#but he refrained

[krittec]

there’s something extremely extremely creepy about taking an actor that you have known since they were 13 years old, only JUST a teenager, and making them kiss a fully grown woman the second that they turned a legal adult.

Steve Blackman already has a ton of shit out against him which came out recently so it unfortunately doesn’t surprise me that he would write something like this but it makes me genuinely concerned for everything behind the scenes.

There has been a HUGE problem in the Umbrella Academy fandom since season ONE when Aidan was a 13-14 year old of people writing insanely disgusting stuff and defending it because his character was mentally an adult but oh my god did they make it worse. You’d think they’d protect actor & character by avoiding any romantic interaction but instead you have him kiss an actress 15 years older than him. The age gap being the age that he was when they filmed season two. Quite honestly I feel that if he could’ve done this seasons previously and gotten away with it then he definitely would’ve done it, given the jokes that are actively made.

Quite honestly may Steve Blackman never work again if this is how he treats his actors because this is awful. I’m not even done with the season but that gave me very little desire to continue and this show has been important to me in ways I can’t explain. Maybe I am blowing this out of proportion but it feels so insanely creepy and horrific to me and I needed to rant.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Never gonna live that down.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[starry-bi-sky]

Who is the more well-adjusted twin; Damian, or Danyal? Why, it's Damian, of course!

And I have an explanation for this! But first I wanna preface this that this is just me like, rambling about this thought I have and it's not an attack on the trope as a whole. I love the Danyal Al Ghul au which is why i'm so deeply passionate about it, because I think it has a lot of potential to be explored. It's no secret that I've mentioned before that I think Danny's psychological development tends to get overlooked and underutilized in DAG aus, and the impact that growing up in an assassin league often goes ignored. This is just me further expanding on that.

Now lets set the stage! This is specifically for Danny who is adopted by the Fentons later down in life. Lets go twin au. At 10 years old, Damian goes to the Wayne Family, Danny is adopted by the Fentons (regardless of their affiliation with the League). By 14 years old, who ends up the better adjusted, more socially aware, spiritually in-tune with themselves, sibling? Why, Damian is! Why is that?

Because he has the actual support he needs compared to Danny. And I'm not talking about good or bad parents Fentons, because either way my opinion doesn't change. Damian would end up the better off twin, because, frankly, his family knows his background. They know he grew up in the League, they know what the League's teachings are, and they know he's a born and raised assassin. Knowing this, they can then help tackle and dismantle the teachings and lessons he has been given and ingrained into by the League. They may be a dysfunctional family, but they're functional enough to at least actively help deprogram all of the League's teachings that have been ingrained in Damian throughout his childhood.

Can't say the same for Danny.

Lets say Fentons here don't know his background -- and even if they do, the results may just stay the same if they play their cards wrong, -- Danny's now just been thrown into the deep end of a pool and is essentially being told sink or swim. Regardless of how he got there -- undercover, faked death, etc -- he has no proper support. He knows the League is meant to be secret, he's not gonna speak on it for various reasons. Whether it be some still lingering loyalty, fear of harm, or whatever. Whatever the reason is, he does not have a proper support system in the Fentons, no matter how nice they are. They can only tackle the surface level stuff and whatever Danny allows them to see -- if Danny ever lets them see it at all. For what do assassins do when they don't want to be caught? They hide. Sometimes in plain sight.

"But Jazz--" Jazz is a child. She is 2 years older than Danyal and no better at giving him a proper support system than the two adult Fenton parents, even with parentification. We don't know when she got into psychology or how long she'd been studying it by the time Danny's 14. We just know she's really into it. Even then, Jazz is not a licensed or reliable therapist, or even an experienced or implied good therapist, and should not be used as one either. It's a disservice to her character to reduce her down to 'supporting female emotional crutch'. Besides, therapy only works on people who want to get better. Danny, who'd be hiding who he really is, has very little incentive to want to, or to even think something is wrong with his way of thinking, even with exposure to the outside world.

When people's beliefs are outright challenged, they tend to double down on them, and Jazz canonically has a habit of psychoanalyzing her family and declaring what she thinks is the problem -- regardless of whether or not she's right about it. Jazz would get into psychology, try and psychoanalyze Danny, and all it would do is cause him to clam up, shut into himself further, and throw up even more walls so that she can't figure out that he has been lying this whole time. It would do more harm than good, and would actively hinder any progress he'd make in trying to open up to them. Roads and good intentions and all that.

That being said, I think Danny's development and dismantling of the League's teachings would be slower than Damian's. Much slower. Because he would be the one having to pick apart everything and figure out what is right, what is wrong, what he wants to keep, and what he wants to toss. Everything he unlearns would be stuff he has to unlearn himself. If he even gets to that point at all -- depending on his experiences, he very well could not change at all, or change very little. The League acts as a purge for humanity, meant to reign in their hubris and retain balance, they just also happen to be assassins for hire. Danny's time spent in Amity Park could as well strengthen his belief in their teachings just as much as it could weaken it, especially if it goes as canon and he gets bullied.

Regardless, being tossed to a civilian family as someone who is very much not a civilian, without any support, would be actively detrimental to Danny's overall mental health and development. Especially to strangers like the Fentons. Damian was closed off and standoffish even with blood family, and it took him time to open up to them -- Danny, with the Fentons, would be even more so. He doesn't know them, he doesn't trust them, he has no rhyme or reason to open up to them, and since the Fentons don't actually know him, they can't help him the way he needs. Once "Danny Fenton" is made, he has even less reason to open up. So long as Danyal allows it, they will only ever know Danny, and they'll never know Danyal.

TL:DR the Fentons aren't the better family option just because they're civilians, and actually that makes them the worser option between the two because they can't give Danny the proper support he needs. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.

[untolduttering]

Hunger

Summary: The Sunny finds itself delayed in it's journey to the next island, causing Sanji's supply of blood to dwindle. He refuses to feed off of any of the crew, but you're determined to do something about that.

Tags: vampire!Sanji, gender neutral reader, established relationship, self-harm, blood, blood consumption, self-inflicted starvation

Word Count: 2.8k

The crew was supposed to have reached the next island a week ago. By Nami’s direction, the next island was a week away from the one we had been on. It had meant that we could be frugal with our purchases, that our stocks weren’t as hearty as they could be. But a storm in the first week halted our progress for repairs, and now the ship was stuck in the doldrums. It was becoming a miserable time.

The ship did have its usual emergency stocks, something that Sanji made sure to keep fresh and hidden for this exact emergency. Everyone would be just fine, save for one. The food would last for at least another two weeks without a problem, and by Franky’s design, all the water from the sea could be made drinkable. Blood, however, was an entirely different case. It could only store so well for so long. For a vampire, drinking expired blood would have as dire consequences as transfusing to a human expired blood. He had to keep to a strict schedule when it came to its consumption, and there wasn’t too much wiggle room for rationing. There was also limited storage—there were so many things that a happy existence required—and with Sanji’s self-sacrificing tendencies, he opted for less blood so that the kitchen and Chopper’s office would have more room for more “important things”. It was a decision that irked you constantly, but it was his life source, therefore his rules, and Sanji was a stubborn man, one that was no stranger to hunger.

His supply had run out three days ago, and it was making a miserable time into an agonizing one. He refused to be anywhere near you, for he feared that he wouldn't have the strength to stop himself from drinking your blood. It was his number one rule, in bold and italics, that he would not drink from any of the crew. It was his affliction that only he would deal with, and he would not put any of his nakama into such a compromising situation. And your own scent was strongest to him, the sweetest and most tantalizing. It was something he could usually enjoy on a full belly, but as the hunger started to claw, it became his most wild desire. And that scared him more than anything. A loss of control, an indulgence taken too far, a slip in his morals, could mean the end of your life.

Sometimes you thought he was taking it too far, being his dramatic self when it came to his love for you, but you took his concerns seriously nonetheless. Well, you typically did. But this current self-inflicted flagellation and punishment was driving you up a wall. You hadn’t shared a bed in four days, and hadn’t even shared the same space in two. If you walked into a room, a guilty look crossed his face as he dashed out. He was impossible to corner, too, both because of his speed and his ability to come up with some task he just needed to do now, and so he had to leave you right now, he was sorry but he loved you so deeply. 

And you knew you should be giving him space. That he had set boundaries and that you should quit pushing them. But as you had assured him previously, again and again, him feeding off of you wouldn’t be a problem. It was something you wanted, actually. He knew better than anyone how gratifying it was to help someone, to serve them. You wanted to be a source of relief for him, in every aspect. He could take all he wanted from you and more, and you’d happily give it. Sanji was always doing everything you asked and everything you didn’t, and you just wanted to do the same. If he wanted to lavish you in his worship, you also wanted to be able to sit at his altar and serve him the same way. So, you had been pushing it a little. 

It wasn’t often that Sanji was low on blood, but on the off chance that it happened, or that his urges were stronger than usual, he’d ask you to cover up. Not that he was trying to control you, he assured. Nor that he disliked the way you dressed, he actually would prefer that you wore less. He rambled on for a bit, when he told you this, complimenting and apologizing, but any exposed skin was just too tempting for him to sink his teeth into, and it was best to take precautions. And so you did, because you would do anything he asked of you. 

But. 

He needed encouragement. Sanji shouldn’t have to suffer like this, and so you continued to dress in a way that elongated your neck and exposed your wrists and thighs. You had started this early on, knowing exactly how this time in the doldrums was going to go. And it was causing equal parts satisfaction and pain for Sanji. You relished the way eyes ravished you, but that enjoyment paled in comparison to the suffering it caused him. You could see the pain clear on his face, the way he had to constantly restrain himself, and it made you hate yourself a little. It was in an effort to make him break, to take what he needed from you. But he was just so strong, it was one of those things you deeply admired about him, and his restraint was as tough as steel. 

And it was on the morning of his second day of no blood that you had really crossed the line. 

You were sitting at the little counter that looked into the kitchen, and watched him as he cooked breakfast. He wasn’t looking all too bad, but he did seem strained, and kept glancing at all of your purposely exposed skin. You’d blown him a kiss, causing him to laugh and swoon and send one right back. 

“You’re beautiful,” you said. 

Per usual, he was quick to make it about you again. “Oh, mon cœur, it’s nothing compared to yours.” 

You smiled, soft and sweet, and he continued his cooking. It was peaceful, the kitchen empty except for you two. The quiet was interrupted by the sizzling from the pans on the stove and the chopping of vegetables. You watched his pretty hands cutting away, admiring the speed and skill of his knife work. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing off his forearms. A towel was draped over his shoulder, a cigarette dangled from his lips, and his bangs covered his face as he leaned over his work. It was one of your favorite sights, one you conjured up often, and it made your heart ache and fill with need. You hopped down, deftly swerved around the counter, and stopped right before him. He looked up, a question on his face and awaiting  your request. You brought your hands to his face and brushed back his bangs so you could see all of his face. You stared, your gaze getting lost in his features. You’d suggested before that he wear a headband, less for the practicality and more for your own pleasures, but he refused. It just wasn’t fair of him to hide such a pretty face.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to each swirl in his brows, and stopped on his mouth, letting it linger on and on. Sanji kissed right back, pressing a hand to your hip and bringing you closer. You darted your tongue into his mouth and dragged it across his teeth, making sure to lick his fangs and feel their points as you went. He pulled back, his eyes half lidded, and you realized his other hand had been gripping yours, rubbing his thumb into your palm. He brought it to his face and pressed his nose to your inner wrist, taking a deep inhale. He let out a shaky breath, and inhaled again. Sanji then kissed it, feather light, again and again. He pressed his lips harder and harder as he went, until it became open mouthed kisses. Small sounds were escaping his mouth, and when his tongue came out and dragged along your skin, clearly without his permission, he whined. Your mouth had fallen open, and you watched all starry eyed as he made out with your wrist. For a moment you felt a sharp point dig into your skin, and all of a sudden Sanji was on the other side of the kitchen, his face horror stricken. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry. I don't know what… I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

“No, no,” you said, shushing him. “It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” You started toward him, hands outstretched and desperate to hold him, comfort him. “I think you should, Sanji. You need to feed.” 

“Absolutely not.” He’d hardened his voice, the best he could when it came to you. 

You were in front of him again, hands rubbing his shoulders. “Sanji, I’m serious. You can’t be doing this to yourself.” You moved your hands to cradle his face, but he snapped his head away, clearly afraid to let himself anywhere near your wrists. Quickly, he grabbed your hips and turned you around, ushering you out. 

“I’m sorry, my love, and I do love you, so, so deeply. But I cannot trust myself around you, not until I’ve eaten,” he said.

“No, I know. I understand. But it’s okay, Sanji. I forgive you,” you replied, utterly crestfallen. 

As soon as you crossed the doorway, he said, “Breakfast will be ready soon. Make sure you come in with the rest, and not alone.” He kissed you once more on the mouth, unable to resist the urge but keeping it chaste, and then disappeared back into the kitchen. 

And that was that. Sanji had kept his promise, and was never alone with you, nor too near you at all. He was so clearly miserable because of his decisions. When you did see him, you saw the bags weighing heavy under his eyes, and the way the misery took the light out of his eyes. Your own chest constantly ached, and sleep wasn’t coming easy without his body in your arms. You’d be damned if you weren’t going to do something about it.

So now you stood in the kitchen, a wine glass under your dripping arm. You’d sliced a clean line in your wrist and were draining it so that Sanji could drink it. He’d be upset, but the blood was already out, and it’d be a waste not to drink it. Plus, putting it into a glass like this would limit his intake. He couldn’t overstep like he feared. You felt like this move to be a pretty perfect solution. Except it was taking forever. You squeezed the wound, trying to encourage the blood to come pouring out. It was a messy affair, and you felt guilt at each drop that missed and hit the counter. You knew that from wherever Sanji was, he could smell your blood, and was writhing from the need of it but refused to come for it. It was to your benefit that he wouldn’t come to stop you, but the longer it took, the worse you felt. You were prolonging his torture. You grabbed the knife you use—one of your own, as you’d never sully one of Sanji’s precious knives like that—and opened your wound farther. You hissed at the pain, but remembering that you were doing this for Sanji made it easier and all the more worth it. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for him. 

When the wine glass was half full, you stopped and wrapped your arm, hoping that it was a reasonable and satisfying amount. You snatched up the blood and rushed to give it to Sanji, determined. You swung the kitchen door open and scanned the ship. Zoro caught your eye first, and you made your way over to him. 

“Where’s Sanji?” you asked once you reached him. 

He gestured to the men’s quarters with a nod of his head, and a grunt from his mouth. At the sight in your hand, though, he paused. “Is that… blood?”

“Yes. Thank you, Zoro.” You beelined to the room. 

The door smacked the opposite wall as you slammed it open. It was just Sanji in the room, and he jumped from his curled position from the far corner. The gauntness of his face horrified you. His eyes were huge, immediately knowing what was in the wine glass. He knew it was yours, too, even without looking at your wrapped arm, because it was overwhelmingly your scent. 

“Y/n,” he said, voice deep and pained. 

You held it out farther for him to grab. “Drink.”

Sanji’s voice rose in pitch, almost near to tears, “I can’t–”

“Drink.” There was no room for his nonsense. 

He couldn’t fight it any longer, and the glass was snatched from your hand, faster than you could blink. Sanji downed the glass, moaning both in ecstasy and disappointment once it was empty. His pupils were blown wide, taking over almost all of the blue of his eyes. He dropped to his knees and crawled to you, gripping your arm once he was there and pressed the wound to his cheek. He was shaking his head as he did it, but he moaned out your name again. His need for you and his need to keep to his moral code were warring with each other, and it was clearly killing him. 

You dropped down to your knees as well, heart aching at the sight of him, and tugged the wrapping off. You pressed the wound closer to his mouth and cupped his other cheek. “It’s okay, baby. Go ahead.”Sanji’s eyebrows furrowed and his nose wrinkled. His fangs bit down into his red stained bottom lip and he whimpered. He shook his head once. You brought it closer to his mouth, letting a little of the blood smear onto his lips. “I trust you, Sanji. Please, I can’t stand to see you like this. Please.”

His resolve crumbled and his mouth latched on. He whined and whimpered, and a few tears escaped his tight shut eyes. You brushed your fingers across his face and ran them through his hair, trying to soothe him. “There you go, my baby,” you cooed. “Isn’t that nice? You’re always such a good boy, and you deserve such a good gift.” 

He moaned into your arm, and it slowly turned back into a whine. You could feel the guilt and shame rolling off of him. You kissed all over what you could access of his face, continuing to tell him all the ways he was a good boy and why he deserved to have a treat. His own thoughts were vile. The taste of your blood was almost sending him into a frenzy, he couldn’t believe that someone could taste so good. But of course you did. You were the brightness on his darkest days. The kindness you bestowed upon him by just letting yourself be near him was pure sweetness, so of course you tasted this divine. He couldn’t believe you were letting  a disgusting, wretched man such as himself take this nectar from you. But, oh, he could not stop. He did not deserve such a gift, but he was a selfish and starved man, and he’d take whatever you would willingly give, no matter how little, and cherish it deeply.

It was when you started to feel a little light headed that you encouraged him to stop. He pulled away, clearly wanting to keep going, but he had always been a strong man, and with a full stomach, was able to keep control.

“See?” you said. “That went well. You did so good, and don’t you feel so much better?”

He nodded his head and pressed it further into your hand that was still holding his cheek. He looked so sad, like a kicked puppy. Even his bottom lip was jutting out just a little in a pout. You couldn’t resist, and kissed him, not caring for the blood that was smeared all across his lower face. He kissed back, unable to not give you anything you wanted, and was grateful that you still wanted to kiss him after such a disgusting display. But all it did was make your heart grow all the fonder for him. After, he ducked his head and tucked it into the crook of your neck, and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re more than I could ever deserve, and I’m sorry–” 

“Ah,” you cut him off. “No apologies. There is nothing you should be apologizing for.” 

“But–”

“Nothing. I love you, and I was happy to do it. And I’m happy to do it again whenever you need.”

Sanji wasn’t all that convinced, but he nodded anyway, warmth filling him from your words. 

“Now,” you said, words soft again. “Will you hold me tonight?”

You felt his smile spread across your skin. “Of course, my love.” He kissed your neck. “Of course.” 

[mugentakeda]

not even harvards top scientists could understand the complexities of the azula-iroh beef lore that i made up in my head

(silly bonus under the cut)

[gojoest]

pregnancy freak satoru not letting you lift a finger let alone carry stuff, be it your purse even, bc you are with his child now and you are to sit back and let him take care of everything. the way he is so overprotective is very endearing really but gets a bit out of hand at some point when he offers to hand feed you during mealtimes so you don’t have to bother with the utensils. you want to teach him a lesson, hoping he’d read the room and stop treating you like you’re on your deathbed—you refuse to hold his cock, saying it’s too heavy. but instead you give him a boner and an ego boost. now he holds it for you whenever you suck him off….

[monarchamos]

do you guys think mori has to get the PM HQ's ceilings all laquered and polished bc of chuuya walking on the ceiling or do you guys think there's just a bunch of shoe marks on the ceilings

[cosmicdreamgrl]

feel some type of way about it ❤️‍🔥

[electric-plants]

cyno: delivery for you.

alhaitham: …this letter is from you

cyno: yes. i’d already written it by the time i realized i didn’t trust anyone else to bring it to you

alhaitham: you could just tell me what it says then since you’re already here

cyno: i can’t say it out loud in your office

alhaitham: ah. so it must be a fairly sensitive case—

alhaitham: cyno.

cyno: what?

alhaitham: this just says that you think i’m pretty

cyno: yes, because i do and - considering the nature of our current relationship - i thought i should let you know.

alhaitham: again— you could just tell me?

cyno, frowning: we’re at work, that would be unprofessional. though i suppose you’ve already breached the line by reading it out loud so please be more considerate next time :/

[willowser]

thinking of coming home to katsuki after a bad day and just. the weight of his presence is so strong yet so gentle and warm that you break down at the door and he’s all panicked because what the hell. just asked why you were so quiet and suddenly there’s sobs. would fuss over you the whole night. firm in taking care of you but his love is so gentle and tender. need him.

oh anon 🥺 my dearest 🥺 you've been holding it in all the way home bc you're so uncomfy !! and stressed !! and your clothes don't feel right on your skin and your head hurts and you feel anxious and irritated and and and 🥺 and when you get home, katsuki's there, earlier than you expected him to be—which also makes you upset, bc you wanted to have something ready for dinner by the time he got home 🥺

and he just kind of. glances up at you from his phone—some email he's writing; doing work while at home like always—and says a gruff, "hey," to which you don't respond 🥺 you just frown at him in the doorway, all crumpled 🥺 bc he's not supposed to be home yet !!!!

but 🥺 he's so soft in his sweatpants and hoodie and he looks relaxed 🥺 and you're finally home and—you are glad, really, that he's here too, so that you can change into sweatpants and sit on the couch with him and be relaxed and cozy 🥺

and he's just wrapped up in what he's doing, for the moment, so he asks you, "y'comin' in or what?" without looking up, and when you're still silent, he looks up to see your face drawn down and your mouth all open and you're covering your eyes bc they burn with all your tears.

and you're right he does panic LOL full on flips his phone out of his hands, socks sliding across the hardwood as he hurries over to you.

"oi, oi," he softens his voice, but there's a practiced urgency in it, a firmness in his grip when he pulls your hands from your face. "'s'wrong, huh?" and when you don't open your eyes, he gets close, enough to bump his forehead against yours gently. "oi, look at me,"

you weakly shake your head, and you're only able to imagine how awful your makeup has smeared. all your tears have made you instantly congested, and you almost don't even want to talk lest you get too snotty.

but katsuki doesn't budge, and so you breathe enough to say,

"i just had a bad day,"

and it's so pitiful LOL but once he realizes you're not hurt or in immediate danger, he just sighs and stands back up straight, before wrapping an arm around your neck and squishing you to his chest. he takes the bag off your shoulder and sets it on the ground and helps you out of your jacket, and then he makes you sit down on the couch and drink a big glass of water LOL

and he does take care of you 🥺 makes you dinner and doesn't let you argue with him about it, lets you cuddle up to him and stays off his phone as much as he can, leaves work at work, and then he gets in your bath without you even having to ask 🥹

HE'S A SOFTIE I ADORE HIM SO TY FOR GIVING US THIS IDEA 🥹🥹🥹

[sunburstsandmoonshadows]

this joke is just for me tbh

[triglycercule]

so there's been versions of horror that don't talk. versions of dust that don't say a word. but what about killer man. what if he didn't speak???

i need this man to do the most outrageous crazy and unhinged things while saying not a single word. i need killer sans to stand in corners and not say anything while observing other people (just like how some people depicts horror/dust,,,,) with the most expressionless face ever. the guy cannot feel i want his face to show that. he will murder he will steal he will bother every living being around him while not saying a goddamn thing. ACTUALLY i want his face not to move at ALL!!! this killer's face looks like the 😐 emoji but it has tears. idk maybe it's because if he opens his mouth he'll start leaking dt and he wont even be able to talk so its not worth it. or maybe a certain red eyed child or oily king ordered him never to speak unless they tell him to and now killer just doesn't speak. he doesn't even learn sign language or body language or does any physical cues (voluntarily) because that's considering "speaking". idk just ideas but i like the idea of the guy that does arguably the craziest shit to just. not speak. or have any sort of body language ever. he stands and walks like a robot only sort of personality that shines through is in fights. but even if killer doesn't talk and have any sort of physical presence people will still be able to tell what hes like based on his actions

anyways maybe i just need ALL of the mtt not to speak. yeah that seems cool. none of them speak they just silently beat each other up (killer is dead silent dust is violently signing and horror is making several indescribable noises. this is the most intense fight they will ever have)

[eldest-of-katts]

okay because people have shown up in my dms talking smack I'm going to make one blanket statement on the 1000 year loli chilchuck thing.

yes, there has been a problem with young girls being put in suggestive positions in anime with the "uhmmm she's actually a bajillion years old" excuse. yes, other characters don't treat chilchuck like an adult. yes, he is short with big eyes.

However, chilchuck consistently acts like a grown man. he- in both the manga and the anime- straight up just is an adult. He looks like an adult when he is any other race during the swaps in the manga. When the other characters get turned into half-foots they look similar to chilchuck. He is explicitly stated to have more dungeon and general life experience than laios, and he acts like it.

The 1000 year loli trope explicitly functions as an excuse to prey on people who are inexperienced and unable to advocate for themselves. Chilchuck is a parent, is a union organizer, has explicit boundaries that he enforces rigidly, and he is treated as an adult man by everyone who doesn't have a fantasy racism-focused character arc/issue.

I can see how if you haven't read the manga and seen that he has an established life that he later reveals (and haven't paid attention to him in the anime lol) you could get a mistaken impression about him. Marcielle does too in the source material! It's part of her character at the start of her arc that she has issues with longevity!

The thing that irks me a little about this interpretation is that it leans into the child-coded discourse that was prominent a while ago (she's short!!!!! but has boob???? ILLEGAL!!1!) and it does a disservice to the themes of infantilization as a policy maneuver hurting the working class.

I saw chilchuck and his labor advocacy for half-foots both as a metaphor for racism (obvious take ik) and for ageism.

The working gen z as a cohort are being infantilized and pushed out of job markets due to infantilization, similar to half-foots in the show. gen z is being maliciously portrayed as too young to vote, enter office, know themselves, know their rights, and take advantage of their resources. Simultaneously, child labor protections and protections against workplace abuse are being rolled back in the US. In Japan, young people are being worked to the bone for nothing and are becoming disenfranchised as a generation while simultaneously expected to be the labor faction that supports the postwar generations in their old age.

Chilchuck's being treated poorly I saw as a clever commentary on the ways infantilization allows for protections to be stripped away under the guise that "oh it's just a job for teenagers- they don't need more than minimum wage" or "let the kids rescue the economy! they're always complaining about that job market!" while simultaneously stripping away rights under the guise of protection- "We can't have that on the internet! think of the children!" "to protect these young people we must raise the age of medical consent for hormones/reproductive health decisions!"

Kui's work with this series spoke to me on many levels, and specifically, the infantilization issue touched me in a way that few other pieces of media have. The struggle to be taken seriously in a stem field as someone young, as someone female, and as someone who had a high-pitched voice to the point I did years of voice training to be taken seriously, chilchuck's character resonated. I (kinda) understand your instinct to think "SHORT! CHILD! RALLY THE MASSES AND KILL THE PEDOS!!1!" but in this case, it's misdirected- mostly because the author was trying to use this misdirection to prove something to you, the reader.

Kui consistently makes cutting commentary on modern issues, the show's take on food neutrality as its headliner, but also the author's takes on cultural issues and the environment (with a focus on our place in the food web as animals). I feel that reducing chilchuck's very conscious position as a tradesman and an activist discounted due to his apparent age down to "1000 year loli ewwww let's send this random tumblr user suicide bait" just displays a lack of critical analysis of the show and a level of disrespect towards Kui and the work as a whole.

TL:DR- stop sending me kys messages I'm fucking that old man

[graycious-tea]

When I tell you I am this close 🤏🏻 to dm-ing Lou to tell him we love and adore him and what he’s doing with Tommy because of all the hate that cutie patootie of a man is getting…

[yippieitsarvensart]

See, you're just wasted and thinking 'bout the past again

Darling you'll be okay <3

[sacrificialsheepskull]

You should smash your sheep skull on your head so it makes a cut in your head and rips your brain membrane. I’ve been daydreaming on different ways for you to die or at least leave and not be seen again.

-@dogskahara

that's not how anatomy works at all but get mad for all i care