#you're doing the thing you're criticizing!!!

[your-average-teenage-mess]

... Okay so here's the thing. Calling Tumblr corrupt and broken and oppressive and deceitful ON TUMBLR isn't actually the same as, like, talking about capitalism this way while living under capitalism. You CAN ACTUALLY LEAVE. You shouldn't join Tumblr to do social critique, that's the only place where none of the people who actually need to hear it will. The only reasons you should be here is either professional promotion, or because being here gives you something. I'd argue joy is a pretty good thing to be given by Tumblr. So no, leave the fucking boop button alone. I do not, on principle, like boycotts very much, I think they tend to fall into the language of "here's the line in the sand for the morality of the average citizen" pretty fast, but if you actually wanted to achieve something with this post, this is what you SHOULD have been suggesting in terms of what the community should do, instead of bitterly reminding people that the things that make them feel joy are only there to distract them from how shitty the world is. That's THE WHOLE POINT of joy. So like. Either try to organize an actual collective response, or shut up. You do not need to remind us to be "critical" whenever we try and enjoy things. This is just the same as right wingers talking about how "safe spaces will make the kids forget the world is a harsh place". We KNOW, okay? But trying to not let it kill us from the inside, just for a moment, is in and of itself a worthy cause, and unless you have a better one you're trying to achieve here, leave the rest of us alone.

uh oh! owner's being sued for worker abuse! get out the boop meter so everybody forgets

[copperbadge]

Do you ever get stuck in a procrastination loop as part of your ADHD? Like if the thing isn't critically important with a rigid deadline you just keep thinking well it's too much effort or I don't have the time or I'm too busy etc. I haven't been diagnosed but I suspect and this is such an annoying loop

Thanks for your open discussion about your experience. It's been encouraging me to follow in your footsteps (whenever I quit procrastinating and do it that is)

I do sometimes -- more before I had medication -- but I've always treated it as....well, there's a process I call triage, there's probably a less brutal term for it. It's part of triage.

So, pretty much anything I need to do, from doing the dishes to making a doctor's appointment to, I don't know, repainting the bathroom, goes into my digital to-do list, which I keep in Google Tasks. I consult this list multiple times a day, anytime I've lost the thread of what I should be doing or find myself with free time. I generally arrange it each morning so that important/deadline stuff is near the top, but between those items I give myself breaks, so like I might be working on a deliverable for work, but once that's done the next task isn't the next document I need to do, it's something that I would find easier or more enjoyable (say, cooking lunch) . So naturally, stuff that isn't important AND I don't want to do gets bumped to the very bottom.

But that's okay, because the important stuff got done, and the unimportant but enjoyable stuff got done. That's triage -- prioritizing things in a way that makes life livable.

Now, at the end of the week I often just have a list of shit I don't want to or have to do, but that tells me I need to put more focus on those for next week. On Friday afternoon I often move at least one of those things to the weekend to-do list, or I mark it as a priority for the following week. It may not get done promptly, but it's now slightly more important in my mental filing cabinet.

We can't do everything all the time. If you're busy or tired or it's unpleasant that's not necessarily procrastination -- that's prioritizing things that your energy is better spent on. It's good to work on how to get out of that loop -- but also good to give yourself some grace and time to rest.

[missdollcouture]

KILLER CONFIDENCE

building confidence is something that we have to build and choose for ourselves. you need to understand you can literally wake up and decide you're confident.

the thing that helped me with confidence was knowing that everyone can tell if you're insecure. from the way you walk, to the way you carry yourself. so I just decided that I did not wanna give off insecure energy. who does?

now, if that doesn't work for you, don't worry, I have additional tips to help you become the most confident version of yourself.

fake it till it becomes real- if you're not confident, act like it. the more you pretend you are, the more natural and real it'll become.

step outside your comfort zone- try something new, talk to someone new. yeah sure, its nerve racking and uncomfortable but that's where growth happens. the more you do this, the more confidence you develop not only in yourself but in your ability to try new things.

take care of yourself- do your nails, find your style, have a nice workout. whatever helps you feel better and the most attractive version of yourself, do it. feel good physically=feeling good mentally.

your aura- the way you carry yourself is so so important. don't walk into a room with your head down, avoiding eye contact from everyone, its not the aura you want to give off.

accept validation from yourself- don't determine your self worth off of what other people think about you, it'll only make you a people pleaser. the only person's opinion on you that matters is yours.

be authentic- authenticity is attractive. don't try to be someone you're not, its a waste of time and energy. own your weirdness, your quirks, your everything.

who cares?- believe it or not, people aren't paying as much attention to you as you think. no one's making fun of you because of that pimple, or chipped tooth, or whatever else you're criticizing yourself over. and if they are, they're honestly losers cause why are they wasting their energy on making fun of someone else?

- confidence isn't about being perfect, it's about accepting that nothing is. it's about embracing your flaws, knowing you're doing your best. you're not everyone's cup of tea, and that's perfectly fine. It's about being yourself, unapologetically.

[myriad-rainbows]

From observation:

Collect a small group of ADHD and/or autistic and/or polyamorous people (other types of people may also work but I haven't tried that) (you also don't have to date them. but having SOME kind of mutual long term commitment probably helps.)

Spend ~5-10 years communicating with them in a daily or near-daily intentional way about things that matter (such as values, goals, feelings, needs, wants)

Everyone also goes to a regular therapy during this time and works on learning how to give and receive constructive criticism effectively (note: you do NOT have to get perfect at this at any point, but it is essential to commit to the intention and keep coming back to attempting it)

This helps you learn how to act like a person who it is safe to be mad at AND helps the other people learn to trust that you are safe to be mad at (& express it), provided they are doing their own work

Recognize & accept that sometimes people will still have Feelings about being asked if they're upset with you about something, and then you might even have Feelings about their Feelings, but nobody's feelings inherently dictate that anyone has to act in a specific way

Congratulations*, you've made an "are you mad at me" that (with these specific people, provided they haven't hit skills breakdown) is taken neutrally and informationally!

Sample script: "Hey, I'm wondering if you're upset with me, because [X]. If that's true even a little bit, would you tell me? Because I care about hearing your feelings, and I'd also like to know if there's something I can do that would help."

The "because [X]" is optional, but if your reason for wondering is something about how they're behaving, it gives them an opening to explain the reason for that behavior if it isn't that they're mad at you. X could be a mannerism, a way they're treating you, OR something like "I would be/understand being mad at someone who did [thing you're worried they're mad about]" or "other people have been mad at me about [action] before", or probably a secret nth thing I haven't thought of.

If you are talking with someone who you know or suspect has trouble believing that you actually want to know when they're mad at you, you could try (either in the moment or in some other metacommunication conversation) adding further reassurance/arguments for why they can and should tell you; for example:

"It helps me trust that when you tell me you're not mad at me, you're telling the truth, rather than trying to spare my feelings [optional: because even though I think you're trustworthy, my nervous system can't always get with the program]"

"It makes me feel honored that you feel like I'm a safe person to share difficult feedback with"

"Even if I feel hurt over you being upset with me, the fact that you shared that with me feels like a way you're showing that our relationship is important to you and that you know it's important to me too, which feels good"

Huge shoutout to my wife for helping me learn All That, practicing it very well themself, and being one of my small group of people.

*Results not guaranteed. Terms and conditions apply.

They should make a "are you mad at me" that is taken neutrally and informationally every time and doesn't make everything worse when you ask it

[bunabi]

You don't have to respond to this, I just don't have anyone irl who likes DA as much as me, but as a big fan of Origins I keep hoping for the next game to scratch an itch for me and with each game I get further and further from what I'm looking for. The in depth character backgrounds (that had real impact on the game!), the combat (it turns out I lothe RTS unless it's DAO but for some reason I love DAO's combat so much), and the impact of your choices are all things that seem to diminish with each game. I also agree with your frustration at not being able to be mean, I'm usually a goodie two shoes in games but my favorite Warden was one I made pragmatic and comfortable with authority to a dangerous degree because the brutal choices in Awakening result in the best outcomes for Ferelden. Plus even if you prefer the kind choices, you can't make choices unless you're given them. Luckily there's BG3 and Avowed coming out but it still feels like such a loss every time a new DA is released.

I wanna respond because you raise good points. 😔👍🏿

I feel the same way. I'm ride-or-die for Thedas as a world — the lore is easy to jump into and the amount of half-truths makes speculation really fun — but the games have strayed further and further from my personal tastes.

No DA entry is the same in its approach or execution, so I think having mixed opinions is completely natural.

Compared to Mass Effect which sticks to it's formula pretty closely from ME1 to Andromeda, DA is constantly changing. I think it could have benefited from more consistency. I understand why that wasn't always possible.

You're allowed to be disappointed or wistful or critical without it being construed as like...giving ammunition to bozos or tearing the developers down.

If we can't discuss those things what are we supposed to do? Sit in a circle pretending those features never mattered lol? That I never liked having more roleplay freedom, never liked companion relationships having more tension, never cared about tactics? No I don't think I will.

And I say this while fully accepting DAV for what it is. Even if I wasn't blessed with a code from EA I had every intention of playing it myself. I bought the art book. I've done two zines this year and contributed to two more. My career revolves around making art directly inspired by Inquisition's. Haven't read all the comics & books but I'm as 'hardcore' as it gets.

Me, of all people, being called a fake fan for wanting blood magic or not feeling the character model proportions shows how emotionally charged and unhinged things have gotten

All that to say: I think the best way to be a fan of anything is to acknowledge the good and the bad and let others do the same. So long as those conversations are in good faith there's nothing to lose and everything to gain fr.

[moiraimyths]

An Announcement on The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe)'s Route Order

Happy Saturday, fateful friends! We hope you're enjoying the update, if you've had a chance to play!

Some folks have asked us, both now and in the weeks leading up to Shae and Maeve's routes, what the overall route update order will be for the rest of NDM.

We're going to answer that question today, much too rigorously 👇

Initially, we'd planned to keep the route order a semi-secret in order to hype up the reveal for the next batch of characters, but after some thought/observation, the Moirai Myths team now thinks that revealing the order, and further explaining the order, would be more holistically useful to our players.

First things first: We are most likely always going to do route updates in two half-batches, instead of releasing the full route for one character at once. Two halves of two routes is roughly equivalent to one full route, so we could release each route one at a time, but this decreases the odds of us having an update that interests you if you're only presently interested in a few members of the cast. With this in mind, we've purposefully plotted out the routes so that the midway point for all routes will end on a cliffhanger or point of intrigue to encourage discussion/speculation regarding "what could come next," etc. If you've played Shae and Maeve's routes thus far, you'll know exactly what we mean by that. 😄

On that note: Why are Shae and Maeve's routes first? A small part of it is logistical. While they're not our most popular characters, most people like Shae and Maeve well enough coming out of the demo (Vol. 1), which gives them a decently broad appeal-potentiality. Preliminary data of ours also suggests that the average person's interest in these characters increases following the update. *wink* However, the second and larger reason is because of NDM's overarching story. While each route, as with other dating sims, explores the specific character arcs and personal struggles of their namesakes, these things are not the sole focus of the routes. NDM's story begins in a cold war scenario that could very well turn into a hot war scenario under the wrong set of circumstances. These plot points are persistent across the game, but certain elements are looked at more closely in some routes than in others.

Shae and Maeve basically serve as the introductory characters for our world beyond Vol. 1. Their routes explain essential concepts, such as the class dynamics of Tír na nÓg, the nature of the War of the Courts, etc., and they get some pretty big backstory questions answered and out of the way early on. This allows future routes to focus on other, similarly critical subjects, unimpeded by the need to go over previously-revealed information from the other routes in the same amount of detail. To that end, since major reveals in Shae and Maeve's routes may be comparatively understated in the next batch of routes, this begs the question...

✨ Is there an official recommended reading order? ✨

Yes. And some of our players have already guessed it:

Book of the Traveller (Vol. 1) is the "inciting incident" content for the game and must be read first. After that, you should play Shae's route (Book of the Soldier, Vol. 2), then Maeve's route (Book of the Warrior, Vol. 3). This means, according to the numbering: The next route batch will be Flannán and Aífe. Following them, Robin and Keagan.

We understand that in a lot of visual novels, routes can be read in any order without much impact to the story or experience. This is not so much the case with The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe), for the reasons we have previously explained. While we would not say the game would necessarily be ruined if players chose to, say, start with Keagan's route and work their way backwards, it would nevertheless be a less satisfying experience because you won't be getting the gradual build up of certain concepts and plot points in the prior volumes. In a sense, it would be somewhat similar to reading an actual book series out of order: You could probably read The Two Towers ahead of The Fellowship of the Ring and still have an enjoyable time, but you might find yourself asking, "Hm, why are they sending Hobbits on an important task like this? Sort of odd that an elf or human wasn't given this duty instead."

We hope this post is clarifying as to our artistic intent and general plans, and remember: Your favourite characters will appear in major ways across multiple routes, and we will be releasing side story DLCs featuring the other characters in between updates. 😊

Slán go foill! (Bye for now!)

-The Moirai Myths Team

[imsobadatnicknames2]

After reading a few of the notes I have a surprising amount of Thoughts here so I'm going to make my best attempt at organizing them here instead of arguing with people directly lol.

On the one hand, a lot of people going off about how "this is why we're in the middle of a media literacy crisis" etc. and idk it all sounds to me like "Society is doomed: This one guy said something stupid online". Like you should be extremely skeptical of any narrative that tells you that a handful of people online having extremely bad opinions is evidence (or even THE CAUSE) of any form of widespread societal decay, and it's a very easy trap to fall into if it happens to play into your confirmation bias unfortunately. Also I don't really think we're in a "media literacy crisis". There have always been A LOT of people who engage with media like this, you are just more aware of them now because of social media. There is no media literacy golden age we're falling from grace from.

On the Other hand. A lot of people talking about how there's actually no problem here because you can read however you want and it's okay to skip paragraphs and skim and skip ahead and read out of order, and that thinking otherwise is ableist because a lot of ND people have trouble with big walls of text etc.

And this one comes off to me like something that's like. Technically true on principle but being brought up extremely disingenuously. Like yeah it's your right as a reader to read however you want, but. There's a pretty big difference between "I had to skip this paragraph because the prose wasn't grabbing me/playing nice with my ADHD but I didn't want to stop the book there" and "I skip long/slow paragraphs on principle"

For me it's the same thing as the people who keep bringing up D&D "rule zero". Like yeah it's your right as a player to ignore the rules when you think doing so would benefit the experience, you're not harming anybody, no one has the right to tell you to stop doing it. But if you find yourself constantly doing it, at some point it kinda just exposes a fundamental disconnect between the experience you want from a game and the game you're actually playing, and you should consider if you wouldn't be better served playing a different game or just doing a different activity entirely.

Similarly, as a reader you have the right to read your books however you want. Skip ahead, read out of order, do whatever. It's your time, you decide how to spend it. But if you find yourself constantly skipping paragraphs, or reading just the dialogue, or feeling bored out of your mind when a chapter is more than 30 minutes of reading, that is a pretty clear sign that what you're reading just isn't clicking with you, and you should just drop that book and consider if you wouldn't be better served by reading a different book, or a different author, or a different genre. Or, if it's like that with EVERY book, you should just consider if you wouldn't be better served by reading something different like poetry or screenplays or graphic novels or just doing an entirely different hobby.

Also another thing I find disingenuous about the people saying there's nothing wrong with this and OP is based as hell actually is that like. She calls herself a book critic and her whole shtick is doing book recommendations and shit. Idk if I saw a self-professed music critic who talks about how they've made a habit out of always skipping songs that are over 3 minutes long, or how when it's a slow song they just skip to the chorus I'd say they're probably not doing very good music criticism and they have no business recommending music to anyone.

Do they know that reading is not mandatory? Nobody is forcing them to read?

[throwing-in-the-towel]

let's play a game called: be normal!!!!

a reddit thread has been making its rounds today (thank u to the anon who directed my attention to it) sparked from the whole drunk dm thing that happened this weekend. there are a few other yucky stories in the thread regarding situations that have played out at stage door. im gonna link the thread for this interested at the bottom of this post!!

PSA: it's not hard to be respectful and kind at stage doors! the actors do not owe you anything, you do not know them, you are not their friends, this is their place of work. i cannot emphasize enough that stage door is a PRIVILEGE and one that im surprised has yet to be taken away. the lack of common sense and respect to the actors in this show is honestly just gross and heartbreaking. this cast is probably the nicest group of people i've encountered and it makes me feel so yucky that people treat them the way they do..and yet they still make time for fans!!! behavior like this is what ruins it for everyone else. i know this is not as big a part of the fanbase as people on the outside think it is, but the weirdos and the weird stories is what makes the rounds, giving that reputation to the fanbase. you're giving the respectful, kind, quiet fans a bad rap!!

get ur playbill signed, take a selfie, have a nice little conversation, move on and thats it!!! you are not entitled to hog actors, criticize them, give them food (which is insane, literally never EVER do this???) at stage door. it's that simple. stop being weird. it's so incredibly frustrating. ever since i've started this blog i've been huge on encouraging people to maintain respect and privacy towards the actors and seeing others in the fan base just think they can do whatever they want is seriously disappointing.

heres the link! (also whoever said the tumblr fanbase for the show is respectful and positive, you are very lovely)

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm writing a novel that criticizes the unethical way AI has been used and how newer technology is replacing older methods when they should still be available.

What I'm struggling with is to plan the story while having the tone in mind, because my main characters are goofballs, they're all supposed to bring funny moments and comic relief, but even with the comedic parts I don't want to make the social critic a satire. How do I plan a story with humorous characters doing serious stuff and keep a balance of humurous moments and serious subjects?

Balancing Humor with Serious Themes

Here are some things to keep in mind...

1 - Let the majority of the humor derive from the characters themselves. Since you say the characters are goofballs and bring comic relief, it sounds like you're already doing that. Keeping the characters as the primary source of humor helps to create a buffer between them and the actual (serious) situation.

2 - Time the comedic moments appropriately. When it comes to balancing humor with serious themes, timing is everything. The best time to use comedy in a serious story is when the tension needs to be momentarily relieved. This creates a nice contrast which makes the seriousness of the moment feel that much more serious and deepens the emotional resonance.

3 - When possible, keep the comedy relevant. Let's say you have a dramatic moment where the characters are hunkered down, waiting for something bad to happen (that they know is going to happen), and it's super tense, so one of the characters says something funny. It isn't going to make a lot of sense if they just randomly say, "Have you ever noticed you can never remember the three items you went into the grocery store to buy, but you can recite lines from a movie you saw once nine years ago?" That is a funny observation, but what does it have to do with that particular moment? How is it relevant to what's going on?

A more relevant funny observation would be, "Why is it when I'm waiting my turn to present a book report, the seconds fly by, but when you're waiting for the arrival of a blood-thirsty shapeshifter, suddenly every second takes five minutes?"

Alternatively, if the group happens to be waiting for said blood-thirsty shapeshifter while hunkered down inside a grocery store, that gives the shopping observation relevance.

4 - Work in character development by letting comedic quips reveal quirks, flaws, vulnerabilities, strengths, relationships, personal stakes, and personal journey.

5 - Avoid jarring transitions by using environmental or narrative cues to signal shifts in mood. For example, after the comedic quip is made, maybe the lights flicker and go out, or a huge shadow falls across the floor, signaling the arrival of the bad thing they're waiting for. This helps to transition between the comedic moment (and any comedic reaction) back to the seriousness of the moment at hand.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 5: Friends to Lovers

Previous Chapter: Reader Suggestions

Summary: A bit of chaotic Deja Vu ensues as the Writer finally gets a handle on this story.

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Chaos, Smut, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Various References to Movies and Television, Lore, Criticism of Fanfiction, Analysis of Fanfiction/Fandom, Meta Fiction, Self-Aware Fic

Note: I KNOW THIS IS REALLY LATE (the dedication post not the chapter, I write on my own time and I'm not gonna apologize for that) so please consider this a chapter dedicated to @undead-supernova for her birthday. Love you August. Thanks for being a little gremlin with me sometimes. Hope you enjoy it.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

You really didn't know how you fit into this story.

You were utterly and sincerely baffled.

But you could say that about a lot of the stories you found yourself in; this one felt like it was just to make you suffer, more than anything else.

"What's on your mind Wanderlust?" Sawyer groaned as he collapsed beside you on the sand. He held out a water bottle--still a bit cold, meaning he'd just come back from refilling them at the caves--which you took with a grateful nod. "You're staring into that fire as if it's about to tell you the meaning of life."

"I think that's exactly what I'm hoping it does," you told him honestly before taking a swig.

"Well if you find out," he laid back with his arms folded behind his head. "Be sure to share with the class."

You rolled your eyes at him and then kept up with your pity party.

To add to the list of things you didn't know: Sawyer was also one of them.

He was a shithead of the first degree, dangerous, shifty, rude, selfish, suspicious...and somehow the only person you consistently talked to here on the island.

You'd actually been sitting next to him on Flight 815; he'd been a little salty but nice enough to let you have the arm rests, even asked if you were alright when the turbulence began and you began panicking.

For all the years that you'd been driving around the states, you'd never been on a plane before; you thought it was karma that some Writer would not only put you on the longest flight in existence for your first go, and then a plane crash for your second.

But you appreciated Sawyer's compassion, and the subsequent companionship that he shared with you. The care. The protection. The no-strings-attached, no-questions-asked nature of your relationship.

"You have a boyfriend back home kid?" he asked abruptly.

Spoke too soon.

"Loaded question," you snorted, thinking back to the many loves you'd had throughout this strange life you lived.

"Always the bridesmaid?"

"Something like that." You kicked his leg. "What about you?"

"Married to my work, sweet pea," he grinned, eyes still closed. He must've heard you roll your eyes at him. "I'm sure you're curious about why I'm asking."

"The question crossed my mind, if you'd like to share with the class," you parroted his words.

"Might've heard through the grapevine that someone has a little crush on you."

"Hmmm." You hoped the judgment and distaste was clear.

"Figure it was my duty as your unofficial big brother to scare them away before they started sniffing too close. 'specially if you had someone back home waiting for you."

"Well, no one's waiting," you huffed a breath. "But that doesn't mean I'm interested in a weird beach hookup either."

"I figured. I'll tell 'em to scram."

"Please don't be rude about it."

His eyes popped open and he pressed a hand to his chest.

"Now when have I ever been rude?" You kicked him again. "Alright, I'll be nice."

"Thank you."

There were a few beats of silence, filled with the crackle of the fire and the roar of waves just a few yards away.

"What are you looking for then?" Sawyer's voice broke through. "If it's not sex or love or whatever. What's got you looking so deep into that fire for?"

"I think..." You took a second, because all of those things were nice. But what did you want? What did you really want?

You inhaled deeply and then turned your gaze back to him with the hint of a smile.

"I think I just need a friend."

October 1985

You know what really sucked for Eddie about this whole fanfiction predicament?

The absolute unpredictability of it.

Just as you'd explained to him, he actually felt like he was playing a constant game of DnD. The only problem--well, one of many problems, actually--was that the Dungeon Master had no plans, didn't know what they were doing, and was making it all up as they went.

Which is why he suddenly found himself back in time once again, practically at the beginning of the school year, after a shitty, hot October day where everything that could've gone wrong did.

"It's almost like this Writer hates my guts or something," he grumbled as he sifted through the disarray in his locker. "Making me repeat my repeat-repeat-senior year over and over again."

He let the irritation fester within him all day until the end of the day so he could complain to you--and you'd hopefully agree to some under-the-shirt-over-the-bra action on his couch as consolation--only to find your trailer dark and your car missing by the time he got home.

"Great, just great," he grumbled and trudged inside.

For the rest of the night, he did what he always did when he was looking for comfort.

Pizza, Television, Recorded Reruns of Port Geneva.

He sat on the floor, worked on his homework, and munched on his large extra-pepperoni for hours, as you and Sam and Bonnie had your misadventures. A little voice in the back of his head urged him to just get up and try calling you whenever he hit the pause button to complain, but he ignored it and instead kept on complaining.

About school, about life, about himself. About never amounting to anything. It was very reminiscent of all the other "talks" he had with you...both the you on the screen and eventually the you in real life.

What he wouldn't give to just have you here right now to talk to, instead of this old habit that he thought he'd outgrown upon your appearance in Hawkins and the beginning of this unending hellscape.

He looked down at himself, at the homework and the pizza, and stopped to ask, "what the fuck am I doing?"

Was he really so pathetic that he couldn't control himself until you could be there? Or Wayne? Or any of his other friends? Had the turning back of the calendar just regressed him into the pathetic person he was before all of this started? Before you set foot into Hawkins?

Eddie got to his feet and hit the eject button on the VCR, fully intending to call it a night, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd just gotten used to.

This crash, however, started a ruckus. Again.

"Weird," he scoffed at the yelling and the dog across the way barking.

But who was he to pass up some good old Midwestern entertainment? Especially after the most lackluster night?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl of junk on the coffee table, slid the box of leftover pizza into the fridge, and stepped outside to get a prime spot on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

He'd just gotten that first drag of his cigarette and really took in the sights when it all made sense.

Or rather, it actually didn't make any sense.

Because he remembered the Mayfields on their porch yelling at the driver and Mrs. Mayfield threatening to call the police. He recognized that powder blue Volkswagen Beetle and the accompanying license plate. He knew, on instinct, exactly when the driver's door opened and the sneakered foot stepped out.

And then there you were. Looking around and begging the Mayfields not to call the cops, making a deal to pay for the damages.

The weirdest thing was that, even though his mind raced to put the pieces together, his heart ached with all of the emotions that he'd been through the first time he'd lived this night when you'd crashed into Hawkins from your adventures across the fictional universe.

But instead of muttering that it was all a dream like he remembered himself saying, he repeated "what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck" over again until you glanced over at him with an apologetic gaze that he recognized even from that distance.

All at once, he felt the calm wash over him. That's all he needed from you, one look, and everything began to feel worlds better.

"Jesus H. Christ," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair in relief.

Eddie watched for a few moments longer as you wrapped up your conversation with the Mayfields, and he would've made the attempt to approach you once you wandered back to your car, if he didn't feel the puppet strings of the Writer and their words rest on the tip of his tongue, waiting for him to speak them.

So he played the part, as he had gotten used to doing, and jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" He called out to you. "Uh...I...know my way around cars, I can take a look at it in the morning. I-if you want. Bang out any dents."

"Seriously? Can you?" you scrunched your nose in the way that made his knees shake. The Writer didn't need to make him do that; even after a few months, he was still pathetic for you. "That'd be nice, thanks."

"Yeah no problem," he smiled the friendliest and most welcoming smile he could muster, and then went back inside as your car trudged across the trailer park.

Your door was unlocked when he ventured to your place in the middle of the night.

The Writer, unfortunately--or maybe thankfully--still gave him as many nerves and as much restlessness as he had the first night you were in Hawkins. Or maybe he was just nervous and restless wondering just what new hell there was in store for the two of you? Still he couldn't sleep, so instead of wait for the morning, he just made his way over to discuss it with you now.

He found you sitting atop your bedroll on the blue plaid sofa in your living room.

"Hey Cigarette Porch guy," you greeted him tiredly, reciting the words you originally greeted him with.

"Cigarette porch guy is my father," he didn't hesitate to recall, the moment the two of you officially met fondly etched into his memory forever. "You can just call me Eddie."

You share a smile and then pat the spot beside you on the couch.

"I'd offer you a drink, but uh...seems like I'm starting over again," you sighed. "Unless I can interest you in some good old Indiana tap water."

He shook his head, then closed the distance and dropped beside you.

"So what are we in for this time?" he asked. "I thought I was just in for another shitty day."

"Well," you paused and held your breath, then you grabbed his hand and squeezed. "I woke up in a motel room I didn't recognize and then felt the urge to get in my car and just drive. I felt...excited to go to a new place; I think I even said it out loud. 'I'm so excited.' But inside I was worried that I'd moved onto another world and left you behind."

It was like a pit opened in his stomach; he'd considered it before, your eventual departure. He'd come to believe that you would move onto your next life after some event--a death, a breakup, maybe some happily ever after after 50 years together, if he was lucky. But to lose you without any kind of warning?

"Shit," he pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. For your comfort and his own. "I'm sorry sweetheart."

"It's ok," came the weak chuckle as you leaned into his embrace and nuzzled your nose into his t-shirt. "It's ok, we're just...starting over. The Writer is starting the story over; starting over is good sometimes. Maybe they figured out what they were going to do with us, instead of just play with us like little dolls in a dollhouse."

"Well, I'm an expert in starting over so..." he cracked a joke. "I was just thinking that earlier today, actually."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well, if it's October again, it means I'm doing senior year for the...what is it...third-and-a-half time?"

You snorted and weakly slapped a hand to his chest, "well how dare they make you experience that fresh hell one more time."

"I guess if we're starting over, that means you can help me figure out how to pass my Civics quiz again," he recalled your first date. Study date.

You shot out of his embrace and grabbed his face in your hands, smushing his cheeks as you grinned, the somber tone in the living room finally dissipating.

"But that's the best part of rewrites," you explained. "You get to live all the best memories with people over again."

You told him about rewrites that you'd been through; stories that generally didn't change and some that changed drastically. He liked hearing the fondness of your voice when you talked about getting to meet so-and-so for the first time again, holding someone's hand, first dates.

"First kisses?" he asked through his still-smooshed lips.

"That's one of the best parts of rewrites," you winked and pecked a kiss against his mouth. Then again and again, until the two of you were smooching all over each other comically like Gomez and Morticia, giggling all the while.

And when it was time to say goodbye, both of you ready to say "hello" for the second first time.

"Hey," you greeted, somewhat out of breath when Eddie opened the door. It was a familiar sight: backpack slung over your shoulder, 6-pack of sodas dangling from your fingers, looking as gorgeous as you always did or at least he thought so. "Sorry if I'm late."

"No," he shook his head quickly and shifted to the side to let you pass into the trailer. "Right on time sweetheart. Hope you like pepperoni."

Of course you did. It was your favorite.

"It's my favorite."

He still felt the strong sense of triumph from knowing what your favorites were, even though the nerves of being around you for the first time had dissipated.

There was another kind of excitement now as you bit your lip and winked at him stealthily and made your way inside to get settled in the living room. Of course you knew he knew that pepperoni was your favorite. What the Writer didn't know was that pepperoni wasn't your only favorite, and they didn't know that he'd gotten half-pep, half-mushroom to surprise you.

How would they? He hadn't felt them as he'd called Pizzeria Uno, just those lurking strings leading him to the door once the pizza arrived.

The past few days had gone like this, where the Writer would control some aspect of your lives, and the two of you would test what the boundaries of this fanfiction were. It was a trick of yours, to feel some semblance of control in an uncontrollable situation, especially as things became out of character or too drawn out.

When the Writer seemed to be writing too much exposition about one thing or another, the two of you sat frozen in time. No talking, no movement as the world around you seemed to shift and morph at the will of your would-be-deity.

You'd silently challenged him to a staring contest over breakfast at Benny's as a water stain in the corner of the ceiling got bigger and dingier and became more of an eyesore.

Had Eddie really never noticed it or was the Writer just obsessed with it?

It was happening right now as his attention was drawn to the enticing softness of the sweater you had on...each piece of yarn knitted and woven together with such care, his hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out and...

"So..." you cleared your throat. "Homework?"

"Yeah," he agreed, shaking himself out of his story-induced stupor. "Lemme put those pops in the fridge so they get cold first. Dr. Pep--Mr. Pibb?" He scoffed at the unexpected label, a laugh dead in his throat.

"Wh...do you...I thought you liked Dr. Pepper," he questioned.

"Why would you think that?"

"Be...because you got Dr. Pepper at Benny's!"

"If I don't have a choice, yeah Dr. Pepper is fine. But Mr. Pibb is my favorite," you laughed and shook your head in amused disbelief. "There's nothing like a slice of pepperoni and an ice cold Mr. Pibb."

Eddie was sure that there were no strings pulling him this way or that, and based on your body language, it didn't seem like the Writer was doing anything to you either. He racked his brain for a moment, trying to come up with any little tidbit that could prove some outside interference.

But then he realized...had The Writer noticed something about you that he hadn't?

Had he, Eddie Munson, number one fan of Port Geneva's--and you--not noticed that your favorite soda was Mr. Pibb?

Then a thought that didn’t really seem to be his echoed in his head.

What if he actually didn’t know anything about you?

No.

That was impossible.

He refused to believe it. It had to be the Writer who was manipulating things. Right?

He looked at the Mr. Pibb for a moment, then back up at you.

"So, uh," he hesitantly backed out of the living room to head to the kitchen. "Anything else shocking and unbelievable that I need to know about you? If we're gonna be neighbors...or friends...or whatever."

"Or whatever," you giggled, scrunching your nose, then pulled his notebook off the coffee table to distract yourself as you continued nervously. "Uh, ok let's see...I don't think there's anything too shocking and unbelievable that I hadn't told you at breakfast the other day. I'm from Port Geneva, I've been driving around for a while, I like to draw."

You flipped through a few pages in his notebook and then paused and pointed to the doodles in the margins of the page.

"And by the looks of this, so do you," you grinned. "These are cool."

"Cool?" he scoffed. "That...I was supposed to take notes for class and I ended up doodling for Hellfire Club the whole time. Ahem...Hellfire Club...my Dungeons and Dragons club at school."

"Oh yeah?"

"Planning a one-shot for my buddy Jeff's birthday in a world where Theodred doesn't die and goes on to become...well...it's just nerd stuff. You're not interested in any of that. Besides, we're supposed to be talking about you."

"Actually," you looked at him expectantly, "we're supposed to talk about your history quiz. But while we're on the topic of me, and history, and these nerd things in your notebook, I guess one shocking and unbelievable thing about me is that I'm actually a nerd too. I happen to like Tolkien."

It was his turn to shoot you a mocking "oh yeah?"

You rolled your eyes at him and then put his notebook down on the table, then held out your hand as though you desired a handshake. As soon as his palm touched yours, you introduced yourself.

"I actually like Tolkien. My mom got me a copy of the Silmarillion for my sixteenth birthday and if I could go anywhere in any universe, I'd like to see Middle Earth from the tippy top of Erebor. And I used to say that I'd settle for the grand canyon, but I've already been there. So I will accept nothing less than Erebor itself. Now you."

You continued to shake his hand as he spoke.

"I'm Eddie Munson. The first time I read the Hobbit, my dad had dropped me off at the library and someone had misplaced it in the Kids section. And I've tried to get my band to play a rendition of Misty Mountains before, but we can't agree on whether or not there should be a harp in it. If we could even find a harp in Indiana like Thorin's."

There was a sparkle in your eye as you began to say "actually I have a funny story about Thorin and his harp," when you froze.

Eddie watched you and got increasingly worried as you fought some kind of internal battle just behind your eyes. He could see the little changes in your expression, from joyful to nervous to angry, and he reached out to rest his hand on yours and let you know that he was right there.

That it would be alright.

"Why don't," you finally spat out forcefully, slightly out of breath, "why don't we try this? We study a little bit at a time, and as we go, we share a new fact about each other? That way by the end of the night, you'll be ready for the quiz, and we'll be good...friends?"

There was something biting about the word friends, almost like you didn't want to say it.

Honestly, it stung him a little to hear it.

Friends.

Weren't you two supposed to fall in love? Hadn't that been what this fanfiction was in the first place? That this Writer shipped you two together? And shit, even though he knew that he could kiss you once the Writer relinquished control, he was kind of looking forward to having this first date all over again, just like you'd discussed.

But now everything was turning out differently.

Not bad, just different.

It was your turn to turn your hand in his and squeeze, then you asked "how does that sound Eddie? Friends?"

His eyes darted between yours, and he felt the pressure build, the pressure to agree and say yes, as thoughts that the Writer put into his head flew through him at light speed.

"Yeah," he finally spoke. "Friends sounds good."

And friends it was...until it wasn't anymore.

You and Eddie seemed to do all of the things that you did before. Study sessions and Saturdays spent together watching movies and putzing around town until it was time for you to go to work.

Only instead of holding hands and smooching and all of the things that really punctuated the romance in a relationship...there were just awkward, forlorn glances and tingles along your skin when your fingers happened to touch.

God damn, he hadn't had this kind of crush since he was in middle school. The last serious crush he had besides that...was on you.

And it was weird to physically feel all of the effects of a crush on you, thanks to the Writer, while mentally being frustrated knowing that dates and kisses and everything were just around the corner. If only the two of you would be allowed to get over that hurdle.

"It's called a slow burn," you laughed one night when he complained to you on the phone, away from the watchful eye of the Writer. You seemed to be taking the glass-half-full approach, where Eddie just missed you so goddamn much. "And I guess the Writer is really letting us simmer."

"I'm gonna melt if they don't let us be together soon." Eddie complained, semi-seriously, basking in your laughter. "Call me Eddie Mun-stew."

"They've got us in a crock pot," you entertained his joke.

"8 chapters on low," he grinned. "Like Uncle Wayne's famous chili. I just want to kiss you, is that such a crime?"

"Apparently it is."

"What if I've forgotten how to kiss?"

"I sincerely doubt that you have. I'm more worried that the Writer will make it a bad first kiss."

"Like if we bonk heads and I break your nose or something?"

"Oh god, let's not give them any ideas," you groaned. "Look, whenever they decide it'll happen, it will. And it's gonna be great."

"Maybe they won't let me make you think I'm a virgin this time."

"You have to admit, that was hilarious."

"It was not!"

Your only response, which caused him to hang up on you, was to cackle loudly into the receiver.

But the Writer must've sensed the antsy energy between the two of you because it happened.

A first kiss. A second first kiss.

You were actually at the movies this time, instead of on Eddie's couch.

The Writer had given Eddie an incredibly long sequence where he and his pals from Hellfire practiced all of the moves he could have finally made on you now to let you know he might be interested.

First, there was the raising of the armrest between the two of you--exaggeratedly performed by Jeff, who played Eddie, and Eddie, who played you.

Next, there was the meeting of the fingers in the popcorn bucket. Gareth was able to do an uncanny impression of Eddie's "don't take all the milk duds" and the awkward laugh he made as the blush dusted his cheeks.

Then there was the old yawn and stretch, which wasn't awkward at all to have Dave do to him.

"Have you ever done this to someone before?" Eddie snarked, as Dave practically squeezed him against his side. It had been more of a grab than a casual drape of his arm around Eddie's back.

Needless to say, his own execution of the move was a lot smoother.

"And then you just kiss her," his friends said in tandem.

"Gee thanks," Eddie scoffed at them, "I know how to kiss a girl, you shitheads."

Except when it came down to it, he was nervous. Hadn't you told him that the best part of rewrites was having those firsts again? What if it was terrible? What if he actually did break your nose?

"Eddie, are you shaking?" you leaned away from him and looked at him worriedly. "What's wrong?"

Shit, had he been shaking?

"This movie is just," he cleared his throat and glanced up at the screen; thank god he chose something spooky for Halloween. "Really scary."

"Oh...kay," you narrowed your eyes in suspicion, but sat back in your seat.

Then you leaned into him a little more.

And glanced up at him from beneath your lashes.

And he couldn't help but lean a little closer, and duck his head, until his breath was fanning against your cheeks.

Until you inched closer and closer.

And your lips brushed.

Damn, this Writer must've been a hopeless romantic because the kiss was everything they said a first kiss should be. Sunshine and rainbows and birds singing and rockets red glare fireworks at the soft press of your lips on his.

It was here that Eddie realized how much he'd missed kissing you, like...really missed kissing you. You'd taken the task of this rewrite a little too seriously, worried that in some way it might inspire the Writer...or possibly even mess with their inspiration.

The two of you were here now, though, and finally all of that waiting had paid off.

So of course you took advantage of it.

Actually, you were a little more eager than Eddie even was, because your hands were on him immediately. One hand found his waist and the other on his jaw, thumb softly caressing his stubbly skin as your lips pressed together. He liked the firmness of your lips, he liked the way you'd waited for him to make the move before taking what you both eagerly wanted.

Writer be damned.

Eddie pulled you closer, using the arm hooked around your shoulders as leverage, and then tried to use the other hand to hike one of your legs over his--you couldn't be close enough--but the damned popcorn bucket got in the way.

He pulled his lips away from yours for a moment to glance down at the obstacle, basking in the little whine you made at the loss of contact.

In fact, you both looked down at the popcorn, and then at the screen, then at each other.

And you both must've decided that "fuck it" was the correct response, because soon the popcorn bucket was on the floor and you were giggling into each other's mouths as you melded back into one writing mass of limbs and kisses and caresses.

It was a joy to be reunited like this; there were some moments that Eddie was eager to move his hand this way or that way, but he felt the strings of the Writer pull him some other way. His own signature moves foregone in favor of something that they thought would be better. Fingers inched under clothing and into hair, lips chased down the column of a neck, and a leg was hitched over a hip until you were practically grinding on each other for all the world to see.

Suddenly a light was shined on you and you both froze, then jumped apart in shock. Your shoulders heaved and you turned towards the source of the light.

"Hey!" An usher shouted from the end of the row, getting the attention of the whole theater as they turned in their seats to stare at the two of you with your kiss-bruised lips and disheveled clothes. "Knock it off."

"Sorry," you apologized in tandem and shrunk back into your seats.

In fact, the usher waited until the armrest was securely back in place between the two of you before he left.

Once he was gone, though, you snickered and slyly lifted the armrest so you could cuddle back together.

"It's good to be back," Eddie whispered and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"Ok," you took a breath in and stared at the bed. "So...how do we start?"

Eddie looked at you incredulously and then scoffed.

"You're asking me?" He chuckled and ran a hand into his hair.

"Yeah, I'm asking you," you nodded sincerely and then you gestured up towards the ceiling. "Because clearly they don't know."

You'd been making out on the couch when you'd both decided to take it to the bedroom. But when you got there, things seemed to fizzle out, and now you were just waiting for the Writer's next move.

Actually, the two of you had been waiting for that to happen for a little while. Not that either of you could complain. All of the little scenes that had been written developed your relationship into something worth a story being told about it--dates and cuddling and kissing.

Better than some of the bullshit that the Writer had previously pulled. No bouts of interference or jealousy from Steve Harrington or Chrissy Cunningham. It seemed like a normal relationship, and everything the two of you wanted.

There was still the underlying disbelief and mystery that surrounded you, Eddie's favorite character from Port Geneva, actually being in Hawkins, but in reality the two of you knew that whatever the Writer had planned would truly be a drop in the water when it came to what was actually happening to you.

You'd take this love story while you could get it.

However, the one hurdle that you couldn't seem to get over...was sex.

Well, the two of you could certainly get over it.

It was the Writer that couldn't.

And the cockblocking was getting old.

Making out on the couch, Wayne walked in unexpectedly and ruined the mood. Someone knocked on the back of the van when the two of you were getting hot and heavy parked up at the quarry.

Shit, even phone sex was ruined.

The Writer seemed to be attuned to the two of you now and anytime there was any hint of an arousal to be had, they would be there to effectively crush it.

"Maybe they're just a bad writer?" Eddie shouted upwards, throwing two middle fingers into the air, as though The Writer would know.

"Alright, let's not get too heated," you chuckled and grabbed his arms to pull them back down. "It's probably not as easy as we think it is."

"The dick goes in," Eddie pouted. You stared at him with some sense of disbelief. He was quick to recover it with "and other things happen. I know how to warm a girl up. They should just let us get to it, then it would be easy to put it on paper."

There was a spark of inspiration in your eye at that.

"Alright then, Mister know-it-all," you challenged him, "maybe we should put that logic to the test."

"W-what do you mean?" he questioned. "How?"

"Well, what would you do? How would we start?" you asked in return. "Actually...you admitted to writing a few little stories; have you ever written a sex scene about me?"

Eddie felt the heat build up in his cheeks and you grinned wickedly.

"Oh my god, you have."

"Shut up, ok?" He inhaled deeply, held, and then exhaled his response. "Ok yes but it was once and can you blame me?"

You cackled and did a little shimmy.

"You're smart and funny and gorgeous and I'm in love with you," he explained and then caught himself in shock. "Er, I mean, I..."

He fumbled over his words but your gaze got soft, and you leaned in to press your mouth to his.

It was all the reassurance he needed.

Then he got lost in you. Your lips, your taste, the feel of your hands on him, the feel of you beneath his hands. It was a sensory overload but it was a welcome one. To be surrounded by all of you? He couldn't have written it as well as it was to simply experience it.

That's how he felt about everything he'd experienced with you so far, though. Why should this be any different?

You tugged on his clothes and he tugged on yours. You fumbled to get onto the bed, chasing each other as you scrambled up towards the pillows; you refused to let each other's mouths stray too far though.

"You know," Eddie panted as he pulled away from you to pull his t-shirt over his head. "Maybe the Writer was onto something, though; I really like kissing you."

"Uh huh," you scoffed, your own shirt gone, and you fumbled with the buttons of your jeans. "Do you wanna stop then?"

"Fuck no," he responded and ducked his head to your bare stomach.

His fingers fought with yours on your waistband as he kissed up the softness of your belly, then the dip between your breasts, then up to your neck.

"You know I'm really good at giving hickeys," he muttered into the corner of your jaw. The words tumbled out of his mouth, almost like they weren't his. It took him to realize that they weren't actually his. They were The Writer's. Maybe this was working after all. "Like, really good."

"Put your money where your mouth is Munson," came your reply as your hand slipped into his waistband.

And it was such a strange sensation, maybe just for Eddie, maybe the both of you, when your hand wrapped around his cock and squeezed and he sucked on your pulse like his life depended on it.

Pleasure definitely, and maybe pain; a little mortification and a lot of confusion.

The crescendo of moans from the two of you that your brains said sounded like music but all your ears heard was utter filth. The difference between what the Writer demanded--what they wrote--and what the two of you experience.

And then you released each other, and looked into one another's eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"What is this?" Eddie chuckled into your neck. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," you mirrored him. Your free hand reached up and caressed his face, fingers brushing into his bangs. "But I wouldn't do this with anyone but you."

The rest of your clothes were shed, then, and more kisses were shared. You explored each other's bodies with hands and eyes and tongues. He liked the sounds you made when he licked his way down your body and finally got to taste you when he reached your core.

He vaguely wondered what it was the Writer was describing as he found the spots that made you moan and scream and shatter. Was it the heady taste of you? Or the weight of your thigh hiked over his shoulder? The feeling of your fingers in his hair? And then when things were reversed, when he sunk into you? What did you feel? Did you feel the weight of him on your body, the sweet affirmations he whispered into you, or the way your thighs pulled him closer? The need to have him in you and around you?

Did they write about the slow build of pleasure between you? The chase of it as he bucked into you and you pulled him deeper? Did they know the exact moment that your hands reached down to press into the spot where you connected?

What was it that a Writer experienced when the characters they wrote about shared those intimate moments together? Did they feel their own sense of lust at the thought of bodies melding into one another? Did they feel a sense of shame or intrusion?

Or maybe they felt left out? That this love, this experience, would never really happen to them? Maybe it was just some facsimile with their own partner? Or could this only ever experienced secondhand through words written on a page, never to truly be had on their own?

Eddie paused and looked down at you--at the scrunch of your eyes as you touched yourself, as you touched him, and moaned his name--and he did his best to banish the Writer from his mind.

From this room.

Because this truly was something that should only belong to you and Eddie.

Before everything faded to darkness, before whatever "scene" came to a close, you reached your peaks together.

Because strings or no strings, whether the writer existed or not, whether this was real or fanfiction, it was just the two of you.

You and Eddie.

Together.

"I love you."

Next Chapter: Lemon Coming Soon

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

[artemisdesari-blog]

Ok, so I don't have an update about the child most hurt by all of this. Mostly because investigations into stuff like this is slow at the best of times, and international investigations are even bloody slower, but also because it's none of anyone's business at this point and I'm not going to spread anymore of this kid's business over the internet. The awareness of the harm done to them is enough. I do, however, have something I need to add because some people lack the critical thinking ability to do the really fucking bloody obvious:

Do not come onto this post with your comments or your reblogs that contain the phrase "I don't agree with proshipping but...". Alright? Just don't.

"Pro" a prefix meaning "for". "Anti" a prefix meaning "against". Alright. End of. Proshipping is simply ship and let ship. Shut up and mind your own business about whatever that person is shipping. Because this post isn't a discourse about whether there are things people should be allowed to ship and write about or not. This post is about the very real harm the so called anti community is doing to very real people in order to protect fucking pixels.

You think proshipping is the thing causing the harm? The people who make their work and tag it to shit before posting so that the people who want to see it can, and the people who want to avoid it are able to avoid engaging? The person who wrote an E (for explicit, this was ao3 remember) story, posted it on the website created so that people could ship their ship and write their dark and nasty fic without having it deleted or being persecuted for it, and tagged it so clearly that I didn't even need to open it to know it contained specific themes. That person? You think that person did the harm when it was actually some purity obsessed asshole who sent it to a literal, physical, real child? You really think the person who tagged their stuff so thoroughly to protect people who didn't want to read it from reading it is the person responsible for the harm done to that child? And you're going to come into the comments on this post and go "I don't agree with proshipping but..." at me. Fuck right off. If that's your first thought, get off the internet, go take a good hard look at yourself in the mirror and contemplate why you're getting your knickers in a twist over works of fiction. Because people like you are the ones on the slipperly slope to harming real, living, breathing children. Not the poor bugger who just wanted to write and share a work of fiction for reasons of their own.

Sometimes being the mum who exists in fandom spaces leads to awkward, even concerning, conversations. Such as the one which happened this morning. The mum of my daughter's best mate asked me if one of their mutual friends had sent her a specific message. This message was a link to a fic on ao3, if this had been a G rated fic this conversation would not have happened. It was not G rated. It was an E rated fic. Our kids aren't even 12 yet. As it happens, both of our kids have their internet access heavily locked down and monitored. They have phones because of how their school manages homework. The mutual friend, however, is not so monitored. Or she wasn't, given what her mum found she's about to be. This kid had found a fandom, joined it, and found it chock full of antis. The fic had been sent to her by one of them as an example of the sort of terrible people out there who need to be harassed and attacked because they wrote a smutty story.

Someone thought it was appropriate to send written porn to an 11 year old to encourage her to attack the author.

This resulted in a very awkward conversation where I had to explain to multiple horrified parents the anti culture that is becoming so prevalent. The fact that there are adults who use that purity message to groom kids. The way they escalate and how it bleeds into real life. One parent told me she'd wondered why her 14 year old was suddenly concerned about the two year age gap between her parents. The more I explained, the more absolutely ludicrous it sounded and the more baffled these poor mums looked. More than once I was told "but the characters aren't real, it's really weird but it isn't hurting anyone". Which is the point. The fictional situation isn't hurting anyone. The person who sent porn to an 11 year old is.

Was the person who sent it the author? Doubtful, that thing was tagged in the extreme. Was the person who sent it an adult? Almost certainly. The parent who's child received the original message has found more concerning stuff and gone to the police, but from the language the person doing the sending was in the US. We aren't. Did my daughter receive it? No, she isn't interested in that fandom and therefore wouldn't have bothered with it. Is this the fault of the author? No, they didn't send the link, they didn't ask to be harassed, they wrote a story and put it on ao3, the website created in response to rampant censorship and designed to allow for all kinds of fiction. Is this the fault of the parents? Partially, they should have been looking at their daughter's internet use and clocked what was happening sooner. Is this the fault of the child? No, she's 11, she didn't know better.

This has been a difficult day. Multiple parents have had their eyes opened to parts of fandom culture they had no idea existed. And the thing of it is, they aren't concerned about the why of anti rhetoric. They don't care about the adults writing about teens or rape or incest or torture or any of the rest, because they looked at the clearly tagged and rated fics and figured that it worked the same as a warning on any streaming service. They only cared because some utterly vile individual decided to expose their child to something this girl might not have looked at for years.

Proshippers did not cause what I have spent afternoon helping several sets of parents navigate. Antis did. Normally I'm fairly quiet about the whole debate because I just want to get on with my life and share my experiences. Today I got dragged into that mess in my every day life and the adults in the equation didn't react the way Antis like to think they would. They didn't condemn the author. They condemned the anti who shared the work with a preteen.

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 795: The peak of their limits!!

Pag 1

2: Isn't there anything I can do?

3: Listen to him

4: You don't have to say anything back, you can just nod

5: Just listen to his nonsense

6: Like always

8: To... Toudou-san

Pag 2

1: He'll arrive soon

2: In just a few minutes he'll pass on this road right before our eyes

4: There's no need to stay back

5: Right now, he's fighting

6: He's running against his rival for “the last kilometer”....

His muscles are aflame, he's wiping away his sweat, and his body is screaming

Pag 3

1: His limbs are numb because the blood isn't flowing until his extremities

His heart rate is at its limit, his body feels like it's in danger and is trying to stop moving

2: He's fighting against his own body that's trying to stop, and against his rival who's moving forward

It's the “peak of their limits”

3: The peak of... their limits

4: That's the fight he wanted

5: Watch him closely

Call out to him with me and he'll be happy

6: Don't worry

Racers recognize even the quietest voice

And then

Pag 4

1: they can turn them into power!!

Pag 5

1: Sooreeeee

2: 700m left until the mountain line!!

They're lined up!! They're neck and neck!!

So close!

Pag 6

1: 600m left!!

2: The race passes through the intersections with Mt. Hiko's trailhead!!

Goo Hakogaku!!

Don't lose, Chiba!!

They're neck and neck!!

Pag 7

1: Neither of them is stopping!!

Pag 9

2: So much sweat is falling on the road!!

3: They're passing through the last intersection and then will face the final gate

4: They're entering a narrow road!!

Pag 10

1: 500m left!!

2: They're still pedaling!!

Pag 11

1: Since earlier my fingers in my right shoes

2: keep getting cramps

3: The blood isn't reaching their tips

4: It's not, but

6: I'll keep turning my legs!!

7: I'll tighten up my shoes to reduce the pain!!

Pag 12

1: Mountain King tightened his shoe's dial!!

Woah he's serious!!

2: What does it mean!?

Biking shoes have a dial

3: During a long race, cyclists' feet get thinner, so they turn their shoes' dial up to tighten and secure their feet in preparation for the final dash

Wire

Depending on the direction you turn the dial, it tighten or become loose

4: In the scene of European races, it's something cyclists do a lot to prepare for the race before the finish line!!

5: Is Mountain Kind going to attack here!?

But right now it looked like he was trying to avoid the pain in his leg

Pag 13

1: This is bad!!

It's not just my fingers

My arms have lost feeling too when I'm dancing

3: But it's okay, it's just right

My legs are moving

4: And you're next to me!!

We're still fighting!!

Pag 14

1: If my arms won't move then I can just swing my bike from my shoulders!!

Pag 15

1: Manami attacked again!!

Amazing!

He's going!!

2: In the hardest section!!

He's leaving Mountain King behind using his dancing!!

Pag 16

1: He's opening a gap between himself and Sohoku's Mountain King!!

3: Mountain King is in a tough spot!!

4: He instinctively dropped his head!!

Pag 17

1: Try to have fun, Onoda

4: Races are hard

5: When your opponent accelerates in an unexpected moment, when the attack is stronger than you had imagined

6: Remember

Pag 18

1: You can't win a race without going through tough times

2: Teshma-san....

3: “Just before” means that there are many options

Like, will my opponent get exhausted? Could he make a mistake? You'll be thinking like that

4: Surprisingly, victory or defeat depend on these little things

Pag 19

1: Well, that's just my advice though

I actually always end up slowing down at critical moments, and so I lose

2: That's not true at all!! At this year's Inter High it was Teshima-san who won the mountain prize!! Thank you so much for that!!

I get it, I get it

3: Well, you're an earnest person and won two times already, so it's like I'm preaching to the choir

4: But there are times when you're weak

5: I've seen that many times too

9: During a race, when it's “just before”, just remember this

10: When there is both a hard road and an easy road

Pag 20

1: Don't hesitate to take the hard road!!

2: Right now for a moment, I was thinking “why am I going now” and “when it's hard to breathe”!!

Pag 21

2: My chest hurts!!

3: My legs hurt!!

4: But still!!

6: I'll choose what to chase!!

Pag 22

1: Mountain King is accelerating and chasing!!

Aaaaaagh

4: Sangaku!!

5: I'm ready!!

[consciousgordiacea]

Oh my fucking god. You are so so so annoying. Your character is actually insufferable and has ruined this whole goddamn fandom. Gordon has never seen any fucking consequences for his actions because you're too much of a coward to give your precious god-character narrative challenges. You solve everything without a thought and it is so unsatisfying to watch because there are never any stakes. You are an obnoxious presence in the fandom and so many people are fed up, but you post about your sad little feelings when you get the slightest bit of criticism or pushback and your enablers flock to reassure you that your shitty character is good. You are a small, small person with so much growing to do. Your victim complex is pathetic and I have absolutely no clue how you were able to make connections here. The only good thing that you have done is exposing the fucking fruit cult as transphobes. You ruined Milton's character (Milton has been my favourite character to follow) and the whole thing feels really fujoshi on your end. Which shouldn't surprise me since you think child porn is an ok thing in the world. I am so fed up with your awful fucking character and your awful fucking presence in the servers.

-XOXO, Salty🧂

DL? DR 💅

[effervescentdragon]

a propos max's comment about having the wrong passport and the discourse about racism the other day;

okay so i didnt wanna answer these anons before because i didnt have the energy or the will to do it, i was having too much fun traipsing around munich, and i also didnt wanna keep dragging the outrage towards the blog of a person who started thag bcs some of yall are too comfortable being mean to people for any percieved slight and i didnt want to expose them to that but there are some things i wanna say.

my problem with the whole thing was that the commonly accepted and constantly reinforced idea of racism is very us-centric and does not apply to europe. as humpty dumpty once said, words only mean what i want them to mean and same word will be used in different socio-political-cultural contexts for different things, given that participants in the conversation are assumed to have the same background contextual knowledge as to why those words are used thusly. my issue stemmed from the fact that for usamericans, racism as they perceive and experience it trumps everything, and they are guilty of dismissing and mocking the very real existence of something we in europe like to call xenophobia, which all of those labeled immigrants have experienced. i believe it is laughable and deserving of mockery to come onto an european person's post and americasplain that actually no, white people dont experience discrimination. it comes feom an erroneous belief of what a "white person" is, relying on purely the colour of someone's skin. for example, in the early 20th century, irish immigrants were considered non-white in the us. race as such is a complicated construct, and definitions change through time, just like language does. you do everyone a disservice if you refuse to accept that the baseline of discrimination is power imbalance, and this power imbalance may come from many different origins and is dependent on the lens you're looking at it through. it can be class, nationality, ethnicity, race (in whichever way it's meant), sexuality, religion, gender, etc.

one of the things you learn as a linguistic student is that you have to be aware of the context of utterances at all times and that it does you no good to assume that your lived experience is important or impactful in any way to someone who is speaking and is not you. any generalisation or playing "me is woe-est" will only have you ridiculed (or blocked), because nobody takes kindly to their own experiences being invalidated or being told that there is only one way (of experiencing something, in this case opression) or the highway. developing critical thinking skills and the ability to listen to other people's experiences is crucial if you want to interact with the world as a whole. not everything is about you.

[aspoonofsugar]

Some Millie and IMP Thoughts

I love Helluva Boss's new episode for all the reasons everyone else does! In particular, my favorite part is Millie getting fleshed out more.

I have always liked Millie and I disagree with people saying she is badly written. That said, the focus she got this episode adds a ton of depth to both her, her role in the series and the dynamics within IMP.

BLITZ AND IMP

Blitz is the titular character and protagonist of the series. He is the boss in Helluva Boss. As a result, everyone else is in the story for his sake. In particular, IMP is Blitz's found family:

Blitzo: Look, the point is, Loona is a valued member of our family, and we don't get rid of family. Moxxie: We aren't a family, sir! You are the boss! We are the employees!

Through them (and Stolas) Blitz gets to explore his ghosts and to heal. How is that so?

Loona and Moxxie seem to me two sides of the same coin:

-Loona is like Blitz, as she is told by the world she has no real value:

Adoption Center Lady: Oh, her? That's just Loona. What a nightmare. Serious attitude problems. She'll be out of our hair next month when she ages out. Good riddance, if you ask me. She'll never amount to anything much.

So, Blitz latches on her and adopts her. He showers her with the love he never got from his father.

-Moxxie is like Blitz, as he is abused by his father and loses his mother. As a result, he grows up unsure of himself and in need of love and approval:

Blitzo: Well, I'm glad everything ended up okay. Good to know we both have daddy issues, Mox.

However, Blitz often treats him poorly, downplays his abilities and mocks him.

So, Loona and Moxxie are Blitz's mirrors, as he projects on them in opposite ways. He treats Loona like he wishes his father treated him. He treats Moxxie similarly to how his father treated him. Obviously, Blitz isn't an abuser like Buckzo. He loves Moxxie and more importantly he is not his father. However, he and Moxxie do have a mentor-mentee dynamic and it is clear as day Moxxie wants Blitz's approval:

Blitzo: Gonna be honest, Moxxie- Not too bad for your first solo mission. Moxxie: Reeeeeally, siiiir? Blitzo: Nooo, no, not really. You're a fucking disgrace.

Still, Blitz is often unable to give it to him, despite the fact he clearly cares. This is also why Loona and Moxxie get often on each other's nerves:

Loona: How am I supposed to smell anything in this city? Moxxie: Can't you even do one thing right? Loona: Can't you finally do something about how fat you are?

Moxxie is the most critical of Blitz's favoritism towards Loona and is the one insisting Blitz calls her out on her poor attitude towards clients. This is not by chance. They are just like bickering siblings :''')

In a sense, this episode even subtly confirms this foiling:

Blitz: Loonie's perfect, and Moxxie's… probably got some good traits too and I'm sure we'll figure them out eventually.

Loona is perfect and Moxxie has no good traits. What about seeing the world in black and white?

So, where does Millie fit in all of this?

Blitzo: So I'm your best friend, huh? Millie: What do you think? Blitzo: I think…I- I've never had a real friend that I didn't wanna fuck.

She is the only one Blitz does not project over, so they grow into genuine friends. They are equals, value each other and love each other. So, Millie freely states what Loona and Moxxie also think, but can't properly convey:

Millie: He (Blitz) gave me so much…A career, a husband, a future. And now…He's my best friend. Blitzo: You… you don't hate me? Millie: Naw, never.

Blitz gave her, Moxxie and Loona a better future. He is their precious boss and a treasured family member.

MILLIE'S THEME

Helluva Boss has two main themes:

Relationships

Classism

Moxxie is linked to Blitz's unhealthy way to build relationships. Their bond is a complicated mix of friendship, family love, professional interest and a little bit of possessiveness on Blitz's part. That's why it is so complicated and contradictive. Millie ties into this as Moxxie's wife, since M&M's relationship is Blitz's ideal one.

Still, this episode makes clear Millie's true thematic relevance is for the topic of classism:

Millie: We… heh. We don't deserve this. We're just Wrathians, Blitzo. Muscle. It's all we're good for, all I'm good for. It's why you hired me. Any demon good at making a buck is welcome in Lust or Greed, but here? Demons like us ain't cut out for this.

Classism permeates Hell, which is built on a strong hierarchy. All characters have suffered the consequences of this, while being influenced by it at the same time. For example:

Blitz is an imp, who has been looked down and victimized by society. However, he also embraces classist prejudices and uses them as an excuse to push Stolas away.

Stolas is a Goetia, who has been a prisoner of his family's expectations and of his role in society. However, he is also unconsciously discriminating towards imps. He has no ill will towards them, but he calls them silly names and belittles them

Millie is the same. She is a wrathian imp of humble origins. In a sense, she is a stereotypical imp. She is incredibly strong, was born and lived the majority of her life in Wrath, aka imps' original ring. She fits the expectations of both her family and society. However, she deep down wishes for more, which is why she leaves the family ranch to become an assassin. This choice is already seen as subversive by her family, who expected her to stay home, so she could help with the family business. However, Millie herself has no high expectations for her future:

Millie: Bullshit! Who sent you? Millie: Who are you working for?! Blitzo: What? You don't believe me? Millie: Imps don't work for themselves, asshole.

She still sees herself stuck in Wrath. She will be one of many underpaid goons, who work for higher ranking demons. A life a little bit more adventurous than the one at the farm. Still, nothing extraordinary. Then, she meets Blitz:

Millie: Who's that? Your boss? Hah! Blitzo: HA he fucking wishes. No, I work for myself, lady.

Blitz is the first one, who recognizes her potential and who believes she can become more than what she is. He gives her the chance to explore the world outside the Wrath Ring and brings her up to Pride. When Millie doubts herself and her role in society, he is the one to reassure her:

Blitzo: Millie, I have spent too much of my time, energy, and holes into setting this up for us to entertain your bullshit. I brought you into this company for a reason, okay? You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring.

Blitz gives Millie a new life, where she is free to be herself and to choose a husband she would have never chosen, if she had stayed home with her family.

Thanks to Blitz and her work at IMP she is by this point a different person than the one she was. She does not completely fit in Wrath anymore:

Sallie May: Heh, yeah, I mean, with so many exciting things here, it's no wonder you never make your way back home. SHIT! That slipped out. Millie: ..What? Sallie May: You know… the Wrath Ring, all that dirt and rust and boring nothingness. Not much of a thriving club scene down there, why visit that, right?

Which is why she is now slowly overcoming her prejudices:

Millie: Oh yeah! Y'all haven't met my boss Blitzo! And his hellhound! Loona: I'm not just his hellhound.

It is not by chance Millie is the one calling Loona Blitz's Hellbound, as if she were a pet. Moreover, it is not by chance she does so, while talking with her family. It is probably normal for wrathian imps to see hellbounds as property. So, when she visits home, she goes back to a familiar language and mindset, without even realizing how offensive it is. That is why it is relevant this episode has Millie share a bonding moment with Loona, where she calls her by name:

Millie: Thanks. Loona.

She is not only overcoming her self-insecurities, but she is also starting to see other demons differently. She is growing not only more happy, but also more open minded. All thanks to Blitz's impact on her life:

Millie: Most of my life I bought into the idea that all I could ever be was a simple farm girl. Or best an underpaid goon. Until I met some knucklehead who never gave a fuck about what anyone else said he could or couldn't be. He made me believe he could be anything. And that made me feel like I could be anything, too.

CHARLIE AND BLITZ

Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are twin series. They are complementary stories, with different focuses and a shared heart. This is shown in Charlie and Blitz, their respective protagonists. They are opposites.

Charlie is a royal demon, a young rich girl, who is optimistic and idealistic. She is obsessed with seeing the good in others. Blitz is instead a humble imp, an adult man, who is cynical and genre-savy. He sees only the worst in people to protect himself. However, both disrupt the status quo:

Charlie decides to completely change the hierarchy between hell and heaven. She is breaking the system the world is built on and re-writing the laws of the universe.

Blitz changes things in little ways. He is not trying to reform society, but he still acts in ways society does not expect, so he subverts hierarchies and transforms people around him.

That's something that comes up several times:

Striker: Boss, huh…? Ohhh, so YOU'RE the bold imp to start his own killing biz? Blitzo: Yeah, well if you're good at somethin', you should probably capitalize. Striker: Not many Imps start businesses on their own. That's pretty impressive, sir.

Crimson: Oh, I'm sure. You got to be Blitz, with the silent "o", right? I've heard a lot of good things about you and your work. Blitzo: Really? What kind of shit has Moxxie been spreading about me? I'll fucking kill you Moxxie, don't you fucking test me! Crimson: No, no! From all over. Looks like you're building a bit of a name for yourself here, kid.

Both Striker and Crimson comment on Blitz's business, in two moments that are to be seen as parallels:

-Striker says so, as the group visits Millie's family. Millie's family is a relatively happy one, as they all clearly love each other. However, it is an economically struggling one:

Joe: We lost our old farm hand to one of them terrors last week.

Millie's parents are loving, but traditionalists and stuck in the old ways.

-Crimson says so, as the group meets him and discovers he is Moxxie's father. Crimson is an imp, who built an empire. Moreover, he is not scared to go against the hierarchy and to challenge even the deadly sins:

Crimson: You probably just asked if I know who I'm dealing with. And, oh yes, I know. The weakest and most non-threatening of the Sins. The king who will do whatever it takes to save the worst-kept secret in all of Hell. We both know you won't risk anything happening to the clown. So be a good little bitch boy, and do the thing. My lawyers will be over shortly with the contract of demands. You have until the witching hour to sign it. Hueheheheheheheh!

Still, he sacrifices everything else to greed. In order to climb up, he destroys everyone around him. He killed his wife and abused Moxxie, so his son leaves him the first chance he gets.

In other words, Blitz offers Millie the opportunity to social climb and he offers Moxxie true friendship and comraderie. He gives them what they miss and want.

STRIKER

Finally, this episode indirectly adds a new layer to Striker's character and his role in the series. So, Striker is clearly everyone's dark foil.

Specifically, he is Blitz's jungian shadow aka what Blitz represses:

Striker: Blitzo, come on. You know, the two of us are superior than most of our kind. And you were so above suckin' on a disgusting, rich, pompous Goetia, only to sneak topside for scraps and work for bitter sinners, who could care less who you are, when you could be slaying Overlords.

He embodies Blitz's darkest side and tempts him to give in to it. For example, he backs Blitz up in his fight with Fizz over Royal Demons:

Striker: As far as I'm concerned, you two are BOTH embarrassments to our kind for meddlin' with blue-bloods to begin with. But at least loud-mouth here has the sense to only fuck his rich bitch, instead of bein' a little purse dog. Blitzo: Oh, great. The fuckin' supremacist is on my side, wonderful. Fizzarolli: Neither of you filth bags know what you're even talkin' about. If you think you're superior to ANYONE, then you're no better than any royal— Striker: DON'T. You. Dare… Finish that sentence, clown…

And let's say it is not by chance Striker is burnt and probably gets some scars the same episode it is revealed Blitz accidentally set his family circus on fire:

He is clearly meant to embody the anti-theme, both when it comes to relationships and classism. He is who Blitz might become, if he gave in to his worst instincts. That is why he is the character physically threatening Stolas's life and calling him out on his privilege at the same time:

Striker: YOU. Don't get to talk over me! I don't have to listen to your bullshit! All you royals ever do is try to talk over us!

He challenges Stolas to see the darkness in Blitz he keeps ignoring. Moreover, Striker's attempt on Stolas only works because Blitz himself does not warn Stolas, believing that with his powers the goetia can easily survive an imp's attack:

Blitzo: Stolas got what? How?… He can get hurt?

In short, Striker is a key character for both Blitz and Stolas. That said, he does foil also Moxxie and Millie. (Which is why they get to fight him twice, just like Blitz - they lose the first time and win the second).

In his debut episode, he is openly juxtaposed to Moxxie. He is the ideal imp, the one Millie's parents would have liked their daughter to marry. He is a great farmer and an even better fighter. He is strong and charming and easily defeats Moxxie at everything, even music. That said, it turns out Moxxie is a far better person and husband and gets to call out Millie's parents on it, gaining their respect in the process:

Moxxie: Y'know, she protected me. And maybe I'm not a strong beefy dickhead, but Millie has the strength enough for both of us! You two are getting on her case about being hurt by a psychopath you hired?! Shaaaaame on you!

Ghostf***ckers instead makes Striker and Millie's foiling obvious. Both are wrathian assassins, who work as goons for others:

Millie: Not exactly a shortage of imp assassins in Wrath. Reputation is everything.

Here lies Striker's contradiction. He keeps saying he hates the hierarchy, but in the end he acts exactly as society expects him to:

Stolas: Well, you seem to be forgetting; you are working for a royal right now!

He hates royals, but takes orders from them. Even when he decides to leave Wrath, he goes to Greed, so exactly where "imps able to make a buck are welcome", according to Millie:

Crimson: HEY! Hick-for-hire! I said watch 'em, not fuck 'em. Keep ya hands off the merchandise!

See? Striker acts like some big shot, but in the end he operates within the system, rather than subverting it. Both Fizz and Blitz are far more successful at overcoming the hierarchy than he is. Fizz does not take orders from royals, but becomes a romantic and business partner to one. Blitz does not resort depending on royals or imps for his job. Rather, he takes orders only from himself and invents a new business.

Striker says not everyone gets the chance to live in Pride:

Striker: Look. Not every ring is some fancy-ass city, with some fancy-ass mansion, that only fancy-ass royals get to live in. Some of us have hard lives to live.

And yet, he is offered it by Blitz, just like Millie:

Blitzo: Isn't this guy great? It's gonna be nice workin' with him. Yeaaaah! I asked him if he wants to join I.M.P.

If he had joined IMP, he could have found a family, a strong business partner and could have embraced a new life. He did not and became IMP's enemy instead. On the contrary, Millie did and is now a happier and better person.

WHAT ABOUT LOONA?

Personally, I think Loona is gonna be key in Blitz's development, as both her past, arc and relationship with her dad are very well set up. If Moxxie focuses on relationships, whereas Millie on classism, Loona will probably offer a synthesis of both themes:

Loona is Blitz's adoptive daughter and the first member of his new found family.

Loona is a hellbound, so a demon even lower than imps.

I am very curious to see how her story develops and I am looking forward to discover more about her past and to see if her foiling with Bee gets explored more. After this episode I am more curious than ever!

[naevisnova]

debunking shifting information

The whole thing with turning off the left side of ur brain is so stupid bc are u aware on what you're saying. Turning off the left side of ur brain is literally u becoming stupid. The left side is used for doing problems and critical thinking. Such as doing math problem's. When u say you're gonna turn off the left side of ur brain you're saying that you're gonna turn stupid. Shifttok suddenly made up this stupid thing that if u turn off the left side of ur brain u will shift. Do u see how stupid that sounds. And anyway how is that even possible bro. shifttok is messing with yall.