#since I think that it's crucial for people to realize

[great-and-small]

When I was in vet school I went to this one lecture that I will never forget. Various clubs would have different guest lecturers come in to talk about relevant topics and since I was in the Wildlife Disease Association club I naturally attended all the wildlife and conservation discussions. Well on this particular occasion, the speakers started off telling us they had been working on a project involving the conservation of lemurs in Madagascar. Lemurs exist only in Madagascar, and they are in real trouble; they’re considered the most endangered group of mammals on Earth. This team of veterinarians was initially assembled to address threats to lemur health and work on conservation solutions to try and save as many lemur species from extinction as possible. As they explored the most present dangers to lemurs they found that although habitat loss was the primary problem for these vulnerable animals, predation by humans was a significant cause of losses as well. The vets realized it was crucial for the hunting of lemurs by native people to stop, but of course this is not so simple a problem.

The local Malagasy people are dealing with extreme poverty and food insecurity, with nearly half of children under five years old suffering from chronic malnutrition. The local people have always subsisted on hunting wildlife for food, and as Madagascar’s wildlife population declines, the people who rely on so-called bushmeat to survive are struggling more and more. People are literally starving.

Our conservation team thought about this a lot. They had initially intended to focus efforts on education but came to understand that this is not an issue arising from a lack of knowledge. For these people it is a question of survival. It doesn’t matter how many times a foreigner tells you not to eat an animal you’ve hunted your entire life, if your child is starving you are going to do everything in your power to keep your family alive.

So the vets changed course. Rather than focus efforts on simply teaching people about lemurs, they decided to try and use veterinary medicine to reduce the underlying issue of food insecurity. They supposed that if a reliable protein source could be introduced for the people who needed it, the dependence on meat from wildlife would greatly decrease. So they got to work establishing new flocks of chickens in the most at-risk communities, and also initiated an aggressive vaccination program for Newcastle disease (an infectious illness of poultry that is of particular concern in this area). They worked with over 600 households to ensure appropriate husbandry and vaccination for every flock, and soon found these communities were being transformed by the introduction of a steady protein source. Families with a healthy flock of chickens were far less likely to hunt wild animals like lemurs, and fewer kids went hungry. Thats what we call a win-win situation.

This chicken vaccine program became just one small part of an amazing conservation outreach initiative in Madagascar that puts local people at the center of everything they do. Helping these vulnerable communities of people helps similarly vulnerable wildlife, always. If we go into a country guns-blazing with that fire for conservation in our hearts and a plan to save native animals, we simply cannot ignore the humans who live around them. Doing so is counterintuitive to creating an effective plan because whether we recognize it or not, humans and animals are inextricably linked in many ways. A true conservation success story is one that doesn’t leave needy humans in its wake, and that is why I think this particular story has stuck with me for so long.

(Source 1)

(Source 2- cool video exploring this initiative from some folks involved)

(Source 3)

[dabisqueen]

Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader

⇢ word count: roughly 7K

⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare

⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr

"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."

They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.

You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin. 

Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.

They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed. 

You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.

You sigh. 

Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.

You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.

After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"

"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"

"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.

He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.

Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.

You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.

What the hell just happened? 

***

The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.

As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls. 

You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look. 

You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows. 

There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.

You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards. 

Alright, here goes nothing.

***

The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.

The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.

Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.

"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.

A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.

"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.

The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours. 

Shit. 

He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants. 

Speaking of bulge. 

It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically. 

Stop it!

You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.

But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams. 

Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.

As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression. 

“Not her again.” You hear him groan.

The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”

"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."

The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”

Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"

“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.

“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.

“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.

You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set. 

“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”

“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.

You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated. 

“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.

"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”

Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”

“Dabi, she's the most requested—” 

“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”

You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second. 

“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”

He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”

“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”

Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.

"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you. 

You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.

"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.

"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes. 

The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"

"Yep. Her." His grin widens.

"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"

"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"

"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"

Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.

Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.

The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"

Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually. 

Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."

"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.

"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"

"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.

"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."

He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."

He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"

It is your voice.

"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."

"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.

Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"

"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."

"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."

"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."

"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.

"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"

Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”

"That’s none of your business."

"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."

“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."

“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"

"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.

“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.

"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."

"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.

Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.” 

“You what?" His words leave you stunned.

Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”

His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach. 

“In front of all these people?!" 

“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.

You swallow hard.

"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting. 

You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college. 

This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.

"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.

“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”

Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.

"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take." 

"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”

“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”

“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.

“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.

“Not really.” He winks.

"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”

“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.

"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"

“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.

"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.

“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both. 

Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.

“Sound?”

“Set.”

“Camera?”

“Set.”

“Roll sound.”

“Sound rolling.”

“Roll camera.” 

“Camera Speed.” 

“Marker.”

A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever." 

Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence. 

You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.

“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.

“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally. 

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.

It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—

—but in anticipation. 

“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.

You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.

You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.

You groan—how could a man taste so good?

It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back. 

As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"

The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.

The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.

Holy shit.

He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.

The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.

The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”

You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear. 

“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”

Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.

“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”

He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. 

It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.

“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”

While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.

"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."

A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place. 

"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"

You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.

“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.” 

His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.

“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes. 

The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands. 

"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."

You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—

—but this just feels so much more intense.

“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass, 

raising your hips to have more access to you. 

“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you. 

You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you. 

“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you. 

“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.

A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung. 

He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.

As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released. 

“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.

With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.

You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes. 

Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.  

Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—

—no.

He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.

It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that. 

Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth. 

“Dabi, please—” you choke out.

Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”

You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones. 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.

You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced. 

You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed. 

“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction. 

“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.

“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”

Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.  

"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit. 

“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.

“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”

“I'm not sure,” you whisper.

“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated. 

He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.

“Get ready,” he whispers.

A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.

“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.” 

The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you. 

"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.

There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you. 

“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face. 

“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...

"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that. 

Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently. 

“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”

Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel. 

He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.

“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”

“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.

He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss. 

It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm. 

His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.

Dabi snaps. 

With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.

Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears. 

But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice. 

"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.

Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up. 

“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”

You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still. 

“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”

"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises. 

And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once. 

You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock. 

“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”

You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.

“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below. 

Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.

You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”

‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.

You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions. 

“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.

Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.

You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado. 

“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.

Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.

A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.

Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage. 

Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it. 

“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’ 

You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”

“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”

He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.

“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.

“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.

“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.

“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.

When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace. 

“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”

“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”

“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”

[hansoeii]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day/night! I absolutely adore your art, you are one of my favourite artists. I love the way you shade and do backrounds. Also everytime I get into a new show I immediately see your art for it??

I was wondering if you had any advice on drawing more realistically (backrounds, anatomy etc) but still keeping a style?

Hey hey!

Thank you so much!

I have a pretty good understanding of facial structures, because before I got into drawing more semi-realisticly, I heavily focused on realistic portraits. Here are some example, these are from around 2019!

(yes, I was really into danmei and kpop back then, haha)

I just always loved drawing/painting faces and it was all I did. But at some point I realized that I wanted to do more than that because just portraits felt super restricting. So it took me around 2-3 years to somewhat find my style. Thought it would be fun to show a little timeline! Advice will follow afterwards :)

2020

I began working on my OCs in 2020 and since I didn't have an exact reference to work off of, I struggled a lot. My art from this year is super wonky.

2021

Still wonky, but the Lokius obsession was the jumpstart into finding my style! My work from this year is all over the place haha, I was experimenting a lot.

2022

This first ofmd piece is pretty much the first drawing where you can see where my style is gonna go, which I think is pretty cool! This is the year I made the biggest progress cos I was drawing SO much. These two pieces are only six months apart. The one on the right was the first time I gave drawing a background a proper go, too! It was a good year.

2023

And this is where I am now! I'm still constantly learning and improving, but I'd say I have a style you can recognize now!

Now here comes some actual advice, haha:

What I highly recommend you to do is to study your favorite artists as much as you can! I have like 5 A4 sketchbooks all from 2020 that I filled with sooooo many studies, where basically all I did was look at artists I like and copy how they draw stuff, to try and figure out how to stylize certain things. Some of my favorite artists are Ami Thompson, Velinxi and TB Choi. But I also liked to just scroll through pinterest and study all the art I came across that I liked! For example, if I saw a really great drawing of a pair of pants I would copy it many times in my sketchbook and try to learn how they stylized the folds. Doing this for a prolongued period of time will naturally improve your own work! It'll be difficult at first, but you gotta push through, it's gonna be worth it!

I also highly recommend studying unique faces to try and avoid the same-face syndrome. Find some cool looking people and try to draw them as simple as you can! Maybe even draw a little timeline where you first draw them as cartoon-y as you can, and keep going until you end up with a more detailed, realistic drawing. Maybe in the middle of it you find a step that feels the most fun to you, so you can try to build on that! It's a great way to figure out what kind of style might be the best for you.

Here are some cool faces I found on pinterest!

I have a pinterest board with many more!

One REALLY important part of learning how to draw all kinds of things is to understand forms and shapes and how to manipulate them. I have so many pages in my sketchbook filled with just shapes that I drew from all kinds of angles without any references.

This is a great video on it:

6 Ways to Draw Anything by Proko

Learning how to do this is so crucial! Young artists often think they first have to learn all kinds of detailed anatomy before doing anything else, but all that's gonna do is make you tired and hate drawing. Shapes are where it's at! Once you understand how shapes work and which ones to use for certain parts of bodies or objects, drawing is gonna get so much easier! Once you understand them, you can get into details such as muscles and bones!

And honestly the most important point is to just absolutely love what you're doing! I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for the fact that I get extreme hyperfixations on certain media that turn me into some kind of beast where I can suddenly draw 10 detailed illustrations a week, haha. Just be passionate about what you do, find something you REALLY love and go crazy!

I really hope this was somewhat helpful! My inbox is always open if there's any more questions :)

[esotericc-angel]

is manifesting hard?

no.

manifesting is not hard at all. lots of people like to think that manifesting is hard because they claim that they've been affirming for "so long" and they "haven't seen any motion in the 3D". they fail to manifest things for 2 (main) reasons:

not realizing that they are always manifesting: you've been manifesting and bringing the thoughts (that you believe to be true) into your 3D reality since you've been born pretty much. before you found out what conscious manifestation was, (manifesting with intention) you manifested everything you have seen and not seen into the 3D reality every single day of your life. and even right this moment, you are bringing things into your reality wether its subconscious manifestation or conscious manifestation, wether you realize it or not, you will always be manifesting.

not realizing that the 3D is a dead mirror: like i keep saying, you are god because you can change any part of your life at any moment. so what you are seeing now may be unfavorable to you because its your old assumptions. you have been affirming that you have a bad life, thus you believing yourself, and as a byproduct, you seeing and experiencing it in the 3D. the 3D will not change until you change your thoughts. the 3D really means nothing if you think about it. its very crucial to not even worry about the 3D and the things you are experiencing currently, (because they are just your old assumptions being projected) and focus on your imagination, (thoughts and affirmations) its so important to focus on saturating your mind, feeling fulfilled with your desire, and believing your desires as true, and as a BYPRODUCT, you will experience the thing in the 3D physical reality.

so moral of the story is to be delusional and get everything you want.

[lotus-tower]

it is horrific what we’re allowing to happen to children right now. if covid causes cognitive dysfunction and decline in adult brains, what impact will it have on small brains that are still developing? many children who are too young to even be vaccinated are catching covid, as well as a whole host of other opportunistic infections. children can get, are getting, long covid. children aren’t sick often because it’s “normal” or “good” for them—they’re sick often because they’re more vulnerable than adults.

children have no choice but to be sent to schools where they get sick again and again. they don’t have the ability to distance themselves from their parents and establish boundaries, they’re entirely reliant on their carers. if their parents do not believe in covid prevention, they have no means to protect themselves. they don’t have the ability to consent to what is happening to their health.

schools are not just allowing children who are sick to attend class anyway, they’re borderline mandating it. schools as an institution care more about meaningless attendance records than about students’ wellbeing. the classroom is an environment where all factors incentivize students coming to school sick.

there are horrific accounts from parents about kids being sick 24/7, never having energy, struggling with schoolwork. there are horrific accounts from teachers about their young students being different these days, unable to handle the usual schoolwork, showing signs of that classic covid “brainfog.” i’ve seen evidence of schools making their tests and criteria much easier in order to maintain an acceptable pass rate instead of addressing the actual core problem in the slightest.

i often think about a comment i read once about how someone knew it was fucked when no change happened after sandy hook, when the US decided and enshrined the fact that children were acceptable sacrifices. this is how it feels. this isn’t just about the US though. children are getting reinfected with covid again and again worldwide. this is about the entire next generation.

they didn’t choose any of this. they have no power to stop this whatsoever. none of us consented to this, obviously, but children most of all. most of them don’t even have any idea what’s happening to them, and won’t for years.

there needs to be a push for schools to adopt better covid prevention measures, like better ventilation and air filtration. but even more crucial, and much more difficult, is to do away with the ideology at the core of how schools are designed. just like how workers deserve sick leave, children need to be able to stay home when sick. no jumping through hoops for a doctor’s note to be accepted, no strict time limit. schools obviously know that 1 student staying home sick is less disruptive than 20 students being sick and unable to do their schoolwork. they know the math, but they aren’t after efficiency. just like companies know that happier workers are more productive. that’s not the point. it’s more obvious than ever what is choking our societies to death on every level.

i’ve seen university unions who’ve won teachers the right to demand masking in their lessons, the right to have air filters installed in their classrooms. the same needs to happen for K12 schools, especially since young children can’t advocate for themselves. parents could theoretically wield a lot of influence as well—but let’s face it, most are uninterested in or actively hostile to the idea of better air for their children. efforts to combat this need to be organized, sustained, and coordinated.

imagine how current children will feel once they grow up and look back and realize that their health was compromised before they even learned to speak, that they were born into a sick world, that they were born to be sick, not inevitably but because people preferred things this way.

[beaulesbian]

I've been thinking about the Whiskey Peak Luffy vs Zoro fight and how nothing is truly finished or contained within just one arc in One Piece - where the themes and character development always overlap and span over many later arcs as well.

It's an interesting scene, and I feel it's almost impossible to dissect that fight just within that arc alone - like it wasn't meant to be taken seriously by itself at that time, but later with more context of what's to come after that.

A short version: It's a great set up of how the trust between Luffy and Zoro would develop after this fight.

Specifically, how it gets to this in Skypiea:

And a longer version under the read more:

To start at the beginning again - Luffy knew about Zoro's reputation by the time he reached Shells Town and heard about him as Demon Pirate Hunter of the East Blue, and decided to see if he's a good guy to have on his crew.

Once Luffy freed Zoro and they took down Morgan together, they could see how the other was similary strong, as well as they were able to fight in sync and well together, but maybe they still didn't understand how much they could depend on each other.

With Luffy, anyone who offers him food becomes something like his hero. If they offer him hospitality, he would protect them with his life.

With Zoro, he's always looking out for the danger, used to travel alone (or with just Johnny and Yosaku), he does what's needed, and usually without telling the others.

And this is, I think, that crucial moment when they realize this about each other -

Luffy wakes up and sees the people who helped him lying on the ground, and telling him that Zoro was the one who did that. Luffy goes berserk without needing to hear why, because there shouldn't be a reason why. Whatever Zoro tells him must be a lie, right? He must have gone mad.

Maybe if Zoro didn't fight back, Luffy would see something was wrong, but Zoro isn't one to back down from a fight, especially when being falsely accused, and if he saw that Luffy was fighting him for real, he in turn would give him the same courtesy. They're both very stubborn in the same way.

The misunderstanding trope can be a bit annoying, but I think it's all just to see them actually fight together on equal footing. It was one of the first examples of what they can do together.

After this fight, where they defeat the two Baroque Works agents together, and after everything is explained, Luffy understands, in his own way.

When rereading this part of "I thought you got mad (...)", I had a feeling that Luffy might have even think Zoro could become a danger to others and was ready to just.. contain him. He heard about him as a demon pirate hunter - of course, those where a lot of talking from the Marine's side of the story perpetuating the myth of him, Zoro never called himself that and Luffy knows it, but part of me thinks maybe Luffy wouldn't care about that - he just wanted Zoro on his crew no matter what, and would deal with the consequences after that. Like in Whiskey Peak.

But what's even more interesting is, since this fight, they began to understand how they work separately.

I kind of like that they don't come back or talk more about this fight, because once it's done, they're past that. But both take it as a learning experience, Luffy still has a long journey to go as a captain, and I feel with knowing what Zoro does without saying, Luffy began finding the footing as captain with putting this specific trust in Zoro - learning he can fully depend on him to protect their crew when something would be amiss, when some danger would be nearby.

And that despite the sudden fight, the bad communication and the immediate resolve, Zoro sees another most important part of Luffy's character - how far he would go to help someone who offered him food or helped Luffy and his crew. And this knowledge has helped Zoro many times since this arc, in situation where the rest of the crew might not understand Luffy's thinking, Zoro's usually the first one who does understand.

On Jaya, that trust takes the main role when Luffy orders Zoro not to fight Bellamy's crew:

Later on Skypiea Luffy says it out loud how much he trusts Zoro to protect the rest of the crew:

It goes on each arc more and more, subtle but with that trust between them deepening.

With Zoro letting Luffy know being their captain is hard but he cannot falter,

in Post Enies Lobby it's Zoro telling him what rules need to be followed, otherwise the crew would fall apart,

It feels since that Whiskey Peak fight, Zoro really took it onto himself to protect the crew without having to say so, and Luffy understood that's what he does. It's Zoro's instinct to do that - Skypiea protecting Robin and Chopper, Thriller Bark - protecting Brook, saving Sanji and of course Luffy from Kuma. On Punk Hazard, while Luffy is against Ceasar, Zoro fights Monet so Nami and Robin could get away. On Dressrosa his final fight against Pica is to protect Usopp and Kinemon.

I also like this bit on Zou, where Zoro doesn't enjoy the Minks' attention on him, and Luffy reprimands him that it's rude to talk back to someone who's hosting a feast for them. Again, kind of a callback to Whiskey Peak, ch. 807

And then there's whole Wano, with Zoro protecting Tama, Otoko and Yasuie, Hiyori, and it gets very personal when they're hurt.

During Onigashima Raid he keeps reminding Luffy that he would go with him up to the rooftop to fight Kaido, because this time the enemies are too dangerous and he needs to protect Luffy as well. And they both protect each other there:

Conclusion: I love the Whiskey Peak fight now, because it brings up many small details that are so important over the span of many arcs later, slowly showing just how different these two are built and how much trust they learnt to put in the other.

bonus:

On their way to Enies Lobby on the train, this scene looks very similar to their Whiskey Peak fight, except this time they're intentionally using their strengths together against the Aqua Laguna.

Whiskey peak, ch. 112

Water Seven, ch. 367

[elysiansparadise]

Hi !! I was wondering if you could do Mars in the 10H? 🤍 I looked at your masterlist and read almost all of it— YES, I AM (HEALTHILY) OBSESSED WITH YOU 🍰, your page, content, aesthetic, etc— and I haven't seen the placement yet 🍓 I saw your post to ask the ones you may have not done yet.

Thank you so muchhh!! We appreciate your efforts to complete it 🤍

Awww, hello love! You are so sweet, thank you so much for your words. 🤍

Mars in the 10th house

Many of these natives have a strong desire for success, a need to be in control of their lives and not let anything or anyone seek to interfere in their affairs. Courageous, ambitious, cunning and strategic, many of them are good at long-term planning, however they will always prefer to act rather than continue drowning in excessive planning. For them it is important to be proud of themselves, they want to achieve things on their own and achieve their goals. Some of these natives have difficulty celebrating their achievements, they only feel relieved to have completed their tasks and wonder what’s next. They are competitive either with people who work with them or even with versions of themselves from the past, since there is a strong drive to want to improve themselves and be better than before. They do not believe that things magically happen, rather they seek to make them happen. They are decisive, they know perfectly well what they want and what they don't want to deal with. They are people who think what is necessary before deciding something. They can become recognized throughout their lives for their decision, their strength, courage and determination. People know they can't mess with them. They will not hesitate to defend themselves or those in their charge if they feel threatened, they do not care about gender or age, because if you want their respect, you have to earn it with actions.

They give the impression of being very self-confident, they have strong-willed and intimidating vibes, they are usually seen as sexy or seductive and attract a lot of attention, as they seem to be perfectly content without someone else. Their independence, will and attitude are seen as irresistible. They can attract attention easily, and many of them can attract without intending or realizing it people who compare themselves a lot with them and who compete with the natives. They never settle for the minimum and if they can aspire and have better things, they will go after it. It is difficult to take them by surprise because they are constantly alert. One of the things they hate the most and that provokes their anger is being compared to other people, people who spend their time complaining all the time without doing anything about it and people who don't take responsibility for their own actions. 

These natives find ambitious, hard-working people who take great care of their appearance attractive. They are attracted to the desire to get ahead and self-improve. Furthermore, for them it is crucial that more than just physical attraction and feelings of love, there is mutual admiration between them and their partners. They are very passionate and very sensual people in the most intimate sphere, they make sure to make their partner feel safe, confident in their bodies and very desired. Power can seem very attractive to them, from finding people in important positions attractive in whatever field they work in, to people who have this powerful vibe. High sex drive, they can become more attractive as the years go by. They are not afraid to be dominant or let their partners be dominant. They like the theme of one of the two being dominant. They like the idea of ​​taking things slowly, filling their partner with caresses, flooding them with pleasant and sensual sensations, for them it is crucial that both they and their partners enjoy the moment and not feel rushed or pressured.

-> Go back to the masterlist

[praisetheaxolotl]

The Arsonist Theory, Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire

Part 1: Mandibles!

Part 2: We Get It, The Billboard Was A Metaphor

Part 3: Journey To The Vicious Spiral Nebula

Welcome to the end.

Before we start, I just want to shine a light on some interpretations of the billboard in relation to part 2 of the theory right here, and an observation about "Trust no one" that relates to the theory right here.

Once again, for those new to the theory: it proposes that Bill wasn't alone in destroying his dimension-- he had a partner, one that used him like he used Ford. The previous three posts are crucial to understanding where I'm coming from with this.

This post will mostly be some miscellaneous things that I think could support the overall theory, honestly. So I'm just gonna get started with it. And, as always:

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL, INCLUDING CIPHERS

Let's finish this.

So, something that was in the original Arsonist Theory from years ago was that Bill, oddly enough, seemed afraid of his own fire powers. He never uses them in combat, even though it would be a major advantage to him to do so. In fact, he really only seems to use fire as little more than cosmetic flair, lighting his hand on fire to make deals and other situations like that. There are really only three times he uses his fire to directly effect the environment--

Ford's dream sequence, destroying the journals, and burning up the Cipher wheel in the finale.

It's a bit strange, though. All three of those times, he didn't use his signature blue flames. He used orange flames instead.

Another thing is, remember when he died? The second the room lit on fire, he panicked. He's a dream demon, he should have been able to get the hell out of there the second he realized something was wrong! He's not powerless in this situation, so why is he acting like he is? Unless, for some reason, something about the environment reminded him of a certain... other time he was surrounded by fire? A time where, unlike now, he was powerless? Curious!

That on its own doesn't support the theory directly, however it points to lingering trauma from the destruction of Euclidia regardless.

Now... I saw a theory that made an argument that the repeated motifs of "mandibles" points to the idea that Bill might have eaten his own family.

And honestly, I agree. But...

As another layer to it, we only know that Bill had a mutation that let him see the third dimension, along with most likely fire powers since birth. So where did this sudden interest in devouring people come from?

Maybe whoever was with him was the one that taught him it. The one that told him that consuming souls meant that you would never be alone, as they would always be inside of you forever. Because, to me, it seems like an odd leap from "wants to show everyone the third dimension" to "eating people as everything burns around him." So maybe, he was influenced by something? Someone?

And another thing: When Bill is dying, in the Book Of Bill, we see two ciphers on the page.

One of them is "AXOLOTL" over and over, as to be expected.

The other? "Just fit in."

That absolutely sounds like something Euclidia would have pushed upon him! Ergo, he was remembering Euclidia in that moment, ergo the fire did definitively remind him of Euclidia, ergo he seems to get flashbacks when he sees his own fire.

This next part is pure extrapolation, so bear with me here.

Bill, on one page, mentions a highlight of his glory days as being "disassociating, and waking up to find [he'd] conquered another dynasty." Score!

Except... disassociating? Think about it.

Bill had just made a mention to disassociation, implying that he knows that he does it and knows what it feels like for him when it happens.

But when he was talking about Euclidia... he says there's a "loud buzzing in [his] ears and [he] blacks out for 30 seconds."

If this was how his disassociation usually presented itself... wouldn't he just say so?

This doesn't sound like his usual denial, either. When Bill denies something, he remains perfectly cognizant of the events that occurred, merely twisting around some details and/or justifying it to himself.

...Remember back in part one, I said I'd discuss what Bill said about his weaknesses? About how he's been touchy about them ever since... something? And how the obvious interpretation is-- especially considering that he Gatsby's us after the memory gun is mentioned-- that he's touchy ever since the Pines defeated him?

Another thing this book teaches us is that multiple versions of the same object can exist. Mainly, there have been many different iterations of the portal over the centuries.

Perhaps... multiples of some other object can exist, and have existed, and have been used against Bill?

A loud buzzing in your ears. Do you know what makes a loud buzzing noise when it's used?

"No!" You're probably thinking.

"Yes," I say.

Okay, "Probably likely" I say, but that's not as good for dramatic flair.

Sure, the buzzing isn't that loud, but once it's up to your ear... it'd be plenty loud.

One of the ciphers regarding Bill says "EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES." Meaning, there's a secret, deeper layer to even his lies. Maybe it's that, at least here, this isn't necessarily a lie, moreso that he's operating under missing information.

And furthermore- Bill remembers some parts of what happened, judging by the text that wasn't blocked out, which does line up with how the memory gun works-- at the end of the clip, McGucket makes a reference to Bill himself, the very thing he wanted to forget.

And wouldn't that be another instance of some kind of damaging cycle? Something took away Bill's memories, now Bill has stolen the memories of another? I know, I know, it's kind of a long shot.

But you have to admit, it is interesting to think about.

Now, there might be one final thing you might be wanting from me.

If Bill was someone's accomplice, who is the bigger fish?

And to that I say...

I have no fucking idea.

Not a single clue. Bill says on his "weaknesses" page that anyone whose figured out his weaknesses haven't lived to tell the tale, but that's already verifiably false with Stan still being alive, and with the added bonus of his memory possibly being tampered with... are we sure?

I'm... not sure if the thisisnotawabsitedotcom.com lost files will have anything to do with Euclidia or not. I'm not sure what they'll be at all, honestly.

But at the end of the day, I do think this theory holds some sort of ground and is an interesting angle (pun intended) of looking at Bill's past.

Hope you all liked the theorizing, folks! Let's all wait for that countdown!!

[pallisia]

Hey gg. I've always loved making up stories and drawing and thanks to you and the works you've recommended, I learned that being sincere in telling stories is one of the most crucial parts. I still get nervous when I show my stuff to others, though. Does that ever get any better? How have you dealt with harsh criticisms (whether you thought they were justified or not)? In any case, thank you so much for Soulsov and everything that came before it! You're a huge inspiration!

i don't think that gets any better. even for someone who has always enjoyed recognition like me, showing sincere work to others is a daunting thing. sincerity is what makes it worthwhile, but vulnerability is inherently scary. you kind of just have to do it.

as for criticism, i've heard everything from "your pacing sucks" to "your work is morally reprehensible." the latter flavor has brought me pretty low, but i've since had the realization that people will just log on and say whatever. you can't dismiss every single criticism as coming from an idiot, but the reality is that 19-year-olds who haven't had breakfast are just typing shit with no filter every day because it's easy. in four years, they're going to look back and think "what the hell was wrong with me" and hope you've forgotten it. that's my experience, anyway.

i go to peers who i trust for meaningful critique and try to keep an open mind otherwise. maybe that part gets a little easier with some perspective. anyway, thank you for your kind words and good luck with your stories.

[raine-kai]

Yor and Anya

Sometimes I think about how, even though Yor thinks she is the substitute parent in their family, to the telepathic Anya, she is the realest parent this girl has.

Because while Yor, like Loid, agreed to be part of this family as a cover, in her belief that Loid and Anya are a widower and his daughter, she is determined to do right by them. While Loid is also catching feelings for his family, he is also extremely mission-focused, occasionally still thinking about how this family is temporary.

But for Yor, however much she might have agreed to get married as a cover and sees her relationship with Loid as fake, in her relationship with Anya, she is absolutely sincere and doing her best to be a good stepmother without overstepping her boundaries.

Yor is the one who breaks with decorum and rushes to Anya's side during the interview. Yor is the one who cares so much about Anya's happiness that she gently suggests to Loid that pushing her to do better in school might not be for the best.

Anya is hugely attached to Loid, and idolizes his lifestyle in a way that she does not idolize Yor's. When she reads their minds about their work, most often she gets excited by Loid's and horrified by Yor's. Anya chose Loid to be her parent, and while she also basically chose Yor, it was, I think, because she already had one parent who was a spy that an assassin coparent also looking for a cover struck her as a good idea. There is some truth to Yor's idea that Loid is the primary parent and she is the secondary, though not for the reasons she believes.

But at the end of the day, Yor is the one who brings them together and turns them into a family, rather than a comedy of errors about a spy who accidentally ended up saddled with a telepath fake-daughter.

As far as Loid is concerned, neither Anya nor Yor know his true motivations, but he is very focused on the mission. If Anya were not a telepath and did not know what was going on, I would be concerned for her—but that's not the story, and we don't know how she would have behaved to be pushed and pushed to excel at this stuffy, not-very-compassionate school. What we do know is that Yor, who is in practice the only one who does not know about the mission, sees this and speaks up.

And Loid listens to her. He sees the truth of her advice, and also as he calms down, he realizes how hard Anya is trying to please him.

I love this family, all of them. But I have a special place in my heart for Yor. For the way that even though she thinks she is the odd one out, using a real family as a cover, in practice she is the one who brings them together, by treating them as a family more than a mission.

No one in this family could really be called the lynchpin, since all of them are crucial parts to making it work the way that it does. I love the hilarity of the fact that Anya, of all people, is the one with the best sense of what's going on, and I ache for her that she is too frightened of people's reactions to learning about her telepathy to seek help when there is a crisis, and feels she must try to fix everything all by herself. And the love that Yor offers Anya, I feel, is a salvation that Anya does not yet know she needs.

[leidensygdom]

Just a bit of a personal thought, but I have grown to deeply dislike how social media, with its' competitive algorithm and need to have a perfect performance, is often giving people a really wrong idea of what is it actually to do art.

Most times, artists are rewarded by posting only their best work: A badly performing post in places like Instagram may affect how well your next post performs. It also prefers you to post finished pictures, very presentable sketches, that kind of stuff. Which is rarely the bulk of an artists' work. Even speedpaints have been chewed down into palatable videos barely reaching 15 seconds. Tiktok and Instagram reels prefer extremely short videos, and speedpaints are mostly just few (sparkles) aesthetic (sparkles) shots of minuscule parts of the process.

And all of that, I've found, gives people this really weird image of what is art actually like. A lot of starting artists grow to make idols out of bigger ones, thinking that these people can only create perfect pieces effortlessly, but that's not how it works. Very far from that. It's mostly that artists that keep active social media and have grown to know the game, know that showing the rough parts of art is not what gets you favoured by the algorithm.

I've been thinking about this ever since I saw a video on twitter of a fairly long speedpaint for what you usually see in social media, I think 4 minutes long, where the person redrew portions of the sketch up to five times. And a lot of people mentioned it was enlightening to see the struggle, to see that even a competent artist sometimes will struggle doing a little phone cord for an hour.

I think that's something I have kind of experienced, too. I'm not a big artist, but a lot of people have mentioned they find me intimidating still, up until they know me on Discord or something and realize I'm just a goof like any other. Up until I mention a face refused to work for 2 hours and I gave up, or how I randomly keep learning new basic functionalities in my drawing software of choice. And I think that's crucial to share too: Art is not a linear road! It isn't a smooth trip! You'll fail again and again and sometimes will end up going back to a previous point, then take another path. Sometimes you render a whole drawing and decide it looks bad so you start over. Sometimes you realize the lines came out wonky as hell and end up redoing it. Sometimes you gave a character 6 fingers or forgot people have eyebrows. It happens! And it's part of what making art is!

I mentioned this on Twitter- I rarely have visible proof of these struggles, but for an Artfight drawing (where I am trying to be speedy), I struggled with a cloak. For long. I made a thumbnail, I made a sketch, realized the cloak didn't work out, so I redrew it over and over again. I deleted most of the discarded sketches, but here's a few of the things that survived.

And like, I'm tired of not talking about this! I'm sad that people think they're failing because their art process isn't as smooth as it could be! So, yeah: I guess rant over, but I just have been thinking about this a bunch lately. If you'd like, do please feel free to reblog or share in replies any similar situations, struggles and flops. I think it could help people to realize how this is actually just a natural part of the process.

[mercuriians]

can't remember to forget you

content warning — some profanity, mentions of alcohol, references to terminal illness. reader’s last name is mentioned once for plot purposes later on.

author’s note — HI YALL 🥴 this is totally unedited & i wrote this at 12am. i just wanted to get this out as quickly as possible so bare with me. as a fair warning there is a LOT to unpack with the reader’s backstory, and to be honest 90% of this fic is literally just you brooding over kenji LMAO 😭. this is basically just an experiment so if u guys like this plz let me know so i can write a follow up!!

you really have no idea as to how such an important piece of information slipped your mind. two of japan's most recent superstar athletes were returning home at the exact same time. it would've brought a smile to your face in any other situation. if only those two athletes hadn't been you and him. kenji.

it's been years since you two have spoken. well, those years were spent productively, with both of you dedicating much-needed time towards your respective sports. he rocked the baseball field. you shone on the basketball court. but at the end of the day, behind all the sweat and arena lights and post-game interviews, there was a sharp pain that remained unresolved at the back of your mind. the last memory you have of kenji is still freshly imprinted. you had been at his house, and having recently heard the devastating news of your mother being terribly ill, you had come to him seeking comfort. little did you know that he was hurting too, with another fight having just happened between him and his father.

there was so much going on at the time, so much to worry about and so much pain in general, that all the pent-up feelings between you two had burst within one crucial moment. he kissed you, and you kissed back. clothes came off. you ended up in his bed. for a while it had felt like heaven because yes, it distracted you from the worry that consumed you from the inside out, but it had also made your most secretive wishes come to fruition.

until that moment, only you had known how deeply and utterly in love you were with kenji, and how strongly those feelings had grown since you two were fourteen.

there was nothing else that could have made you happier. even now, you remember the feeling of his strong arms around you, the feeling of his mouth against yours. the way your name rolled off his tongue so smoothly, so adoringly, as he whispered it into your ear. the way he hugged you so firmly after you two made love, as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

but then you also remember how something in him changed only a few seconds later. how the atmosphere grew dark the moment he pushed you off and told you to leave without even looking you in the eye. there's a part of you that wants to think kenji didn't mean to hurt you the way he did. it's the more naive, more hopeful part of yourself, spinning stories of how he actually didn't want you to leave, and he just said it because he didn't know how to cope with his own feelings. ultimately, it's all wishful thinking, borne out of a desire to believe that he maybe did really love you.

kenji broke your heart that night, and right now, even as you board the plane headed to tokyo, even as you put on a smile and sign an autograph for a starstruck fan, you admit that not a single thing has changed. you're still holding onto the past, and you hate yourself for it. especially when you realize that kenji probably moved on a long time ago.

"you alright?" your agent, himari, asks when you two sit down. she's one of the sweetest people ever, and you really don't want to lie to her because of the guilt that you know you'll feel. you meet her hazel eyes. you open your mouth to respond.

"yeah, i'm fine," you smile.

damn it.

as the plane takes off, you do your best to remove kenji from your mind, if only for a little while. perhaps inevitably, you start thinking about the very reason you've decided to finally come home. exactly two nights ago, there was a dream you had while you were sleeping. it was vivid in its entirety, and there was fire and people screaming and something very, very big in the distance, in front of what seemed like a sports arena. conveniently enough, there was some sort of fog surrounding the mysterious figure, but you didn't need to see it to know what it actually was. a kaiju.

you remember the words your mother told you before she passed away. it was an extremely painful memory, and really there was nothing in the world that could have encapsulated how helpless you felt when you saw her frail figure. she used to be so strong, so lively with everything she did and said. it took you a while to recognize the woman that laid in the hospital bed. however even with the tears that had stung your vision at the time, you heard the very last traces of her resolve within the very last words she said to you.

"when you're old enough, i want you to start what i couldn't. . to protect the world with the gift i'll give you. please. . just remember that i love you, and that it's worth giving things a second chance."

as you stare out of the plane window, watching the world pass by below you, the clouds mix together and blur into a white haze. a moment later, you realize that tears are threatening to fall from your eyes. you wipe them away with your sleeve before they have the chance to. i'll do my best, mom, you think, hoping that somehow she can hear you. i don't know where or how i'll start, but i will.

there's a lot of things waiting for you in japan, and you're not entirely sure if you're ready. but at the end of the day, it's your home, and you know deep within your heart that you'll do anything to protect it. sliding your sunglasses onto your face, you close your eyes and try to get some rest before the plane lands.

around twelve hours later, tokyo is there to greet you in all its glory. it's night time, but the way the city lights contrast so beautifully against the sky's inky blue-black canvas is more than enough to bring a smile to your face. "we're home, himari," you say to the woman next to you.

"we are, indeed," she breathes out.

“man, not even los angeles can compete against this,” you chuckle lightly. your words carry quite a lot of weight to them, especially considering how you were completely and utterly starstruck for the first couple of weeks you were in california. there’s a reason so many movies were filmed there. yet, tokyo remains on another level, still reigning as the undefeated champion.

fine. maybe you’re a little biased.

however, your smile fades away when you realize that the probability of seeing him—kenji—is at an all time high. chances are, he’s already here. waiting for you.

stop that.

you shrug off the thought, reminding yourself that he had probably moved on years ago. there was no use in entertaining an idea that had been burnt out for a long time. the only person that would end up being hurt would be yourself—and speaking from experience, emotional distress was a lot different than physical. physical pain you could handle. as a basketball star, you were pretty accustomed to them by now. ankle sprains, muscle cramps, even that torn acl from a year ago, which had hurt like an absolute bitch.

emotional pain was entirely different territory. and it was territory that you were not willing to cross. not again.

god, you were such a mess. maybe indulging in a momentary distraction wouldn’t hurt.

“hey, himari, you wanna know what i’m cravin’ right now?” you ask, a false smile creeping onto your face. the woman in question gives you a wary look, brows slightly scrunched together as if she already knows what you’re going to say.

“a good night’s rest before your interview tomorrow?” she asks flatly.

you shake your head. “alcohol. lots of it.”

“ms. matsuda, i don’t think that’s a smart decision—”

waving her off, you protest, “just for tonight, i promise. we’re back home and i wanna celebrate. and how many times have i told you to call me by my first name?”

himari stares at you for a few moments before lowering her head and heaving a sigh. “fine. . [name]. please take care of yourself out there. and be prepared—i’m sure quite a lot of people will recognize you when you walk into the bar.”

you smile in triumph, holding up your sunglasses. “i’ve got that covered. sure, having these on at night are a little weird, but i’ll just pass it off as the new trend.”

your agent gives you another slightly concerned look before bidding you a good night. and with that, you start walking to the nearest bar. it’s small, inconspicuous, and lit up with only one neon sign. all good indicators that there’s probably not a lot of people in there. you walk in, head held high, without any trouble. your footsteps are light and unhurried against the wooden floor as your eyes quickly scan the environment—eleven or twelve people, give or take, two bartenders, a potted plant over by the corner. and a vacant stool at the far end. perfect.

sliding into the seat, you drum your fingers on the freshly cleaned counter as you decide on what to order. “the denki bran looks good, think i’ll get that,” you mutter to yourself.

you feel someone take the stool next to you, but you don’t pay it much mind. at least until they reply to your words. “yeah, it is good. pretty bold choice, though.”

your mouth drops open.

you hear the person next to you snicker quietly.

the snail-esque speed at which you turn your head would have been comical if it had been any other situation. however, it’s anything but funny when your heart jumps into your throat, when your eyes widen with pure and unadulterated shock as they meet those of familiar gunmetal gray bordering on black.

kenji gives you a sharp grin that’s only a little bit sheepish. “nice to see you again, ace.”

[sepublic]

People -and this did include myself at one point- really don't want to engage with the fact that Belos is modeled after white supremacy by trying to bury this under the lens of "Oh he's actually a lonely weirdo like Luz!!!" when Belos' superiority complex is the most important part of him and it's where all analyses inevitably must stem from. I think the problem is that people are too attached to their speculative fanon version of Belos and instead of letting go of that to rebuild their understanding of him from the ground up (since he's a mysterious character who is only gradually revealed bit by bit), they keep clinging to this sympathetic tragic villain as the core behind their interpretation of him. 

Everything about Belos makes so much more sense when you explore him as someone akin to a lot of right-wing 4channers; A lonely young boy who was radicalized because white supremacy promised to rescue him from his isolation, and after buying into it wholesale, he very much chose to cling onto the need to be superior to the "NPCs" even when someone close to him actually unlearns and deconstructs for him why this is harmful. He sees firsthand how someone just like him is happier for leaving this mindset, and then kills them to eliminate that contradiction threatening his world belief; At which point it’s inaccurate to infantilize him as just a lonely and misguided kid, because he’s no longer a kid and he made a very cognizant and informed choice to double down and commit actual violence.

And everyone knows that by this point, such people are not actually being sincere; They’re not secretly misguided, you can’t simply attribute their harm to not knowing better because this is what their religion says or whatever. These people know they’re committing harm, but rather than help on “lesser” people’s terms, they ‘help’ the way THEY see fit, in the way that strokes their ego. That’s what separates Philip from someone like Gwen, who humbled herself to focus on what Eda was saying she really needed. So the Titan’s summarization of Belos as someone who only cares about being the hero in his own delusion, and fears what he can’t control is… hardly an oversimplification, it really gets to the core of Belos as a character, and the narrative he embodies. It captures the difference between wanting to help and having a savior complex, and is what ends up delineating the two at the crucial crossroads. 

And I find it a little concerning to joke about how this type of character is “just a silly guy” when people exactly like him are on the rise and committing very real violence right now. It’s also why I don’t buy the justification behind a lot of salt about how villains need to be humanized in order to show kids how THEY can become villains, because the show is fairly outright about how Belos rationalizes atrocities under the guise of the ‘greater good’ and refuses to self-reflect, and it’s not as if we don’t have Luz learning to understand characters like Amity or Lilith, the Collector and even Kikimora (whom she DID relate to personally, yet Kiki still doubled down with or without Belos), while still having the show emphasize that they need to get their act together and can’t just depend on people to save them. 

There’s also the very obvious theme of Luz realizing she doesn’t owe her oppressor anything, especially not when he won’t ever meet her or anyone else on their terms, but idk some people just seem to hate Luz for having boundaries I guess, even though she already put in the effort to be kind and understanding to Belos and she got hurt for it. Hell the Collector made that effort after being inspired by Luz, and Luz was murdered protecting them from that mistake!!! There are some very obvious stories and lessons being told here with the actual protagonists being the heart of those narratives, but the problem I’ve noticed is that a lot of the people complaining on Belos’ behalf are those who hyperfixated almost exclusively on the Wittebane aspect of the lore, going over it with a fine tooth comb and microscope to extrapolate an entire fanon from the littlest of details… only to just ignore the actual show and narrative and themes happening on-screen. 

And that leads to many not understanding various narrative decisions because they weren’t really paying attention to the actual point they’re in service to, and then they blame the writers for their own chosen ignorance, and how the story wasn’t about their part specifically so everything else doesn’t count and the whole show is wasted potential, really. The way so many of said fans immediately turned on Luz after the finale and tried to drag her down to Belos’ level by acting like she wasn’t any better for also wanting things and 'demonizing enemies', claiming Luz had unaddressed ‘flaws’ while Belos deserved more sympathy, and framing Belos as a ‘better’ character who ‘worked harder’ while claiming Luz was retconned into an arrogant chosen one who never grew, is actually baffling.

A lot of them are just upset that Belos didn’t play the role in Luz’s arc that they wanted him to play, so they’ve opted to dismiss Luz’s overall storyline as badly written and even a reflection of Dana's 'Catholic complex' (which is a tasteless jab to make) because they neglected the nuance behind every other aspect of Luz that wasn’t directly tied to Belos, that didn’t set her up as the one person who understands him or whatever because that’s more important to them than addressing the sheer trauma and pain that Belos willingly inflicted upon Luz. Because god forbid this brown girl be angry against her white abuser, huh? God forbid the white guy be used to set up the brown main character, rather than the other way around right????? It’s really just a jealous complaint about the show’s choice of priorities and celebration, hidden under the false guise of ever caring about Luz’s arc for Luz’s sake.

And that’s how you get insincere arguments about how Belos should’ve been able to survive, that’s how you get AUs that undermine the lessons of canon to egregiously relegate Luz to being Belos’ sidekick, or even present her as an obstacle to him getting his much-needed redemption, as if that last part hinges on all of Belos’ victims getting over their pain to help him, because obviously he needs it more than they do! Because we gotta spare Belos’ feelings by giving him friends instead of consequences!!! Unbelievable. He is not Amity, not Lilith, and definitely not Hunter, and the people who forgave them had actual reason to do so. And even Lilith had to move in with her mother so she could be given reparations by someone who actually owed it to her, rather than her younger sister and two kids.

And there’s definitely a major difference between Lilith and Gwen’s dynamic and Philip and Caleb’s, especially since Caleb was also a child when he moved into Gravesfield. Even if you think Belos' bigotry was radicalized due to 'grief' over losing his brother to witches, that's just entitlement and control because it's not as if Caleb can't have more than one positive relationship in his life; Philip is no better than people who blame minorities for some incident in their life and use that as justification to become white supremacists, and there's nothing sympathetic or 'tragic' about that.

But the point is that Caleb ultimately wasn’t THAT important to Belos because he’d always be secondary to witch-hunting, Belos clearly chose his white supremacy over his brother, and any ‘takebacks’ that come in the form of the Grimwalkers are insincere given Belos does nothing to actually repent or regret his violence committed on the people of the isles; It’d have been one thing if he DID try to undo his mistake by choosing differently, by cloning Caleb and giving up witch hunting, but he still doesn’t (Note that Belos does not hallucinate the ghosts of the witches he killed; He still feels no remorse over them, because his fear of being wrong comes from a selfish place). And unlike Luz, Belos can’t have it both ways because one option explicitly calls for the extermination of the other; It’s the Paradox of Tolerance that Luz struggled with, except contrary to what Belos claims, humanity’s existence does not require the eradication of others.

Because yes there IS a meaningful moral distinction between Luz and Belos -don’t forget they’re not just parallels but explicit opposites- that occurs even before you get into the genocide, not that you should neglect that other part either because it’s incredibly important, being the starting point for this entire rant. Society already has a bias towards devil’s advocating bigotry as some big misunderstanding, and prioritizing the angst of white dudes who commit it over the victims of color; Can we avoid applying that to fiction?!??!? I literally saw someone complain that the show didn’t portray Belos’ grief from murdering Luz, and that Luz’s “glory moment” took away from a Wittebane backstory!!! At this point, people are just being racist.

[leonas-herbivore]

Impressing Vil: A Masquerade Mission

Summary: You have the BIGGEST crush on Vil Schoenheight but you don't know how to tell him. How exactly do you tell the most beautiful guy in school that you like him? Luckily for you, the perfect opportunity arrives: the masquerade ball being hosted by Night Raven College! You decide to work hard to win over the guy of your dreams. But, do dreams... really come true?

Word count: 6,714

Thanks in advance for reading :) I love you all *kisses*

Damn! Only 20 minutes until the store closes! Maybe if I run, I can make it. The setting sun cast a long shadow on your zig-zagging form as you sprinted down the sidewalk. You shouted apologies over your shoulder as people complained about your reckless running. But time was of the essence! The situation at hand was a matter of life or death. 

That was a lie. But it was still crucial. Night Raven College had planned a masquerade ball for Saturday night, creating an exciting atmosphere at school. What was even more intriguing was that it was going to be an interschool event. Supposedly, Royal Sword Academy was one of the invited schools, and judging by the groaning and muttering of the NRC students, nobody was thrilled. The posters decorated the walls all over campus about a month ago, and everyone had been talking about it since.  

According to the posters, it would be a glamorous event: dressing up in elaborate costumes and masks and engaging in ballroom dancing—a prestigious event for a prestigious college. And to add to the level of prestige, it was going to be held at the castle, Chateau De Chambord. Rumors said that it used to belong to an ugly beast. 

You needed one specific herb to complete the vision for your costume. Your legs burned as you stopped to catch your breath. As determined as you were, the realization that you wouldn’t make it to the herbal store started to sink in. A knot formed in your stomach. For a moment, you thought about giving up.  

But would he give up? You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. No. He wouldn’t. You took another deep breath and prepared yourself. You had to keep going! Go big or go home! Before you could take a step, a honking stopped you in your tracks. A sleek black car pulled up to the curb. Your heart nearly stopped. Whenever this happened in the movies, somebody got kidnapped and murdered. You steeled yourself for the worst. The window to the back seat rolled down. You gasped as a familiar face appeared. 

“Vil?! What are you doing here?” you asked him. His brow furrowed. 

“I could very well ask you the same thing. What were you thinking sprinting down the sidewalk like that? You could have injured someone.”  

“You saw that? There’s somewhere I need to be. So, I gotta go, but-” a thought popped into your head. “Hey, um. Beautiful Vil, the fairest one of all, heh.” You gave Vil the best smile you could muster. His face was the definition of unimpressed. 

“Would you mind… giving me a ride? I’m going to the herbal store, Kingdom of the Sun. Maybe you’ve heard of it. It’s not far from here. Pretty, pretty, please?” 

“Why, what a coincidence. I’m also heading there. The shopkeeper is an acquaintance of mine and was gracious enough to keep it open for me. Get in. I’ll bring you.” Vil said. He opened the door and scooted across the seat to make room for you. You pumped your fist in the air and climbed into the car. 

“Villy, you’re the best!”  

“How kind of you,” he mused.  

As the car pulled away from the curb, you settled into your seat and plopped your bag next to you. You caught the eye of the driver in the rearview mirror and gave him a small wave. Vil had a chauffeur? After thinking about it, it made sense. He was a celebrity AND a supermodel. He totally deserved it. 

You couldn’t believe what a lucky coincidence it was to bump into Vil. A few days ago, he told you that he was working on a big project and wouldn’t be able to hang out for a few days. Seeing him on campus became a rare occasion. You made sure to drop off extra fruits for him for his morning smoothies. Anonymously, of course. He couldn’t know it was you.  

“Spudling?” 

Vil’s clear voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You met his gaze. His perfectly shaped eyebrow was raised. You gulped. 

“Huh? What is it?” 

“Are you going to get up?  We have a bit of a ways to walk to reach the shop. It won’t take long though.” he said.  

“Oops! Sorry, I was just spacing out.” You gave an apologetic smile and hopped out of the car. The chauffeur rolled down the passenger window. 

“I will wait for you here, Mr. Vil. Please give me a call if you need help,” he spoke. Vil thanked him and gestured to you.  

“Walk with me?” 

Your footsteps clicked on the sidewalk. You glanced at Vil. Looking at him was like looking at the sun; worth the risk of giving in to tickling temptation, to catch a glance of its heavenly beauty even when it blinds you. His eyelashes were long and perfectly curled. His side profile was truly a sight to behold.

But it was a shame you couldn’t see his eyes. He had such beautiful eyes. They always looked so clear and every time you gazed into them, a wave of calm would wash over you. Maybe in his past life, Vil was an angel. I could stare at him forever. A sigh escaped your lips. Vil’s hair swished around his face as he turned to look at you. Like a princess. You hoped he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks. 

“How have you been, my dear?” he asked you. He called me “my dear”! You wished your heart would calm down. “I haven’t seen you in a few days. Working hard, I hope?” 

You nodded and answered, “Yes! I’ve been studying really hard, and I’ve even incorporated a skin care routine into my schedule. I took your advice. My face feels like a baby’s butt. And by that, I mean, it feels soft.” Vil chuckled. 

“A baby’s butt you say? Let’s see.” Vil stopped walking and turned to you. His thumb caressed your cheek. You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Hmm, yes. Very soft and smooth. I am so glad that you found my advice useful.” He smiled at you, and it was like looking at a sparkling pearl. You did your best not to pout as he lowered his hand from your cheek.  

“Please make sure to come to me in the future if you ever need anything. I’ll be there to help you.” 

“Aww Villy!” You grinned at him. You playfully bumped his shoulder. “I’ll always be there for you too! Although, I’m not sure how good my advice is. But I’ll do my best to help you.” Vil smiled again and bumped your shoulder back. The rest of your walk was in silence, though not uncomfortable. You were walking so close together, occasionally your fingers would brush his and your heart would sing. Eventually, the shop came into view. “The Kingdom of the Sun” sign glowed as its fluorescent light flooded the sidewalk. 

You took a deep breath. Ok, this is it. The final piece! Buying supplies for your costume and mask weren’t cheap. For four weeks, you’d been working your ass off, trying to make enough money to get what you needed. You worked as much as possible after class, before class, and on the weekends. Your friends kept wondering why you were working so hard.  

“Hey, what’s this all about anyway?” Grim asked you one evening after you’d returned to the dorm after a night shift. “Just for one party? Sure, it’s gonna be the biggest event of the year, but you never cared about parties. What gives?” You kicked off your shoes and plopped onto the dusty couch. You closed your eyes. A picture-perfect face filled your mind. Your heart skipped a beat. Those violet eyes and silky blonde hair. You thought you were over your blond boy phase. Guess not. 

After the events of the SDC, you’d been spending more time with him. He was truly an amazing person. Beautiful inside and out. You don’t remember when your crush on Vil started. But one day, stupid Cupid shot you in the heart and you became a lovesick fool. You weren’t brave enough to approach him, so you started doing little secret things. You left little presents and love letters at his dorm. This went on for some time. Courage was elusive to you and after a while, you thought you’d never get the chance to tell Vil how you felt. But then, the masquerade was announced. It was the perfect opportunity to make your move. Of course, you couldn’t tell Grim that. You shrugged. 

“What’s wrong with trying hard every once in a while?” Grim wasn’t satisfied with your answer and kept bugging you until you gave him a can of tuna. 

You walked a few steps before a hand landed on your shoulder. You turned to see Vil looking at you. Even in the washed-out fluorescent lights, his beauty still sparkled like a flawless diamond. It was enough to take your breath away. You wondered if you would ever get used to how gorgeous he was. His hands reached up to your hair. Your scalp tingled as Vil ran his fingers through your hair. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” you asked. 

“Your hair and clothes are an absolute disaster. I assume it’s from all that running you were doing. I can’t in good conscience let you walk around like a disheveled vegetable. Now hush.”  

Vil straightened your shirt. His fingertips brushed your neck as he adjusted your collar. It took every ounce of your willpower not to shiver in pleasure. Vil took a step back and gave a satisfied smile. 

“There. All better,” he said and gestured towards the shop. “Shall we?” 

The bell dinged as the two of you stepped into the shop. A pleasant aroma filled your nose as your eyes scanned the shelves of herbs and flowers. Vil waved to the shop owner and exchanged pleasantries. You followed suit. You left them to their conversation and set on your mission. Primrose, no; Briar Thistle, no. …Chimera breath? Yikes, that thing stinks. There it is! You grinned.  

The last thing you needed was the blue star-shaped herb, Starflower. And it was sitting right before you, the very last one. The talisman instructions that you read said that this herb had the effect of courage. Just the thing you needed for the big night. As you reached out to grab it, another hand bumped into yours. There was only one person it could be. Your eyes met Vil’s.  

“Oh! Sorry, Villy. Um, did you also need this?” you asked.  

“Yes, I need it for one of my potions. I am quite curious as to why you need such an herb. I’m almost certain it’s not for class. What do you need it for?” 

You bit your lip under his cool gaze. I need it to win you over on the night of the masquerade! And maybe we’ll kiss at midnight! I’ll leave with a lipstick mark on my cheek, hee hee. Oof, shouldn’t get ahead of myself. You couldn’t tell him the truth. Dying of embarrassment wasn’t on your to-do list. But if you lied to him, he would see right through it.  

“It doesn’t really matter, ha ha,” you said. “Why don’t you just take it? I’m sure the things you need it for are more important.” 

“You were running down the sidewalk earlier as if you had a lot to lose by not getting here on time. I have also heard some rather interesting rumors.” Vil crossed his arms. Sweat started forming on your forehead. 

“Rumors?” 

“According to what I’ve heard, you’ve been working a considerable amount for the past month. Strangely enough, it sounds like this all started when the masquerade was announced.” Vil wasn’t accusing you of anything, but you felt like a deer in the headlights. Who even told him that? Who started the rumors? What was happening? You swallowed down the lump in your throat. 

“Listen. I don’t know anything about those rumors. And what’s wrong with working hard?” you retorted. “You’re the one who’s saying how important it is to work on your inner self or whatever. That’s what I’m doing. Nothing wrong with that, right? Anyway, take the stupid herb. I don’t need it.” You turned on your heels and stormed out.  

It took thirty minutes for you to walk back to your dorm. Your cheeks burned the whole walk back, and they still burned as you sat on the couch in the common room. Grim tried to ask you what was going on when you walked in, but your evil eye silenced him. You were impressed with yourself. Grim was not easily silenced. You stared at the ceiling as you munched on your dinner. You shouldn’t have snapped at Vil. Your anger and embarrassment got the better of you. 

Didn’t people have anything better to do than talk about you? Since when did people take notice of what you were doing?  A million questions ran through your head. You pushed your food away from you, picked the pillow off the couch, and screamed into it. Today was probably the worst day ever. You worked so hard to be able to buy that herb, and it was all for nothing. Not only that, but Vil probably hated you now.  

“Hey, henchman!” Grim called out to you. It sounded like his voice was coming from the front of the dorm. You groaned as you lifted yourself off the couch. Your legs ached and burned with every step you took. Skipping leg day was a bad idea.  

“What is it, Griiii-” your voice trailed off. Grim was standing in front of the open door, and on the other side of the threshold was the Queen himself. The brightest star took a break from the sky just to visit little old you at your little dorm. We are not worthy!!  

“Villy! Um,wha-what are you doing here? Isn’t it late? Like, you should be in bed, getting your beauty sleep. Uh, not that you need it.” You stammered. 

“It’s 7pm,” Vil said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Grim, could you give us a minute? I need to speak with your prefect in private.” You gulped. He was going to verbally mince you into a pie. It was the end. Grim’s eyes darted between the two of you. You screamed internally as he nodded to Vil and scampered back into the common room. You glanced at Vil. 

“Listen, about what happened earlier-” you began to explain. Your words caught in your throat when Vil held out his hand. He was holding a small bag. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the “Kingdom of the Sun” logo. Did he buy the herb and bring it to you? He is SO sweet!  

“Take it,” he said. You shook your head.  

“I can’t take it. You bought it! And you said you needed it for a potion.” You pushed the bag away. “Really, it’s not that important,” you added. Vil sighed and grabbed your hands. He put the bag into your palms and closed your fingers around it. His hands were warm and soft; his fingernails were perfectly shaped. You melted under such a simple touch. 

“Just take it. Please?” Vil pleaded. Arg! I can’t say no to him. 

“W-well ok. But only because you said please.” you stammered. Vil smiled and patted your head. 

“I don’t understand what’s going on with you. But this herb seems to be of great importance. I expect great things to come of it.” Vil said. You said good night to each other. You stayed in the doorway until you saw his figure disappear into the night. You looked down at the bag in your hand. Your stomach fluttered with butterflies. He said he had high expectations of you. You grinned. Not bad for a spudling. I can’t let him down! You closed the door and rushed to your room. With renewed vigor, you added the finishing touch to your costume. It had to be perfect. It just had to be! 

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The morning fog lingered on the ground as you snuck over to the Pomefiore dorm. It was the day of the final boss: the masquerade ball. You decided to leave an extra special gift for Vil on the doorstep. It was a perfume that you made yourself. Even though anyone could see that an amateur had made it, you were still quite proud of yourself. You wrapped it in brightly colored paper with a big bow so it could easily be seen.  

A little card in perfect cursive handwriting that took you a painstakingly long time to do were the words: To the Fairest One of All, Vil Schoenheight. I look forward to your radiant beauty at the masquerade ball tonight. Yours truly, your secret admirer. You would normally leave such a gift outside his bedroom door, but today was different. From afar, you could tell that the dorm was buzzing. People were hanging around the courtyard. Someone would see you and start asking questions. Sneaking into the building was going to be nearly impossible. Your best bet was to leave it by the front door so that when Vil came back from his morning jog, he would see it. You grinned.  

Hopefully, Vil would love the present and be so moved by it, that the night of the masquerade, he would give you a kiss. You really wanted a kiss. You imagined looking in the mirror at a red lipstick mark, staining your lips. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you thought about it. 

That was your plan. Completely foolproof. At least it would be if Vil wasn’t standing right there at the front gates. And… who were all those people? And more importantly, who was the guy with the balloons? Among the large group of people surrounding Vil, was a guy with balloons in his hands. You hid your gift behind your back as you got closer. The atmosphere was heavy.  

The guy got down on one knee and released the balloons into the sky. Bang! Bang! Bang! The balloons erupted into fireworks of purple, blue, and red. With a wave of his magical pen, a bouquet of flowers appeared in his hand and a sparkling rainbow shone above his head. He held the flowers out to Vil, whose eyes were wide. 

“Vil! I-I really admire you!” the guy’s voice boomed across the courtyard. “Will you please grant me the great privilege to be your date to the masquerade?” Gasps and low murmurs escaped the crowd's mouths. You could only watch in horror. You couldn't compete with that. The magical spectacle. The drama. The confidence! That guy knew what he wanted and went after it with no fear. You clenched your fists. I hate him. Vil blinked at hummingbird speed. 

“My, what a bold proclamation. Well, I-" Vil looked up from where the guy was kneeling. Through the horde of murmuring people, like a magnet, his eyes met yours. A warmth decorated his face that you'd never seen before. Under normal circumstances, this moment would have meant the world to you. But a cold feeling washed over you.  

The sound of breaking glass tickled your ears as your gift slipped from your fingers. A tightness gripped your chest. You couldn't stay here. Tears stung your eyes as you slipped away from the crowd. I was too late. How stupid am I? How could I think that Vil would choose me? Your steps felt heavy with every stride you took. I’m just a magic-less nobody. A stupid potato. You didn't spare Vil a second glance, even though you could hear him calling you. 

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How annoying. Despite your grumbling and protests, Grim dragged you out to the masquerade. You didn't want to go. What was the point? But Grim was insistent. “C'mon! I heard there was gonna be free food! And I need my henchman to assist me. Better than sittin' here and moping. Get your costume, and let's go!” 

So, there you were. In the castle, Chateau De Chambord. The magnitude of the castle was enough to take your breath away. Everywhere you looked, there were the fanciest decorations you'd ever seen in your life. You would never be able to afford such things. Grim trotted beside you as you made your way to the ballroom. Guests in fine costumes were all around you.

Someone was a leopard, and another person was dressed up as a chameleon. You marveled at the intricacy of their outfit. Their costume changed colors to match the surroundings. You figured they used magic. Man, magic is SO cool! Your grouchiness slowly disappeared with every new marvel and outfit that you laid your eyes on. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a full-length mirror in a small alcove. You pulled a grumbling Grim over to the mirror to get a look at yourself. You held out your arms and did a twirl. A cultivation of a month's worth of work on full display. You chose your costume to resemble a rosy maple moth. Pink and yellow striped the long jacket of your dress suit, which was a body of yellow. You used fleece to give yourself the fuzzy look of a moth. Your mask covered your whole face, the same color as your suit.  

Large antennae crowned your head and fluffy tufts decorated your face. It wasn't the most elaborate costume, but your chest still swelled with pride as you admired yourself. The talisman you put together hung around your neck in clear view. You picked out a large silver pendant with a hollow glass container, so you could put your starflower herb concoction into the container. The glass looked like a sapphire stone. So far, you hadn’t noticed much change in your sense of confidence, but you hoped it would work soon. 

Lively music was playing as you and Grim entered the ballroom. The dance floor was littered with people who were drinking and dancing. You wondered if you would recognize any of your friends. You wondered if Vil had arrived yet. Your heart squeezed at the thought of him. Maybe he had a date, maybe it was the guy who asked him to the dance earlier. They could be dancing together right now, holding each other close and gazing into each other's eyes. At midnight, they would share the best kiss of all time. You felt sick to your stomach. Suddenly, the party seemed dull. 

Grim pulled on your sleeves and pointed to one of the buffet tables. Food was no longer enticing but nonetheless, your furry companion tugged on your sleeve with the eagerness of a small child. You sighed. The two of you waded through the crowd. Once you reached the buffet table, your eyes grew wide. You’d never seen so much food in your life. Everything looked and smelled so delicious. Grim was practically drooling looking over everything.  

“Henchman!” he exclaimed. “Give me one of everything! It all looks so amazing!” He hopped up and down with excitement. You sighed heavily. Despite the delicious aromas invading your nose, your stomach was in knots. The whole reason you wanted to go to the masquerade was because of Vil. It was your one big chance to finally make your move.

But it was all for nothing. You should’ve seen it coming. Of course, someone was going to ask Vil to the ball. He was a popular guy. It was stupid of you to think that no one would ask him out or even worse, that he would wait for you. He didn’t even know how you felt, why would he wait for you? You weren’t even sure if he felt the same way. In hindsight, it all seemed so foolish. But you wanted to follow your heart. 

“Hey! What are you sulkin’ for? Is this about Vil?” Grim’s question made your stomach flip. I think I’m going to puke. 

“What are you talking about?” You demanded. 

“You like him, don’t you?” 

“WHAAT?! How did you- I mean I don’t- It’s just that- Ugh!” You nearly shouted. If Grim figured it out, then everyone else must have too. That is so embarrassing. Grim huffed. 

“It was kind of obvious. You look at him like he’s the best thing since canned tuna. Your eyes get all sparkly and your face lights up like a Christmas tree whenever someone mentions his name.” Heat rose to your cheeks. Luckily, the mask covering your face hid your embarrassment. 

“This is... bad. REALLY bad. I thought I was being subtle!” You exclaimed. 

“You’re about as subtle as a brick to the face,” Grim said. “Well, did you ask him to the dance? Is he meeting you here?” 

“Uh...no. Someone else asked him earlier. I-I missed my chance.”  

“So that’s why you were all droopy earlier.” Grim paused for a moment. “Do you... want to talk about it?” You shook your head. 

“No thanks. But I appreciate your offer. For now, I’ll get your food for you, and we can just chill out for the rest of the night. Ok? So, go find us a table. I’ll find you after I make your plate.” Grim hesitated for a moment before nodding and scurrying off. You sighed again. It was going to be a rough night. You reached out your hand to grab a plate and bumped into someone else’s hand. 

“Oh, I'm so sorry!” You exclaimed. The hand belonged to a peacock. Or rather, a person dressed as a peacock. The iridescent blues and greens complimented each other so beautifully. A long train of plume trailed behind them by their waist. A blue mask covered their whole face with bejeweled stones. Your jaw dropped. “Wow! Your costume is so gorgeous. You look like royalty. Really. You should totally have a crown.” A thought suddenly crossed your mind. How long have they been standing there? Did they hear me and Grim talk about Vil? 

“Thank you.” The person behind the mask chuckled and you could've sworn you recognized it from somewhere. “Your costume looks wonderful too. Is it handmade?” 

“I can't tell if it's a compliment or a curse that you could see that. But yeah. I made this myself. I worked really hard on it! It took like a month to get it together.” You answered and puffed out your chest. 

“Of course it's a compliment. I can tell how hard you worked on it. You should be proud of yourself.” The peacock's voice was so kind. You blushed at their compliments. 

“Ah, please pardon me from before. For bumping your hand.” The peacock handed you a plate. “For you.” You thanked them and began to pile Grim’s plate with everything on the table. One of everything, as requested. After filling the plate to the brim, you waddled over to where Grim was sitting. He was easy to find with his flaming ears. It made him look like a glow stick in the dim light. 

“Thanks.” Grim chirped cheerfully as you placed his plate in front of him. Nothing made Grim happier than a big plate of food. 

“Yeah, sure. You’re welcome.” You said. You huffed and slumped into your chair. Beside you, you heard the scraping of a chair. The person from earlier, in the peacock costume, sat beside you. A meager meal sat on their plate as opposed to Grim's tower of food.  

“Would you mind if I sat next to you?” The person asked. 

“I don't see why not. Uh, I didn't catch your name before?” 

“My name is Vi-Vincent. A pleasure to meet you.” Vincent extended his hand to you, and you shook it. 

“Nice to meet you too! The ravenous raccoon over there-" You jabbed a finger in Grim's direction. 

“I am NOT a raccoon!” He complained. You were surprised you could understand him with all that food in his mouth. 

“Ha ha, right. My bad. That's Grim. Maybe he's a cat?” You shrugged. Vincent inclined his head to Grim before turning back to you. 

“I was wondering if you would tell me more about your costume. I'm so intrigued. How long did it take to you to finish it?” Vincent asked.  

“Oh, it took about a month. I've been working at several part-time jobs to buy all the pieces I needed. It's supposed to look like a... look like a...” You trailed. A nagging feeling was tugging at your mind. There was something about Vincent that felt so familiar. His posture, how he talked. His presence comforted you which was odd considering you’d never met him before. Or had you? 

“Like a what?” Vincent asked. 

“Oh, um. Like a moth. It was my inspiration.” You answered. You squinted your eyes trying to get a better look at the eye holes in Vincent’s mask. The shadows across his face and the dim atmosphere made it impossible to see his eyes. Still, that sense of familiarity didn’t leave you. 

“Well, your hard work most certainly paid off. And I must say,” Vincent pointed at your talisman. “That is such a lovely blue color. Is that sapphire?” You shook your head. 

“It does look like one but no. It's a little potion I mixed together. I used an herb called Starflower. That's what's making it look so blue. It's supposed to increase confidence.” 

“How impressive. But, if you don't mind me asking, why would you need such a thing? Was it for the masquerade?” Vincent asked. That’s a weird question, right? Why would he need to know? 

“Uh, well…I guess. Actually, I was hoping to ask out my crush tonight. I chose this herb to help give me the courage to do so.” You shook your head. “But I don't think I'll be able to ask him. He came here with someone else.” Tears stung your eyes. You still couldn’t believe that you missed your chance. Vincent tilted his head. 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Huh?” 

Before Vincent could continue, the music changed to a slow song. Couples gathered on the dance floor, swaying and holding each other close. Your shoulders slumped. One of those couples out there could've been me and Vil but… 

Vincent stood up and extended a gloved hand towards you. 

“May I have this dance?”  

You gazed at his outstretched hand. You weren’t sure what was going on, but your heart was pounding in your chest as the wheels in your mind were turning at lightning speed. A normal person would take that as a sign that something was wrong, and it would be best to go home. But only one person made your heart soar the way it was soaring now.

Vil? You had to know. And you would only know if you took his hand. You reached out. Your palm slid into his and his fingers curled around your hand as he helped you rise to your feet. Through gloved hands, warmth seeped from his to yours like sunlight pouring through the blinds in the early morning. And it was then that you knew. 

Together you made your way to the dance floor, walking hand in hand, maneuvering between swaying couples. Under the light of a beautiful chandelier, Vincent turned to you. You gasped as his hand held your waist and he pulled you closer. The music couldn’t be heard over the desperate drumming in your chest but luckily, Vincent was taking the lead. You only had to worry about was following his movements and trying not to stare at him too much. 

“Are you alright?” Vincent’s voice murmured over the pounding in your ears. 

“Y-yes. I’m ok.” You paused for a moment. “What did you mean before?” 

“What?” 

“When I told you my crush came here with someone else. You asked me if I was sure about that. What did you mean?” 

“Ah, well. What I meant was-” Vincent went silent for a moment. “Well, did you see him say yes? To the other person who asked him.” 

“Well, not exactly but, it was a really impressive proposal. There were balloons, flowers, and fireworks! I can’t compete with that. I’m just a potato...” 

“A potato, you say?” Vincent mused.  

Hmm, he didn’t take the bait. Let’s try something else. You wracked your brain. Something about Vil. There were so many things that ran through your mind about him. His eyes, his lips, his hair, and his beautiful smile. How hardworking and smart he was; he was so gifted and talented. It still shocked you that he wanted to be friends with someone like you. He was a swan, and you were a crow.

But honestly, Vil wasn’t the kind of guy who cared about status. He cared about people for who they were and who they could be through hard work and dedication. Maybe that’s why he wanted to be your friend. Because he saw something beautiful within you just like you saw the beauty in him. And that the beautiful thing inside you, maybe, just maybe, it would be enough for him to feel the same way you did about him. 

“Your talisman!” Vincent gasped. You looked down. A bright blue light shone from your talisman, illuminating the two of you. Calmness washed over you like spring rain and a warmth radiated in your chest. Your morning slump was no longer important. It didn't matter that someone else asked Vil to the dance. The only thing that mattered was right here, right now. You could do anything. You could take on the world. You could get the guy. You had an idea. It was time to show off what you were made of. 

“Check this out!” You proclaimed. 

You pulled Vincent (aka Vil) even closer to you and took over the lead. You weaved your way across the dancefloor, twirling and stepping. The other dancers, the room, everything faded away as you danced with the most beautiful person in the world. This was it, now or never. You had to win him over! You gazed into Vil's eyes. The mask made it difficult to see him but you thought you caught a glimmer in his eye. As the song came to a resounding close, you did one last elegant spin before delicately dipping Vil. You heard him gasp as your hand held his back. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath.  

Between heavy breaths, you spoke. “I know it’s you under there.” You smiled with triumph. “Beautiful Vil.” You felt him tense under your touch. You helped him stand upright and clasped his hands. 

“Heh. Did I give myself away?” he asked tentatively. You smiled even wider. 

“Vil, you are the sun. I would recognize you anywhere.” You squeezed Vil’s hands. “There’s something I want to tell you.” 

“Please tell me.” 

“Villy,” You took a deep breath. You’ve been waiting for this. “You're an amazing person. I've never met someone as dedicated and hardworking as you are. Every time I look at you, you take my breath away. I’m crazy about you and I want to be with you. I know I may not be worthy of you but I promise to become someone who is! I'll work really hard and-" Vil cut you off. 

“Darling... Take the mask off.”  

Without hesitation, you took your mask off. Vil did the same. Under the dim lights, there he was. His smile lit up your heart. He cupped your cheek with his hand and looked deep into your eyes. Finally. You could see his beautiful violet eyes, sparkling like stars. 

“You're an idiot.” 

“Huh?! Hey! What's that supposed to-"  

“How could you possibly think you aren't worthy of me?” Vil smiled. “You want to know what my favorite thing about you is? How you remain so kind and unapologetically yourself. So many things have happened to you since you ended up in Twisted Wonderland. Don't you remember when I overblotted? You were my greatest supporter, offering your shoulder to cry on and a listening ear when I needed one. You are so, so wonderful. And I am so thankful to have you in my life.” Heat rushed to your cheeks. Vil had never complimented you like that before. You almost didn't know what to say. 

“So… even though I'm a potato, you feel the same way? You like me too?” You asked. Vil smiled again and you sighed. 

“Well, they say actions speak louder than words. May I kiss you?” 

You nodded so fast, you thought your head was going to fall off. As your faces moved closer and closer, you closed your eyes. His lips met yours. Warmth spread from your lips all the way to your toes like a flower blooming in spring. You wrapped your arms around Vil's waist as his fingers tangled in your hair. Your mind went blank as the kiss deepened, the feeling of his soft lips moving against yours was enough to make you see stars behind your eyes. 

All too soon, Vil pulled away. He chuckled as he saw your pouting face. He planted a kiss on your nose but there was no way that was enough for you. You wanted more. Vil slipped your mask onto your face before putting his back on. He took your hand and led you away from the dancefloor. The music was nothing but a muffled booming in your ears as the warmth from Vil's hand enveloped yours. You followed him to the door leading to the gardens. The fairy lights decorating the tables and walkways hardly held a candle to the billions of burning stars that twinkled in the sky.  

Vil made his way down winding paths until he found a secluded area with a bench and topiaries. He turned to face you and took off his mask. The stars paled in comparison to this beautiful man standing in front of you. You took off your mask and threw your arms around him and kissed his sweet lips. Euphoria overcame you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and returned your kiss. A thought struck your mind and you pulled away. 

“A mirror! I need a mirror!” You exclaimed. You whipped your head around looking for one but there were none to be found. Vil cleared his throat. You squealed in glee as he handed you a compact mirror. Leave it to Vil to always be prepared! You flipped it open and gazed at your lips. You grinned. Blue stained your mouth from Vil's lipstick, proof that he was yours and you were his. It was perfect. 

“Wow! Dreams really do come true.” You said. Vil raised an eyebrow at you but you only smiled at him in response. “So... what now, Villy?” He tapped his chin deep in thought. 

“Well, there is one thing I was curious about. I wonder if you wouldn't mind humoring me?” 

“Of course! What is it?” You asked. 

“Was it you who left all those gifts outside of my bedroom door? And the broken perfume bottle and the written note were also from you, right?” 

“Uhhh...” Your voice trailed off. “What if I did?” 

“You are such a silly thing.” Vil laughed. “Did you really do all of that for me?”  

“I wanted to make you happy and I’m glad it worked.” You sighed. “I love your laugh.”

“You know, there are other ways to make me happy,” Vil said and winked at you. You closed the space between you and kissed him. You pulled away and cupped his face in your hands. Your heart soared as Vil's face softened and his lips curved into a small smile. He took your hands in his and twirled you around. Together, you danced under the starry sky, the echo of the music in the ballroom, leading your steps. A whole month. You waited for this moment for a whole month. It was worth every single second, and you would gladly do it all over again just to live in this moment once more. 

[pinktrashgoblin]

SERIOUS POST.

This may have some uncomfortable topics. But please read this whole thing. It’s important to be transparent, and I don’t want Cin to spread more shit.

my deepest apologies to people who are just here on my blog and reblogging my work for fun.

EDIT: I can’t believe I have to say this but don’t fucking harass anyone mentioned in this post. That just reflects on YOU.

Alright, Cin. Since you want a response so bad, here ya go.

So what is this whole thing about?

User @/cintagonisupset is going around telling people this.

I’m already seeing the impacts, having my friends come to me about this. You’ve got my hands tied, so I’m making my statement.

First and foremost: I‘m not going to pretend that I didn’t make dirty jokes in my server in the past, before my birthday when I was 17, a minor myself, and before I banned such jokes last year. With 100% earnest I know this was a bad idea, and I have taken the time to be more careful about what I say around certain audiences. I am not perfect. But in his haste to fuck me up, he left out some crucial details.

1: I was 17 at the time, a minor myself, and was and still am in high school. I was a high schooler, making high-school-tier jokes in a server of other high schoolers. I am not ACTIVELY MAKING THESE JOKES like he says I am, and I do not condone the idea of doing so.

2: I am autistic. I struggle with social cues, with decision-making and so forth. I am only recently 18, but that does not mean I am mentally or emotionally mature, far from it. Mentally I am still a child. I struggle more than the average person with judgement, and often slip up around those I let my guard down around. I am working on this to avoid things such as this.

3: I am incredibly susceptible to peer pressure. In a place where those jokes were made, I wanted to feel like part of the group. So, as I often do, I mirrored behavior to feel like I fit in. I wasn’t sitting my high-school ass down and going “Let’s make raunchy jokes with kids!”, I was thinking in terms of “Maybe if I talk like them, they’ll like me and I’ll fit in somewhere” without fully realizing what everything meant, and without being able to properly process the social queues associated.

4: This was MONTHS ago. I do not actively do these things, nor condone them, I think it’s fucked up and I’ve done everything I can to be better than that. But to misrepresent the situation as me actively doing so isn’t great either.

So with that out of the way.

Do I think it was a good idea? No, absolutely not, but let’s not pretend that this is unheard of in high school and definitely on the internet. Since the dawn of time kids have made stupid jokes with one another. I was a middle schooler once and a high schooler now, I know exactly what goes on in those places. Let me restate: that doesn’t make it good, but let’s not pretend I’m the only high school kid who’s ever made a joke like that around their peers.

My point is, once this thing has become so normalized all over the place, in school, in media, it becomes difficult, especially for a neurodivergent such as myself, to deduce what to and not to do. I have fundamental principles and rules, but that does not mean I am not susceptible to being pressured into this sort of thing.

As I mentioned: I am not emotionally, or mentally, mature. I don’t know everything. I don’t fully comprehend the nuances of things. I am not always aware of what I am saying. I cannot understand social queues in the same way you do.

Make your conclusions as you will, but this is my stance, and this is the truth.

Also, maybe don’t tell people to kill themselves and that nobody likes them? Just a thought. (BTW: As mentioned I am autistic, it’s not as simple as “grow up”.)

TL;DR: I made raunchy/dirty jokes in my server when I was 17, in high school, with a bunch of other high schoolers, and Cin is telling me to end my life because of it.

Please consider my words. I have worked hard to build what I have, and feel it is important to be transparent. I want nothing but to make a positive impact on this community and the people within it. This does not mean I am perfect, but I am trying my best and my intentions are good.

Feel free to ask me, or leave opinions in the reblogs and replies. This is a conversation, not a preaching.

Also, about the art thief thing: I genuinely have no fuckin clue what he’s going on about there.

Edit: I have deleted the “P.S.” section regarding a suspicion I have to avoid further conflict.

[the-one-that-weeps]

I think a crucial part of the middle school Mizurui situationship for me is the pretend part. Yeah, sure, they're not friends, but this is the first time ever that someone willing talks to Mizuki without harassing them and it's the first time Rui has felt affection since... A long time.

So they pretend. They go to each other's houses, they try giving each other gifts, go to different places. They look around all these people and ask themselves "have we done it? Is this how normal people do things?" And realize they can't find the answer.

The phase doesn't last, it just doesn't feel right. Rui is much more comfortable just infodumping all about his newest work and Mizuki still isn't fully comfortable with going to the mall (especially if someone finds them looking at a frilly dress they definitely can't wear).

It's not what people would call a normal friendship. And that's okay; they never do anything right. But this is the safest they felt in a long time. And 2 years later they still sometimes stay on call until two in the morning and they let each other's shoulders bump ever so slightly in the halls. And they both smell like home, even the littlest bit.