#so much so my work friends think i'm edgy

[safyresky]

in other news I am having some very good and fun interactions today.

my work wife upon me mentioning i'm gonna take a half hour lunch today for lieu time next week:

and a blinter coded richella interaction:

[longagoitwastuesday]

Every day I am haunted by the fact JJK could be amazing but it will be just idk Bleach or something

[complicit-rot]

i haven't been this social & talkative in Years someone drag me out back

[l3monlem0n]

Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>

SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering

Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun

She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband

As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)

Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already

Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke

OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier

"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months

Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode

Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol

Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper

You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...

...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)

Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever

friggin bug (very pos)

You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):

NOT judge her

Forced prom date (?)

Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery

The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast

This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof

We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot

There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?

We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk

Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded

Just N being a good boy :3

The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image

Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)

I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is

Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)

I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage

Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun

This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...

...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)

(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)

Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole

Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know you made shorts for Sora, Riku, and Kairi, but do you have any other thoughts about Kingdom Hearts?

Ik this is kinda vauge and you get these kind of asks all the goddamn time, but I hyperfixated on those games for most of elementary and middle school and its always cool to see your favorite Youtuber talk about stuff you really like. Not to guilt trip you into answering this one or anything, just. . . I'm very tired and it would be very cool lol.

Again, saving my character design thoughts for some more shorts, but I adore Kingdom Hearts. Like, the first game really ISN'T much more than a cross-promotional branding exercise for Disney and Square, same as any of a dozen other similar crossover centric franchises; it's a Saturday morning cartoon show that wants to get you invested (or keep you invested) in a bunch of fancy IPs to buy toys of, but it's a really good one of those.

And it's a game that understands that the central thing that's going to hook people IN to that kind of thing is characters that are willing to believe in what they've got going on with one thousand percent sincerity. Which I think is the thing they nailed more than anything. Sora cares SO MUCH, and he wants to find his friend and his love interest (Kairi and Riku, respectively) SO BADLY, you can't help but root for the poor kid and want to believe in it.

Then, with the first game successfully managing to hook a solid fanbase, the creative team went "hey what if we had even MORE extremely earnest cool anime people getting deep in their feelings?" and now we're off to the races with Organizations and Oblivion Castles and fractions of 358 days.

And the thing that makes all the hyper-convoluted wheels-within-wheels plot machination nonsense WORK is that down, deep down, right at the core of what the franchise is always trying to say, is that love will save us. Yeah yeah hearts and darkness and unversed and nobodies and keyblades and blah blah blah (to be clear: I adore all that nonsense), but all of it is top-to-bottom in service of that singular central thematic clarion call.

Love will save us.

What holds Ventus together after Xehanort tears his heart apart? The love of Sora. What keeps Roxas the nobody from fading into Sora? The love of Xion and Axel, and Hayner, Pence and Olette. What brings Xion back? The love of Axel and Roxas. Hearts ring together and resonate and bind themselves to each other and there is no darkness so deep, no tragedy so absolute, no villain so foul that the cry of a loving heart cannot defeat it.

Roxas is a nobody doomed to darkness? Fuck you, Kingdom Hearts is love, no he isn't. Xion is a mere replica puppet, a failed experiment that nobody will remember? >>EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER<< get seasalt icecream'd on top of a clock tower at sunset, IDIOT.

Over and over again characters sink into despair and loneliness, they fear that their connections are fake or fading, they fear being forgotten or left behind (Riku in the first game, the breaking of Ventus, Aqua and Terra, Roxas thinking nobody would miss him, Aqua in the Realm of Darkness), and over and over again they are proven beautifully wrong. There is always a hand reaching out, there is always someone who will miss you. Love will save us.

And this absolutely gets hokey, of course it does, it's a saturday morning children's cartoon. It's a bit simplistic, maybe a bit naïve, but honestly in a world where you can't walk two steps without bleak-minded doomer cynicism forcing the assumption that nothing truly good is possible and that the worst will always happen, Kingdom Hearts is a story so absolutely drenched in hope, sincerely held, that it feels like a fucking balm.

Also, LITERALLY where the fuck else are you going to get Woody from Toy Story reading an edgy anime villain for absolute filth? Nowhere, that's where. ONLY Kingdom Hearts.

None of this is to suggest I don't have criticisms of the franchise or that it's faultless. I could talk for several hours unbroken about all my gripes and problems, chief among which is LET KAIRI DO THINGS OH MY FUCKING GOD the franchise is low key misogynistic towards its female characters sometimes but I am talking about the things I love here let me just be happy for a second.

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Tentatively

Summary:

You don’t want to tell him the truth, that most of your friends have grown up and don’t talk to you anymore, that while you love your family it’s too difficult to find time to travel and see them, that you are incredibly lonely.

Contains: Fem Reader, Death Mention (but only as much as you would expect given the source material) Word Count: 2,235 Read on AO3

You still feel strange a few hours after leaving the chatroom. Grim, who despite all evidence to the contrary, is actually the Grim Reaper, left pretty abruptly after telling you there is something incredibly wrong with your soul and you are unsure if you should be concerned or offended about the whole thing. 

After a disappointing meal of microwaved leftovers and an attempt at enjoying a relaxing bath despite your apartment’s abysmal water temperature, you find yourself laying back on your bed and staring up at the all too uninteresting ceiling as you wait for your hair to dry. The window above your desk is open and the cool breeze is pleasant, but you’re already getting the sense that you will have trouble getting to sleep tonight, despite Grim’s uncharacteristic insistence that you get some rest after today. 

There’s something so lonely about these summer nights, lonely enough that you find yourself scrolling through your contacts list, looking for someone ( anyone ) to talk to. Calling your parents this late will only make them worry, and all of your friends from uni have much better sleep schedules than you do and will already be out cold. You toss your phone onto the vacant pillow beside you and let out a sigh, that really only leaves one option. 

Hoisting yourself from the bed, you walk over to the desk and grab your laptop. Quickly tapping open the chatroom app and turning off your camera before hitting the call button. You push your lamp and pot-plant out of the way to leave room for the laptop on your bedside table and lay back down as you wait for an answer. 

You spend the first seven rings worrying that he won't pick up, by the eighth you are proven wrong.

“I thought I already told you to go to sleep.” He says in lieu of a greeting. 

All the lethargic energy in the room suddenly dissipates, and your mouth tugs up in a smile, “Hello to you too”

“I was being serious.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t my boss.” He huffs, “I am your reaper.” “Oh?” You reply, smirking to yourself, “ My reaper, are you? Just mine?” “No! I- I’m just assigned to you. That does not mean-”

You laugh, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just teasing, thank you for picking up, I mean it.” It’s quiet, but you swear that you hear a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the call, “I- well, I just wanted to be certain that you were not suffering any side effects from the soul connection.” He clears his throat, “You…aren’t…are you?”

“I’m having trouble sleeping, but I don’t think I can blame that on you. I suppose I feel a little jittery? But that makes sense given my emotional state right now.” “What is it?” “What’s what?” “Your uh- your emotional state.”

“Oh.” You say, feeling your heart beating a rapid tattoo behind your ribs, “Well, I dunno. I’m a little overwhelmed, I suppose. I really just thought you were an edgy cosplayer, and I mean, you still are but you are also literally the Grim Reaper, so I’m still just dealing with that I guess.”

“That is perfectly normal, then. Though you should have been feeling frightened the moment I contacted you, your reaction was quite delayed.” “Hey! I never said ‘frightened’ I said overwhelmed! That’s a completely different emotion.”

He chuckles, “Unable to stop thinking about me, then?” “That also isn't what I said.” Though, he isn’t entirely wrong, “I’m just worried about how I'm going to focus at work tomorrow when I’ll be spending the whole day looking over my shoulder to make sure some white-haired twink isn't about to commit murder upon me.” 

“White-haired what? ” “Twinnnnk~” You reply, “Look it up, I’m sure that will keep you busy for a few hours.” “I hardly need to be kept busy , I have important work to do.” “Like stealing my soul.” “Yours and others, I do not just follow you around all day.” He says dryly, “You are not that important. Also, I will not be murdering you. I am pushing you in the correct direction, one you have stubbornly been avoiding for far too long.” You hum quietly to yourself, reaching out to pat your cat where he sits next to you on the bed, “How was I meant to die anyway? Just out of curiosity, since you seem to know everything about it.” He doesn't answer for some time, and the deafening silence makes you regret even posing the question. 

“Do you really want to know?” He finally asks, “Most people never find out, because unlike you they die when they are supposed to.” “Hit me with it, Grimmy.” He groans, “Do not call me that.” then you hear him sigh, deeply, contemplatively, “You were supposed to die of food poisoning.” “Oh.” You reply, feeling your heart sink a little, “Damn, that sucks. That’s so…boring”

“Death often is.” “I guess, well, I guess I was hoping that the way I die might be interesting at least. What food would have poisoned me anyway?” “Ham sandwich.” “Yikes. Was the ham poisoned or something?” “No, just expired. On a related note, you do need to clean out your fridge more often.” He’s right. Your fridge is pretty nasty, and it kind of always has been. It’s a very low priority on your list of tasks.

“Grim?”

“Yes?”

You swallow, unsure how to phrase the real question hiding in the recesses of your mind, “could you…I dunno, kill me gently, if it comes to it? I mean, I just-“ you roll over onto your side, making eye contact with the black screen of your laptop, “If I have to die, I don’t want it to hurt.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then he replies, “I don’t want it to hurt you either.”

“That’s…sweet, Thank you.” “Lacking desire to see you suffer does not make me sweet , it makes me considerate .” He sighs irritably, “More importantly, does this mean you’re finally willing to hand over your soul?” You laugh, “ No! I just- I dunno, I had a weird day and I'm feeling kinda existential now.” You look through your window, staring up at the night sky, “Do you feel that way sometimes, or is it just a human thing?”

“I do not see how that’s any of your business.” “C’mon, Grim. Just play along for once, get silly with it.” You hear him huff on the other end of the line, you can picture the exact pouty face he must be making right now, “I have been a reaper as long as I can remember, and will continue to be one for the rest of my life, there is little for me to be existential about.”

“Hm.” 

“What?” He says brusquely, “What are you ‘hm-ing’ about?”

“The thought of having one job for the rest of my life is exactly the sort of thing that makes me existential, that’s all.” “Well you don’t have to work at the same job for the rest of your life, so what exactly are you complaining about?” “I mean, the rest of my life might only be a few more days.” You say, “Provided you win our bet of course, which you will not be doing.” “Do not doubt me, Sunshine. You may come to regret it.” You giggle, “Doubtful.” There’s a rustling sound on the other end of the call, you can only assume that he is also lying in bed right now, “I am quite literally death, and I even gave you concrete proof of this fact this evening.” his voice turns quiet, dare you think it, wistful, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” You shrug, even though he can’t see you, “You aren’t very scary.”

“I am going to take your soul .” “You are going to try and take my soul.” a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And even if you do, you’ve already promised to do it gently .” “I promised not to hurt you, I never said anything about being gentle .” 

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see the difference between those two statements.” He groans, and when he speaks again his voice is muffled. You suspect he has his face buried in a pillow, “You are infuriating. When I leave the chatroom for the evening I assume that I am done with you, I was not prepared for you to insist on continuing our conversation well into the night.”

“What, are you tired?” All goes quiet for a moment, and then, “No. Are you?” “Nope.” “Hmph, you should be at this hour, especially after a day of work.”

“I- well, I dunno…”

You don’t want to tell him the truth, that most of your friends have grown up and don’t talk to you anymore, that while you love your family it’s too difficult to find time to travel and see them, that you are incredibly lonely. You are tired, you have to be up at 5:00 to get ready for work tomorrow morning, but the idea of saying goodbye, of hanging up, makes something ache deep inside you. Something inside the very soul he wants to steal. 

“You don’t know, what?”

“Huh?” Grim huffs again, “You said, ‘i dunno’ and then stopped talking, which is very out of character for you, by the way.” “Oh? Did you miss me? Were even those brief seconds of silence enough to make you realize how much you love hearing my voice?” “I will hang up.” 

“Don’t.” You say before you have time to think better of it, “Please.”

“I-“ he clears his throat, “Only if you can act normally for the rest of our conversation.”

“I’m plenty normal, you’re the weird one.”

“What’s weird, how am I weird?”

You roll onto your back, staring up at the celing, “Oh i dunno, just the whole ‘I am death incarnate! I have come for your soul! I will connect my soul to yours! ’ schtik” 

“You know fully well that it is not a…what did you call it? A schtik?” He pronounces the word completely wrong, “Whatever that is, it is not one of those. I am death incarnate, I am here for you soul, and you were literally an active part in the soul connection.”

“Oh, about that soul connection thing, by the way.” He scoffs, “Your ability to change the subject at a whim is still strong as ever i see.” 

“I know, I’m very talented- anyway! I wanted to ask if you can do anything cool now that we have a soul link or whatever.” “I have already told you, I cannot control your body. As entertaining as it would be to embarrass you publicly, even my exceptional abilities could not do that” 

“Oh kay , how about something easier, then?” You feel the warmth of your cat as he snuggles up against your side and instinctively reach out to pat him, “Read my mind, go on!” “I cannot do that.” “C’mon, Grimmy, give it a go!” You squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m thinking about something real hard right now.” He sighs, “Are you thinking about your cat?” “ Whaaaat? How did you know?!”

“I didn’t know , i guessed. I can’t read your mind, but i am still attuned with your soul.” His voice has turned uncharacteristically soft, he’s almost whispering, “It… flutters …when you are happy, and your cat makes you happy. So I guessed…”

“So you’re a soul reader, then?” You ask, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach also feels oddly fluttery right now.

“That is not a thing. You’re just making things up now.”

“Try again.” You say, your mind unwittingly flooded with thoughts of soft white hair and judgemental red eyes. Of hands you wish were bare, of sharp toothed smiles. Your heart slows to a languid rhythm, and something you aren’t ready to put a name to curls warmly in your belly. You close your eyes, softly this time, and breathe, “What am i thinking about now?”

He goes silent for a long time, you can hear the slow, even draw of his breath. You can picture him laying back on his bed, hair splayed over the pillow, brow creased in concentration and you wonder if he is thinking about you too. After what feels like an age, he finally answers, “your…plant?”

You burst into laughter and any tension in the air shatters, “My plant?! What about my soul was screaming plant just then?”

“Well, I don’t know! It was just happy again, happier, even and I assumed that you were smart enough not to just think about your cat again.” 

“Yeah, you got me.” You lie, “it was my cat again.”

“Hells, every single day you find a new way to get under my skin.” He sighs, and despite his earlier statement, his next words come out almost fondly , “You need sleep, mortal.”

“Yeah.” You reply, feeling that ache tug at you again, “I probably do.”

“I will talk to you tomorrow, that is, if you survive until then.”

That gets a laugh out of you, and you can’t tell if that was his intention or if he was being completely serious, “I look forward to it. Remember to murder me nicely, Grim.”

“As nicely as I can, I swear.” You can hear his smile, “Goodnight, Sunshine.”

[herejusttosufferalong]

To tell you the truth, although I, like many others, got sucked into those 6 months of madness and would love nothing more than Luke and Nicola to find their forever in each other, I think it very unlikely as things stand.

I don't deny there may be feelings deeper than friendship between them, in fact I'm pretty sure there are. But love, outside fiction, is rarely enough for a relationship to make it all the way through.

Love must exist within the confines of society. His, hers, theirs.

I don't see Nicola fitting in with his nearest and dearest, especially don't see her fitting in with his circle of intimate friends.

Likewise, I don't see Luke really fitting in with her own circle of friends. He can try, but from what I've seen of him, he may feel too awkward to actually enjoy it.

That is to say, they just have very different dynamics within their personal lives.

They're also at different points in their carreer. This is a separate discussion from their level of achievements, which I'll not touch upon. 

What I mean is this. 

I feel Nicola has a very clear idea about how she wants to advance in her carreer. Every step she takes is in service to her plan. Of course, there may be happy accidents, like the 'Shoes...more shoes' song, and she's savvy and flexible enough to make clever adjustments to her path. But, otherwise, she seems to be following her very own yellow brick road quite dilligently.

Luke, on the other hand, I feel hasn't yet decided what he means to do and how to go about achieving it. 

He wants to be considered for more serious, edgy roles. He wants to have a singing carreer. He wants to have a growing part within the fashion world. So what is he doing right now in order to make things happen? 

Nothing of import. From what we can see. Maybe I'll be proven a liar in the future, and I surely hope so, because I hate seeing such beautiful potential wasted. 

So, right now, I feel they're much too different to fit in together, mentally, personally and professionally, in my honest opinion. This view is derived strictly from what they've chosen to show and tell to the audience (us), together or apart. 

Love is subsumed to life. So sometimes, even if there's love in the middle, people still might not make anything of it. Or they might, but it would mean sacrifice and compromise from both parties.

They'd need to put in the work, and work hard, as Nicola says it in one of their interviews, in order to become a team, an unit, a true love match. 

You can't half-ass love if you want it to be the endgame.

That doesn't mean I'm not still holding out a small hope for them to show us they really are the stuff legends are made of. Because I am. 

If only for those smiles they have for each other. There's so much truth in them.

Right now, I'm just left waiting for July to end. 

"Right now, I'm just left waiting for July to end. "

Taking things a day at a time over here myself..

well said, thank you for sharing 💜

[drdemonprince]

I've noticed a pattern in anticapitalist books I read (specifically I'm talking abt Mark Fisher here, in Capitalist Realism). They do this great anticapitalist analysis etc and then go on to critique their students? and sometimes it's a bit ableist? it's like all the critical thought goes out of the window and they cannot understand the situation because for once suddenly they are in the authoritative position. It always gives me this "I don't understand these kids, back in my day-" vibe, and I see this with lecturers at university too. like Mark Fisher maybe we can think outside the box about your student who "needs" headphones to focus in class "even though no music is playing". and maybe it's not to do with the "Matrix"(????) I'm well aware this was written in 2008 but it's weird that I see this pattern continue today. Not to mention Mark Fisher took part in some ableist studies, and was a guy with questionable intentions on occasion.

it's like you Just said that reducing labour is good why are you calling your students lazy, that's so unprofessional and privileged. I wonder of coincidence that he is anti-meds when his right wing, pro-eugenics, accelerationist friend was addicted to amphetamines.

Or even just the amount of people who have written books about laziness and anticapitalism (excluding you) and just saying the most contradictory shit ever?? or not following their own ideology???

Anyway, I wonder if, when writing Laziness Does Not Exist, you came across any of this and were equally as baffled.

Materialism is just *so* true that high-status academics don't have a vested class interest in seeing their student struggles as legitimate or in recognizing the struggles of disabled people in general. For many edgy academic leftists having the correct opinions is just a way to flex one's intellectual status, not a lived experience they give a shit about. I'm not shitting Fisher in particular in saying this, it's more that it's a really widespread problem in the culture of these kinds of (very white, very academic, very cishet) leftists communities. You see the same kind of thing among some of the Chapo stan types, too, you don't have to be specifically an academic to do it -- lots of people throwing around the r-slur and flexing on how much they have read and doing fuck all for the oppressed people around them. I tend to find it especially common among people who inherited leftism from their (often academic) parents? Whereas leftist communities populated by Black & brown anarchists and working class people tend to fare a lot better in this particular respect.

Note that I'm not saying a person's identities are a guarantee of them being any more radical -- there's lots of liberals lurking in our midsts of all identities for instance -- more that someone's orientation toward power tells you a lot. and unfortunately there is an approach to leftism that puts a lot of stock in either institutional power via the academy, or in a kind of soft power of intellectual authoritativeness that tends to punish anyone who is supposedly less well read, less intelligent, lazy, needs disability accommodations, has trauma triggers, or what have you.

The simple answer is that power and privilege obscures other people's challenges from you, and the desire to preserve one's power (be it actually institutional academic authority or just the status of the person who supposedly knows the most in the room) leads to a lot of oppressive behavior. a lot of these guys that you're talking about believe in communism sincerely but they don't have humility, they believe themselves to be superior to most everyone else. and they tend to be white guys from wealthy families who either do not have any disabilities of their own, or they have the undiagnosed intj mastermind rational flavor of autism that makes you feel incredibly alienated from others but interpret that alienation as a sign of your intellectual superiority. (i had this type but i got better. a little)

[keysmashingfantasies]

Hi, could you please do a story about Chishiya and his feelings for reader. Kuina teases Chishiya for liking reader and she keeps trying to play Cupid but reader is oblivious. He ends up actually getting embarrassed over Kuina bugging him and starts acting awkward towards reader and she wonders why so she confronts him and he awkwardly explains how he has feeling for her. Lots of fluff. I just imagine him getting all shy over not having interacted with girls much.

yay!!!! i love fluffy pieces. in my delusional heart alice in borderland is just a big sit/romcom. and that's it.

no warnings for this one. very vanilla and sweet. also for the sake of SHIT going DOWN on s2, this will be set on the Beach.

"What are you doing?", Kuina came closer with a smirk leaning over the railing with a smirk, next to Chishiya, that was well hidden beneath his hood, watching over you.

"Nothing. What about you?", he tried to appear nonchalant but, unfortunately, Kuina knew him too well.

"It doesn't look like nothing", she replied in a sing song voice, her eyes crinkling with a big smile that held a cigarette tight. "It looks like you're spying and drooling over the girl from the diamonds game!", she kept going, laughing up a storm. Thankfully, her cheery demeanor blended well with the other residents that were drinking and having fun despite all things.

Chishiya had a crush. What was first admiration stemmed from an outstanding performance from her on a diamonds game that took place in a music shop of all places, worthy enough of being invited to be an executive member, now grew into a full fledged crush. And much to Chishiya's dismay, Kuina clocked him immediately and now wouldn't leave him alone.

"Seriously, you've been at it for what? Almost a month now! Go talk to her! We can die at any moment here!", Kuina was growing frustrated. She missed her friend. When he wasn't thinking about his plans and improvised weapons, he was moping around like a highschooler in love and it was pissing her off.

"And you want me to do what? To throw myself at her like Niragi does with these poor women? I don't even have time for this anyway. Didn't have before this, don't have it here, probably not when we get out", he said. Kuina sighed. He really did sound like a mopey lovesick edgy teenager. Thankfully, he had a big sister figure and she was ready to intervene.

It didn't took long at all for Chishiya to keep bumping into you, the pair of you seemingly moved by the strangest coincidences.

First, it was Chishiya being interrupted by knocks at the door while he was tinkering with the tools he managed to sneak into the Beach under his hoodie, coming face to face with you.

"Uhhh. Good night?", he asked, suddenly flustered. Why were you in his room?

"Oh! I'm so so sorry. Kuina told me...", you paused, to check at the plaquette with the room number. "Kuina told me that this was her room. Oh, am I interrupting? Are you... her boyfriend?", this may be a weird way to check but this was the perfect chance for you to see. You've been seeing him in your peripheral ever since the game. You could barely concentrate, he was so cute.

"No! No I'm not her boyfriend. We are just friends", he said.

"Oh! Sorry, one of us must've gotten confused", you said, suddenly awkward. Now what? What would you say to keep the conversation going? It didn't matter because Chishiya shot your hopes down immediately.

"Well, actually her room is in this hallway. 516. Not 502", he said.

"Oh, okay. My bad", you said, turning to walk away, much to the dismay of Kuina who was peeking around the corner to see if her efforts at Cupid were working.

Then it was Kuina asking for help to find Chishiya constantly.

"Have you seen Chishiya lately? Can you help me find him, please?"

"Uhm... So many people. I wonder where Chishiya is"

"Can you check on Chishiya for me? I think he went to the roof".

Meanwhile, he was avoiding you like the plague. In his mind you certainly caught what was happening and was bothered by it. He, on the other hand, was embarrassed as could be. After having a stern talk with Kuina to get her to stop, he decided to save himself even more embarrassment and just avoid you.

You wondered what you did. Usually, Chishiya was stoic and serious. So when you greeted him good morning and he looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, you knew you fucked up. But when Chishiya made his best to avoid you during a game, almost causing both of you to fall in a trap, it was time to do the grown up talk and talk to him.

Thankfully, you knew exactly where to find him now. After checking his room, 502, and getting no answer, you went to the next best spot.

You were right. Chishiya was there, on his spot, watching the sky. You remembered the time you had found him here by request of Kuina, and that you had compared him to a cat on a window. He gave you one of his "smiles", which was really just a quirk of his lips up, but now you wondered if he was just being polite.

"Chishiya?", you asked, slowly approaching as to not to frighten him.

"Y/N!", trying to not frighten him did not work. He composed himself quickly though. "What are you doing here?", he said in his normal nonchalant fashion.

"I... Do you mind if I join you?", you asked, sitting next to him in the concrete.

"No, no... Not at all", he mumbled. "What brings you here?", he said before his eyes grew a bit. "Is Kuina looking for me again?".

"What? No. I was just wondering... Lately, you've seem off. Like you're mad at me or something. I just wanted to know if I did something to upset you. I'm not trying to make enemies, especially not here", you seemed so sad, something clenched inside Chishiya's chest.

"You didn't do anything. I was embarrassed", he said after a few beats of silence.

"Embarrassed of what? You did nothing?", you said.

"Well, you see... Kuina is a good friend of mine. And she's been trying to help me. By making us bump into each other. Because since that first diamonds game I... You've... You were... I admire a lot what you did in that game, the way you played", he said.

"Admired?", a dopey smile made its way into your face. You had to add "cute guy you're into says he's admired you" to your list of evidence that you're all actually in heaven.

"Yeah. And as time went on it became a sort of... infatuation. Kuina was trying to help by inconveniencing you. And then it made me embarrassed to think it was because of me", he was looking forward, more through you than at you.

"You didn't need help. You could've just talked to me, like we're doing right now", you said, moving closer to look into his eyes. You felt your heart in your throat but he was so nervous you didn't want him to get even more flustered in case you looked at him funny.

"Yes but I wouldn't know how if you didn't come to me. This hasn't exactly happened before, didn't have the time", he said.

"Oh", you said. "Well, that's fine with me. And we're here now. Talking. And since we're on the topic, I have some sort of infatuation with you too", you said.

"And what now?", he gave you a smile. One of his Chishiya smiles.

"Now we stick together. And one day, when we're back, maybe go on a date", you extended your hand to him.

"Hmmm. Short term?", he took your hand in his.

"We find Kuina. And we thank her. And then we go to 502", you gave him a smile that made his heart do somersaults. He really owed Kuina big time.

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

Chapter 2: Edgy and Dull

biker!Eddie Munson x fem!artist!reader

🚨18+ONLY, mature themes, eventual smut, mention of poverty, mention of hard times at home, alcohol consumption, smoking, some physical violence, cheating (not on reader), angsty situation, I'm not sure what else to put here, please let me know if I missed something. Word count: 4.4k

Series Masterlist Playlist

---------

“Sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull, and

cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull”

“You know that saying, ‘shit happens and then you die’?” You had your headphones around your neck, makeup done, but only your sweats and ratty t-shirt on as you walked through the kitchen. “Shouldn’t it be, ‘shit happens and then you live’? Cause that just feels more accurate.”

Your roommate Katie had the day off, and she was reading a book in the love seat by the window, but you had to be at work by 2 to get ready for the gallery opening.

“I think we should get the latter one tattooed on us,” Katie responded, her eyes never leaving the pages of her book.

It had just occurred to you, only moments earlier, that you were missing an earring. Not a big deal, they weren’t expensive or anything, but you didn’t want to step on it in your bare feet or find out that your cat Charlie ate it by accident. You tossed your bed and couldn’t find it, and later you were on your hands and knees going through the carpet with your fingers when Katie brought her book down so that just her eyes were showing over the top.

“You lose your dignity again?”

“Yes, but also,” you stood up with a sigh, brushing yourself off. “I lost the pair to those silver hoops I always wear. Oh well,” you were running late, per usual, and getting distracted with the chore of looking for an insignificant piece of your jewelry was not helping.

You just didn’t want to go into work, that was the problem. You got dressed listening to Supernova by Liz Phair, and then you had to go into the third bedroom you used as a studio to grab something, and the three works in progress sitting there glaring back at you made you pause. The irony of it was, you'd started working at the gallery to be closer to the art world, but you worked so much, you rarely had time to paint. It was the definition of madness.

“See you at 5:30,” you called to Katie as you walked out the door. You were both suckers for any event that offered free snacks and booze. “Oh and please check Charlie’s food dish before you leave. Okayloveyoubye.”

As you approached your car where it was parked at the curb, your eyes locked on the brand new, passenger side tire, and you couldn’t help but think about the hands that put it there. You had a flashback of his smile, the way his mouth moved when he talked, the way the back of his hand grazed your knee when he was reaching for the CB. You had experienced an instant familiarity that didn’t make any sense to you.

You know what else didn’t make sense? You forgetting your keys inside because you’d be shit out of luck trying to get your car started without them. Also, you still had your slippers on.

------------

The sign in the window of Moon River Gallery announced the showing of original paintings and sculpture by Anna Stavros and Beckett Miller, and you were setting up the beverage table when the owner of the gallery, Judith, showed up. She only came for the events, to mingle and show off to her friends, but she wasn’t one to lend a hand, and she was never available when you had questions. In some ways, it was nice, because you could take care of the space and the other employees without too much micro-managing, but when she did show up---it was always emotionally taxing.

“You’re not wearing that today, are you?” Judith asked you, the sides of her mouth jerking down, her brows clenching together.

What you had on was similar to what you always wore at the gallery; it was simple and classic so that the customers and clients could focus on the artwork and not on you. But, it wasn’t cashmere or Ralph Lauren, and Judith was an honest to god snob. If she knew that most of your clothes were bought second hand at thrift stores, she’d have a stroke right in the middle of the showroom floor.

You looked down at yourself. “Um, yes. Yes I am,” even though you knew what you had on was fine, her comment still made you self-conscious and you crossed your arms over your chest.

You walked the floor with Judith to show her how you set everything up, and to give her an idea of how many had already RSVP’d. You were looking down the list of confirmed clients when a name toward the bottom caught your eye.

...Charlene Gregson & guest….

A few guests arrived early and Judith went over so that they could sing their praises to her. You caught the eye of one of your helpers, Jeffery, and waved him over, mouthing for him to meet you around the back of the stairs.

“Hey,” you brushed a piece of hair off of your face. “First of all, you’re doing great. The artist statements look amazing. But also, are you the one who took the confirmation for Charlene Gregson? I don’t remember her being on the original list.”

At first, Jeffery looked worried, like maybe had done something wrong, but then he softened and got a little flustered. “It’s one of Judith’s friends, they know each other from the country club.”

Judith was supposed to run all of the invites by you, so that you could be prepared, but she usually just expected you to read her mind.

“Do you know who the guest she’s bringing is?” You ask, thinking it would be her husband, and how you were curious to get a good look at both of them.

At the front of the gallery, Judith had her arms wide, taking bold credit for how everything was set up.

Jeff inched closer and whispered. “You’re going to love this. Apparently, she has a bodyguard that she takes with her to events.”

You turned to Jeff with your mouth open, assuming it was a joke, a permanent look of surprise frozen on your face, and it made him stifle a laugh.

The two of you stepped further to the side, behind one of the dividers. “A bodyguard?” You repeated what he just said, thinking maybe you got it wrong. “Is she running for president of the United States or something?”

“It’s so strange, right?” Jeff looked to see where Judith was and then kept talking. “The rumor is, she was robbed at gun point a few months ago, and ever since then, she’s been paying a member of the Coffin Kings to be her driver and her bodyguard whenever her husband is away.”

You held your breath at Coffin Kings. Wasn’t that the motorcycle gang rumored to have a clubhouse at Munson’s Garage?

“Did you get the name for this body guard by chance?” You had a weird feeling, but passed it off as sampling too much of the pre-packaged deli cheese.

“No, I’m sorry,” Jeffery looked so sad, like he had just let you down in the biggest way.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, “ you patted his arm, and then noticed that Judith was beckoning for you. “We’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

-------------

Soon enough came exactly 42 minutes later.

You were in the middle of explaining the nuances and inspirations for a large mixed media piece by the artist Anna Stavros for a handful of people when Jeffery scooted up to your side and took your arm, whispering, “she’s here,” into your ear and, rightfully so, you completely lost your train of thought.

You excused yourself from the group, and asked one of the other employees to refill their wine glasses---because drunk people buy more art.

The gallery floor was packed. There was an art walk happening on the entire street, so some of them came and went, but a few were lifers who only bought art from Judith because of her family name.

You followed Jeffery around so that you could have a clear view of the front door and, there she was: tall, blonde, and tan. She was probably in her late thirties; she had a face like Bridget Fonda with the body and style of Sharon Stone.

You gulped.

But you choked on your own saliva and started to cough when you saw Eddie out on the sidewalk waiting for her, smoking a cigarette. Turns out, your gut had been right; it hadn’t been the cheese after all.

He looked...really good. He had on a black leather jacket, heavy with buckles and zippers, on over a button down dress shirt that was undone all the way to the middle of his chest, allowing the hint of several tattoos to peak out. He wore black jeans with boots, and his hair was down, long passed his shoulders. It was kinda messy and curly and you wanted to touch it.

“10 out of 10 would let the bodyguard bend me over in a dark alley,” Jeff said in your ear, and you silently agreed.

You turned to say something else to Jeff, but just then a guest touched his arm and engaged him in conversation.

You made a beeline through the crowd to introduce yourself to Charlene, but Katie intercepted you breathlessly. “I know I’m late, I’m so sorry, I took a nap and I didn’t set the alarm and---”

“It’s okay,” you tell her. You’re not looking at her though, your eyes are on Charlene who has now gone over to talk with Judith. “I’m glad you made it. Here, have my wine. Eat all of the shrimp you want. I’ll be right back.”

You watched through the front windows as Eddie sucked on his cigarette, hooked one thumb into his front belt loop, and leaned back against the lamp post at the edge of the sidewalk. You took another look around you, and then grabbed a beer from the ice bucket at the beverage table and headed out.

“Did you come to take my tire back?” You called out to him as you stepped from the threshold and started to close the distance between the two of you.

He threw you a dirty look at first, but then recollection dawned, and he offered not a smile so much as little quotations appearing on each side of his mouth. He straightened, sliding his back up the lamp post and flicked his cigarette.

“Well, well, well,” he jerked his chin at you. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You’re on my turf now, buddy,” you said, spreading your arms wide after glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one could see you from the window. “Thirsty?” You asked, extending the beer to him.

“How did you know what kind of beer I drink?” He asked with a few creases in his forehead, appraising the can as you handed it to him.

You shrugged. “It’s the beer I like, so, I guess that means you have good taste.”

Eddie looked tired. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes right away, and even though he put on a good, tough front, you could tell that he hadn’t slept well in days, maybe weeks. He dropped the butt of his cigarette to the sidewalk and crushed it with the toe of his boot as he cracked the can and took a swig.

The sidewalk was narrow and you pressed your back against the brick wall of the building across from him, allowing other art walk people to pass by as you talked.

He waited for a few pedestrians to pass by before he spoke to you again. “So, you’re gonna make me drink alone?”

“I’m on the clock,” you tilted your head, placing your hands behind your lower back so that your fingers grazed the brick behind you. “One of those beers and I won’t be able to stop.”

“I’d like to see that,” he said under his breath, putting his lips against the rim of his beer for another drink, trying is best to contain another grin.

“Wait,” he seemed to catch something a bit later than you gave it. “You work here? At this gallery?”

You could see that his face was a genuine mix of being shocked and impressed. His eyes shifted to the door a few times, and you wondered---was there also a hint of worry there? Fear that Charlene would come out and see him talking to you?

“I suppose you could call what I do work,” you returned, flippantly. “I can’t change a tire or do what you do, that’s for sure.”

“You don’t even own a tire,” he teased.

“Hey, that’s not true, I have the required number now, thank you very much.”

“You need to carry a spare in your trunk, just in case,” he wiped his mouth and put his chin to his chest, and then looked up at you from under his lashes. “Come by the shop some day, I have a few to spare. I won’t charge you.”

You were touched by the generous offer and it was a challenge to think of a new sarcastic thing to say.

“Do you want to come inside?” You knew deep in your soul that he wouldn’t; it was absolutely not his scene. Hell, it wasn’t even yours, to be honest. “There’s a lot of free food in there. Pounds of it, actually.”

His stomach grumbled and he worried for a beat that maybe you had heard it. He’d be able to grab a bite after he dropped Charlene off and she paid him. Every time he thought about her paying him, it made him cringe internally, like he was some kind of fuckboy escort service. But ever since Wayne got sick, he let her stick a couple hundred dollar bills in his pocket every now and then, because every dime helped.

“No thanks,” he shook his head, waiting again for another handful of pedestrians. “I don’t want the cops to get called on your party.”

You wondered why he said that. Was it because of how he looked? Or was there another reason? You wanted to ask, but then Jeffery came scrambling out onto the sidewalk, arms flailing.

“Hey, I need you!” He was in panic mode, but when he saw that you were talking to someone, he bashfully locked his fingers together in front of him. “Pardon me. I mean, I am in need of your assistance madame, posthaste.”

You pushed off from the wall and said, “duty calls.”

But then, Eddie pushed off of the lamp post and suddenly you were both close together in the middle of the sidewalk. You looked up at him, waiting, watching the way his lips parted as if he were about to say something.

“You should...if you’re not...if you have time later,” God he cursed himself for how he was babbling. Fuck, Munson, spit it out for godsake. She already thinks you’re a pimp and a loser, what else could go wrong?

“I mean,” Eddie cleared his throat. “If you’re free after this, my band is playing at The Hideout tonight. It’s a total dump, but the beer is cold.” He ended it with a little self-deprecating laugh that you recognized because you used it often.

You waved Jeff back inside and turned back to Eddie. “Um,” the answer you wanted to shout at him was YES, but you had a few things to consider.

You’re such an idiot, Munson. His internal monologue continued. Why would a woman like her ever be caught dead in a place like that with a guy like you?

“I’ll be here cleaning up until after 10. Will you still be there?”

It took him a few blinks to realize that you were accepting his invitation. “No, I mean yeah, that’s---we won’t even go on until after 10.”

“Okay, then, maybe I’ll see you later.” you started walking and smiled at him over your shoulder.

“Oh, wait,” Eddie called to you, remembering the earring he’d been carrying around in the pocket of his jacket, but you were already inside.

Just as you entered the gallery, Charlene Gregson was hugging Judith goodbye, and she brushed by you on her way out the door, smelling like suntan oil and Chanel No. 5. You waited, and then turned to see her go up to Eddie and kiss him on the cheek, before he went around to open the passenger side door of her black Porsche for her. She kissed him on the cheek? Why did this feel so… off? They weren’t dating and he wasn't just her driver/bodyguard. Something was fishy about it and you had the right might to find out.

------

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Katie whispered as the two of you made it on foot around the block from where you parked to The Hideout entrance. The venue was situated in a part of down with very few street lights, and so the only illumination as you approached were two neon beer signs in each window and a soft green fluorescent glow coming from inside the door. You could hear the music clear as day from outside, the beat thudding in your chest. It was coming from a jukebox: Possum Kingdom by the Toadies.

You passed by a long row of motorcycles parked out front and you thought about the biker bar scene in Pee Wee Herman’s Big Adventure when he accidentally knocked all of the bikes over and it made you laugh and bite your lip.

“Make up your mind,

and I’ll promise you

I will treat you well,

my sweet angel…”

Once the cloud of cigarette smoke cleared, you could see the stage in the back was empty, and you didn’t see Eddie.

To the right was a bar with a bunch of pull tabs in plastic boxes on the wall and three guys with beards wearing leather biker cuts, sat nursing their drinks.

“Do you see him?” Katie had her arm interlocked with yours now and she elbowed your ribs. She knew what he looked like from the few times she bought weed from him, but that felt like a bazillion years ago.

You shook your head, looking for a place to sit.

“Give it up to me

do you want to

be my angel?

So help me..”

That was when you felt a warm body come up behind you, breaching the wall of your invisible bubble, and you were about to kick whoever it was in the shin when you heard his voice in your ear:

“Now, you’re on my turf,” Eddie said. He took two long strides until he was in front of the two of you, and then he cocked one eyebrow up.

“This whole turf thing is getting serious,” you made eye contact with him and tilted your head. “We probably need to have some kind of dance off to settle it.”

He just licked his lips and made those familiar quotations show up on either side of his mouth, as if to announce that his lips were a statement in themselves.

Turns out, Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin wasn’t able to perform that night because their drummer broke his foot in a motorcycle accident.

“He’s loaded up on pain pills, he’ll be fine,” Eddie assured you after seeing the horrified look on your face. “We have someone who usually fills in, but he wasn’t available either.”

“So it’s just been me and my buddy Steve here hanging out,” Eddie finished. “I didn’t have you number, so I thought I’d just wait and see.”

Eddie was starting to make you feel a certain type of way, like when you put a chocolate chip cookie in the microwave for the perfect amount of time and it melts in your mouth.

“What do we have here?” A guy came up next to Eddie, and he had a thick head of dark hair with eyes all brown and pretty just like Eddie's. When he smiled, you could see that his right incisor was a gold tooth. He also had a leather biker kutte, or cut, on like the guys at the bar, there was a big tattoo on the side of his neck.

You felt Katie stiffen at your side. You had already made the introductions between her and Eddie, and they remembered each other, but now this guy was staring over at her with a certain level of elevated interest.

“Ladies,” Eddie gestured to the guy with the tattooed neck. “This is my buddy Steve. Steve, this is Y/N and her roommate Christie.”

“Katie,” she corrected. "Gosh, Munson, my feelings are hurt. How many times did we get stoned together back in the day?"

“Right, Katie, that’s what I meant.”

“Katie.” Steve Harrington repeated her name, blinking his big doe eyes, seemingly oblivious to everyone else in the room. He had a natural charisma and magnetism about him that was undeniable.

You could feel Katie’s skin getting hot. She was naturally funny and talkative, but she was suddenly retreating into her mute phase.

The boys invited you over to their table, and Katie made wide eyes at you as you went, wordlessly announcing that she thought Steve was hot. The next song on the jukebox started: You Could Be Mine by Guns n’ Roses, and that was when all hell broke loose.

Steve was about to reach the table when a big guy coming in the other direction shoulder checked him, knocking his arm back. You grabbed onto Katie and the two of you froze as Steve and the guy exchanged a few intense words. Eddie stepped in between with his back to you, acting as a shield for both of you in case it escalated.

“Get over it, man, that was fucking years ago,” Steve spat, standing his ground as the two had a bit of a stare-off.

The guy confronting Steve was maybe the same age, but he had more of a “clean cut” look so to speak, like he still clung to his glory days of being the captain of the football team in high school and tried to make it his whole personality. He was clearly wasted and stumbling on his feet a bit. You couldn’t understand what the whole thing was about, but it sounded like Steve might’ve had sex with the other guy’s girl at one point.

“Wrap it up, kids,” Eddie stepped forward. “We’ve got ladies present.”

The guy confronting Steve snapped a look at Eddie, and then his eyes landed on you and Katie, and he snorted.

“If they’re with you two, they’re not ladies. They’re nothing but cock sucking whores.”

Both you and Katie opened your mouths, shocked at the vitriol directed at the two of you for absolutely no reason, but as you were trying to understand why he said it, you noticed Eddies hands turn to fists at his sides.

“Someone needs to shut your mouth, it might as well be me,” and then Eddie swung at him, connecting his metal rings to the side of the guy’s face with a crunch of cartilage and bone. Katie yelped and stumbled back, taking you with her.

The guy Eddie punched recovered, his face already bleeding, and he lurched forward with an animalistic yowl, a long arm punch connecting with Eddie’s chin. Steve pushed the guy back, tackling him to the ground, wailing on his face with his fists as he went and people scattered. A wooden chair broke their fall and the arm rest splintered off.

The clean cut guy had two other friends, and they were both headed over to join in.

Eddie turned to you, his lip bleeding, piece of hair sticking to his cheek, his eyes wild. “Run! Get out of here!”

You didn’t want to leave him in that mess, but Katie was shouting your name and pulling at your arm, and the last thing you saw over your shoulder was one of the other friends try to swing on Eddie, but Eddie grabbed the guy and threw him to the ground.

“I’m too old for this, I’m too old for this!” Katie was repeating as you both raced to her car. She fumbled her keys twice. Just as she unlocked your door from the inside, you heard the sirens closing in: the cops were on their way.

You couldn’t let Eddie and Steve go to jail for defending you.

“Go around front,” you shouted as you slammed your door. “We need to get pick them up.”

“We need to WHAT?” Katie blanched, muttering to herself as she shifted into reverse. “I knew I should’ve never woken up from that nap.”

Her tires squealed as she rounded the corner, adrenaline rushing though both of you, your hearts racing. You rolled down the window as she screeched to a stop in front of the entrance. You couldn’t see Eddie, but you screamed for him, and you told Katie to honk the horn.

The sirens were getting closer.

That was when Eddie and Steve stumbled out of the door with a few other patrons, both with bloody lips and hands. You could tell by their faces that they hadn’t expected to see you there, but they were grateful. Speeding away on a motorcycle was not ideal in that moment, because two cop cars were already fishtailing around the corner, headed in that direction.

“GET IN!” You yelled, and the two of them realized in a split second they had no choice but to obey. Steve dove into the back seat first, followed by Eddie, and then you were shouting, “Gogogogogogo,” to Katie as she floored the gas and cursed you, saying she’d never go anywhere with you ever again.

Part 2.5

[strawbeariefaerie]

Miraculous DR: Me

Name: Astya

Well kinda, Astya is a diminutive.

Age: 18

Height: 5'8"

Occupation: Ballerina, principal dancer

Hobbies: Modeling, design, photography, drawing

Realtionship status: single and definitely not in love with my best friend

About me:

I spend most of my time dancing. It's my lifeblood. If I spend too much time without dancing my body feels drained like I'm missing something. There are times where I've fucked up sad performances because it's hard for me to stop smiling when I dance. It makes me SO happy.

I go through pointe shoes quickly because I love to put them on in my free time. It doesn't help that I have really high arches and if the shank is too hard I have to break it in 🥲.

I think ballet is the only community where people compliment your feet constantly and it isn't weird.

Also, I scripted that me and my boyfriend (who doesn't know he's my boyfriend yet) always get paired together for partner work which is cute, but it's also because I don't want someone I'm not comfortable with picking me up lol.

Favorite thing to do: Italian fouettés, I love how they look

Least favorite: plies, I don't want to do squats I want to spin around like a little fairy

Tattoos:

I have an insect wing tattoo on my back. It's actually technically not a tattoo everyone just thinks it is. I was born with them, they turn into real functional wings.

"that doesn't fit the DR!" Womp womp. I'm a fairy.

Alter ego:

Name: Ladybug

Powers: creation, reversing the damage caused by hawkmoth, healing and flight

Costume: similar to Shadybugs but less edgy. I have retractable wings that aren't technically part of the costume but nobody knows that they're really mine.

Relationship status: complicated

About:

Admittedly I could be better at PR. The first time I was heard speaking was me announcing Hawkmoth could quote "suck my dick" if he wanted my miraculous.

When it comes to reporters I have that whole deer in the headlights thing going on.

I did it to Chat Noir too at first, because I didn't know how to talk to him. When he said something I'd just: 👁️ 👁️

[kipperlillyclerickiller]

Exploring Unconventional Bad Kid/Ratgrinder Parallels

Obviously, when Brennan introduced the Ratgrinders in FHJY, some clear parallels in class composition popped up. Every member of the Bad Kids has a corresponding Ratgrinder who shares their general build/role in the party and (presumably) some of their psychological issues as well. But when I was rotating the characters in my mind, as one does, I realized that there were some other interesting character foils to be pointed out. I've listed them below under the read more, along with more detailed thoughts on what aspects of the characters are highlighted with each comparison.

Also I spent way too much time working on this, so I'm including a DNI banner on here (made by @kipperlillyforpresident, who also graciously let me bounce ideas off in the DMs)

Kipperlilly Copperkettle/Gorgug Thistlespring: the first parallel that i came up with. they both have issues around rage that are belied by their physical appearance, with klck being a tiny halfling who experiences an excessive amount of rage that doesn't "benefit" her adventuring-wise as she's a rogue, while on the hand, gorgug is a half-orc who started out as a barbarian in part because it is what he's physically predisposed to be, despite actually having an extremely gentle personality, only transitioning to artificer in his junior year. both have relatively normal middle-class backgrounds but still have issues; klck's anger issues regarding not having a tragic backstory are well-documented, but gorgug also has baggage that made him minimize his presence at the beginning of his high school career, stemming from growing up in a household where rage wasn't really considered at all bc it's an emotion so antithetical to the thistlesprings' way of existence (to be clear, i think the thistlesprings are great parents; it's just that they didn't really know how to address this aspect of gorgug's development)

Ruben Hopclap/Fabian Seacaster: black boys showing off the sensitive side of masculinity. last episode established that the ratgrinders are living in ruben's mansion, which he presumably bought with his rockstar money and lives in without any parental figures, meaning that he and fabian have similar living situations and probably similar issues with trying to avoid loneliness that result in attention-seeking behavior (ruben's music career and fabian's max legend status). finally, the turncoat potential: fabian has admitted to listening to ruben's music and beefed with gertie bladeshield against the rest of the bad kids. meanwhile, ruben's experiencing some sort of guilt/reluctance with the ratgrinders' plan as expressed through his interactions w/ wanda childa. i believe they can bridge the bad kid/ratgrinder divide and i want them to be friends sooo bad

Ivy Embra/Fig Faeth: most straightforward similarity is their sylvan elf heritage, but i think that the similarity that matters the most would be their image/self-portrayal, with ivy being a sort of mean girl with an edge, similar to the type of person that fig wanted to portray herself as in freshman year (even though fig is actually much more soft-hearted/sentimental). this comparison is honestly more of a what-could-be scenario that sheds light on potential alternate facets of fig's story bc 1) ivy being an elven ranger is pretty similar to sandra lynn but has the edgy persona fig only took on after she found out about her tiefling heritage and 2) we have literally no idea what's going on with ivy's emotional landscape. still, this comparison compels me, especially in light of finding out how porter and jace groomed the ratgrinders, and the way that sandra lynn got used by bobby dawn when he was an adventurer. it's like a dark mirror of what could have happened to fig if the circumstances were worse (and the fact that bobby dawn is a teacher in aguefort rn and was also collaborating with porter to an extent.... the cycles are cycling!!)

Mary-Ann Skuttle/Riz Gukgak: just little guys. specifically smaller races often stereotyped as villainous and acting in the service of the party rather than for themselves, though while we see that riz acts for the party out of genuine passion, mary-ann seems to be more apathetic. both are disconnected from regular teenage social norms, generally unbothered/unaware of looking "uncool", and more focused on their personal interests, as mary-ann has her plushies and riz has his mysteries (and his business cards from freshman year lol). even when riz joined all the school clubs this year, he did it for the sake of kristen's campaign/getting scholarship money to help his mom more than for his own reputation. another prominent similarity is a heavy compartmentalization of emotion: we don't really know what's going on with mary-ann but she hasn't shown any emotion even when trying out for bloodrush and seems remarkably unbothered for someone who's been presumably been shatter-starred. riz, in contrast, has a lot of emotions/anxieties but channels them into mystery solving and other activities, an approach encapsulated by the baron quote from fhsy: "You love the truth. You seek it so much that you cut your hands upon the inside of crystals. But, you use deception to protect yourself from something you fear." riz also isn't very forthcoming with his emotional state, evading questions from his mom and Jawbone, as well as his friends. His initial drive to solve mysteries stemmed from the emotion from his father's death, but iirc he didn't even tell the bad kids about how pok died until sophomore. And now, he's grinding in school/extracurriculars for scholarships to avoid considering the possibility of the bad kids splitting up

Buddy Dawn/Adaine Abernant: catty and blonde. (jk) both of them feel anger prominently and express it in their spellcasting (versus a more martial class), but in very different ways. adaine's whole arc throughout freshman and sophomore year has been about accepting that she has the right to be angry about the way that her parents abused her, and that her anger can be a source of power in her spellcasting; contrast the way she brained doreen with the ladle in the first battle with the corn cutie bc she didn't know what to do versus later battles in sophomore and junior year when she's learned adaine's furious fist. on the other hand, buddy uses his cleric spellcasting as a healer in order to sublimate discomforting feelings and avoid dealing with the idea of agency and consequences of emotions like anger. his whole conversation with kristen is basically him going "i don't feel anger because i repress it so deeply and i don't engage in violence, just help other people kill because that is helio's will. my hands are clean tho :)" (he is so funny) additionally, adaine has found a support system in her adventuring party, as well as jawbone and ayda, while buddy is the odd one out in the ratgrinders as lucy's replacement, isolated from preexisting support systems as he has just moved from highcourt and subsequently becoming so very vulnerable to getting shatterstarred

Oisin Hakinvar/Kristen Applebees: idk these are the only guys i have left. ok my original idea was they both have plot-relevance related to adaine's summons, with oisin hijacking adaine's dust mephits to tamper with the cloud rider engine and whatever the fuck is gonna go on with K2 in the next episodes. also have a narrative presence defined in part by the women they're crushing on, with kristen dealing with her attraction to tracker/gertie/women in general throughout all the campaigns and oisin being introduced as seemingly flustered by adaine's attention. but honestly i think the strongest parallel is that they're both haters (kristen calling klck "4dogs" and oisin calling buddy dawn "hayseed", fight!)

and of course, how could I forget...

Lucy Frostblade/Gilear Faeth: the Chosen Ones. both have plot relevance and relation to Ankarna through their ancestry. both just have a melancholy vibe. ppl from mountainous cultures often live off dairy products... i'm gonna extrapolate and assume that lucy loved blueberry yogurt

[utilitycaster]

What is the d20 meltdown about? 👀 If you don't mind getting into it

I literally don't know other than vague shit because I'm semi-avoiding spoilers. I'm making this nonrebloggable because we're in pure speculation country.

From what I have gathered, people are mad because I think the Bad Kids kill the Rat Grinders (another adventuring group that's been set up as their bitter, jealous rivals from the start) and they want...redemption or some shit? This is absurd to me like this party was set up as The Enemy from the start.

I am 4 episodes behind so I can't speak to this, and also I admittedly have a rather low opinion of the D20 fandom at large for a number of reasons despite being a big fan of D20 shows, but: I just by chance watched the scene that I would say counts as a point of no return for at least some the Rat Grinders. Like, actually some of the most villainous shit I've seen on this show amplified by how petty and small and purely fueled by jealousy the motivation is.

My guess as to why the D20 fandom is, per whispers on the wind/texting my brother who is caught up/talking to friends not avoiding spoilers, having a meltdown about it is because people have this idea of Brennan Lee Mulligan always making capitalism the BBEG, or occasionally religion or politics.

That is untrue. He does hate capitalism, and that is a theme in the (real-world-ish set) Unsleeping City, but ultimately the thing Brennan sees as the villain is a willingness to hurt, exploit, and dehumanize others for your own goals and benefit. Capitalism and religious corruption are two major examples of this, but in the end, the worst thing you can do is kill people out of a desire for power, or attention, or spite. What Brennan truly hates is what we on Tumblr call a tar pit.

Now. My much more pointed analysis? Kipperlily (and presumably the other Rat Grinders) are deeply entitled people jealous of the Bad Kids, who aren't as academically strong at times but who have leveled up through saving the world at least three times. How many people does killing rats so much that you hit the high levels of D&D save? or even help? Like congrats, you're level 14 from killing rats real good. These guys stopped the fucking Night Yorb. Of course they get the fame and glory, you entitled, self-absorbed little brats. Do you not understand how this fucking works? This is underscored by the fact that they've definitely murdered at least one of their own and almost certainly two (and a teacher to boot) at least in part to get at the Bad Kids.

And herein lies my feeling as to why the D20 fandom is really melting down. Because the loudest and most unpleasant contingent (which is probably why the server is, ultimately, shutting down all discussion channels) have always struck me as entitled self-absorbed little brats who demand precisely what they want when they want it (and also have the literary analysis skills on par with the 3/4ths of a stick of Monterey Jack cheese currently in my fridge) and they're seeing, in real time, that in this story, they're the villain.

But: I haven't seen the next 4 episodes and I could be getting the details of the plot wrong (not the first 15 episodes though, and I do not think the Rat Grinders are going to make the world's best Heel-Face turn in 3-4 episodes, and at this point they're so clearly the villains that to deny it is to admit truly earth-shattering levels of stupidity) and so: nonrebloggable. I'm hoping to catch up this weekend though on both the show and the hot goss, and if I'm right this will become rebloggable.

ETA: I am caught up making this rebloggable but I'm actually more confused, because as my posts indicated this was not even like, edgy. Like I assumed maybe there was a twist where the Rat Grinders appeared to regret their actions or something but failed to do anything about it, making this a little bittersweet? but no there literally was nothing, they went into the final battle still like hell yeah we're going to be the living worst.

[descendant-of-truth]

When are we gonna acknowledge the fact that the whole "Sonic is super cheerful around Shadow who finds him annoying" thing only started in Shadow the Hedgehog and that this isn't, like. their default

You wanna know what their original dynamic was? Sonic getting ticked off by Shadow's very presence, who would stop in the middle of anything no matter how urgent and time-sensitive it was just to mess with Sonic.

(He got sidetracked from his own mission to save Rouge from THE EXPLOSIVES THAT HE SET because the urge to make fun of Sonic was too strong. what is wrong with him)

And it's Sonic who starts their first fight, by the way. He was clearly taking Shadow much more seriously than the other way around; he genuinely wanted to fight, while I'm pretty sure Shadow just wanted to have some fun and show off. (AS THE BOMB IS STILL TICKING)

But at the same time, most likely because he was having fun, he seemed to be hoping that Sonic would prove himself to be something more than just... Some Guy. Why else would he seem disappointed that Sonic could be killed? And so impressed (dare I say proud) when it turned out that he survived by using Chaos Control with a fake Emerald?

All of the animosity was on Sonic's end - Shadow was the one who wanted someone to rival him. He never disliked Sonic, or found him annoying to be around. If he did, he wouldn't have spent so much time around him to begin with.

And they were somehow like this in Heroes, too. Despite his amnesia, Shadow once again listens to Sonic talk for a few seconds and immediately decides that he needs to taunt him. Searching for the answers to his identity can wait, he just thought of a great comeback and needs to style on this random hedgehog for a bit

Then you've got the absolute whiplash of Shadow's game, where all of a sudden Sonic is Super Friendly towards Shadow, who's having none of it. Even if you try to make the argument that Sonic is trying to be friendlier on purpose because he wants to bond with Shadow more, the game portrays it as if this is just How Sonic Is.

Sure, I'd expect him to be picking fewer fights with Shadow when they're working together to save the world, but he's like. borderline giddy all the time. it's kinda funny but so, so confusing in the grand scheme of things.

Sonic 06 gave a much more sensible portrayal of how the two would talk to each other after they're done being enemies, I think. There's a little bit of rivalry in there, but it's not born out of them conflicting with each other. There's no hesitation to work together, no grumbling from Shadow, and Sonic isn't being uncharacteristically excitable about it.

(Plus they retained the silent communication thing they had going at the end of SA2, which is nice)

Unfortunately, 06 was the first and only time that we would see the two of them written this way, as friends who maybe don't "hang out" but aren't the type to bicker or turn everything into a competition at the expense of practicality.

There was no hesitation to the respect they had for each other, either, which is easily the most baffling part of their current portrayals. Not even their Boom counterparts had any hangups about that, and they were legitimately antagonistic towards each other most of the time.

Case in point, I think it's very easy to look at their designs and put them into stereotypical little boxes where Sonic is the ray of sunshine while Shadow is too edgy to find him anything but annoying, but that's just. not how they are at all, and the actual ways their personalities used to bounce off of each other was both funnier and more interesting in my opinion

[canmom]

reading Brainwyrms by Alison Rumfitt. it's interesting. clearly part of the post-Topside wave of trans lit, with the same 'plugged in to twitter' energy, but way more British about it. which means most of the allusions are very transparent to me. it's a combo of... hardcore kink driven romance as the main arc, in a near-future setting in which TERFism goes further to the point of outright bombings, and a scifi element with alien brain parasites that it's gradually building towards.

compellingly written, I'll give it that for sure - I lay down to read for a bit and before I knew it I'd read like a third of the book. the main character's disaffected, traumatised air is well observed, and the kink doesn't hold back.

I think my reservation with it so far is that it feels a little too much like a polemic blog post about the way things are going. the MC Frankie is a trans woman with a pregnancy kink who survived a bombing at a GIC and now works in social media moderation - it's all stuff that is blatantly Relevant To The Argument, as it were. it's tricky to criticise it for that because it's like, what you're saying is that it's tightly constructed and thematically consistent and that's bad somehow? but I think I've come to feel that I like fiction to bring me something a little new and unfamiliar.

the chapter I most enjoyed so far was actually a more metaphorical, abstract interlude, in which resistance to fascism is cast as becoming 'one mass of queer flesh, which now grabbed and clawed...'; 'faces locked in kisses until they became one face. the cops would try to pull at this mass, but to no avail'. very 'faggots and their friends between revolutions' stuff.

the chapters which are presented directly as social media posts and articles are also sharply observed. i think a lot of fiction in which the internet features heavily suffers from not understanding the internet very well (Hosoda's Belle for example), but for example the chapter 'Curious Cat' where an anonymous person (blatantly Vanya) is sending messages asking for help with a parasite, and getting rebuffed or misunderstood, and the chapter where Frankie relates a murder of an instagram model by a stalker who posts about it to a reddit community devoted to her, read as very real.

a lot of the story is about responding to a terrifying political situation in sexual terms - a flashback chapter depicting Frankie having sex with some terf's pretentious brother ("with each thrust from him, she thought to herself, I am a traitor, I am a traitor to the cause"), or the preface which jokes about how in another world the author would be writing 'cool horror stories about vampires raping werewolves, ones with no subtext at all'. I prevaricate a little on whether this is a compelling examination of a theme that I do find interesting (the mysterious origins of sexual desire) or just edgy for its own sake.

this is an odd novel for me in some ways because while on one level, this is about people who I could very easily be a single degree of separation from were they real, it's also about a facet of life that is still quite alien to me and in many ways I only know about second hand. I've never been to a kink club (that wasn't in an MMO anyway lol), I'm way too much of a nerdy autist shut-in to know what it's like to be someone who would feel put out if she hadn't had sex in a week. so even before the parasite stuff, it's hard to know how much of Frankie and Vanya's stuff is real, and how much is fantasy. is this really how things go between people? it sounds kinda fun, but unlocking the door this far has already taken years.

when I've read books about the crazy lives that American trans girls supposedly live and interesting sex they're apparently having, they've been at a certain remove, the other side of the Atlantic. and this book feels sort of similar, even though I know it's set right on my doorstep. idk, I've never been good at this.

anyway I don't think I want to write fantasy novels so directly about The Discourse of the day, but it's probably good that someone is. that said, it's hard to parse like... ok, it's titled brainwyrms, and 'brain worms' is a common way of describing an obsessive, cultish idea you receive from the internet.

and like if you look at the newspapers, or twitter trans discourse, you certainly could believe that this country is on a rapid slide to putting us in camps. however, my day to day life has been... it's not without hostility, but the average street harasser isn't doing it because of a Guardian or even Mail article. this country has a subculture of deranged weirdos who hate our guts, and a political class who will happily stoke culture war shit to score points, but most normies I've met don't care one way or another that I'm trans - they might mention a family member or friend they know who's also trans. the day to day conflicts are over way more prosaic shit, the landlord vs tenant forever war, or how the kitchen should be cleaned. which of these windows is more informative of the 'overall' state of affairs? not that a more violent terf cult is a bad premise to write a novel around, but a sense of impending doom is a pretty powerful mechanism to keep you scrolling, right?

like in 20, 40 years - will the terfs really be bombing the Tavistock and banning transness, as Rumfitt imagines in her near-future setting preface? or will they go the way of those newspapers in Thatcher's time who smeared the gay movement, just as they smear us today? of passing political obsessions like 'new atheism'? I don't know the half-life of cult shit.

anyway, time to read the rest of the novel, and see how it handles this brew that it's concocted.

[animentality]

re: gortash and durge having such a good working relationship. i respect the toxic relationship grind too (and godspeed to all who partake in that durgetash flavour) but i feel like we just.. do not talk enough about how they were BEST friends. utterly and desperately in love with each other too of course, but god they also LIKED each other. admired each other! made up their own secret code to send each other notes! they were spending time together presumably just for fun for years before they even knew ketheric, for years before the dead three set the whole mind flayer thing in motion. when durge went missing, gortash didnt just lose his lover he lost his best friend too. his ONLY real friend, probably. all in one fell swoop. and that’s almost what breaks my heart the most about the whole situation.

(i wonder how long it took gortash to realise he’d fallen in love with his best friend. i wonder if that added any trepidation to it, what with the risk of destroying their friendship if durge doesn’t feel the same way.. i’m unwell)

see, i love toxic ships too, but durgetash is so special to me, because it's the inverse of toxic villain ships.

it's not just "oh they're villains who HATE EACH OTHER and FUCK and have a power imbalance/struggle that makes them compelling," although i do love that dynamic myself.

it's "we are the most evil people alive, who are incapable of feeling empathy...except, at the end of the day, we are still, somehow, human. we still NEEDED someone who could understand us. we killed and we tortured and we maimed, and somehow, in spite of it all, we still found kinship, camaraderie, and love, even if it was in the most wicked of places."

the perseverance of the human heart, in spite of all the brambles and thorns.

that's durgetash.

i don't think that they're a vanilla ship, or an edgy ship. i think they're both. i think they're neither.

you can read death and despair and tragedy in them, or you can read this oddly uplifting wholesomeness to them.

it doesn't matter. it's just a perfect ship, with so much potential.

i'm holding it in my hands like sand holds the waves.