#abuse of the english language

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - The Little Toaster Who Could, Is An Asshole

@lovelyunknown @princessfanonanona @fangirlwriting-stories @fentoaster @axion-labs @turtlesnails @littlebadger

Toaster powers go! Terrorise the half-dead teen that hates toast! He deserves it! According to Wes at least.

Wes glares at Danny, Danny stares back in unbridled glee.

Wes flips him off, Danny flips him off right back… before doing double finger guns and sticking out his tongue.

Wes slams down the notebook he’d been using in an attempt to ‘write down’ his ‘proof’, not that written shit counted for shit with any of this shit, pointing aggressively at Danny; Danny points at himself too just very mockingly.

“Would you two stop making all my staff laugh? They have jobs to do and you’re half way to me just kicking you out”.

Wes rounds on the manager or owner lady, “but he is dead! He threw eggs at me! Invisible eggs!”.

Danny’s grin from the front doorway is a bit manic, “where would I even get invisible eggs! Huh Wes! Ever think about that one!”.

“Fuck you!”.

“Fuck yourself!”.

“You dated a damn harpy!”.

“Are you saying I unalived my own eggs!”.

“Why are you censoring yourself!”.

“Because you’re a weak little baby boy bitch!”.

“We are the SAME AGE!”.

“Say that to time daddy’s face! I dare you!”.

The owner lady throws her hands up, snapping, “out! Get out!”, at Wes.

Wes looks afronted, because he is, “what? Just me?!”, gesturing at Danny aggressively, “him????”.

She sighs, “he’s not actually inside my store, you are. Out”. She’s thankfully when Wes actually leaves, even if the teen hurls his ‘research’ at the Fenton boy first and runs after the Fenton kid when said Fenton starts sticking the notebook in his mouth and shaking his head back and forth like a feral dog.

There was something very wrong with both of those boys. Something very very wrong. The Fenton boy was definitely not dead though, that would be far too normal for a Fenton so unhinged.

Wes grabs the end of his notebook, Danny does not stop shaking his head though, resulting in Wes’s lanky ass getting flung and smacked around. Danny intentionally makes his mouth frothy for added rabies effect. Making Wes have to shake off, and pull a tooth out of, his notebook once he does successfully rip it out of Danny’s mouth. “Your existence is a crime and affront to god”.

Danny open mouth grins cheerily, “I thought I already established that the day I was reborn into death”.

Wes immediately writes that ‘quote’ down in his book.

Danny stares judgingly, “are you writing all my word weavy bullshit down? Really? That’s kinda sad, man”.

Wes scowls back, “that’s the thirty-second different way you’ve described being dead, one day that will add up and people won’t be able to deny me”.

“You’re gonna be great for my Wikipedia article one day, when you work for me as my maid”.

“Fuck you”.

“It’s still easier for you to fuck yourself you know”.

Wes tackles him, “oh how I wish someone else had to see you and your bullshit!”.

Danny scowls with feeling, slapping Wes a couple of times as they roll around on the ground getting muddy as fuck since it was raining out, “why would you say that! The curs-ed word! Banishment to the sinner! Boo!”.

“BOO YOURSELF!”.

“HOW DARE YOU! THAT’S MY LINE!”.

“YOU STARTED IT, I’LL FINISH IT!”.

“YOU CAN’T FINISH THE EXISTENCE OF A PHRASE YOU DIPSHIT!”.

“JUST LIKE YOU COULDN'T FINISH OFF YOURSELF PROPERLY!”.

Danny snarls, “I’m going to break you like a toothpick”, and pins Wes down using more arms than humanly possible.

Wes wishes he had his camera.

Wes does not have his camera.

At least Danny’s stupid ass ain’t heavy enough to break his ribs. “You weigh less than a bag of potatoes, go ahead and try”.

Now if Wes was a ghost, and thus could just reform a torn off limb, Danny would actually break his arm. But Wes is human and thus can’t do that. Meaning Danny can’t do that to him. Oh the woes of being morally in the right. If Wes were Vlad and a billionaire then Danny’d just burn down his house in recompense. Is he mentally using the word wildly wrong? Mostly likely, shut up Jazz.

Besides, Vlad would take the arson as a compliment and praise him.

Wes huffs, tired, “are you going to clean me off or not?”. Danny smirks and turns the teen intangible, all the muck falling through the teen… as well as all of his clothing except his underwear. Danny running off immediately while sticking his tongue out and cackling; all while Wes is scrambling up off the ground, wadding his re-soaked muddy clothes up, and hurling them after Danny.

They nail Danny in the head, making the stupid half-ghost face-plant into a streetlight. Wes shouting, “HA!”.

But Danny scrambles up himself, grabs the clothing, and holds them above his head, “mine now bitch! THE SPOILS OF WAR BELONG TO THE VICTOR!”.

Leaving Wes huffing, panting, by himself, slowly realizing that now he has to walk home muddy and practically naked… “Zone DAMN IT PHANTOM!”.

Danny, in distance, can be heard shouting, “GET WRECKED!”, by more than a handful of people. Everyone and their mother knowing that means the Fenton and Weston kids had gone at it again.

Danny floats down through the rarely used ‘attic’ grinning to himself, he felt like he accomplished a lot today. Looking around for an empty box, he is absolutely packaging up Wes’s clothes -without washing them- and mailing them through the post back to him. They were gonna be rank when the guy opened it up. Ha! What fun!

Transforming back as he finds a suitable box and some packing tape; dropping the clothing in unceremoniously with a feral grin.

Unfortunately it looks like today’s tomfuckery wasn’t quite done with him, as a voice he’s never heard (he thinks) shouts, “oh what the freshy fruity fuck!”.

Danny jumping up and spinning around, right, fuck, Wes saying a stupid wish. Fucking asshole! He should know better! And of course Danny would have been too distracted tormenting Wes to have noticed his ghost sense going off. Ancients end him entirely.

Thing is though? There’s no one. Like, actually no one, “what the?”. Oh is someone spying on him again? Someone who’s not Vlad?

And whom probably doesn’t have positive-ish motives for it?

That would be his luck after all.

The voice pipes back up again, “how the Hell do I! Me! Find this massive crap out! Are you always so pissy wissy with your shitty shit!”.

Danny starts pushing stuff around to figure out where the Zone the Voice is coming from.

It’s…

It’s a fucking toaster???

A TOASTER?????

The toaster seems disgruntled, the toaster flings itself at Danny’s face.

Danny promptly swats it into a wall.

Why is a toaster talking to him? How is a toaster talking to him? It attacked him! Sure that last part wasn’t super weird since Technus assaulted him with random appliances all the time, but still.

“Oh cool, a wall, as if being a toaster wasn’t hard enough”.

“Why are you talking?! How!”.

The toaster flops from side to side in a weird version of walking at Danny vaguely aggressively, “oh you know, only your happy pappy toasterifying me for the fuckin’ lolly lols or some somersault shit”, it uses its cord to throw a picture frame vaguely in Danny’s direction. Apparently the toaster had some pent up rage.

Fair.

So did Danny.

Danny side steps the picture frame, “and when did he do this? How even? You are like a whole ass person in there?”.

The toaster seems infuriated, slapping its cord around, “of course I am, numbnuts! I wasn’t born as no tinker toy bullshit! Who the fuck would give birth to a toaster!”, the toaster spits toast at him.

Danny is highly offended. He really hates toast.

Like if the universe had created one true evil it would be in the form of toast and only toast. Always toast. “Don’t spit toast at me! You absolute heathen!”.

“I’ll spit what I diddly darn wanna! Fuck you! I’m your upperclassman any ways, Fenton! So deally wheelly!”.

Oh ancients his dad turned one of his classmates into a fucking toaster. A toaster that’s spitting more roasted toast at him likely out of spite. Danny impales a piece into the wall with an ice spear.

The toaster snares, “don’t abuse my creations!”.

“Like Hell I won’t! Fuck toast!”, Danny tries tackling the toaster, it uses its cord to grab on to a lamp and effectively flee from Danny’s would be constrictive grasp. Danny shouting, “do you want to be detoasted or not!”.

“Oh it’s too late for that, you douchey canoey! Your poopy poppy sold that ‘ish to a Cullen Family wannabe actor with rich sauce for flavouring!”

Fucking Vlad! Ancients. Danny swears that, the sometimes vaguely evil, ‘mentor’/‘uncle’ of his gets into more weird shit than Danny did. And Danny’s the one who more or less infected an entire town with death, so that’s a feat and a half. Danny grinning, “I know that cash money bitch, I can take you there if you!”, another piece of toast is fired off, “just!”, more toast spit, “stop!”, again! Toast!, “assaulting!”, more toast, “me!”, you guessed it! Toast, “with!”, annnnnnd TOAST, “toast!”.

The toaster growls, it sounds like the metal shit inside it is clanging around violently, but Danny does manage to tackle it and walk through the attic wall all while holding it at arms length like it’s a bomb.

More than a couple people see the Fenton boy just… walking down the street screaming shrieking practically incoherently at a toaster he’s holding as far away from himself as possible; the toaster is firing toast haphazardly into the air and shaking wildly every so often… as if there’s some kind of demonic possession fuelled conversation going on.

Absolutely no one approaches to ask. And that was only partly because a random construction worker got thrown by the toaster cord at one point.

One person did shout, “watcha got there?!?”, at the teen though. Who had just responded with, “A SMOOTHIE! AN ANGRY TOAST SMOOTHIE!”.

Wes saw a video of it, Wes cackled meanly. He might have had an embarrassing walk home but at least he had a new phone background photo.

Danny hurls the toaster at the door in lieu of knocking, at least his coordination does not suck and he catches the toaster as it bounces back at him. The toaster shrieking, “I will bake you like a crispy spaghetti bolognese!”.

“Are you a fucking toaster or an oven!”.

“I’m a McHeaty McMaddy bitch either way!”.

Vlad opens the door with, “‘Maddie’?”, he is clearly extremely confused.

Danny grumbling, figures, “of course you heard the ‘maddy’ part and no not mom, this thing just speaks like a fucking lunatic”, and practically shoves the toaster at Vlad’s chest, “here, I… I need your help. I have a sentient toaster, that knows I’m vaguely dead-ish, ‘cause I do not look out for fucking toasters when transforming and shit”.

The toaster vibrates against Vlad’s chest and fancy suit, “then you’re a stupidy stopidy bibidy bopidy fool!”. Vlad looks offended.

Fucking good, honestly. Danny huffing and continuing like he hadn’t been interrupted, “and apparently Jack toasterified this toaster that used to not be a toaster and instead be a person, and apparently mailed a ‘Cullen Family actor wannabe with rich sauce for flavouring’ -which must be you- the invention dad did this with because he no longer, and I quote, ‘trusty-wustied him selfie-welfie’. Please tell me you have more tolerance for toaster spit than I do”.

Vlad sighs heavily, it’s both fond and annoyed. The man lets him and the toaster in at least.

Of course then the toaster instantly flees from his grasp. Like a dick.

Both him and Vlad just watch the thing fling itself around the mansion with its cord and ‘feet’. Vlad blinking, “this is somehow the strangest thing I’ve ever had to help you with”.

“I know right?”.

…”why is it a toaster?”, the toaster attempts to toast some of Vlad‘s paperwork, it unfortunately works. “I’ll admit to not believing that odd letter Jack sent about making a teenage toaster, I regret that decision deeply”.

“That’s fair”.

They both have to rush to put out the fire the toaster’s started, Danny shouting, “there is something seriously wrong with you!”.

“I’VE BEEN A TOASTER FOR A YEAR! HOW WOULD YOU FUCKY WHUCKY FEELY ABOUT THAT!”.

Danny nods acceptingly while chasing the thing, “I’d cry”. It’s true. He would.

Vlad actually laughs while helping with the chase, “yes the horror of being something that near exclusively creates your one true hate and fear”.

“Says the alcoholic!”.

“I thought you liked drinking with me?”.

Danny stops and shrugs at the man, “I mean yeah, but you kinda got a bit of an issue that we should probably sort out some day”, eyeing the toaster sucking in one of the portraits Vlad had done of them together. Vlad was going to kill this toaster at this rate, and fuck Danny might let him. “Preferably not now though, Sweet Ancients”.

Vlad hits the toaster with a broom, “bad! No! You spit that out right now!”.

“It’s not a cat, Vlad”.

“Well then it should not behave like one”.

The toaster escapes from the broom, knocking over a fancy glass top table shaped like a jaguar.

Danny grumbling and slipping on some glass, “at least it can’t vomit a painting up like a fucking hairball!”.

“I would absolutely make you clean that up, consider it a lesson on responsibility”.

“I do enough chores at home, Vladdie!”.

“And how many times have I offered to come and help?”.

“And how many times have I told you the labs too dangerous?”. Danny glares at the toaster as it bounces up and down on a fancy keurig, “hey! Leave the superior appliance alone!”. The coffee machine blows up.

“Die coffeefee!”

Oh yeah, fuck this toaster majorly. It spits more toast at Danny as if hearing his mental insult.

Vlad rolls up his sleeves, hands glowing some and stalking ominous after the feral machine. Danny throwing a pillow at him and at the toaster, a couple cat toys going sailing as well; one goes right into the toaster even. “Don’t actually kill it! That’s a person! Unfortunately!”.

“Y’all couldn’t killy billy me even if ya tried anyway!”.

“Do you want to die!”.

Vlad frowns at Danny, “somethings do, in fact, deserve to die. This is one of them”.

“No!”.

Ah say hello to the one thing neither of them can ever actually agree upon. Meanwhile the fucking toaster jingles, cat toy must have had a bell on it then.

Maddie the cat comes out of nowhere and bodily tackles the toaster, batting at it wildly.

She desires her toy. It has her toy. It will now be her toy!

The toaster shrieks and waddles away on its ‘feet’ rapidly, Maddie the cat smacking the ground after it trying to attack its cord, butt wiggling and paws flailing.

Vlad looks incredibly proud, “atta girl, Maddie”. Hell, even Danny’s incredibly proud, what a good cat. Fluffy and ferocious.

Vlad absolutely punts the toaster into the corner of wall mounted oil candle when it tries to shoot Maddie the cat with toast. Snarling, “I will end you”. Unfortunately he’s not quick enough with the ecto-blast to even singe the thing. It was one fast toaster.

Danny putting his hands on his knees and wheezing, toaster assaulting the chandelier, “how, how are we, getting the runaround, by a, by a fucking, toaster?”.

Vlad huffing with his hands on his hips, “when is anything your father messes with easy to resolve?”.

“Never?”.

“That’s what I thought”.

“Fuck, you”.

“I love you too Daniel”.

“Ancients you are, a weird uncle”.

“And you’re a weird godson”.

Which was probably the only reason this mentorship shit even worked at all. Both of them were way too fucking weird. Everything around them was always way too fucking weird.

Case and point?

The toaster managed to unhook the chandelier, which has now crashed down to the ground in a hail of tiny expensive diamonds.

But Maddie the cat is on a mission. A mission that shall not be deterred by any mess or wonton destruction. She bites the toasters cord and flings it around wildly like it’s a mouse she’s playing with.

A mouse she will keep playing with until it dies and stops moving.

She flings it up in the air and catches it by the cord again, regardless of the toaster trying to avoid that. “MAKE THE BATTY’S CATTY STOP!”.

“No”.

“Naw”.

To be fair, it was kind of hilarious. And Vlad and Danny were telekinetically moving anything sharp out of Maddie the cat’s way so she wouldn’t get hurt while she had her fun.

“Maybe I like being a toaster! Ever think about that!”

Both Vlad and Danny give simultaneous deadpanned, “why?”’s.

Maddie the cat flops herself on the toaster body, its cord still in her mouth, as she purrs happily and swishes her tail around lazily. She doesn’t look like she has any intention of releasing the toaster.

So the two halfa’s walk over and stare down at the toaster. The toaster pipes up dejectedly, “okay maybe that was a lie. I am angry and touch starved”.

“Fuckin’ mood”.

“That I can understand, to a degree”.

Danny and Vlad eye each other before both chuckling fondly.

“…help?”.

Maddie the cat purrs loudly.

Vlad smirks down at the thing, “oh I don’t know about that, Maddie looks quite content were she is”.

“I concur”.

Vlad blinks and grins wide, “glad to see your vocabularies improved”.

“You hired me a tutor, how couldn’t it?”.

“Money well spent, then”.

“HELLO! You CUCKY DUCKY’S gonna HELP!”.

Vlad makes a face, “I think you’d benefit from a tutor as well”, straightening his suit, and huffing, “but very well, I suppose”.

Danny chuckling, “I’ll keep an eye on murder mittens and her prey”. More so for Maddie the cat’s well being and not the toaster from Satan’s asshole’s well being.

…

Vlad gets the thing Jack mailed him, he never threw out anything Daniel’s parents sent him, in case he one day needed to use it to prove their neglect to outright abuse in a court of law. Someday CPS was going to have a field day with the case of a lifetime and then some.

Danny glances at the… rubber duck? As Vlad comes back over. “What?”.

Vlad rubs his forehead, “I was confused as well. It actually gets worse, some how”. Vlad bops the things on the head, causing it to inflate into a twenty foot tall rubber duck.

The toaster snarls, “damn you, ducky fucky! Damn you!”.

Danny picks Maddie the cat up off of the toaster while making ‘I’m watching you’ motions with his free hand at the toaster.

The toaster, knowing it’s beat and fearing the cat, does not move.

Vlad picks up the massive duck and drops it on the toaster, it absorbs the toaster and promptly spits a teenager out of its beak. The teenager landing on his back in a crumbled heap.

Danny blinks, “what the fuck dad? I have way too many questions”. The teen coughs up a jingly ball cat toy and Maddie the cat launches herself out of Danny’s arm at the ball as it rolls away; fluffy legs trying to carry her faster than she can go.

The teen stands up, hunched over with his limbs all spread apart like he’s attempting to take a fighting pose while also being extremely grossed out.

Danny blinks, “sooooo, you gonna tell anyone?”. Vlad sighs in exasperation.

The teen slowly looks to Danny, who gives him a hopeful look. “Fucking why? I got turned into a toaster, accosted two deady teddy’s, beat up by a cat, and vomited out of a duck. Ain’t no one believing shit dick all”.

Danny chuckles, “that’s fair. Wes tries but everyone thinks he’s crazy and he ain’t claiming shit that weird”.

The teen raises an eyebrow at him, still having not moved any other part of him a single inch, “ya got another fucker who found out and is now trying to exposey woosey you? Ha! You suck”.

“Fuck you”.

Vlad ruffles Danny’s hair, “and my offer to sue the boy into silence or provide hush money still stands”.

“I’m kinda having fun with it honestly”.

“I’ve noticed, and support you terrorizing him entirely”.

The teen spits out a toast on to the floor, looks down and stares at it, then does it again. More toast flopping onto the floor, “huh. Yeah no. Fuck this shit I’m out”, and waddles back and forth out the front door like he still can’t move his legs.

…

Danny sighs slowly, “dad is so going to have to write an apology letter to that kid”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “that man couldn’t be bothered to send me a single generic ‘get well soon’ card, you know he won’t do that”.

“Ugh”.

Danny absolutely has to get Jazz to write the apology letter, because Danny’s still to miffed about the toast assault to not come off as incredibly snide. Danny also collects as many toasts from Vlad’s place as he could and promptly dumped them on Wes in his sleep; he also finally mailed the box of muddy clothes.

The teen, meanwhile, absolutely spits toast at Jack the next time he sees the elder Fenton, it is absolutely caught on video. Said teen also turned out to be on the football team, which in typical Casper-high fashion, accepted him back on the team immediately. The Raven’s opponents were not prepared for the feral ex-toaster or his toast-related cruelty. Dash also later high-fived Danny, in the face, with a slice of toast as ‘gift’; Danny bit him without hesitation.

End.

PRompts: Danny's identity is found out in the funniest way possible. "Whatch'a got there?" "A smoothie" An unexpected person finds out Danny’s identity. (By unexpected I mean less his parents or Mr Lancer and more like, Star. Or Aunt Alicia. The more out there the better.) "I..I need your help." BadgerCereal Maybe Danny had been having a bit too much fun taunting Wes and even transforming in front of him. It was definitely coming back to bite him now…To be fair though, no one knew Desiree was right there. Maddie (the cat) saves the day Anything Badger Cereal (Vlad and Danny platonic father/son , mentor/apprentice )

[pharaohbean]

due to a. number of reasons (including but not limited to breakdowns on multiple bodily levels [emotionally i want to cry but mentally i cannot and therefore i only cry for about 5s physically which is Not Enough]) i am currently seeking fluff (sfw only!!) for my ships (tagged). can be on tumblr or ao3 or whatever- tumblr pls dont let me down /lh

comment or reblog with links or titles! im not afraid to go searching lol

[the-l00ker]

Twitter: Wilbur didn't do anything! There's no proof!

Wilbur in his apology:

"this persons feelings are completely vaild"

"These actions caused alot of pain to my ex-girlfriend"

"I have come to realise how much my past behaviour hurt this person"

(Realise Google definition: become fully AWARE of (something) as a fact; understand CLEARLY)

"I understood from our numerous conversation [...] consensual" followed by "while I may have perceived our interactions differently, I recognise that has processed and expressed feeling of hurt"

His "I understood" turns to a very uncertain "I may have perceived" - the additional "may have" making him seem not very confident in what he's saying.

He's confident in the things that make him look better but not confident when it comes to the overall overview of the situation because he saw it different.

He recognised that he had done something bad. This is from his apology himself!

But The Looky why are you taking apart quotes?

Wilbur Soot, on multiple occasions, has stated that he is an English Major (he literally wrote most the dsmp scripts), so why would an English major international use this type of wording.

Because when you take it apart, it makes him seem more confident in himself and pushes that he's not confident in her 'allegations'

His lack of confidence and acknowledgment is a divisive move by Wilbur to capitalise on his vulnerable fans and audience to make them believe in him more. The MEDIA and NEWS do this all the time.

It creates a "if he doesn't know what he's talking about then he didn't do it vibe" or a plain display ignorance, to make him look better.

And he made an apology UNPROMPTED, like when shelby said her ex she didn't say Wilbur.

It could have been an ex before or after him, if it wasn't him then he wouldn't need to apologise and could've been like "Hey that's not me!"

He didn't. He said it was him by making a response. Why apologise for something you didn't do?

You could argue that Shelby was a "terrible partner" or "used him for his clout" but on what basis?

If she was a terrible partner that's make a pair, and there is a bunch of evidence that support the fact that Wilbur behaves the way BOTH HE AND SHE HAVE STATED.

And if she was "using him for clout" then he could have been like, "Hey I don't like you. I don't want to stream with you anymore"

But then he joined Origins Smp and Shelby was there, they were both ghost, he goes out of his way to interact with her.

Your gonna act like if Wilbur told Tommy he was uncomfortable with Shelby being there, Tommy would have said no? Really?

And in the some Wilbur / shelby streams Wilbur was at her house.

Wilbur would have been better of saying his apology was AI generated and to have written a new one with he excuse, "he was in a rush"

[thevapollo]

I don't like fanon Shen Jiu because to me it reeks of victim blaming and The perfect victim complex

[dear-kumari]

Not sure if I love No Home because it's genuinely brilliant or because like 95% of webcomics I come across are poorly paced, highly derivative, vaguely reactionary escapist fantasies for people who are incapable of perceiving themselves as the bad guy in any situation

[fully-automatic-ass]

OM! HCs (P2)

(again, consisting only of these mfing musings)

Mammon has scars on his back from Lucifer's punishments

And a fear of heights from being strung up from the ceiling

Demonus is just moldy caprisun. I said what i said. (implying that demons can get high off human world sugar?)

Lucifer's favorite shape is a rectangle (idk it suits him)

Barbatos sleeps like a sickly Victorian child who won't make it through the winter (when he can sleep)

Belphegor was pretty jealous of Satan right after the fall because, y'know, youngest child and all that (i think this one is canon in one of belphie's devilgrams?? idk)

[zeldabecameaqueen]

hello qsmp enjoyers, here's my goodbye to a server that saved my days for a year now

i don't know what will happen with the qsmp in the future but i just can't put myself in it anymore

i feel disrespected by the choices Quackity's Studios made, as a french person, but also as someone who's been abused as a worker. I understand that the process may be long (every administrative stuff is hell) for the studio to solve the financial and hierarchical situation, and I believe Quackity did everything to solve the issue as fast as he could (it's a belief, at no point i'm saying this is the truth of course).

however, i do not agree with him being neglectful towards his own project, towards his own admins, towards the qsmp community, i do not agree with him being radio silent towards his employees/volunteers, not thanking them once they left, not communicating anything to them about their own future, i do not agree with him either being blind to their loudly expressed needs or purposely ignoring them, i do not agree with him telling everyone "stuff takes time" but also allowing new events to happen on the server, and i'm extremely disappointed in this whole situation, because it divides more than ever a community and a project that i, among a lot of other people, cherish since a year now, when simple mesures such as COMMUNICATION were ignored.

frankly i think that most of the people would have better understood and been patient if Quackity's Studios didn't keep on announcing new events like nothing was happening

the reason i'm not talking too much about the financial issue is that : 1. I believe finding a way to pay admins that are still in the qsmp is a priority to Quackity nowadays, along with firing those who mistreated the employees/volunteers ; 2. I believe they will find a solution regarding the incomes (merch actually being a means to pay the admins is one of them)

i'm writing this during qsmp awards, i know a lot of ccs will be there. i'm a little hurt and disappointed but at the same time, i know some of them have a personal relation to Quackity that we as viewers don't have, they have their reasons to trust Quackity, i just don't agree with them, but please, no hate towards them or to people who'll watch the future events

it's a goodbye even though no one knows me lmao (i spent hours and hours watching, filling the vods of timestamps, translating youtube clips, even drawing again since a long time, i filled in the qsmp fandoms, did presentation docs and put hours into spreadsheets of the ccs statistics), but know that being a part of this community was a life experience for me, in so many ways, i'm forever thankful for the people who made this project possible, i'll miss sharing my hyperfixation with you all

🎨 also, I saved a bunch of qsmp fanarts that I didn't want to rb because I didn't want to support in any way what was happening, i didn't want to make people feel like watching the streams was ok, instead, I wanted to let the most room for any info about the admins' situation

i realize now that it wasn't fair, their art comes from a place of love, and whatever their reason was to continue watching qsmp despite all that was happening is not my business. They did art, and good art, so i'll reblog the last qsmp fanarts and probably will continue to share some from time to time

🩵 big big thanks to the artists and the ccs for creating such an amazing universe, i hope you'll keep the spirit and maybe leave with good friends, and obviously i'm so proud of all the eggies (by that I mean their admins), who have spoken up and left a project despite their obvious love for it, thanks to Lea for starting all this, freeing admins from an unbearable situation they might have not even recognized as so at the time

i don't know if i'll be back, for now i need to step back, but if i see one day that the situation got all fixed and safe and that actual apologies were made, then maybe i'll come back to this unique qsmp (it'll certainly feel changed tho)

[xceanlynx]

I'm getting really tired of the discourse that Ray's friends aren't responsible for their friend's actions and shouldn't have to take accountability.

I don't disagree with it. I actually pretty much agree 100%.

The thing is, you can't just pretend his illnesses (alcoholism and depression/suicidal tendencies) don't exist. You can't choose the good side of the friendship while ignoring someone's health and well being, being a fair-weather friend. If you can't put up with someone as ill as Ray (which is completely fair), DON'T BE FRIENDS WITH THEM.

Mew, Boston and Cheum do not have ANY obligation to take care of Ray and prevent him from doing shitty stuff. But FRIENDS don't just do what's obliged to them — people do stuff outside their obligation for the ones they love all the time. Of course taking care of someone like Ray isn't easy. He is an agressive, rage inducing and reckless person, a true criminal as well. So please, if you can't deal with it (again, TOTALLY FAIR! No one is expecting you sacrifice your entire life and well being for another), just end your friendship. Don't ignore all of that for the sake of the "benefits" you get from being friends.

Also, let's not forget how much of enablers they all are. Inviting him to bars basically every week? It's like inviting your severely lactose intolerant friend to a tour at the Milk, Cheese and Yogurt Factory. Mew is even worse, giving his drinks to Ray while also saying "I can't stop you anyway". No shit you can't. But you could at least not give him your shots, right?

And lastly, I cannot comprehend how huge Cheum's cognitive dissonance is. Why is it worth "saving Mew from Ray", but not saving Ray from himself? Why when Ray does drugs, it's Ray being an asshole, but when Mew does it (of his own volition), he is the damsel in distress? (and resorting to teaming up with Top!!!) Why one life is worth more than the other?

Like April said, Mew is a grown man. All scenes we've seen, he is the one asking for alcohol and cigarettes. He did drugs because he wanted to. It was MEW'S IDEA too. Let's not put all the blame on your mentally ill friend. Both of them are in the wrong here, Ray is being an enabler same as all of them, but let's not be hypocritical and forget Mew has agency just as Ray does (maybe even more since we know Ray is ill).

So let's stop pretending Boston, Mew and Cheum did nothing wrong/did their best. They absolutely did not.

And I do understand. I had and still have people around me suffering with addiction and being SHIT to everyone around them. But at one point we've got to make a choice: either you help them or you leave them. It's tougher than it sounds, but newsflash: that is life, and life is hard.

[scleracentipede]

I don't know much about DID, so this is very interesting for me to learn about!

Question: is Batman aware of Jon's DID? If so, is he able to recognize the alters and switches, and does he interact with each of them differently?

I’m glad my silly little au is proving educational 🥰 if you ever have any DID related question you can always dm us we’re always happy to help people learn more

So: Is Batman aware of Scarecrows DID?

Yes absolutely - he already knew about DID/OSDD from being friends with Harvey and Co. (who I hc as being an OSDD system and knowing before becoming a villain) before he meet Scarecrow (well meet him properly, they’d crossed paths before either had donned their masks) so already knew a lot more then most and is a true ally to the DID/OSDD community.

Our Bat is much more of a caring figure I suppose who makes an effort to know what health things his Rogues has going on not to use against them but so he can avoid hurting them too much (e.g., he’d never kick Jon’s bad leg in a fight) so he knows about their DID.

The real question is does Batman know about his own plurality 👀

Can he recognise whose fronting and does he interact with them all differently? (Going out a read more so this isn’t too long for those who are just scrolling by)

Can he recognise them all?

Sometimes - there are little clues and habits they all have that he usually to differentiate them all (eg. If there’s singing he knows it’s going to be The Hessian and that he will likely get a little kiss) but he doesn’t get to spend as much time with them all as say Edward (whose the best at telling, as he likes to boast) so doesn’t always know for sure or immediately.

How he interacts with Hessian:

- Like I said he’s likely to get a kiss from Hessian along with a “We’re not so different you and I” speech

- Hessian is the most difficult for him to fight in some ways: more reckless, masochist so enjoys getting hit back, most likely to bite, hard to focus on fighting when someone moans when you hit them etc.

- But equally Hessian is easiest to get monologuing and to distract (not as single minded as Jonathan)

- He still tries to pull his punches despite Hessians ferocity as he knows it’s still just sick and scared really

- He has sympathy for them all but Hessian’s speech’s hurt his heart because he can see the pain behind them

- He has truly feared that he would die when fighting Hessian before

How he interacts with Jonathan:

- Opposite to last Hessian point: he has truly feared that he would kill Jonathan before

-Jonathan is painfully excellent at pushing his buttons and getting under his skin with surgical precision

-He truly cares for him and wants to help all the same

-He sees Jonathan’s obsession with fear and power like an addiction and he’s not wrong

- When not fighting (basically when he isn’t between Jonathan and his goal) he finds Jonathan very pleasant and interesting to talk.

-The conflict between him and Jonathan is completely impersonal to Jonathan despite how precisely he hurts Bruce, it’s all just work for Jonathan

-This drives Bruce mad and intrigues him at the same time: after all is he any different to Jon in his pursuit of his own goal?

- He seems himself in them all but especially Jonathan. In another he could be the same if he didn’t have the family he feels so lucky to have

- He thinks in another life they could have been good friends and maybe even worked to do good for the world (whatever that actually means)

- They are mirrors essentially- Narcissus and his reflection in the lake

- He worries that Jonathan single minded focus will kill them all

How he interacts with Raven

- She is the one in their system he can bargain with

-If he needs their help with something he’ll usually try to appeal to her if he can

-She claims to not hold any stakes in his “childish games” with the others

-Other than that shes very cold towards him

- They rarely interact outside of this

How does he interact with Keeny

- Keeny makes him so very sad

- Once again mirrors and all: sees his own hurt inner child pain, sees his own children’s pain, the Scarecrow system and other the Rogues’ childhood pain reflect in that sad little.

- He’s held Keeny through panic attacks and flashbacks many a time when a hit during a fight has landed just wrong or a fear toxin canister has burst bought him to the front

- All the Batfamily GCPD and the Rogues know when Keeny fronts all fighting is to stop when Batman is around

-Really activates his paternal instincts

-He’ll never raise a hand or let a hand be raised to Keeny (they are just a child after all)

- He just wants her to be okay

[bewitched-bullet]

Thanks for replying to my ask, I rather stay on anon just in case.

I still disagree with you. I don't see it as switching beliefs, they just didn't take part in the toxicity anymore and removed the discussion from their blog which is meant for entertainment. I also noticed you guys reblogged Mycroft's posts even though you wanted it gone? You guys contradict yourself constantly. Why? And how can you keep believing what you're believing if you don't go and see for yourself who they are on their blog? Did you even follow them yourself? I''m talking about john specifically because he's the one I interacted with the most. I'm sure you have ways to do so. You also say you didn't talk to them personally, which makes me even more sad and a bit angry. Sorry. We (four of us anyways, didn't talk to anyone else personally yet) feel you were (are) harassing him, not the other way around. You are bullying him, can't you not see that? You claim to talk about all the abusive techniques he's using, but you're actually doing it all yourself. We don't know how to make this clear to you and my guess is we never will. And no, I didn't mean we should bombard you with messages to harass you, but just so you know there are actually more of us who think this way.

But I get it, you stick to your beliefs just because it's hard to switch. I just feel very sad when I read everything you guys say.

For sure, I don't mind anon asks. I keep anon asks on so folks, like you, can feel safe in expressing themselves. However, if they get to the point that they are just nasty, it's within my rights to delete those. I answer these out of my own benevolence because this is my space and I choose what I do with it. My pinned thread isn't just for show.

Because I have already answered these questions, concerns, and gave directions to the wealth of information under the tag "a scandal in tumblr", I see no need to reiterate myself. It's redundant.

Again, if you read and comprehend all of my posts (including ones outside of the scandal tag) you'll see whether or not I have followed the rplayers and interacted with them.

And here at the end of your ask, we see what is called a backtrack and reversal. ( If you wanna know more about this technique/tactic, Google is your friend.) Specifically, taking what you firmly stated before and changing the meaning of actual words then taking what I said, ever-so-slightly twisting it, and rephrasing to suit your needs/wants.

Facts are facts.

🥨

If anyone wants to see the post we are referencing, it will be under the tag "a scandal in tumblr" and on today's date, March 12th

[eth3r34l]

It was quiet. Too quiet. Unusual for this home —or rather house— it has never felt like home. Not to her. Then again, she barely remembered what home feels like. She forgot the meaning of it long time ago. But it didn’t matter anymore. This was her life. Was it the life she always wanted? Far from it. Yet, it was the one she had. Would she change how things are? Would love to. However, that wasn’t a possibility. Not now.

A sigh coming from her as she took off her wedding ring, placing it aside on the kitchen counter. Watching as the sink got filled up with water, her mind wandering back to simpler times. Times that were long gone. Just like the cheerful girl with long white hair and a spark in her eyes. She was gone. Perhaps could be considered dead. Replaced by this empty shell of a woman with black hair that she dyed every time the roots began to come in.

She shook her head, trying to get back into reality as she stopped the water. Her hands sliding into it as the dishes clinked against each other, pulling out one of the dirty plates to wash it.

The sound of the front door opening and closing again echoed through the dim lit room, making her tense up. Despite that, she tried to act casual, placing the clean plate on the drying rack. Not turning around as she felt a presence approach her.

“I told you, you don’t have to do this,” a voice said from behind, “We have a dish washer.”

“It’s faster this way,” she replied softly, not even turning her head to look behind her.

There was no reply, just two hands sliding around her waist from behind. Her breath catching in her throat as they made her turn around, now face to face with him as her wet hands stayed in the air.

“I don’t want these beautiful hands of yours,” he spoke to her, taking her hand in his. Grabbing a towel to dry it before placing a kiss on top of it, “Get ruined by that nasty dish water,” he finished his sentence.

Her head turned away from him as he spoke to her, not looking him in his eyes. Feeling him take a hold of her other hand as well, his grip tightening.

“Where’s your ring?” his voice firm as the energy around him shifted completely.

“I took it off—” her answer making him tighten his grip on her wrist further, making her flinch slightly. “Because of the dishes,” she blurted out, “Didn’t want to ruin it—”

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Making her close her eyes as her eyebrows furrowed. There was a hint of hesitation as she turned her head slowly to look at him like he asked. Or rather demanded. Her purple eyes meeting his for the first time since he got home.

“Never,” he said, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing, “Take it off.” His voice far from gentle as he grabbed the ring from the counter and slid it back on her finger, “Understood?”

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the ground.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he said as he pulled her closer, making her stumble.

“Yes,” she said softly, her body pressing against his as he held her by the wrists.

Read more on Wattpad

Read more on AO3

[hussyknee]

I'm kind of in awe of people whose second language is English but write as well or better than me.

I mean I'm bilingual, but like most South Asians raised urban upper(ish) middle class, English is my first language and my mother tongue my second. I've had a complex at how much easier and more fluent I am in English compared to Sinhalese (especially written Sinhalese, which is stupid formal) since I was a child. Which is ironic, because I could barely speak in English until I was six, and got harrassed for that until then. This is why I hate it when white Anglo people think English is less mine than theirs. I lost my mother tongue to assimilate into this language and I'm still treated like an outsider.

So I'm in awe when people have a different first language but are just as fluent and expert in English. Some of these writers are also as good in a third. Right now I'm reading a beautifully written fanfic from someone whose first language is Spanish. It blows my mind honestly. To me, those are the people who actually deserve to say they have "language skills". Feel like an imposter when I say it, or other people say I do. I have English skills. It's not the same.

Idk being bullied by my fundie nationalist teachers and classmates for being a hyperverbal bookworm exclusively in English has fucked up my relationship with my one real skill, probably for the rest of my life. The only thing I feel really good about is that I was the one who taught myself English. My baby self got so sick of being talked down to and confused by my teachers that I found a Famous Five book, slogged through it on my own, and loved it so much I struggled through as many as I could find. I was writing in English essay competitions by the following year.

But the easier it got to handle English, the more difficult Sinhalese became, and I was soon being shamed for the opposite reason. My ADHD wouldn't let me replicate the same success with Sinhalese. I thought of myself as a lazy arse who "never applied herself" until I realized I had ADHD a few years ago. Dunno if I can let go of that perception of myself any time soon, and feel proud of what comes easy to me without qualifiers.

Language alienation is real, y'all.

[0alix0]

Aivela's curse (1/?)

link to AO3

parings: Arcann/Outlander (Female Jedi Consular)

warnings: Hanahaki AU (and every gruesome detalization that comes with it), enemies to friends to lovers (?)

It all started when she had escaped.

When the murderer of their former "immortal" emperor, the so-called outlander, is brazenly dragged out of the carbonite cell hidden in the bowels of the Spire. And then again right under his nose.

Chasing the stricken ship, he, together with Vaylin, ends up in the eternal swamps. Exactly where the Outlander fled off Zakuul. Even before completely landing on the surface, he is engulfed with uneasy feeling of déjà vu, and a terrifyingly familiar echo of the Force that beats in his head. It feels like a stain in the middle of the universe, like a black hole, pulling all living things into itself, and twisting them. An all too familiar feeling. And it is as if it's still here, just reach out.

The shuttle doors open and Arcann finally sees the ruined battlefield for himself. If it can still be called one. Crushed ground, with trees broken as if from a hurricane, and dozens of his skytroopers and knights trampled under layers of debris. Wrinkles appeared on his forehead, he clenched his metal hand till a creak came out of it. All, all because one single wave of jedi's hand.

It couldn't have been her power.

He touched his forehead as he reminisced about that day in the throne room. About the strange data from the crashed Sith ship, about the dispute between that jedi Outlander and his father, as if they knew each other, and about how the energy, torn from Valkorion after the fatal blow, rushed to the unconscious jedi like to a beacon enveloping her with it. He almost pitied her. Almost.

He did not waste the time of father's absence in vain. A crowd of outraged citizens, knights, even some scions, all wanted justice for the murder of their beloved emperor. Some wanted revenge. And Arcann wanted an explanations.

And already in a few days, the knights were already storming some of the distant bases of the Sith Empire. Cut their communicators, destroyed any holorecords of their presence, so that no one even knew who attacked them... they also collected data. About imperial hierarchicy, ancient Sith worlds, Dromund Cass, the destruction of Ziost. And about their missing sith emperor.

One of today's intruders can be almost certainly identified as a Sith, and it couldn't be just another coincidence. If this was truly someone who had come back here to set free the "reborn Emperor", if Valkorion had planned it... and Arcann knew he did, his father had always planned something he never spoke of to anyone... that Jedi is nothing but a meat puppet now, she's not a random soldier brought here by circumstance, it became obvious as soon as father suggested her place at his side, she's not a victim. She is a threat, just like Valkorion. To Zakuul. To him, to the only remnant of his family.

For your own damn good jedi, just sit in your fucking fridge.

"Your Highness," the senior lieutenant distracted him. "Permission to begin search..."

"Immediately!"

The squad of knights who arrived with him immediately began to clean off the debris, search for any remains or clues that could help them to define the intruders. Meanwhile the medical team resuscitates found knights who were injured by that force wave.

All around was gray and cold, completely opposite to how Arcann remembered. A zap of pain passes through the left arm, forcing him to grab onto the elbow, as if there was something to grab onto. Whether because of a sudden change in atmospheric pressure or a flash of memory, he could not tell. The rain drenches them all from head to toe, but, what is more important, the traces will soon be completely washed off the ground

"Izax damn them all." he grumbled to himself, clearing his throat. He wanted to leave... for practicality of course. He's hardly useful sick, and yet... something prevented him from leaving. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the only thought that literally haunted him to leave spire, uncertainty or denial, something ghostly, maybe even sentimental... He didn't know how exactly he would know that Senya was truly there. Whether he simply overthought her presence on Gravestone then, in the throne room or... Not. Perhaps he hoped these feelings and her presence would waver away from his mind as soon as he'd arrived here. It didn't happen. Thoughts were fighting with one another and bright him no relief. It wasn't her. Yet someone had to tell the sith about the prison. It couldn't be her, she knew better than following the old bastard... But could it be that she follows the jedi?

Something in his chest feels squeezed  and for some reason it becomes difficult for him to take a breath. He feels a stinging bitterness on tongue. If it was her. And if she really is here... There! Side by side with some... outlander she never even met?

A dry and almost silent cough escaped his throat. No, that's enough of this nonsense.

He turned to Vaylin, she was standing a dozen steps away from him. Motionless, like a statue, she looked somewhere far away. He slightly touched her shoulder.

"There is no point in standing here for hours. You will only catch cold. Even if they left something here, it will most likely not..."

She. Was. Here. She helped that jedi escape. She helped him escape. Arcann tries to make a deep breath to calm himself but gets interrupted by another bout of quiet coughing.

Vaylin turns to him, eyes down, lips pressed, and reaches up her hand. A tiny block of wood rests on a thin palm. It's shaped like little Mawvorr's head... and looks exactly like the one some of them actually made for Senya decades ago.

He takes a carved figurine. Metal fingers brush over age-damaged surface, and anger starts to flare in his chest.  

"She lost it when we were little. Let's go home." his voice seems even more mechanical, hoarse, even considering the mask. Arcann returned her the figurine, pulled the cloak from his shoulders and silently threw it over Vaylin. She stood without movement, looking into small carved dots-eyes. Mawvorr slowly levitated from her palms and hanged in the air for a brief moment. A quick spark. Lightning discharges from both of her hands. The figurine burns within a few seconds, but it feels as if the deformation of small pointy face and the sizzle of the cracking wood and vaporized rain drops lasted just long enough to stuck in his head for next few days. Perhaps it's easier for her this was. Perhaps for him as well. Arcann claps her on the shoulder "Come on."

He takes his sister away from the swamps, from the thoughts that maybe their father is still alive, and even more so, that he is capable to return, that their mother didn't even thought twice before helping him... her.

In the recesses of his mind, he hopes that even if Valkorion's favorite was just unfortunately got caught in a crossfire of their mutual despise, it would be better if she just died without ever coming back.

When they return to the shuttle, his clothes are already sticking to his skin with the disgusting cold, and something begins to painfully itch somewhere in the depths of his throat. He mindlessly brushes it off as a hypothermia.

And only before bed he notices a tiny red stain in a corner of his lips and a metallic taste in mouth.

Petunia. Resentment and anger.

[paskuda-lynx]

Now, that was a problem.

"The long-forgotten roof balcony somewhere at the quietest part of the castle was the perfect place to spend some time without prying eyes. The perfect place for, say, covered rebellion meet up. But there's the nuance. It would be the perfect place, if the Titan-damned emperor's nephew didn't came to exactly the same idea about it miraculosly at the same date as them. As if he's actually suspecting something and is trying to oversee treason. But that's probably too much credit for him. He's hardly the improvising type, that obedient little prince. Still, the balcony was occupied, and maybe there were spying bugs (and possibly the snarkiest of the castle's vivarium) being planted right now, so Head Witch Darius decided to work proactively and outspy the emperor's spy first by sending through the closed doors the tiniest abomination he could manage without losing direct control over it's sight and motions. ...the Golden Guard was standing by the balcony rim and staring in the evening sky. Otherwhise than that he was doing absolutely nothing. Not that was enough for dropping vigilanse, though, even if it seemed that no spying bugs ot spells were planted yet. And indeed, a few minutes later he finally turned away from the rim. Only to sit down cross-legged on the cobbled floor, the artificial staff being placed at hand nearby. The cobbled floor in question was very dusty. Gross. Meanwhile the Guard took of his helmet, and that was slightly more gross, because the face underneath was unmistakebly beaten up. The right cheek was swollen, with black eye as the icing of the cake. Alright, it's not like he was concerned or anything, but Darius still thought that the injury was intriguing, due to it location and size. One could guess that it came somewhere from endless scout training (and any witch or demon knows that scout training sessions in the Emperor's coven are not mild at all), but even while punching your opponent in the face is not something new, it's considered weird - kind of unprofessional - to strike straight in the eye. Even then, how do you exactly punch a scout in the eye when they are masked? The mask issue remains with conjecture that the bruise was gifted from some criminal on the mission, too. So, the funny conclusion - had the Golden Guard, while unhelmeted, no less, irked someone in the castle to the state of fist-shaking rage and finally faced the consequences of his own arrogance? The beaten up in question wasn't giving any hints about personality of the one who did it, though. He just gingerly touched his cheek, and then suddenly pulled off one of his gloves and turned it inside out while reaching with the other hand for his staff. "I wonder if this counts as excessive use of magic." And here was the irony: "Well, no one will see that anyways, so..."

The Guard tightened the hand on the staff in concentration while it glowed in red, and soon it conjured small cubes of ice in the glove. As always with artificial magic, without a spell circle, or any circling motion at all.

It was honestly weird to watch. Were there any restrictions on the amount of spent spells in this thing? Probably, if there was an implication of "excessive use of magic".

…Actually this information could be quite in handy if the rebels would clash with the Emperor's right hand someday. Hopefully not. But still. Maybe this whole spying thing had a point after all, because before this moment all what Darius had got was some skygasing and then a weird black eye on weared-out teenage face, which wasn't a lot. Although he must admit, he was intrigued. This was very much not his mentor, the predecessor certainly outgamed the descendant, but it was interesting to watch the youngster in his normal behavior without the bratty antics and formal etiquet - a rare sight indeed. Besides, it wasn't difficult to keep control on one small abomination while attending the paperwork in his private quarters, so it's not like he's wasting a lot of energy.

The iced glove was pressed on the bruise for a few minutes, and, when it was probably too cold to keep, was put into crook of the shoulder inside the white cape. The Guard layed his cheekbone on top of it with an almost blissfull expression. Huh. The swelling must be pretty painfull, if such reaction. The probably dirty glove on the face was still a disgusting sight, but at least it was turned inside out, so Darius must give him at least that, if not the credit for creativity about the whole makeshifted compress thing."

[unproduciblesmackdown]

ppl will be explaining how a difference is a difference & not a Deviation from a Superior state, & people who are the ones considered Default Normal (superior) will be like "okay....to be polite....i Might say i consider Some aspects of Some people's existence mere 'difference' & not being less than me...." as like hey i'm a Benevolent god. i still actually get to consider you worse & don't have to "humor" anything that challenges my superiority. if you only want everything to fit into the norm then it will all come back to upholding the norm. thinking of people's analysis of their own realities as equally legimate as being like Obscure, Irrelevant, Superficial & then using that reasoning to justify dismissing them. same as worrying that the [Different Lessers (Others(tm))] as Everywhere = a manifestation of the awareness that, yeah, respecting them as equals Does threaten your norm which is smothering everything everywhere. ppl who need to lock in the idea of Borders around personhood like um Yes they're all delineated separate Identities outside any hierarchy & so i think it's relevant to for some reason push back against "ohh so now Everyone's queer" like why not. why couldn't they be. what if they were. what if queerness was everywhere b/c it's ideological not a cordoned off Alternative Identity that is accommodated by focusing on Love(tm) as the new border around whose existence we might begrudgingly accept at arm's length (i.e. being otherwise "normal"! just imagine swapping out the binary gender (or, deep breath, presumed Private Parts) of one partner in an exclusive romantic lifelong nuclear family marriage, & that is Gay / Trans Rights. still gross but maybe we can do it, as long as they don't talk about it or shove it in our faces or even exist for more than one encounter w/us in our lives b/c what are the odds). evergreen laughing at someone suggesting ableist logic might be embedded in language of past & present b/c it's just So little to ask for that it's irrelevant but it's also So much to ask for that of course i'm not gonna do anything more than pass it along like "this is why i don't take ableism seriously" like yeah it's the disabled randos like it's the individual cringe teens(tm) ruining [the cishets would take Gender seriously otherwise!!!] & that's why you won't think about it or do anything about it & continue being comfortable with the norm & resent that actually their Difference is Less & disability is something worse that ppl "excuse" & all these ways that people are & all these things that they do are funny & weird & inexplicable & etc & one can't possibly be cruising along perpetuating a hierarchy with a sense that you're reasonable, well meaning, kind, etc etc & thus Justified, systemic oppression definitely wants to maximize how uncomfortable & arduous it feels to everyone rather than push to make it more streamlined & rewarding to embrace, or at least accept, whatever superiority over others you're afforded

[todayisafridaynight]

YEAH........... YEAH..... LIKEWISE, NO NOTES AT ALL, THAT'S EXACTLY IT... Main antagonist deaths are often treated as "comeuppance," but that would be the ultimate comeuppance for Aoki. As it stands, the only people who actually suffer for it are Ichiban and Jo, and Ichi didn't even do anything wrong. Also please I'm positive there's more to wring out of Aoki and Jo for an essay 😭😭at the very least, I always love to hear your perspective!

"he'd made a social circle for himself where people predominantly liked him for the power and influence" <- incredibly Mine-core of Aoki btw (I also feel the rest applies a little in terms of Mine probably being very quick to write off people who Do care about him as not caring about him, as with Katase, but it's nowhere near the extent of the Arakawas)

Wait actually it's kind of funny... for both Mine and Aoki, I was so sure their endings would go a certain way. Mine and Kiryu'd fight Richardson off together and Ichi'd, I don't know, shield Aoki or hug him so Kume couldn't get to him in the first place, or after that INSANE direct parallel to Arakawa running to the hospital with Masato, he'd miraculously pull through like he did on New Year's. Tormented with visions of the better timeline... With Aoki in particular, it makes me want to tear my hair out because the moment of him choosing to put the gun in the locker was REVOLUTIONARY for the series, looking at the characters he was most heavily based on.

Anyway. Bottom line. These bitches need to hug it out. It was so evil Arakawa didn't hug Ichi at Omi HQ or on the waterfront like bro stop being """manly""" for five seconds you're ruining my life you're ruining your own lives

There'd genuinely be nothing more painful yet more satisfying for an antagonist than being confronted with the consequences of their actions and having to navigate life after having making those decisions, ESPECIALLY when it comes to mending the bonds that- for anyone else- would have shattered long ago. With Aoki being motivated by the want to be loved and appreciated for himself, it would've been nice to see him finally acknowledge that he did have that love and start to better himself as a result (however much he'd be able to while in prison anyway lmao).

The Mine and Aoki comparisons are so real though, I remember joking to myself about it days after beating the game but it just fuels my mental illness every time I think about it ☠️ I LEGALLY AM NOT ALLOWED TO GO OFF ABOUT THE Y7 ENDING I'VE DONE IT TOO MUCH it makes me so mad every time I think about it 😭 ESPECIALLY THE PARALLELS WITH ARAKAWA AND THE LOCKERS UGGGHHH IT COULD HAVE BEEN SUCH AN EPIC CONCLUSION WITH THAT... Arakawa running from the lockers at the start of Aoki's life compared to Ichiban running from the lockers and getting Aoki to the hospital so Aoki can restart life I'm Going To Kill Someone (myself) (in Minecraft)