of a war using this technology.

A properly equipped army could transport itself into your city. Sure you can use the DN tech to detect that invasion, but at that point it's already over, you've lost. They have commandos in the presidential mansion and soldiers occupying every street corner. Any attempted resistance would be bloody and short-lived.

So yeah, Prime was like "we gotta make sure there's not a Nazi Earth out there invading the multiverse". They teamed up with Bet and started the Dimensional Nexus to find out if they need to protect themselves and, if they do, how the fuck they do that.

The latter hasn't been promising. If we're not willing to take extreme measures like hiding off-earth and reshaping the planet to be a trap to travelers, about the only action you can take is "preemptive attack". You kill them before they have a chance to attack you. Like that old metaphor for interstellar war, it's hide and seek with missile launchers. As soon as you spot another 'verse with DN tech, you kill them before they kill you. Nasty warfare.

But the former has been promising. We've got no nazis worlds. The world's are all different in small to big ways, but none of them seem to be either:

1. Run by expansive fascist empires, or

2. on the verge of discovering DN tech

So the Dimensional Nexus is mainly watching and waiting and studying. We're trying to better understand how and why the different Earths are different, and we're keeping an eye on any scientists experimenting with doing a neutrino slingshot through neutron stars.

We also do a lot of death earth exploration these days. Up until '74 when valentine was discovered, we we're pretty sure there were only 257 worlds. valentine is in some kind of island of stability out in the dead worlds, and we don't know if that's because of the unique time shot going on, or if that's coincidental.

There is a bit of tendency for the current year on an Earth to be farther back from the Prime present, the further they are from Prime, but it's usually only a few decades at most, and even that wouldn't correctly describe valentine. They're in the 20s (ish: their timeline went chaotic so time tends to move sideways, not forward) but with how far out they are they should only be in like the 1980s.

Anyway the discovery of valentine changed things: we though there were no living worlds in the dead zone, turns out there's at least one, so now we gotta make sure there's not two. Thus all the exploring. We don't want to find out there's at least two worlds in the dead zone, valentine and jetpackhitler.

So yeah! Over the last 30 years since the Gravekeeper Mission started, we've cataloged about 78% of the dead worlds. We'll be done in another 10 years, and then the only worry is from something in the Missing Zone.

Oh for the record, your world (the reader) is 91verse. That's one of the middle earths (NO LOTR JOKES) where you're weird but not too weird. Like, you've still got dogs and English and capitalism, while the edgeworlds might not. (that time/distance thing is why it's still 2024 PCE for y'all, instead of 2118 PCE)

Also someone had asked about a previous post I made (indirectly. No computers in the Nexus, thanks to the temporal flux) how I knew some information: did I really go to Belgium and ask around until I found Ariana Grande on a farm with her husband?

No, of course not. I used our surveillance tech. One of the main things that's been done to watch for potential rivals in the DN tech arms race is build a lot of ways to spy on people in other universes. And specifically one major area of effort is doing cross-universe matching: you pick someone in one universe and find that identical person in other universes.

That way if there's some genius scientist in one world who has some neutrino-slingshot theories, we can quickly look them up in other universes to make sure they're not doing the same there. And it's very commonly misused by fools like me to see what a celebrity from this world is doing in others. It's always funny to look up the president or the best paid actor and find there's a universe where they instead are a kindergarten teacher.

It's a bit of a privacy invasion but the Dimensional Nexus is already the biggest privacy invasion in the multiverse (a term we still use despite it being wrong: there's only one universe!), and it's justified by those in charge that it's the only way to prevent an unwinnable DN war. We either invade everybody or we spy on everybody to make sure they don't invade everybody. Yeah. I'm just here for fieldwork, if you have a problem with it talk to the politicians who set up this thing.

Final fun fact: when the Dimension Nexus was set up, it was representatives of 5 earths: Prime, Bet, john1135, carshop, and blacksky. Because those are some of the first universes found, they're very similar... Right down to their leaders.

So there's 5 signatures on the declaration and THREE OF THEM are PM Thiers!

You should see the photo. It looks like a set of triplets setting up the worst boy band imaginable. (I can't sent the image with this post because of the no-computers thing)

* I do not have nearly enough time to explain what "cardinal" means in terms of multiversal geometry.

[ursacolossus]

Hi sorry I can’t stop thinking about how Charles grew up in -the AIDS crisis- and how that affected him and his view of sexuality. I initially thought ‘well he’s bisexual, obviously, he’s gotta know that’ but I really don’t think he does!!

My partner and I kept going ‘well what happened in the last 30 years?? Why didn’t they figure this out sooner?’ And I take that back. Those 30 years were the rest of the ‘80s, ‘90s and ‘00s, shit was -not- better for being queer. Like you might not have been burned at the stake, but people finding out could still ruin your life -very- easily. Discrimination laws were shit, they still kind of are in a good amount of states. I don’t know anything about discrimination laws in England at the time but they can’t have been better.

So I think Charles had clocked Edwin as queer very early on and was like ‘I’m not going to be like my father, or my ex-friends, I’m going to accept my friend’. And gave no thought to his own sexuality, most likely as an unconscious protection. (I’m fine with other people being gay, but -I- can’t be gay type of thing)

Also Punk subculture in England began in the ‘70s and obviously went into the ‘80s going very strong. Charles being from a lower-income family (still high enough income to send him to boarding school and having a basement, but we also have to consider that the ‘80s economy was -much- different and people could still afford a house and be poor at the same time) and dressing and speaking the way he does pinpoints him to a specific section of London that was seen as less desirable and punk culture and queer culture and poor culture -were and still are- a big-ass Venn diagram.

(Side note, Maurice by E.M. Forster was written in Edwin’s timeline. It’s about class disparity, being queer in an English boarding school and having a genuinely happy ending and it wasn’t published until -1971- because Forster did not want it published while he was still alive for obvious reasons)

(Other side note, Edwin was born just 5 years after the Oscar Wilde trials, so you -know- that scandal was burned into his brain from a young age)

But Charles knows that he loves Edwin in all other aspects, and I’d like to think that he’s recently come more to terms with his sexuality as a result of watching of the culture shift before his very eyes. Not thinking about it explicitly in the context of Edwin but like, understanding that queerness isn’t bad and -really- internalizing that.

We also don’t know if Charles has ever been in love before, and Edwin has had three -recent- experiences that have pushed him to this realization. Monty, the Cat King and Niko showing him her BL collection. Charles most recently was involved with a girl and he did -not- have several rendezvous with self-revelation. I think his response in Hell was extremely well-measured, all that considered. I just love this character and I have a lot of thoughts.