#not to mention the funds required to even try

[ceytal]

the past 48 hours have been shit. it’s bad when i don’t even feel like continuing orv or playing anything that requires actual effort (meaning i’m auto-clicking cookie clicker while dissociating)

[octopus-punching-union]

I'm writing this up for the second time since Tumblr ate my post :( so this probably won't be as much detail this time around.

The darker side of Darkwick

There's been a lot of allusions to shady stuff and harsh punishments at Darkwick since the very beginning, and it was so satisfying to see it come together this chapter. Quick recap of what's happened so far—

Haku gives some omimous warnings about harsh punishments when MC is trying to run away. He mentions Articles 77 and 78 (which are more fully explained in the Hotarubi chapter) and that ghouls can be punished for taking any actions outside of their missions.

This is constantly backed up since the very beginning. MC not being allowed to go home even briefly. Permits are required to leave campus and it's not unusual for recreational permits to be denied. Even with a permit, you can't be out at night unless it's for a mission. Stopping to get a snack while on a mission is potentially grounds for punishment. Entire Houses get punished for the misbehavior of a few people, and a House can be blanket banned from leaving campus.

When MC returns after that escape attempt, Kaito is upset as he's just now realized that he could be punished as an accomplice. Up until this point, he's been sympathetic to MC wanting to go home.

Haku also reminds Rui of the dangers of deviating from the mission and it seems that Rui is subject to particular restriction and surveillance. He says that a punishment would be particularly bad if Rui was involved.

Haku makes an odd comment like "since there's a chance we'll go home after graduation." Combined with Ritsu's comment about the Laurel Crown being the best way to get independence from Darkwick... I have a lot of thoughts about this and will write up a separate post later.

Budgets are fucked up, with Haru personally responsible for funding repairs to Jabberwock. (I'm also gonna write a separate post about this later.)

On to the new stuff from Hotarubi chapter—

We learn that Darkwick has a secret prison which was run by Ultio, one of the defunct houses. Lyca is being held there due to prejudice about him being part werewolf. He was imprisoned while being investigated for murder, but despite the discovery that he is innocent, he is still locked up because he could potentially be dangerous.

Articles 77 and 78 are explained. They allow for the imprisonment of ghouls who deviate from their missions and anomalies that are deemed too dangerous to society. Lyca is being held as a dangerous anomaly because he is part werewolf.

Subaru's first mission at Darkwick was to kill Lyca. He apparently decided to investigate instead and attempt to prove Lyca's innocence. He has been petitioning for Lyca's release, to no effect.

(This makes me wonder if Subaru was always in Hotarubi? The facility was being run by Ultio at the time, and why would they bring in someone from another house to kill a prisoner? If the initial mission was investigation using Subaru's unique stigma, it would make sense to bring him in from outside. But Lyca says that he knew Subaru had been sent to kill him from their first meeting. Related, Subaru also says that he and Zenji have been in the same house since first year, but he does not say that they were always in Hotarubi.)

We also get confirmation that there were multiple fatalities during the Clash. Zenji, who was killed by a rogue anomaly and is now back as a ghost, wasn't the only one who went "past the point of no return."

Finally, when MC and Haku go to the Chancellor and Moby to ask for Lyca's release, they are both very against it. The Chancellor starts to say, "What if we have another case of a ghoul—" but is silenced by Moby. Moby also seems like he's kinda threatening Haku in this scene.

[indiefilmfatale]

long night? (cole x fem!reader)

gifs by 38across^ plot: you get the pleasure to watch cole play in one of molly's games, so he takes you to his room and shows you what he's made of content warnings: server/patron dynamic, dirty talk, doggy style, daddy kink, penetrative & unprotected sex, rough sex word count: 2.5k a/n: so i just watched molly's game and can't stop thinking about joe's lingering glances on all the sexy women so here we are smut below the cut!

You can’t take your eyes off of him. Something about the way he confidently puts his chips down, inching his card upward so he can sneak a peek. He smokes cigarette after cigarette, smoke perfuming out of his mouth as he stares down at the table. He’s not stressed if he’s down a bet, or even if he loses entirely. His demeanor stays cool no matter what.

Not to mention the way he keeps glancing up at you. You meet his gaze everytime. The most you’ve gotten out of him is a cunning chuckle, the occasional shift of his eyes up and down your body as he inhales a puff of tobacco.

But every time he raises his finger to order a drink, you give Ursula —the only other server in the room— a side eye and she gets the message right away. It’s not uncommon for players to take a server home, especially given the required uniform of a tight cocktail dress and 4-inch minimum stilettos. So it was a customary practice between hostesses to claim a player at the table, taking them all of their drinks and performing flirty bits of banter when you did. Last week Ursula took home the hot art dealer with the infamous 9-inch dick. So this week, it’s your pick of the draw.

And amongst the slew of old businessmen and retired actors, Cole — the 20-something trust fund kid — was the obvious choice.

He shakes his empty scotch glass in the air, eyes not leaving the poker table, another unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. You’d almost be offended if he wasn’t so handsome. You dutifully tap the counter and Pascal the bartender pours another glass. You put it on a server tray and walk over to him, staring at him relentlessly as you strut. Your heels don’t make a sound on the Plaza suite floor, so he doesn’t even notice you until you’re hovering beside him.

You place his empty glass onto your tray, replacing it with the new one. He leans back in his chair, unsurprised by your presence but not at all invaded. He smirks, the stick of nicotine floundering upward like it's a toothpick. You take a zippo lighter from your tray and light it with a flick, offering the flame to him. He leans forward just enough to light it, eyes darting to yours.

In this quiet moment, you can’t help but take in the view, for just the second it takes for his cigarette to burn. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough for his dark chest hair to peak out under a single gold chain. His dress pants scrunch up around his groin revealing a subtle bulge. His hair has been combed through with his fingers all night, now slightly disheveled with a few strands brushing over his face.

“Thanks, honey.” He acknowledges, eyes lingering at where your dress ends.

You don’t say a word. You’re not supposed to when cards are on the table. And Molly took a leap of faith in you in this job, so you don’t want to disappoint her. She’s in the corner behind her laptop and reading glasses, as usual, watching everything with a knowing surveillance.

So you just turn around unhurriedly, walking back to the bar counter, feeling Cole’s stare on your ass which admittedly looked amazing in this dress.

When this game ends, it’s 2 AM. A handful of players get up to pay or collect from Molly, others stay at the table for another game. Cole makes his way over to you, shuffling poker chips between his hands. You’re exhausted, leaning your body weight on the counter with your elbows as your waist sticks out between the bar stools. He plops down on the one to your left.

“Long night?” He asks, but you know he doesn’t really care.

You softly groan, rubbing your temple. “Try a long life.”

“Oh, poor baby has to serve drinks to rich men for a living. Sounds grueling.” God, you really want to hate him. But when you turn your head to look at him, his eyes are sweet and caressing. You melt instantly.

“I’d like to see you walk a mile in my six-inch heels.” Is what you manage to come up with.

“But you look so much better in them, doll.” His gaze works his way up your body, stabling them at your cleavage peeking through the low neckline. Pascal sighs from behind the bar, “Another drink, Cole?”

Cole doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even look in his direction. His eyes remain on you. “I’m staying right upstairs tonight. I bet you’ve never laid on a Plaza bed before, comfort like you won’t believe.”

It’s forward, but expected. And he’s right, you’ve never stayed in a hotel fancier than a Hilton. But that’s not why you want to go to his room, and he knows it.

“Sure.” You reply, standing up properly.

You follow him out of the room, giving Molly a glance on your way out to silently let her know to sub in one of the servers sitting on the couch beside her.

The elevator ride is tedious and silent. You’re only going up one floor, so you just stand in the middle while he tipsily leans against the wall to admire you. You swallow, meeting his eyes but not saying a word.

When you enter his suite, you notice that it's basically identical to the one below, sans the poker table and Molly in the corner watching your every move. He lets you in first, but then walks right past you toward the mini-bar behind the loveseat. You watch him pour two drinks and bring one to you, a musky brown liquid not even reaching an inch up the glass.

You two stand close in front of each other. He clinks his glass to your’s and downs the entire shot in one go. You just take a small sip, watching his throat swallow the harsh liquid. “You bring a lot of girls up to your hotel room?” You wonder aloud, taking another sip.

He shrugs, “Only when they're as gorgeous as you.”

You nod slowly, “Hm…”

“I felt your eyes on me all night. God, I was half-hard under the table thinking about getting you out of that dress.” He huffs, setting his glass down on the coffee table.

You finish your drink, setting your cup down beside his. Now there’s nothing between you two but a longing heat. “So are you just going to keep talking about it or are you gonna do it?”

He stifles a dry laugh, leaning in close until your lips are a mere inch apart. He sucks in a breath, eyes flickering down to your lips. “I couldn’t begin to tell you all the things I want to do to you tonight.” And with that, he grabs your waist and plants his lips on yours.

Your hands go straight to his neck. The kiss liquefies you into his arms, his hands gripping you in a way that presses your body flat into his. Your lips move together in hunger, depravity almost. His tongue sinks into yours and you can taste the cigarette smoke and scotch, and you feel yourself wanting to devour him more and more.

You feel his hands find the zipper of your dress and he opens it down the small of your back. The cool air on your body sends a small chill down your spine. He takes his time peeling the fabric off of your shoulders and down your arms, lips trailing over to your cheeks and down your neck.

When the dress drops to the floor, you're left in just a small pair of lacy panties. He kisses your clavicle, down your breastbone, gripping one of your tits while he begins to suckle at the other. You huff a breath of air, his tongue circling your left nipple. Your brain goes blank from the pleasure, eyes fluttering shut.

“God, you’re already wrecked for me, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, the hot air of his breath creating a whole other sensation.

You manage to tug at the backside of his shirt, untucking it from his pants. “No fair…” You sigh.

“Okay, okay,” Cole obliges, lifting his shirt above his head and tossing it onto the loveseat. “C’mon, honey.”

You return the heat of his mouth, his lips like a drug, as he works you backward toward the bed. You feel the comforter hit the backside of your legs as you find his belt buckle and undo it. He helps you tear his belt off. You unbuckle his pants, his tongue pressing against yours’.

Your hand dives into his pants and you finally feel the heaviness of him, thick and hard underneath a pair of silk briefs. He lets out a guttural groan into your mouth as you grip him, tugging half-heartedly on his cock. “That feel good?” You say against his lips.

“Mmph, mm-hm.” He moans. “I need you right fucking now.”

You kiss him again, suckling on his breath. “How do you want me?” You’d do anything for him to be inside you at this point, your core buzzing and soaked.

He leans over and licks your bare shoulder. “Turn around.” He says under his breath.

You slowly turn until you feel your ass pressed firmly against his groin, feeling the hardness on him between your thonged ass. He places wet kisses all down your back, wrapping his hands around you to grip your tits with ferocity.

“Get on all fours.” He orders softly, hands moving to your waste and guiding you onto the bed.

You crawl with your ass pointed at him until you're resting your hands on a handful of pillows at the top of the bed. You glance over your shoulder and see him kick off his pants and underwear onto the floor. He kneels onto the bed and places kisses on the fat of your ass cheek, biting down on the skin just enough to get a soft moan out of you.

Then you feel his fingers on your core. Through the lace, he rubs the fabric between the lips of your pussy onto the tip of your clit. “Fuck, your leaking through your goddamn panties.” He hisses. You rest your head in your arms, sticking your ass even further in the air and giving him better access. “You wanted this so bad, hm?”

“I needed this so bad, Cole.” You mimic back to him in a moan.

“And you’ll let me do anything to you, won’t you?” He presses a little harder on your clit. “You’ll let daddy do anything he wants to your pretty little pussy?”

You feel yourself get wetter at his words, the small movements of his fingers getting easier and slicker by the second. “Daddy can do whatever he wants, just give me your fucking cock, please.” He chuckles as you beg, high on his own power over you. “Are you sure you can handle it, sweetheart? I’m a bit of a stretch.” You feel him move your panties so your core is exposed to him.

“Please fill me up, Cole. I wanna feel you so bad.” You’re dying for him to give you anything, all of him.

He takes his bare cock and uses it to moisten himself with the wetness of your folds. As he circles your pussy with it, he sighs. “You’re gonna take all of me. Not some, all, okay?” You nod against the pillows, feeling ready and not at all prepared at the same time. He still doesn’t enter you. “I have to hear the words, sweetheart.” “All of you, Daddy. Give it all to me.”

And with that, he shoves his entire cock into you in one puncture, practically splitting you in half. You squeal, gripping the comforter below you tightly to steady yourself. He’s bottoming you out, and without pulling out, wiggling his hips against your ass. The pain mixes with pleasure in the most delicious way, and your eyes are already watering.

“Mm-hm, that's it, baby.” He pulls out slowly, only to buck into you again. You feel his fingers dig into his waist to give him better control. “You’re daddy’s little fucktoy.”

“K-keep… Keep going.” You whine, breathless.

He’s all smug about it, brows furrowing as he grins. He begins to pump into you at a dizzying pace, his cock tilting into your cervix at the exact right spot. You can already feel your first orgasm approaching. Moans spill from your mouth as you grip onto pillows, the headboard, the sheets, anything you can get your hands on.

“You’re so fucking tight, oh my god.” He groans. “And just soaking for me, honey, like you were meant for this cock.”

“Mm, daddy…” Your pleasure grows and grows, your pussy throbbing around him. “M’ gonna…”

“Fuck, are you coming already?” His pace remains the same, letting out these grunting moans. A coil in you snaps, and your orgasm hits you suddenly and violently. You're writing your face against the comforter as you're practically mewling against it.

He slows down as you come down from you high, but only for a moment. Within the lull, he sends a swift and hard smack to your ass. “Shit.” You moan.

“Only my cock can make you feel this way, hm? Only daddy’s cock.” He smacks your ass again, right where it's most tender and turning red already.

You’re so oversensitive from his cock and the spanks that you're drooling. Your moans are high-pitched and desperate for more. “Are you gonna cum inside me, daddy?” He groans at the invitation, bucking his hips sloppily and fast. Your ass is bouncing off of him, “Can I get another one out of you?” He breathes, reaching around your waste to play with your clit. The sensation sends you over the edge, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Mmmm, mmph,” You moan against the pillow. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” He doesn’t, only fucking you harder. He feels you pulsate around him again, thighs shaking. “That’s it. Cum for me..”

Your sweat beads down your face as you feel your second orgasm come over you. This one is overpowering and all-consuming, your hips writhing. “Oh… Fucking hell, I’m cumming.” You whine.

“Cum with me, baby. Let me feel you cum.” He refuses to stop his hips, fucking his own orgasm into you. You feel a deep warmth fill your pussy as his groans turn perversely pitchy. You tighten around him, pulling another moan out of him as his shoulders tense. He grips your ass with this whole hand, holding onto the cheek for dear life as he spills.

“Fuck me…” He lets out, slowing down and leaving his cock still and pulsating.

You both let out a synchronized sigh, and he pulls out of you tentatively. His cum leaks out of your hole and onto the blanket. You only have the energy to collapse forward, lying on your stomach as he lays beside you.

He smiles at your exhausted state, softly caressing the hair out of your face. You blink up at him, blissed out. “You can sleep here tonight, honey.” He grins, almost compassionately. “But I don’t think I can let you leave. I’m not done with you yet.”

[yukipri]

Some thoughts on Cara

So some of you may have heard about Cara, the new platform that a lot of artists are trying out. It's been around for a while, but there's been a recent huge surge of new users, myself among them. Thought I'd type up a lil thing on my initial thoughts.

First, what is Cara?

From their About Cara page:

Cara is a social media and portfolio platform for artists. With the widespread use of generative AI, we decided to build a place that filters out generative AI images so that people who want to find authentic creatives and artwork can do so easily. Many platforms currently accept AI art when it’s not ethical, while others have promised “no AI forever” policies without consideration for the scenario where adoption of such technologies may happen at the workplace in the coming years. The future of creative industries requires nuanced understanding and support to help artists and companies connect and work together. We want to bridge the gap and build a platform that we would enjoy using as creatives ourselves. Our stance on AI: ・We do not agree with generative AI tools in their current unethical form, and we won’t host AI-generated portfolios unless the rampant ethical and data privacy issues around datasets are resolved via regulation. ・In the event that legislation is passed to clearly protect artists, we believe that AI-generated content should always be clearly labeled, because the public should always be able to search for human-made art and media easily.

Should note that Cara is independently funded, and is made by a core group of artists and engineers and is even collaborating with the Glaze project. It's very much a platform by artists, for artists!

Should also mention that in being a platform for artists, it's more a gallery first, with social media functionalities on the side. The info below will hopefully explain how that works.

Next, my actual initial thoughts using it, and things that set it apart from other platforms I've used:

1) When you post, you can choose to check the portfolio option, or to NOT check it. This is fantastic because it means I can have just my art organized in my gallery, but I can still post random stuff like photos of my cats and it won't clutter things. You can also just ramble/text post and it won't affect the gallery view!

2) You can adjust your crop preview for your images. Such a simple thing, yet so darn nice.

3) When you check that "Add to portfolio," you get a bunch of additional optional fields: Title, Field/Medium, Project Type, Category Tags, and Software Used. It's nice that you can put all this info into organized fields that don't take up text space.

4) Speaking of text, 5000 character limit is niiiiice. If you want to talk, you can.

5) Two separate feeds, a "For You" algorithmic one, and "Following." The "Following" actually appears to be full chronological timeline of just folks you follow (like Tumblr). Amazing.

6) Now usually, "For You" being set to home/default kinda pisses me off because generally I like curating my own experience, but not here, for this handy reason: if you tap the gear symbol, you can ADJUST your algorithm feed!

So you can choose what you see still!!! AMAZING. And, again, you still have your Following timeline too.

7) To repeat the stuff at the top of this post, its creation and intent as a place by artists, for artists. Hopefully you can also see from the points above that it's been designed with artists in mind.

8) No GenAI images!!!! There's a pop up that says it's not allowed, and apparently there's some sort of detector thing too. Not sure how reliable the latter is, but so far, it's just been a breath of fresh air, being able to scroll and see human art art and art!

To be clear, Cara's not perfect and is currently pretty laggy, and you can get errors while posting (so far, I've had more success on desktop than the mobile app), but that's understandable, given the small team. They'll need time to scale. For me though, it's a fair tradeoff for a platform that actually cares about artists.

Currently it also doesn't allow NSFW, not sure if that'll change given app store rules.

As mentioned above, they're independently funded, which means the team is currently paying for Cara itself. They have a kofi set up for folks who want to chip in, but it's optional. Here's the link to the tweet from one of the founders:

And a reminder that no matter that the platform itself isn't selling our data to GenAI, it can still be scraped by third parties. Protect your work with Glaze and Nightshade!

Anyway, I'm still figuring stuff out and have only been on Cara a few days, but I feel hopeful, and I think they're off to a good start.

I hope this post has been informative!

Lastly, here's my own Cara if you want to come say hi! Not sure at all if I'll be active on there, but if you're an artist like me who is keeping an eye out for hopefully nice communities, check it out!

[witlesswitnesstm]

I am a firm Marvin Gardens BPD/NPD truther, so here’s all my evidence.

This is a very long post, so buckle up.

• Narcissistic Personality Disorder

Let’s go through the symptoms he shows, shall we?

- Has unreasonably high sense of self importance, and requires constant admiration:

Marvin, especially as a child, exhibits a large amount of grandiosity. This is most evident in How Marvin eats his breakfast and My Highschool Sweetheart.

He thinks of himself as above the maid staff and he constantly threatens/accuses them. Then he’s given the role of Columbus, and highly identifies with him to the point where he claims he *is* Columbus. That he’s this grand explorer, who’s the king of the ocean. He believes he’s powerful because of the role.

Then as an adult, Marvin has a constant need for adoration. He needs people (like Whizzer and Trina) to love and want him in songs like Thrill of first love and This had better come to a stop. That might even be a reason he got with Trina in the first place. He wanted to feel needed, without the responsibility of having to love back.

Not to mention the line “Kid. Be my son.” In Father to son. He wants Jason to fulfill the role as his son (and subsequently love him), not really acknowledging he’s his own person. But he still deeply cares about Jason, and wants him to succeed, he just does it through the only lense he understands; himself. Also, I noticed that Marvin literally moves the chess board aside and makes Jason face him during that song, even though he clearly doesn’t want to.

- Believes they deserve special privileges or treatment:

The R of Ms. Goldberg shows Marvin is obsessed with getting what he wants, for no other reason besides the fact that he wants it. It’s also implied that he didn’t even necessarily have the acting skills required to be Columbus, Ms. Goldberg just conceded because he kept pestering her. He believed he deserved it, so he got it.

- Make achievements and talents bigger than they actually are:

Again, Marvin obsessed over being a star actor. He also consistently exaggerates his intelligence with lines like “I can read her like a book” in How Marvin eats his breakfast and “I'm not so rich but hell I'm smart.” In This had better come to a stop.

In I never wanted to love you, Marvin also claims that he’s in demand, when he’s most likely not and is just trying to cover for his ego.

- Preoccupied with fantasies of success, power, brilliance

Oh wow. Ok, so we all know about the metaphor for games at this point. Marvin loves winning, he literally says it’s everything to him. He also says that he wants it all multiple times which is just, really driving home the point that he craves success and power over everything else.

Marvin is also characterized as being rich, which again emphasizes his need for success. I’m thinking he climbed the corporate ladder for the sole objective of looking like he’s successful.

Side note, I think the reason he never acknowledges how rich he is might be because he’s ashamed of being a trust fund baby. He had a whole maid staff as a kid, so it’s implied his parents had mad stacks. He might’ve sought success outside his parents’ money so that it was his own accomplishment, not his family’s.

I want to touch on My chance to survive the night, specifically the line “I played a game. She was as cute as a dime and couldn't spell. I asked her to spell my name. That's it for girls.” Marvin has a history of using games as a basis for breaking up with people because of his insecurity, even before Chess game. He gets a lot better with this in act 2, and this is evident in the racquetball matches. He seems a little unconfident, but he’s not devastated by it in the way he would be before.

I’ve mentioned this in a separate post, but The r of Ms. Goldberg can also be interpreted as a fantasy for power, since Marvin isn’t actually interested in having sex with Ms. Goldberg, and instead just wants to have control over her.

- Is critical and looks down on people they feel aren’t important:

Marvin consistently ignores his sweetheart even when she begs for his attention. When she tries to tell him she’s a person, he calls her ridiculous.

Marvin also just generally acted out as a child because he considered everyone as beneath him.

This trait is especially highlighted In Tight Knit family reprise, where he just straight up talks shit about Mendel, not being able to believe that Trina can love him. It’s also shown in Marvin hits Trina, that he dislikes her platitudes and expects substance from her, and then goes on to again beg for admiration with the line “How could you ever deny what we had?”

- Expects others to do what they ask without question:

This is best shown in This had better come to a stop and Chess game. Marvin expects Whizzer to play the housewife, while not acknowledging that he’s his own person.

This is also displayed in Tight Knit family, where he expects everyone to go along with his perfect vision of what a family should be.

- Has an inability or unwillingness to recognize the needs and feelings of others:

This is most clear with Sweetheart and Trina. As I’ve said, Marvin blatantly ignores sweetheart’s attempts to love him, and completely disregards her. I want to note how he does this in favor of being attached to Ms. Goldberg and playing Columbus which are his power fantasies, essentially.

This trait is also shown in Breakfast over Sugar when Marvin basically tells Trina to shut up and that she’ll get over it when she’s having a a pretty expected emotional outburst to him divorcing her. He completely disregards her feelings, showing no empathy to her.

- Acts arrogantly:

This can just be interpreted as confidence but Marvin says that he loves being himself multiple times over the course of In trousers.

• Borderline Personality Disorder

- A strong fear of abandonment:

This ties into Marvin’s need for admiration, but he constantly asks others for validation, and even doesn’t want Trina to find new partners because he interprets it as abandonment of his family.

There’s also the workshop version of This had better come to a stop, which is all about how Marvin is terrified that Whizzer’s going to leave him again in act 2, but he tries to bury all those feelings down so that he doesn’t appear needy. One of the lines is “I sit here and slowly rot. Wait for Whizzer, wait for answers, and get none.” Which just really nails down this point.

There’s also Unlikely lovers, when Marvin refuses to leave Whizzer’s side in the hospital.

- A pattern of unstable, intense relationships:

I’m sure we all know where this is going.

Marvin has a lot of opinions about Trina. He says that he thinks she’s perfect in I have a family, but that at the same time, he says that he hates her in I swear I won’t ever again.

His wants are contradictory. He wanted Trina to leave him alone when he divorced her, but couldn’t accept that she married Mendel. Also, he fights with Trina consistently, even throughout Act 2.

Onto Whizzer, their relationship is driven solely by chaotic passion. Their relationship is *built* on fighting and making up with hate sex.

Whizzer has no idea how to feel about Marvin because of how unstable he is. Marvin can be gentle, but he expects everything to go his way. He’s affectionate but highly judgemental. (Then again, so is Whizzer.)

- Quick changes in how they view themself:

This is best shown in Your Lips and Me reprise. Marvin goes from hating who he was and what he did to Ms. Goldberg to having a whole ass victory song about how he loves being himself.

This might be sarcasm, but Marvin is also self deprecating in Tight knit family reprise, with the lyric “I'm too damn peeved, self-absorbed, self-deceived. Who knows?”

- Periods of stress related paranoia and loss of contact with reality

This is a stretch, but Marvin’s exes always hovering around him in In trousers might be paranoia about his past manifesting itself. This is especially clear in I can’t sleep and Your lips and Me reprise where they physically interact with him, preventing him from sleeping or reminding him of his past.

- Impulsive/risky behavior:

Bro got multiple STDs, presumably from unsafe sex. Also, it’s implied that he also got HIV after Whizzer.

Hitting Trina could also be seen as impulsive behavior.

- Wide mood swings:

This is where Marvin’s giddy seizures comes in. He has periods of extreme laughter and giddiness, sporadically.

- Inappropriate levels of anger

Marvin hits Trina. I mean, what else do I have to say? This whole song is about Marvin’s anger taking over his actions and causing physical harm because of it. He also shows inappropriate anger when he brings out Whizzer’s belongings after the Chess game.

Ok Jesus Christ that was a lot of words. Keep in mind that these are just my headcanons and you’re allowed to interpret Marvin in any way you want.

Also I don’t have these disorders myself and I’m not a professional psychologist or anything so let me know if I got some things wrong. I just care way too much about the Marvin Trilogy and I’m also interested in becoming a psychologist.

[sourholland]

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → welcome to the first part of style!! if you guys enjoy this i can for sure come up with a more permanent updating schedule. like i said, i came up with this idea pretty suddenly. let me know to be added to the taglist, interaction is always encouraged if you like!!! it lets me know you guys want more parts

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language, alcohol use, mention of injury, nsfw content

word count → 4.1k

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SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 1

After a rigorous auditioning process with over a thousand girls trying to earn their spot on the Bengal’s Cheerleading Squad, only forty made the cut. Most returners, some new like yourself. You’d watched girls break bones, continuing to audition on them to have a shot on the squad. Many left in tears, cut and sent home with hardly any reason why.

There was a little bit of metaphorical survivor’s guilt after you’d made the team, knowing this wasn’t your dream like it was for some others. This was only a season or two commitment for you while you finished up your last year of college. Then you’d become a teacher, something you’d had a passion for over the years. Cheerleading was more so a hobby, you’d danced all of your life and had cheered in high school. This wasn’t going to be your livelihood, nor did it offer you the funds to live off of for more than a short while.

There were plenty of rules to follow, many of which had you questioning if this was truly what you wanted. The handbook they’d given you was thick, although some of the girls had told you that they’d lessened up on the requirements over the years after a lawsuit had been filed. In the end, it wasn’t so bad. Tedious, but still a very surreal experience.

From about April to the middle of July, it was practice twice a week from 7:30 at night to about 11. There was a separate facility used to work and condition through the colder months, just following the Super Bowl. Once pre-season truly began, the whole team moved practice facilities. This put you in the same place as the Bengals practiced, giving you more field time than gym time to get acclimated. It was different, especially due to the fact that players and cheerleaders were placed at an arms length most of the time.

The afternoon of the first practice at the new stadium, you’d all been given the talk. This was basically your coaches and executives way of saying that if anyone found out that anyone off the squad had anything more than a friendly, professional relationship with one of the players—they’d be either cut or sanctioned. It was bad for the image of the team, making it bad for those in charge.

It shouldn’t have been a problem.

That first night practice in August was tough, you were coming off of a sprained ankle and the heat was blistering even at 8 at night. Amanda, your head coach, sent you inside to grab some ice from the athletic trainer to bring back out to the field. There was a stigma around the coaching and treatment of NFL cheerleaders, but you’d mostly had a decent experience so far. Your coaches did care that you were healthy and equipped to cheer.

Adorned in a slightly baggy Bengals T-shirt and spandex, you walked through the empty halls of the mostly deserted facility. The players had just ended their practice about an hour earlier, you watched them all exit into the locker room. That meant that mostly everyone had called it a night, heading home. The cheerleaders stayed late because practice was meant to be after work or class, it wasn’t a full-time job.

The door to the athletic trainers office was slightly ajar, the light on. Pushing it open slightly, you stepped in with furrowed eyebrows and a curious look. On the large medical table, ice in hand, sat Joe Borrow still in his practice jersey and shorts. The office was empty besides him, trainer nowhere to be seen.

He was a good looking guy, you’d give him that. Maybe it was the fact that he was 6’4 or maybe it was the fact that he was really fucking good at his sport. He looked up at you and gave a friendly grin, laying the ice on his knee.

“Emily said she was heading home about a half hour ago, her kid was sick or something so she had to pick him up from the babysitter,” Joe told you politely. “I came in just as she was like walking out, she just told me to lock up the office when I was done.”

Someone was clearly a rambler.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I was just going to grab some ice.”

He nodded and went silent while you walked over to the ice maker, taking the plastic scooper and putting some of it into a plastic bag. He was still looking at you, making it obvious as you saw him from your peripheral. Twisting the bag, you felt slightly awkward just standing there in silence.

“I’m Joe,” he spoke again.

“Y/N,” you turned back towards him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He extended a hand towards you, smiling as you took it and shook it softly. When you broke from his grip, he remained looking at you. He was definitely one of those people who looked you right in the eyes through the entire conversation. You didn’t know if this made you particularly uncomfortable or slightly excited.

“You’re a cheerleader.”

“Was that a question?” You chuckled, “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“No, no. I was kind of just thinking out loud.”

He was easily flustered, that much was obvious. He repositioned the bag of ice and looked back up at you with slightly pink cheeks. This made you want to crack a grin, feeling like you were talking to a boy for the first time ever or something.

“I should head back to practice,” you told him, watching him slowly nod in understanding.

“Yeah, of course,” Joe smiled. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N.”

Walking out of the athletic trainer’s office felt somewhat like developing a crush in sixth grade of sorts. With hot cheeks, you could not get him out of your head for the remainder of practice. Whether it was his stupid hair or his stupid shit-eating grin, or his stupidly toned body.

The drive home was only a twenty-five minute stretch of turning back the interaction in your mind over and over with Phoebe Bridgers playing lightly in the background. Pulling into your apartment complex garage was when you’d finally resorted to telling yourself to leave it be and take a cold shower. This boy was not worth thinking too hard about.

You turned the key over and cut the vehicle off, grabbing your phone and cheer bag to head to the elevator. The walk up was somewhat somber after a hard practice with a racing mind.

By the time you’d made it up to your front door, you glanced down at your phone to check the time. There were several unopened notifications, nothing out of the ordinary at first glance. One immediately stuck out to you, though.

joeyb_9 started following you.

“What the fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, nearly dropping your keys as you unlocked the door.

There was a small part of you that was excited by this, he was one of the most sought after players in the NFL—who wouldn’t be a bit flattered? Only there was a small part of you that wondered why he was going out of his way to search up your instagram.

Setting your phone down, you resorted to making yourself a quick dinner. Watching your phone light up from where you stood across the kitchen making yourself a wrap was slightly unnerving.

Once you finally couldn’t resist any longer, you sauntered over to grab your phone off of the island. He’d sent you two DMs. One right after the other.

@joeyb_9: Hey

@joeyb_9: It’s Joe.

This boy was either extremely humble or just plain stupid. His ability to continue to tell you that it was Joe—like you wouldn’t know who Joe Burrow was.

@y/n.y/l/n: I’m aware

@y/n.y/l/n: Missing me already?

@joeyb_9: Maybe…

There was a slight pause in between his next message, you weren’t sure what to say to that. This was already pretty bizarre and very against the code of conduct you signed at the start of your cheer season.

@joeyb_9: Sorry if this is weird

@y/n.y/l/n: That you’re sliding into my dms lol?

@joeyb_9: Is that what this is??

@y/n.y/l/n: You use that on all the girls, Joe?

@joeyb_9: Would you believe me if I said no?

@y/n.y/l/n: Probably not lmfao

@joeyb_9: That’s fair, I probably wouldn’t either

This was the point in the conversation where you always wondered what to do. It also was pretty obvious that you were not the only girl Joe Burrow probably private messaged on instagram. He’d probably long forget about you by morning and the few hours of your stomach doing backflips at every message would cease.

@y/n.y/l/n: Alright, I’m headed to bed.

@y/n.y/l/n: Was nice meeting you earlier. Have a goodnight!

@joeyb_9: Goodnight, Y/N :)

The smiley face was only slightly scream inducing. He was a nice guy, but he was not just any guy. This was the type of guy that charms you straight into bed and is gone before you wake up. This was what you reminded yourself at least.

-

The next day was fairly simple, the thought of Joe escaping you almost entirely by lunch. Classes hadn’t yet begun, making it easy for you to go out with girlfriends and get your mind off of any failed talking stages or unattainable guys like Joe Burrow.

“He’s hot as fuck, though,” Lena said, eyes closed as she laid on a towel beside you.

It was a lake day, the heat beading down on the both of you as you felt the sun on your bikini clad skin. On your right and left was Lena and Sydney, both close friends from college. Lena had been your freshman year roommate.

“He is,” Sydney agreed. “Plus, I mean, you can’t say you didn’t think about it a little bit when you started cheering for the Bengals.”

“Okay, screw you!” You laughed. “It’s not some fucking erotica, I don’t cheer hoping to sleep with one of the players.”

“Kind of a turn on, though,” Lena hummed.

Once the three of you had made it onto Lena’s boyfriend’s party barge, you broke out the Mike’s Hard and Twisted Tea. This only led to endless giggling about Joe and pretty much any guy they’d heard you have spoken to since high school.

Living in Ohio had its faults, like the fact that there was no ocean. Lake days on the boat weren’t so bad, though. Sydney had a gift for taking hot pictures too. Her camera skills truly did capture your ass at its best, and your skin glowing.

“Post those,” Lena told you. “See if Mr. Joe Sheisty will like them.”

“He won’t,” you sighed. “He definitely was just fucking around last night.”

They both rolled their eyes and sat back as the boat bobbled a little. While the idea of entertaining Joe was slightly enticing, it was so against the rules and you really couldn’t afford to get kicked off the squad before the first actual game of the season.

The alcohol kind of skewed your judgement, though. Making it fairly easy for you to post the bikini pictures and keep refreshing the likes. You weren’t necessarily proud, but it was hard to resist the urge to match his energy of private messaging you.

A few hours after you made it home, the notification popped up on your screen. You were midway through stretching to work on your routine for your next practice.

joeyb_9 liked your post.

@joeyb_9: Would it be wrong to tell you how gorgeous you are?

This just about sent you over the edge. You’d thought your days of dms from Joe Burrow were done and the novelty would’ve worn off after he’d slept on it.

@y/n.y/l/n: Slightly wrong

@joeyb_9: Fine by me

Swiping out of the instagram app, you decided that you needed to continue your stretch and practice. There was a night practice tomorrow and you couldn’t afford to show up unprepared, this would only end in worse things than flirting with Joe.

Between ab exercises and strength training, you’d been able to glance down at your phone with no more texts received. Of course, you had left him on read. It was pretty obvious his intentions, though. At least it seemed it.

-

Practice was strenuous, it was only three nights of the weeks so the coaches made sure to push each girl to their limit each night. By the last thirty minutes of practice, your ankle was on fire.

They’d made you run through the stunting over and over again, launching you into the air and cradling you over and over again. The stadium lights were gleaming onto you, your face coated in a thin layer of perspiration.

Through your peripheral, you could see Joe leaning against the doorframe of the stadium support office. He was pretending to scroll through his phone, glancing up and watching every couple of seconds. The players had a practiced later tonight, but still had been done for over forty five minutes.

Every time they sent you up, you were reminded of your distractions. A coach would yell to point your toes, or smile bigger, or suck in harder. Physically, you were exhausted. Mentally, you had already checked out of practice completely.

“Did any of you see Joe?” Carolina asked in a hushed voice, picking up her things as practice ended, ready to head inside. “He was watching for like a half hour.”

“Really?” Johnna smirked. “Alright, which one of you is he sleeping with? I won’t tell, I just have to know,” she teased.

The girls continued to discuss it bashfully all the way inside. Joe was nowhere to be seen, making you wonder if he’d even been there to watch you at all. Truly, you were feeding your own delusions. There were so many girls on the team, he was bound to find interest in the group as a whole. That was sort of the whole appeal.

Just as you finished up showering in the locker room, you heard the ding of your phone. Another message from Joe.

@joeyb_9: Hey, I’m in the parking lot. Down for getting something to eat?

The overwhelming feeling of excitement and guilt passed over you. This was so against the rules, and this guy was such a player. It was not worth it, but a part of you didn’t care. You were only twenty one once, wasn’t this the kind of thing you did.

@y/n.y/l/n: Give me like 10 minutes

He liked the message, giving you some time to slip into the white dress you’d thrown in the bag. It was kind of wrinkled, the type of thing you’d put over a bikini leaving the beach. The true definition of a sundress. There were Birks at the bottom of your bag. The August heat was still very sticky and humid, even at almost midnight.

There wasn’t much else in your bag, you let your hair down from its claw clip and used the mascara in your bag to at least lift your lashes. Some Glossier cloud paint and brow gel and you were left with nothing else really. It wasn’t often you needed to do much to your face after practice. You mostly had the few things you did for morning practices before classes.

The walk out to his car was slightly dehumanizing, knowing how badly you were breaking the rules right now. He had turned his headlights off, inside dark and hard to see from an outside perspective. He’d messaged you that he was in a black Porsche, which was telling.

Once you opened the door and the small yellow light came on, you could see him in a white T-shirt and black sweatpants. His hair was familiarly slicked back, smirk on his face as he watched you step in.

“You’re going to bring me back to pick up my car, right?” You asked, knowing your car would reside in the parking lot until you came back.

“Yes,” he laughed. “I’ll bring you back to grab your car.”

The car smelled very fresh, you threw you cheer bag in his backseat. It laid next to his football bag, his practice jersey crumbled up and stuffed in carelessly.

He put the car in reverse and pulled out of the lot. It was a comfortable silence for about a minute before he began babbling about watching you practice. You’d never heard a boy so enthused to know about stunting and what it meant to be a flyer.

“What if they drop you, though?” He looked over at you. “Does that happen ever?”

“Well—yes. I kind of just have to get back up and try again or some other girl will take the flyer position. It’s not really something I can control.”

“That’s like crazy,” he mumbled, fully serious.

His radio hummed the sound of Pink Floyd, making you grin. He was a fan of older rock. That, you wouldn’t have guessed. Joe tapped his fingers along the steering wheel, smiling every time he saw you looking at him.

“Do you like Mcdonald’s?” He asked, ready to put his blinker on and pull into the drive thru.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Who doesn’t?”

He got up to the menu and glanced over it for a second, looking to you for what you wanted. As you told him, he laughed at you for not wanting a burger. This made you teasingly shove him in the arm.

“Welcome to Mcdonald’s. What can I get for you?”

“Alright,” Joe started. “Can I get a Double Quarter Pounder with onions, a large fry, and a large chocolate shake. Then can I get a ten piece chicken nugget and a large Dr. Pepper.”

“Will that be all?”

“Yeah, that’s gonna be it.”

Joe pulled up, still laughing about the fact that you went through a drive thru and got chicken nuggets on purpose. He slid his wallet out of his back pocket, giving you a funny look when you tried to hand him your card.

Pulling up to the first window, he gave the woman his debit card. You turned away from the window, making sure if she did recognize Joe, she would not be able to make out your face. While it was unlikely, it was just too risky. You did the same at the next window, Joe pulling the bag into the car and setting both drinks into the cup holder.

“Alright, I got a good spot to eat,” he said.

Cincinnati had plenty of spots you were unaware of, so when he continued to drive you out of the main part of the city, you were blissfully unaware of where you were. Either this was a ploy to murder you, or he just really liked surprises. After all, you were the one who got into his car.

Once he finally parked at the location, it was pushing one in the morning. It was a deserted lookout, a beautiful view of Cincinnati. The city looked lit up from this view, making your smile at that the gesture.

“The food might be slightly cold by now, but I really just wanted to bring you up here,” he said with a sigh as he sucked down the last of his milkshake.

“Here, have some,” you chuckled and handed him your soda.

The two of you ate, looking out at the city. The small talk was nice, he asked about cheerleading and you asked about football. Joe told you about his family and you asked about his hobbies. By the time you’d been sitting for a half hour, you were trying to throw french fries into his mouth without missing.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” you laughed nervously. “Why did you want me to come here with you, Joe? I mean, it’s all really nice and I’ve had a great time. Just why?”

He was silent for a moment, taking a sip from your soda. The question was kind of sudden, but you had to know. You’d only met a few days before, and this guy definitely had no trouble picking up women. So why you?

“Honestly, I just haven’t been able to get you out of my head,” he chuckled. “As stupid as that sounds out loud. I knew you might not go for this, but I thought maybe it’d be worth asking you.”

Your stomach flipped, his hair falling slightly into his eyes. The swell of his arms underneath that white T-shirt. This guy was insanely good looking, and maybe he was just saying what you wanted to hear, but you did really want to hear it.

Now, it wasn’t necessarily a good idea to look at him the way you were. It was impossible not to, though. Like clockwork, he was leaning into you full force and you let your hands go to his hair. His lips were hard on yours, desperate and hot. It was one of those kisses that wasn’t gentle nor rough, but completely and incandescently full of desperation.

Letting your hands slide down his body, you pulled at the white shirt, letting him know it was okay to run his hands up and down your torso. There was a middle console between you, making it hard to truly do much.

“Backseat?” You pulled away.

“Are you sure?” He asked, breathing heavy with swollen lips.

You nodded, he got out of the driver side and threw both bags in the front. Slipping back from the passenger seat, he got in through the back door. Immediately you’d both found each other again, bodies on fire. He let you get on top, straddling his thighs and kissing his throat.

Soon his hands found your breasts, leaving you to let our breathy whimpers. His lips were soon on your neck, sucking hard enough that it might leave a mark. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care, pulling his shirt off and letting him do the same with your dress.

Left in your underwear and bra, his fingers grazed overtop of the fabric. His name left your lips in pleas, making his erection grow increasingly more obvious. He was watching you rock back and forth on his fingers, the windows of the car steamy.

“Fuck me,” you breathed. “Please, Joe. Fuck me.”

He unclasped your bra, letting his lips trail from your pulse point at the throat down to your collarbone, then to the bud of your nipple. He played with the other with his fingers, leaving you a whimpering mess. He felt you grind on his clothed erection, sending him into a spiraling mess as he sucked harder and harder, fingers slipping underneath the fabric and inside of you.

Eventually, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you pulled at the waistband of his sweatpants and let him help you to pull them down his thighs. He wore white Calvin Kleins’s, cock very clearly erect and begging to be let out from the constriction.

He slipped his fingers out and took the hem of the underwear, tearing the fabric in half. This made you slap his arm, muttering something about how those were Aerie and expensive.

“I’ll get you another pair,” he kissed you again.

You sat up on top of him, aligning yourself and letting his length sink into you. There was sweat dripping off of both of you, burying your head into his neck.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned. “Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”

It was like nothing mattered except for this moment, you weren’t thinking about the consequences of your actions, or why it was wrong. He steadied your hips and held your jaw, looking you in the eyes at each thrust until you both came undone. Neither of you had regulated breathing, the whole car smelled like a mix of sex and his cologne.

“Fuck,” you sighed, head dropping onto his shoulder.

Slowly, you got off of his lap and let the realization of what you’d just done hit you. Here you were, in the back seat of Joe Burrow’s Porsche, having just had car sex. Now you had no underwear as well.

He pulled his underwear and sweatpants up, looking over at you and pushing his hair back out of his eyes. There was something funny about the entire situation, making you nearly bust into a fit of giggles.

“Are you laughing?” He teased.

“A little,” you laid your head against the seat.

He leaned forward and grabbed the Dr. Pepper from the middle console, taking a long sip and holding it out to you. You were pretty sure this wasn’t one of the five love languages, but it worked nonetheless.

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[jahayla-parker]

💭Headcanon: send in a character and a scenario or type of reader to get a bullet point list of thoughts on it.

okay okay, kaz brekker x sister!reader

Kaz Brekker's Sister Headcannons

I feel like his sister would be the youngest (born after both Jordie and Kaz). 'Cause part of his trauma is being afraid to rely on someone older who he thought would take care of him.

Running with that thought, Kaz would take that ^^^ type of role towards his sister very seriously. He vowed he wouldn’t let her down the way Jordie let him down (don’t come for me! His internal thoughts mention this frustration in the books so it’s canon).

We know Kaz is obviously very protective over those he cares about, which would undoubtedly extend to his sister. But, his role as the older brother added to that. And his disappointment and anger towards Jordie’s role in what happened ask those years ago, added to that as well; he wasn’t going to do that to his sister.

Although, he knew it wasn’t something he could prevent. Since it already happened to her once; the same day it happened to him. Jordie was her older brother as well. But Kaz nevertheless vowed to never let her down.

Kaz vowed to never make her have to worry about or even question having a roof over her head, a warm room to sleep in, food , etc.

He kept a healer on hand should she get sick ever (even so much as a cold). He wasn’t taking any chances. While he refused to let healers touch him he required it for her wellbeing.

She never had to worry about her safety. He’d taught her how to defend herself, how to fight, kill, etc.

He kept her from having to experience the financial difficulties he was old enough to experience due to Jordie’s deal with Rollins and as they aged, he made sure it stayed that way now that she was old enough to be able to know if that was the case as he made sure they always had enough funds saved up and the means to get more some should it be needed.

Kaz would’ve been so upset when his sister became ill, to the point it inadvertently made himself much sicker from stress.

Kaz tried to do whatever he could to get her feeling better, giving any scraps of sustenance to her instead of taking his portion/share and using their only blanket to cover more of her body by not covering any of his.

It would only have driven his anger against Pekka even further because he not only lost his older brother, he almost lost his little sister and he watched her suffer the loss of jordie as well

Given she was so young (given the age gap between Jordie and Kaz at the time of incident, I’m assuming she’s roughly 7 ish), it was a lot to process and try to make sense of

And poor Kaz wasn’t much better at that; certainly not to the point he’d be able to be much help for her in this area

As such, he resorted to simply helping raise her as if this new life was simply how their lives had always been

Because he’d used the blanket on her and not himself, and had literally given her some of the clothing off his back to keep her from freezing to death, she’d managed to survive the night.

In fact, while her body was too hypothermic to wake up when the medics came through and took her brothers, she was fortunate enough to be just warm enough to not be considered dead the way Kaz was, and as such, wasn’t dumped in the harbor with Jordie.

As such, she didn't develop the trauma with touch like Kaz

But, it was her presence on land that truly drove Kaz’s survival.

His body was giving up and he wanted nothing more than to just give in

And he especially didn’t want to have to use his brother’s body as a flotation mechanism in order to survive

But his vengeance and his inherent need to protect his little sister drove him

We know Kaz is shit when it comes to being around sick people now (understandably) but the one exception would be his sister should she fall ill.

That’s not to say he wasn’t still horrible at handling it, or that he wouldn’t go into a full on panic spiral at the tiniest sign of her getting sick

But, he was also unable to pull himself from her side until she healed.

He refused to ever risk being away from her while she was ill ever again.

As far as his touch phobia, that undoubtedly extended to his sister as well, although he truly hated himself for it (more so than when it came to his touch phobia in general).

But, it was out of his control. Besides things got better with time.

It started rough and killed his spirit each time when his little 7yr old sister wanted to hold her surviving brother’s hand while walking through the “scary” streets of the Barrel or otherwise simply sought physical comfort from him.

Especially because he’d once been able to offer that to her and he knew she was old enough to remember that and he saw the clear proof of that in her sad eyes every time he pulled away

But by that point, he’d suffered the worst of it. So he knew they’d power through

The worst was when he made it back to her and he’d had to explain to her that jordie was not coming back. As if her sobs and screams weren’t painful enough for Kaz, she tried to cling onto him for support, only to find herself confused and more distraught when he scrambled away

With time, the two orphans inevitably took over the town.

At first Kaz wouldn’t let his sister get involved

Until he realized that was futile, especially if he wanted her to start safe

He had caught her defiantly trying to help on her own, so he eventually caved and taught her everything she needed to now how to do and brought her into the business

Inej and Kaz’s interaction about crows was actually similar to what happened with his sister years before and that’s what made him choose to name their new elite crewmembers and dare his sister say friends, his crows.

Kaz used his power in the Barrel to create a safety shield around his sister

He knew she was a vulnerability to him and in turn was at risk by association, so most people didn’t know she was his sister

She’d been hurt at first when he told her this was how they’d go about their new life, after all, she was so young and didn’t understand but he did it for her sake

And if people did find out about them being siblings, they’d assume that she and Kaz must not be as close as normal siblings because they saw the business relationship only and assumed that’s all there was between them even when finding out about the blood relation (it helped that Kaz always made a name for himself as someone who didn’t care about anyone else), which worked to keep people from using her as bait or something against Kaz. Which was what he’d masterminded of course.

She was 7 so she didn’t understand the need to change their last names and start fresh but she trusted Kaz fully

She is and was the only person he ever took flack from and or allowed/allows to yell or argue etc with him but only in private

Kaz knew his sister would be struggling with Jordie’s death, as he himself was and still is

But he knew he was not going to be much help

He did as much as he could, if she’d suffered anxiety or panic attacks, he was there to offer verbal assistance and support

And he helped her take part in getting revenge for what they went through

But he couldn’t talk about it. It was still too much and talking was no longer a strength of his.

He couldn’t talk to her when she was younger as he needed her to simply follow along with what he said and believe this was just the way things went all along

But as they got older he still found himself unable to talk to her about it

But that’s why he finally told Inej just enough for her to know that his sister would be having similar issues as him since she was so worried about his behaviors and in turn, he knew Inej would go to her and be able to offer the support he couldn’t

Again, I could go on and on, but I loved this idea!

Kaz Taglist: @dil3mma @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @winstonthecow22 @alex-kazbrekkersimp @wolfmoonmusic @phoenix666stuff @kentucky-criedfricken @twlegit @valeridarkness @shara-ne @crazyhearttragedy @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @el-de-phi @adalia-jaycee @bookloverfilmoholic @beekeepingageissome

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[pigeonpeach]

Brains vs Brawn

Dehya vs Al haitham!

Fem reader

Summary: you, a new professor in the Akademiya is currently stuck between what might be scribe Haitham’s attempt at flirting and the Eremite Lady Dehya.

Al haitham was a bit hard to understand at first. He was in fact, extremely blunt but also difficult to understand. He preferred to be alone mostly. Your experience studying when he was a student wasn’t notable. If anything he melted into the background minus when Kaveh, the most beautiful man you had ever seen, was talking to him. But now that you’ve become a professor he seems to… ‘bother you’. You aren’t certain but he critiques very often including your lenient grading requirements. But you aren’t irrational. You hear him out and stand your ground. Al haitham to you isn’t a bad person, he’s definitely not incapable of empathy or emotions. He is simply just stone faced and a very logical person. Logic and emotions don’t often coincide well together afterall. But you couldn’t really read him well. You knew he respected you but a crush? No you didn’t think that. Until he asked you out for lunch. Which was a surprise but still a nice free lunch.

The problem for Al haitham however isn’t that he’s too blunt or difficult to read, its that his rival is the complete opposite of him. Dehya, a eremite with not a unit completed or a term studied is his adversary and he knows she stands a greater chance of winning your heart. In fact he thinks she might’ve.

Dehya like Al Haitham is muscular but she’s also very socialable. She likes chatting with the ladies and when you started hiring her for expeditions regularly and paying her handsomely for such, she grew fond of you. Not because of your money but because you were a nice lady. She liked getting a glimpse of the life you had, she LOVED how you would open up about the scholars even airing dirty secrets to her in confidence, which she will keep. You two were unlikely friends. While your fellow professors believe Al haitham to be the better choice you just vibe well with her. Not to mention those muscles, oh eremites gals are truly a different breed. The muscles, the scars, the beautiful tan skin showing how hardworking she is.

But Al haitham wasn’t going to give up. He instead decided to read up on the subject of courting and romance a little more, finding it difficult but necessary. He went out of his comfort zone to ask his friends for advice. Which immediately made them think he was some impostor and also snoop around to discover it was you he was pursuing. Al Haitham made a effort to ask what you wanted to do or if you felt like you needed more funding, you were very talented at your profession and very humble though.

Al haitham doesn’t despise or even dislike Dehya, he understands that love is hardly ever a logical choice or thing, but that it is something he doesn’t fully grasp yet. But he also wants to understand it better with you. He likes the presence you bring and secretly adores how your annoyed or angry face looks when you argue with others. He doesn’t mind if you pick her though, in the end he trust’s you’ll pick who you like the most. He still will try and if he doesn’t succeed then he’ll just try again someday when he feels ready to.

Dehya meanwhile is actually confused but picks up that he’s pursuing you. She’s a bit feisty though so it just makes her all the more bold. But she isn’t going to try and sabotage him or ruin his life. She is confident that she could win your heart with her own tatics. And if she loses then well she tried. She’s an adult. She’ll handle her emotions accordingly. Probably can’t stand to see you with him but she’ll get over it.

Its truly a difficult choice as both of them have such nice physiques and are both strong and smart in their own way.

[foxufortunes]

Some random tips and trivia for anyone wanting to take a slightly more realistic look at exy and sport in their fanfics:

Long jogs are not good for sports like exy. The best you can say is they're good cardio, but most exercise they should be doing anyway is good cardio. To oversimplify: long term energy and fast action energy have different power supplies and training one doesn't really help the other. There's a reason sprinters and marathon runners are not the same people. Exy is a sport of fast bursts and in some cases long jogs can actually be detrimental to your ability to play these sports.

Dear lord, warm up and cool down. I know most of us just assume this is in there and glossed over, but if you're going into details, warm up and cool down and wear warm jackets after. Especially cool down. I know Kevin and Neil have already fucked their bodies but don't make it worse. Also, rest days. You body needs time to recover. Kevin and Jean will be lucky if they recover enough not to have any career after college given how much Tetsuji has fucked the Ravens with his training. Thea is probably in agony the entire time and she doesn't have long left playing.

Goalie's lead the defence line. If you want to throw around a defence captain type plot, it's your goalies, it's always goalies. Because they have the best view of the entire court. You dealer should control the entire team's plays, as the person who should be going from defence to offence and back (assuming they work similarly to other sports with a similar position) but the defence is always run by the goalie, and your goalies are usually really fucking loud about it.

Your division/class is actually nothing to do with your team's skill, but your school's sports program and budget. The Foxes are not a Class I team, Palmetto is a D1 school. To get this status, your school has to have a certain level of sports program, featuring a certain number of sports, sports for women, upcoming/rarer sports and certain required sports. While EAU blatantly ignores all of this as presented in canon (they seem to be D3 status, maybe D2 at best) who got their status through bribery and corruption and their coach, Palmetto, as presented in canon, clearly meets D1 school status. Your school's division also affects what kinds of scholarships they offer. Typically, only D1 schools offer full ride sports scholarships. It's most likely Palmetto was looking to fund an exy team and Wymack went to them because they're a D1 school, or they approached Wymack, unlike the Ravens who clearly don't understand how this works.

On the topic of Wymack: the ERC couldn't have had anything to do with Andrew's miracle in October. We'll get to this but the ERC is just not that powerful, and, see above point, they have nothing to do with Palmetto's status. Now, Nora actually gives us a far more likely and better reason in the EC, that she then overcomplicated in canon trying to make the ERC more powerful for no reason, especially given Kevin wasn't even with the Foxes at the time. In the scene where we see Wymack recruiting the cousins, Andrew brings up the idea that Wymack's initial four year will be on it's last year that year and he needs results or the school will decline renewing his contract and rebuild the exy program from scratch under a new coach. This is far more likely a reason for him to need Andrew's miracle. It's his final year of his contract, the school wants results, and if they drop out now with so few games won, he's done for. And given how many NCAA rules he and Abby help the Foxes break, it won't be long before the rest of the Foxes lose their scholarships too.

Four years might seem like an odd amount of time for an initial contract, and it sorta is, but one thing mentioned in TSC that's never brought up in the original trilogy is redshirting. Basically, for all you have a five year contract, you can only play four seasons. One season, you get to practice, but not play games, this is called red shirting, and in my experience and what I've heard from others, it's typically the freshman, for obvious reason, but this does bring up issues for Wymack's team design, and means Neil will have to take a year off eventually. And don't even think about how this affects the Ravens.

Speaking of Ravens, this is honestly one of the most basic NCAA rules: you cannot play professionally and play NCAA. Kevin and Riko literally cannot be playing for professional teams and be playing for the Ravens, the NCAA would boot them instantly. And, up until very recently, you also cannot be paid for your photoshoots, or using your likeness or sponsorships. To play NCAA, during the period AFTG is set, you cannot make any money as a player. Now, there's an argument that Tetsuji could probably make that Kevin and Riko didn't make money as players, but as celebrities in their own rights, but that's a very grey area. But, no, they weren't getting paid for photoshoots or interviews or sponsorships or anything like that. The only exceptions are tournament winnings, and there is a very strict cap on that, and stipends which there was a lot of debate over whether that counted as payment or not. They cannot be paid for anything related to exy because the second the NCAA makes an exception for exy, every other sport wants it too, and I'm sure some of them are mafia backed too. Mafia bribery doesn't fix everything, and if your trying to write your mafia as not a bunch of idiots, they'll know where to stop.

And then the ERC. They're just not that powerful, y'all. I get that Nora wanted to make them seem powerful, but given how Riko does most of the shit not Tetsuji, even that's pointless. So, for a start, the ERC needs specific scope. It's cool to call it the Exy Rules and Regulations Committee, but for what? Sports tend to have an overall ruling body, but they don't actually control everything. They control things like national tournaments and teams. Then you have the country's body, that controls things like the leagues, and they often have different rules that take time to catch up to each other. Different leagues within the same country can have slightly different rules. And often the NCAA also has its own rules. (To use volleyball, because that does have wildly different rules, in the NCAA liberos can serve in certain conditions, and that's about the only place in the world this rule exists). Basically, they only have control if you're competing in their tournament or affiliated. For the ERC to have such control over the Foxes, they're likely an NCAA committee, this means the ERC only has power over rule and regulations of Class I exy (oh yes, each division has their own committee), meaning they control things like gear regulations, rules on bench size, foul rules ect. Not which class the Foxes are in, not if Andrew's allowed to play with them, nothing like that. It's strictly the rules of the game. And they are the bottom of the power chart. Above them you have things like the division committee, the student athlete's committee and so many others. The ERC actually has very little power because the NCAA is a massive, slow moving, complicated bureaucracy. Even if they could drop the Foxes a division or get rid of Andrew, it would take years.

[flooftyfizzlebeans]

Theory on why we headcanon specific characters as trans more often than others, using the Fizzlebeans as evidence.

Identity based character arcs vs... other stuff based character arcs.

Warning this is EXTREMELY LONG

Starting by analyzing Floofty, as they are my expertise.

Floofty is a scientist with no help, no funding, and ambitious plans. They come across as cold and uncaring, when in reality much of their shortsightedness comes from caring too much. Not for those closest to them directly, of course. But the greater good, and grumpuskind as a whole.

Their previous line of work suggests that when they had more resources, they spent more time helping individuals. Making prosthetics is a HIGHLY variable process, each individual limb that needs one being EXTREMELY different, even on the same person. Therefore they would need to be attentive towards individuals by necessity, even when making scientific breakthroughs. I don't think they'd have amazing bedside manner but I only bring this up to stress that Floofty is capable and willing to care for others should the situation call for it. However, they probably don't feel like they can afford to care after the events that cost them.... everything.

I assume they got their awesome career position through work during school, proving themself academically in a way that their.... abrasive characteristics wouldn't interfere with. Now that they have nothing, they're trying to get it back the same way they got it, by proving themself through actions.... but who they are and how people perceive them is directly responsible for their lack of help on Snaktooth. Actually, who they are likely made it near impossible to rebuild their reputation when inevitably grumps will think they are either chopping test subjects up to make murder machines or a confidentiality liability. They think their work should speak for itself, and who they are shouldn't matter. (They might even believe that they don't matter. It's already clear that their work is worth more to them than their own life.)

Realizing what they mean to others, who they could be to them when they let go of the big picture importance, and how they can help like they so desperately want to is integral to saving them. Let them forget that they are in fact, a grumpus, the very thing they want to save, and they might as well become what they study. Bugsnax.

...

Snorpy, however, as I've stated, is pretty much the opposite. Where Floofty rejects themself, Snorpy protects himself.... prepare for a staggeringly less complete analysis thanks to Not Literally Being Snorpy. Snorpies and Snorpy experts in the notes please contribute.

Snorpy is an engineer whose inventions are held in great esteem in Snaxburg, and yet he believes the world is out to get him. (By the world I mean... the grumpinati) The grumpinati is, in fact, not out to get him, and it takes incredible amounts of jumping to conclusions fueled by intense fear for anyone to shrink their world that small.

It's implied by his previous work that he was previously much more capable of... interacting with the public? being seen? than he is now. Like I mentioned, constructing prosthetics requires a lot of individual time and care, and a lot of interacting with many different grumpuses. But now? He is driven by fear. I can't even blame him, he's clearly deeply traumatized. How would you feel if your life's work was taken and warped for something you found cruel and evil all while you still depended on them for your livelihood? And you already probably had some sort of anxiety disorder?

Moving on, he is actually able to work perfectly fine. In fact, nearly every grumpus is seen using something he invented at least once? Despite inventions like The Knife Shot and flammable tripwire moments he's well liked by the town and everyone trusts his work to... work. But he's so absorbed by his own perceptions that it's impossible for him to take praise or even socialize without suspicion.

Even the relationship he holds most dear, and integral to what we call "Snorpy" is up in the air for him. I can only imagine he didn't ask for clarification or confess to his romantic feelings towards Chandlo out of fear. Fear of what exactly I can't say, as it's probably every possible factor that that course of action would change.

And... well. His main problem is never solved. Shelda is right, he needs therapy. Extensive therapy. But... he still improves. Part of why he does all of this is to protect Chandlo, and hide all of this from him... but after fighting Daddy Cakelegs it becomes a lot more clear to Snorpy that Chandlo is trying to protect him and knows a lot more than he gives him credit for. He's a lot closer to and more equal to Snorpy. Snorpy doesn't have to spend and sacrifice every fiber of his being to the bugsnax to protect who he loves.

That being said, who he is has nothing to do with his character arc. He's Snorpy, he's a nerd, he is an engineer. None of this is brought into question. Floofty's very status of "grumpus" is called into question through their experiments. (on an esoteric level. kinda. bugsnax are weird.)

What they share is their interactions with other grumpuses and how important actually letting themselves connect with others is... but that's something Everyone shares at least a little.

How does this relate to transgender headcanons? Floofty's arc features their identity very heavily, and calling the identity of the self into question is extremely transgender. Sometimes the definition of transgender. At the very least, a part of the process. (everyone is different)

That's why I think Shelda, Chandlo, and Wiggle are so popular for trans headcanons despite not necessarily doing anything outside their gender's norms. Their arcs heavily have to do with who they are and how their actions reflect that. Gramble and Triffany have a little bit of this but I can't rule out their gender non-comformity as the reason.

Of course, everyone is transgender to at least one person in the fandom because there's nothing proving anyone is cis and this fandom is very very queer.

[totoanime52]

MY THOUGHTS ON THE FINALE OF MY HERO ACADEMIA (LONG, SO BE PREPARED)

So the manga has finally (unofficially) come to an end. With the release of 430's leaks we see how the young heroes have grown over eight years in a timeskip. I'll give my thoughts on the final chapter here before I give my overall thoughts on the series in another post.

First and foremost, I was actually quite happy to see that Horikoshi didn't push pairings into the mix and kept the focus on the characters doing their hero work. As I mentioned on a previous post, I don't like how frequent it is that a series makes the entire last chapter of their story basically dedicated to making sure certain pairings are canon (usually by introducing us to their kids in their own little stories) rather than devoting it to the themes or characters of the world they crafted for years. I often feel like they could have spent more time focusing on an issue or expanding characters more. An example is Naruto: I wanted the last chapter of Naruto to be about our boy's inauguration as Hokage, since that is what the series was pretty much building up to. I would have cried to see Naruto finally take up the mantle of Hokage after seeing how far he has come. Instead, we are pretty much preparing for Boruto's sequel story by being introduced to all the kids and setting up their stories (and you can't imagine my anger when I later found out Naruto canonically missed his inauguration for the sake of a damn joke). Here, we actually focus on how Midoriya is coping with being Quirkless again while still trying to encourage others to follow their own dreams, as well as how the other characters are working in this world. Seeing how Midoriya had originally taken the role of a teacher at UA in this chapter even though he did lose OFA eventually was kind of sweet, especially seeing how some students still admired him (including a now UA student Kota!!). I know that isn't where his story ends, but I'll get to that part in a bit.

We also see how Uraraka is focusing her efforts on changing Quirk counseling to focus more on helping those with different mental states rather than trying to make them conform to 'normality.' Even though I am still not happy with Toga's death, at least Uraraka is trying to make sure that at least one of the major sources of pain in Toga's life cannot harm another child like it did to her.

The fact that the ranking system is still around eight years later is maddening. When it mentioned how Dynamight yelling at a civilian for pushing a camera into his face will cause his rank to drop, I thought three things: 1. Who should give a shit about the rankings anymore?; 2. I wouldn't be happy if someone pushed a camera in my face while I'm working, especially if it involves something that requires focus and can be dangerous; 3. This is Dynamight, they should know his personailty by now so what did they expect to happen? I know Keigo is trying, but as long as that system is in place, it will still make the whole hero career in general more of a competitive popularity contest than a collaborative function.

Finally, we see how Izuku's story reaches it's end, at least on paper: All Might gives him his old hero costume case from school (with 18 right on the front) and tells him that Bakugou and the others from class A (note: it still feels weird not saying 1A anymore) have pooled money in over the past eight years to fund the creation of support items for Izuku so he can officially take up the mantle of the hero Deku again. This time, we see Bakugou hold his hand out to Izuku; turns out he really did mean it when he said he wanted them to keep competing with each other for the rest of their lives (*coughtsunderecough*). As Deku once again adorns his hero suit, he sees what looks like a ghost of Shigaraki Tomura watching him. The last panel of the manga shows the present day Class A students, now officially heroes.

I do like how Izuku remains Quirkless in the end. Despite him now having the means to pick his hero career back up, it doesn't change the fact that One For All is still gone forever. There was no miraculous reawakening of it or anything, but a work-around was found with the use of support items. Deku is now a Quirkless Hero, so perhaps this may help the rest of the 20% in the world that they can still chase their dreams. The fact that Class A dedicated eight years of funds to help Izuku keep his dream is also kind of heartwarming, especially when they were busy with their own lives and work, as well.

As for Shigaraki's ghost, I kind of have mixed feelings about that. I'm happy that Izuku still thinking about him after eight years. Maybe this is a way that Horikoshi is trying to say that his failure to save Shigaraki still haunts him and will continue to haunt him. Maybe it means that Shigaraki will keep watching Deku to see if he will be able to keep that spirit despite the failures behind him and the unknowns ahead of him (like a "Okay, Hero, let's see if you still have the ability to save others even after you couldn't save me" in that sarcastic way). I still wish there was a way that Tomura or any of the main villain trio could have been saved with how it was set up, so this little snippet of him still makes me sad to know that never happened.

Overall, the final chapter was better than I was expecting. While I still have issues with how Horikoshi chose to handle (or in the rankings case, NOT handle) some of the problems in the world of BNHA, I like how he kept the story on Izuku's dream of becoming a hero, something he was sure would never happen in the beginning and, near the end, would never happen again.

The fact that he kept their futures open to our interpretations in terms of where they will take their personal lives is quite nice to see, especially in regards to shipping. I feel like when official pairings are made, especially ones made last minute in stories like many shounen manga, most of the time it invites bragging, people putting others down, or just straight up fights in the fandom (it honestly scares me just how viscous some people can be over a fictional pairing). By keeping it open, at the very least it prevents some of the more extreme parts of the pairing fandom from claiming superiority over others. Anyway, sorry for the tangent at the end, but this is something that always irked me, especially in stories where romance wasn't a main theme.

Sidenote: seeing Eri growing up, smiling, and in a music club with her friends is the most beautiful thing. She's come so far and it's so cute how music became a passion for her after it was the catalyst for giving her back her smile.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting my parents to get me a nice PC?

no real fighting or anything happened, this is mostly so I can grapple with my own brain about it. I'll also avoid talking about general past parental abuse since that feels largely irrelevant/extraneous to the current question :P I (24ftm) am still living with my parents since the pandemic left me unemployed and I don't make enough money off my hobbies to actually go anywhere. I have been slowly starting to go back to college (after experiencing immense trauma from getting forced into college full time by the parents at 17) which my parents have been very receptive of, if not annoyed that I'm staunchly refusing to go back full time. I'm generally grateful that they've housed me as long as they have.

As a more mature adult now I do feel that I *can* return full time, or at least part time rather than my current one class a semester pattern, but there's one single problem with that— the classes i need to take to get the degree i want (technical design, which requires classes on 3D modeling and related) all require a more heavy duty computer than what I currently have, which is a dinky 4gb ram laptop I've had since at *least* 2017 that takes 20 minutes just to open a browser, and slow as molasses when I'm trying to use more than two applications at once. My parents agreed to pay for it using money from my college fund on a few conditions (such as cleaning out my bedroom to make space for it which I've been trying to do, but ADHD has made it embarrassingly difficult)

however, when I bring up the PC in any conversation, especially where i try to bring up that i need it for any classes i want to take in the future, my parents seem very upset. They accuse me of making that fact up since I've only been taking one class each semester, calling it unfair and accusing me of only wanting it to "goof off with my friends" (verbatim) and don't seem to understand the laptop *physically cannot handle* the programs that classes require, and I can hardly get a word in edgewise. It's been a nonstop feedback loop of saying I need a better PC for more classes, but getting told i cant get a better PC because i'm not taking more classes, subsequently not taking more classes because i don't have a better PC, rinse and repeat. I've been trying to explain, but they genuinely won't even listen to me.

I feel spiteful that my parents aren't understanding, and even more bitter when they've been buying thousand dollar TVs for themselves and whole new appliances for my older sibling (28mtf) who's moved out (she's the favorite sibling by a mile lol), so i know their hesitance isn't from a monetary standpoint (not to mention I said I'd be willing to pull from my own college fund for it). But I also feel guilty like I'm asking too much, or that I'm just making this problem up in my head, or that my parents are being generous in even offering/agreeing in the first place and I'm just being greedy. I have yet to fully confront them on it, but it's driving me insane with weird mixed emotions. so I just want to know if I'm being an entitled baby or if I really should be persistent on this topic.

What are these acronyms?

[rroketa]

Working in art requires a lot of networking, as a socially awkward lil guy that has a hard time ever asking for anything (including even attention) I struggle at it, but still try my best. The result of it, for now, is all I've discovered is how underprivilged I can be.

I think to the simplest things first. As someone who has finished higher education on government funding I am required to work and pay taxes to my country. Working as a freelancer requires me to register my own business, and I pay taxes for it myself because no one I know personally has experience in this. So my job extends from 'simply' art to accounting and legal work. Add marketing when it comes to running social media pages and selling merchandise. Back to taxes, I start a conversation with one of the more 'succesful' local artists about taxes, as he's mentioned registering his business last year as well so companies have less legal problems sending payment. In the last month the minimum requirement for taxes had suddenly raised, causing me huge stress because suddenly I owed money I didn't know I did. I had some of my deposits to be 'arrested' for a while, and had no idea what that meant and how soon the problem would be fixed. It was fixed, no worries. The man I called to confirm if my additional payments had went through told me that a lot of people had problems with taxes this month. I crack a joke to another artist, hoping to spark a conversation that might be relatable, joking if they had any problems with taxes last month. He looks at me confused and tells me he doesn't know anything about that. He has an aunt that works in accounting. She handles all that.

[non-socialbutterfly]

I keep thinking about the silliness of Danny meeting the Na'vi and internally freaking out because of his ghost sense going off 24/7. So I had a few thoughts on how this crossover would work with intertwined lore of both:

Going based off the whole idea that certain ghost are Neverborn, created out of strong enough belief by large groups of people who's emotions and beliefs cause ambient ectoplasm to form a sentient being. Ewya was born out of the strong belief by many that we are not alone in the universe. So the generations of belief of life beyond our planet inadvertently caused ectoplasm to form a planet, a planet capable of sustaining life.

Na'vi don't just pop into existence, they too are results of evolution over the course of thousands of years. Their connection is Ewya is do to essentially being a byproduct of her. The strangest way I can describe it is how we shed off deadskin, Ewya is the source and the Na'vi are the organisms created from her shedding off ectoplasm. Sure that shedding was just single cell life forms, but they evolved to be greater life forms. Evolved to be shedded ectoplasm with their own cultures.

Because they are a byproduct of her and return to her after death, they don't show up in the Infinite Realms. Ewya herself could show up in the Infinite Realms, but that would require a portal large enough for a planet to fit through. So if Ewya was to die, generations of Na'vi consciousness will die with her. Without the records of the planet made by the RDA, it would be as though neither ever existed.

I'm thinking that Vlad may be involved with providing funding for the RDA, he may be curious if Unobtanium is useful in whatever gadet of the month he builds to mess with Danny. He may even sway the RDA with large donations and his own background in engineering to be allowed a trip to Pandora. If money and his resume doesn't work, he can always overshadow them to make himself authorization papers.

I can imagine he probably mentions the RDA to Maddie, thinking he can seduce her with a science flex. This greatly backfires as Jack overhears and now they both want to know more. Vlad would probably make up a long-haul plan on the spot of overshadowing higher-ups to get Jack and Maddie authorized to go with him. He'll evil cackle in a room alone, making some convoluted plan of rigging someone to make Jack die on Pandora so he can have Maddie to himself.

It's a gamble if Danny is already up there doing his own thing while secretly sabotaging the RDA. It would be pretty funny for Vlad to try and flex his connections just for Jack to say something like "Oh! Danny-O is up there too! Oh wouldn't it be a blast for him to work with his Godfather!" Vlad is not amused.

[wolfnanaki]

Do you know if the developers that got screwed over IWHTG were compensated since the document came out? I keep coming across fans of its creator acting as if nothing happened, trying to shove the game down people's throats whenever GVH is mentioned by someone that hasn't blocked them.

Short answer: No, probably not.

Long answer: Cavemanon released a response claiming they had done nothing wrong and that everyone who refused payment had done so voluntarily. They ignored the parts of the doc that discussed how getting compensation for their work required 1) signing a NDA contract, and 2) doxing themselves for a crazy transphobic Mormon 4channer in Texas. That was a risk people were understandably not willing to take. Not to mention Nerd and co. told the younger, less experienced devs it would be "greedy" of them to ask for payment on a passion project... one that he stood to make a lot of money from.

The response also stated that half the funds for Wani are going to the heads of the studio while the rest is being set aside for their next project. And without any proof they're even working on that next title, Exit 665, basically that means Nerd and the rest are hoarding all the game's profits until proven otherwise. For reference, Gamalytic estimates that Wani has sold 20k copies at time of writing, which means Cavemanon has made about $300k from it, while the people who made the game were given maybe $100 for over two years of work, if they were lucky.

In the time since the document's release and the official response, Nerd and his friends have successfully convinced their fandom that the dox was a hoax written by me to defame them, completely leaving out that it was put together by their own former devs and all I did was share it.

[pocketramblr]

Thanks for that answer and while I'm not fond of Toshi dying, I am curious about a canon divergence where he and AFO both go down in an act of mutual annihilation during their first battle (and AFO won't get recovered), if only for the consequences. If you're willing to do that one, I'd love to hear it, but if AM dying is a hard no, could you perhaps do an AU where AFO dies for real + consequences?

mmm, yes, how about some middle ground- AfO and All Might both die in the first fight, but Toshinori Yagi survives, barely.

1- Toshi drags AfO's corpse behind him as he goes to recon with Gran and Sir. One For All is fading, slipping out of his fingers, and he grips AfO tighter to try and hold it in. It doesn't prevent his strength from leaving, but it keeps AfO's body from being snatched. Sir is stunned and horrified by the sight, his trembling call of 'All Might?' ignored. Gran breaks through and takes the corpse from him only after he says in a voice more gentle than he's used in years that "It's done, Toshinori."

2- Gran leaves to take care of the body. Sir gets Toshinori to the hospital. He's in critical state for days. When he finally wakes up, the blood's been all washed off. He says that All For One is dead, and so is One For All. He meets Sir's eyes. "You looked?" He asks. Sir looks down. "Only to see if you'd wake up." Planning All Might's funeral, after all, would have required a lot of time. But Toshinori sighs, and says they'll still need that funeral, and Sir, as his sidekick, gets the agency. Sir says he'll just do the paperwork to get the money where Toshi wants it sent, and only for three years. Toshi wonders if he's been given a prediction, but doesn't ask.

3- Toshinori spends a lot of time on I-island in his retirement. David is one of the few people he has, after all, and once he is firm in his retirement and official death, Dave is just happy that he's alive and returning his hug to put other thoughts out of his mind for a while. Only a while, though- Dave knows the power vacuum and crime surge that's ramping up. Toshinori can't fight it anymore, but he's strategic and has a lot of intel on villains in japan, and the two of them make plans and send support to the heroes back home. It helps, a little bit.

4- But Toshinori can’t stay on I-island, even if he feels most helpful there, even if Dave and Melissa’s guest room is all but his. Nana died for Japan, and he sacrificed a lot for it too, and it’s easier to keep an eye on things there. So a lot of movement back and forth. He didn’t die after three years. Sir makes his own agency, and it’s strained but not without contact. Toshinori is tired. The world keeps changing and won’t let him rest. But, one visit to I-island, Melissa mentions that there’s a new student at the academy, a freshman who’s quirkless and from Japan. Izuku Midoriya, she thinks he and her uncle would get along.

5- so, the ripples: Because of increased crime, Inko and Izuku leave Japan to go join Hisashi working abroad, which is stressful but eventually Izuku wins entrance into I-island’s academy, the closest he could get to heroics as no schools near his new home accepted quirkless students and his parents refused to return to Japan. Endeavor, thrust into the Number One position six years early, has much less time to be home and Shoto is glad. When Fuyumi turns eighteen, she quietly asks her father for an allowance and an apartment away to watch her brothers in. Enji, two years into this change, agrees. Bakugou and Tsubasa are the two students from Aldera Middle to make it to UA High- they haven’t seen Deku since he moved away in other school, and haven’t thought about him for a couple of years. They’re close, though, as the orphanage Tsubasa lived in closed due to lack of funding and Tsubasa’s been crashing on his couch more often than not, which is not exactly a healthy environment but is better than going in the nomu soup. Mina comes across a giant man who’s sniffing around insisting that he smells All Might, that he's still here, still alive, he needs to find him. Mina watches him investigate a building that looks run down and abandoned until a short old man walks by, says he's dead, but the building is where he used to live, historic location, can’t torn down for it. The giant keeps insisting that he’s alive, the scent fresh. Mina tells him she wishes All Might was alive too, but she going to be a hero inspired by- the man lashes out, angry, and Kirishima can’t help but watches as the old man moves quickly, and the next thing he knows he’s sitting next to Mina as the police drive the giant away and the EMTs look over his friend, who’s alright but going to have a much more heroic scar than him. They promise to be heroes and have each other’s back. When they get to UA, their class looks different, fewer people each year take the entrance exam, though still more than most other schools. Hawks is exhausted as his rise through the top heroes is planned to emulate All Might’s. He had to make top ten before he was twenty, to beat Endeavor’s record, and sometime between his twenty fifth and twenty sixth birthday he knows he’s going to hit number one, burning through more and more official cases to get the number he needs. It’s not hard, with crime rates rising, even if it’s not going up as sharply as David and Toshi feared. The Yakuza is even making a comeback, as much as vigilante Stendhal tries to fight it, and Chisaki Kai’s sister is not allowed to leave the family to get married, too much risk. She resents this and slips some secrets to Giran, who’s curious about her adopted brother’s quirks- a shame his old patron isn’t around anymore, but he's got an annoying nineteen year old Tomura upstairs in his loft who tracked him down years ago, leading a mostly unresponsive Kurogiri by the hand, demanding to know why he’s been abandoned and how to fix the only caretaker he has left.