#sorry I know there are a lot of white people on this

[yoonkinii]

How y♡u first met Sukuna!

Warning(s): None Requests open! (only for this AU) Masterlist (check for more AU content here!)

Life feels like a dull melody, endlessly looping without change. Each day blurs into the next: wake up, attend college classes until your brain can’t take it, work until your feet throb, return home to study and work some more, then catch a few fleeting hours of sleep. The cycle repeats over and over again, with only minor changes being added to the never-ending routine. 

The air of the store is frigid as you reorganize the frozen food, red vest covering your white long-sleeve uniform shirt. THe fabric irritates your skin, causing an incessant itch, but you had to endure it, knowing that wearing anything else would beckon the wrath of your shift manager. 

Your fingers ache, tinged a faint red from the freezer’s chill. You could have finished a lot sooner were it not for the haphazardly thrown boxes of frozen food, which you have to constantly rearrange in order for them to be in the right places. Every time you thought you were done, another misplaced container catches your eyes, prolonging the task. 

Letting the magnetic door shut with a soft thud, you sighed, shoulder aching from the relentless task of lifting and moving items. Stepping back, you inspected the freezer for any remaining misplaced containers. A wave of relief washing over you when none were in sight. 

“Um, excuse me?”

You turned to the voice beside you, the well-practiced customer service smile automatically appearing on your face. 

“Yes! How may I help you?” 

Your tone was cheerful as you clasped your hands in front of you, looking at the customer. He wore an unfamiliar school uniform, dark blue pants and a button-up sweater with a red hoodie-like trim. It was clear he was in high school based on his attire. His hair, an unusual color cut into an undercut, caught your attention.

He must dye it, you mused, maintaining your smile. As you observe him, you also notice two matching, almost triangular slits under both of his eyes. Perhaps scars or birthmarks? It wasn’t your place to know, so you quickly pushed those thoughts aside. 

“Oh, I was just wondering where the canned sodas were.”

Your mind instantly mapped out the store’s layout, a skill honed from countless hours of restocking. 

“Those are in aisle 5C. I’d be happy to take you there if you’d like.”

The boy’s smile could rival the sun as he nodded eagerly, showering you with ‘thank you’s’ for your help.

That’s how you found yourself in the drink aisle, having an interesting discussion with the young man.

“Yes, but wouldn’t you say Dr. Pepper is better than just plain Cola?”

You hummed in thought, eyeing the vast array of soda crates lining the shelves. “While Dr. Pepper is good, if you’re bringing it to a class party, wouldn’t you want more variety? For example,” ou bent down and pulled out a certain crate of coke. “This pack has a variety of flavors, and some people can’t stand the taste of Dr. Pepper. Are you sure everyone in your class likes it?”

The young boy was silent for a moment, now crouched beside you as he examined the crate. “You have a point.”

“Yuji, what the hell are you doing? I sent you in to get drinks for your class like ten minutes ago.”

Both you and the boy, now known as Yuji, snapped your heads up at the sound of another voice. Yuji stood up immediately, turning to face the source of the interruption. 

“Sorry, Uncle. I was having a hard time deciding,” Yuji apologized, scratching the back of his head. 

You grabbed the crate of soda you had recommended and stood beside Yuji, finally getting a look at the man who had spoken. Suddenly, a loud crash resonated through the aisle as the crate of sodas slipped out of your grasp and landed on your foot, eliciting a string of curses. 

“Oh my God! Are you okay?” Yuji’s voice echoed in your head as you kneeled, cradling your throbbing foot.

Oh my God, he was stunningly handsome. Not Yuji, but the resemblance was clear. Yuji’s uncle, whoever he was, was breathtakingly beautiful, and you had just embarrassed yourself in front of him. He easily stood over six feet tall, towering over his nephew. While Yuji shared similar features, his uncle’s were sharper and more defined by age. Intricate face tattoos adorned his skin, accompanied by two slits in both of his brows, a barbell piercing through his left brow. His hair, styled similarly to Yuji’s, appeared to be its natural, unique color. 

Maybe it wasn’t dyed after all. 

He looked every bit of a high school troublemaker. His ears were pierced with gauges and several piercings lined his helix. Tattoos, similar to the ones on his face, trailed down his neck and beneath the collar of his sweatshirt. His hands were casually shoved into his jean pockets as he quirked up a brow of annoyance. 

Mentally scolding yourself, you stood up and bowed at the waist. “I am so sorry. The crate slipped from my hands.:

“No, no! It’s okay, really. Are you sure that you’re alright?”

Yuji’s voice carried concern, his brow furrowed as you regained your full height. There was no way in hell that you would admit that his uncle had been the real reason you dropped the crate. 

You tensed as Yuji’s uncle shifted, sidestepping you to bend down behind you. He held up a new crate in his hand. “Let’s go. You’re already wasting my time, kid.”

Yuji nodded briskly, taking the crate from his uncle’s hand and hurrying towards the front of the store. Swallowing hard, you glanced at the man beside you. His eyes met yours, almost making you jump out of your skin. Quickly looking away, you stared at the floor in silence.

“Sorry if my nephew bothered you at all.” His voice, velvety smooth, resonated through the aisle. 

“What?” You blinked, turning to face him. “Oh no! He wasn’t a bother at all.”

Your heart thundered. His eyes—a deep maroon that gleamed in the light—captivated you. Did Yuji share the same trait? You couldn’t remember. 

He arched a brow, seemingly unconvinced by your response, before walking away and disappearing from view. As he departed, you visibly relaxed, leaning against the shelf for support. Your hands rose to cradle your heated face.

God, who knew someone could make face tattoos look so hot?

[dunmeshistash]

Hey im @holmsister tumblr is tumbling as usual.

About the Maizuru complaint and bad faith interpretation: I feel the same way about POC in this fandom. I didn't really engage in fandoms that have many canon POC because most of my reading in the last years has been historical and classical European lit and nonfiction so like. The racism is baked into the source so to speak. AND im super white so im not going to try and speak out of turn. But moving into a fandom for a recent work of art in which there are important characters of colour has been... enlightening (derogatory). Also not naming names, but the way white characters are extended grace for things the POC are criticised extensively is... enlightening (derogatory). Maizuru, being at the intersection of being a woman and POC, is obviously going to get the brunt of it. Especially because yeah, she's not exactly a pleasant character - yeah, the way she treats the other retainers is not nice. But she is basically a sex slave. Like we can mince our words as much as we like, add in everything about how she is clearly being well-treated and not resentful, etc etc, but she's there to entertain Nakamoto and she can't say no if he comes to her room. All of her privileges are dependent on her pleasing him. That doesn't mean that she can't be abusive in her own right - but like. How old was she when she was taken in by Nakamoto? She's been around since Toshiro was little, remember? Hell, her obsession with being a good retainer with Toshiro might be a way to safely "escape" Nakamoto - after all, if she's following Toshiro around, she's not in her parlour waiting for his father's next visit, and if Toshiro, who has no interest in her, became the next head of the household, she would be allowed to live out her last years in peace. Like this is speculation of course, but it's based on what we know of the character in much the same way any other speculation is - I'm choosing to give her the benefit of the doubt the same way I do for example Laios choosing to join the army.

Sorry for the vent, it's just. The complexity of the characters is a good thing! Stop trying to find a bad guy, you're missing the point! (And showing your ass in the process). everyone has complex motivations!

Truly, people hate nuance and it seems like internalized misogyny and racism amplifies that.

I feel like at least for the racism one there's more awareness and people speak more about it? But I usually see misogyny arguments being dismissed a lot more so I got specially angy at it.

I guess I wanted to find a reason outside misogyny to justify how people treated these character's cause I've seen lots of people being mad about that before about other characters and even thinking myself "It's surely not that bad/widespread, this character is the one that sucks" but when you have a more general view of reactions it becomes painfully obvious.

Thankfully I didn't see the racism against Toshiro (maybe cause I barely post about him) but I can only imagine.

[simplydannie]

Previous: The Escape || The Escape: Waiting Game

Inspired by @meadow-hearthfire ask:

["The Escape"] I bet Veneer played fetch with Rhonda at some point during the passing months between him leaving Mount Rageous and Velvet leaving.

Veneer finds himself in Bergen town after his escape with Floyd from Mount Rageous. What’s holding him back from moving on? His sister. But an unknown little friendship helps him take the next steps.

Veneer sat outside a bench of what was Bergentown. It was simple, nothing much especially for it being the home of the king of the Bergens. They really were simple creatures, nothing like the rustling and bustling chaotic lives of Rageons.

It had been a couple weeks since his arrival, since he awoke from his mini coma…. And there was still no sign of his sister. He tried to push that at the back of his mind, as far back as he could. She had made her choice and he made his…they both had to live with it. Yet, he still felt sad, burdened, guilty. He felt like he abandoned his sister…

“Aarr rrooo.”

He jumped at the sound. Veneer looked around but didn’t see anything. “Weird…” he told himself.

“Aarr rrooo.”

“What in the world!” He looked around again. Veneer peeked underneath the bench, that’s when he saw bulging yellow eyes blinking at him curiously. A white little creature came walking out.

“Umm, okay.” Veneer looked at it in confusion. It looked like an animal, but then it looked like a bus. But buses weren’t alive? At least not where he was from…

“That’s an Armadillo Bus.” He turned to find Branch looking at him from on top of a post. “Her name is Rhonda. She belongs to John Dory.”

“She?” He looked under her legs. Veneer got a little too close for comfort, she growled and snapped. “AH! I’M SORRY!” He jumped back and hid behind the bench.

Branch laughed from on top of the post and made his way down next to Rhonda, “Do you not know anything about animals?”

“Well, yes, I do….from books I’ve read.”

“Haven’t you had any pets?”

“Oh! A goldfish named Sparkles!”

“Have you ever been to a zoo?”

“Define zoo.”

“Seriously?” Branch arched an eyebrow. Did he not know about wildlife? There had to be wildlife somewhere in Rageous.

Veneer began to grow nervous for some reason, he began to ramble, “Rageous is purely, well, mostly artificial: Mount and Under…So not a lot of wildlife. Except for the Rageous Woods, but no one goes in there…well only the crazy people of Under Rageous. It’s scary. Me and Vels went in there once, we almost died…”

“Veneer. VENEER! Calm down man.” Branch said.

“S-sorry.” He looked at Rhonda who had calmed down next to Branch. She was scratching her head, tongue sticking out panting. Veneer attempted to reach over and pet her. That’s when Rhonda scowled again, baring her teeth she snapped at Veneer. He yelped and withdrew.

“It takes time dude. She’ll warm up to you in no time.”

Sometimes he’d prefer the company of the Trolls, but mostly, Veneer liked spending his time alone the passing days… He didn’t feel like speaking much to anyone…except maybe his sister, but she was nowhere near. He hadn’t eaten the following day, Floyd forced him to go get a burger at the local fast food place the Bergens had. Veneer didn’t really feel like eating, but to make Floyd feel better, he obeyed.

“Want to have a bite together?” The little Troll had asked.

“No…I think I’ll have this alone…for now.”

Floyd nodded, but he worried that Veneer was spending too much time alone…He worried that certain thoughts would enter his mind. The little Troll was about to trail along until he saw devious little Rhonda trailing after the tall Rageon. Interesting, he thought. Rhonda really wasn’t one for strangers…at least JD had said…

Veneer sat under the old Troll tree. Clay had told him about its dark history, and the history with Bergens. He knew Bergens ate Trolls, the ones in Under Rageous hadn’t gotten the memo…and they were terrifying. It was interesting to see how the Trolls and Bergens got along here…like nothing had ever happened. Could that be a future they could also share with Rageons?

“Arr Roo.”

He heard the familiar little cry. Veneer turned to see Rhonda peeking from the corner, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Veneer looked at her with a mouthful of burger. Rhonda inched closer sniffing the air, that’s when he figured what she wanted.

“You want some of my burger don’t you? Can you even eat this stuff?” Curiously, Veneer tosses a piece of his burger towards the little creature. She sniffs it….then quickly gobbles it up, “Oh shoot, you can.” He tosses her another piece. Every little piece thrown she eats right up. Veneer laughs then starts tossing her some of his fries; it begins to turn into a game of catch. He’d toss the food farther and farther and she’d run and go get it. The cycle continued until he was all out of food.

“Well, that’s it…I didn’t even get a few bites in. You actually ate it all!” He exclaimed. Rhonda sniffed the air. She sniffed the ground and got closer and closer to Veneer that he became afraid to move. Veneer stood still as the small armadillo bus sniffed around him….suddenly, she spun circles and lay near his leg. What just happened? He slowly placed his hand on top of her little body…She didn’t snap, she didn’t growl, she just lay there with her eyes closed, her breathing steadied as she lulled into a slumber. The little creature actually allowed for Veneer to touch her and pet her…Branch was right, she began to warm up to him after all.

Day after day Veneer began looking for Rhonda. He’d ask John Dory where she was at and if he could play with her. He made it their thing where he would buy a burger and share with her. Veneer had only ever had a goldfish as a pet, he was able to teach it a few tricks, though no one believed him. Eventually, he began trying to teach Rhonda some tricks too.

“Okay, sit.” He said. She stared at him wide eyed, scratching her ears. “No, sit. Like this.” He mimicked what he had wanted her to do…She still stared at him with her tongue out, blinking oblivious. “Okay, this is definitely going to take some time to do…”

More days went on as Floyd began to see a shift in the young Rageons nature. Before he would sulk in thinking about his sister. Though he still did, Veneer became distracted and occupied playing with Rhonda. The little Troll would smile as he’d see the two bond: poor Veneer would try his best to teach her tricks while she only stared at him cluelessly, one day he saw them play fetch. Seeing Veneer like this once again was relieving to Floyd, but he still couldn’t help but think back to Velvet. How were they to go back and get her out? Would she even come with them if they did? The Mistress had a strong hold on her. Floyd was trying to figure out a way they could go back and retrieve her for good, because if they couldn’t, Veneer would only be more heartbroken than he already was.

That night Veneer lay alone on his bed staring at the ceiling. He had hoped he could bring Rhonda to sleep over, but JD needed her for an errand he had to run. Spending time with the little creature made him think of what else lies outside the Bergen walls, what else lay outside the glistening lights of Rageous. The world was big, there was so much, much…LIFE! Veneer had always been curious about the outside world. He remembered his sister was also curious at one point. They were so close to tasting freedom a couple of times too during their ventures into the Rageous Woods, but then they couldn’t escape…because they were being watched. They always were, but now they weren’t, at least Veneer wasn’t. Maybe he could go venture the world now and eventually find his way back to his sister. Maybe this is what he needed to grow…

The next morning, Branch was making himself a cup of coffee in his bunker he now shared with his brothers.

“Morning guys.” He declared as he brewed.

“Oooooh! That smells good!” Clay stretched.

“Thank you, thank you. It’s of my own making.” Branch gave him a smirk. He began to serve a cup to each of his brothers…that’s when the ground beneath them trembled.

“Whoa, whoa!” Floyd called out as he steadied himself. Within moments it stopped… ”What was that?”

Knocking was heard at the bunker door, “Branch! Branch! Branch! You have a visitor!” Poppy’s voice called out.

“A visitor?”

The brothers walked out to quite the sight…There standing amongst their village was Veneer, a giant amongst them all. All the Trolls marveled at the sight of him. He came to discover that to the Trolls, Rageons were known as the Giants…They were far taller than most Bergens after all. Veneer saw Branch emerge from the doorway of the bunker.

“Hey Branch!” He chimed.

“Arrrr roo!!” Rhonda came speeding in at the sound of his voice. She nuzzled close to him, begging for affection.

“Hey girl!” Veneer patted her and rubbed her stomach. Rhonda cooed and purred.

“Hey…that’s my armadillo bus.” JD said with a pout on his face, a tinge of jealousy crossing his tone.

“Looks like you have competition.” Clay teased.

Pop Trolls popped out their homes to marvel at the giant that walked into town. Young Trolls climbed around his feet. They could see he was afraid to move even an inch, afraid he’d accidentally step on someone…he had already almost squashed John Dory at one point.

“Why did you come all the way over here?” Branch asked.

“You’re a survivalist aren’t you?”

“I don’t like to brag…but yes…yes I am.” Branch crossed his arms with a smug look on his face.

“Good. I want you to show me how to do it!”

Branch shook his head in confusion, “Wait, say what?”

“I want to explore this world Branch. Learn some new things. Eventually, go back and find my sister. And i think you’d be the perfect person to show me!” Veneer shook in excitement.

“Whoa hang on! I TOO spent some time in the wilderness thank you very much!” John Dory added, “So I would find myself much more experienced than my little brother here.” Branch rolled his eyes.

“OH! Okay! If you come that means Rhonda can come too!”Veneer exclaimed happily as he snuggled the little creature.

Branch withheld a laugh as John Dory’s face took a more serious tone, “Sure. Get excited for the armadillo bus…Not the year’s worth of experience I have.” He glared at Rhonda, “….Traitor…”

“Okay Veneer….Looks like you TWO mentors here who want to teach you what we know. Question is, when do we start?”

[0asisbliss]

Imagine being the Phantom Troupe's Lawyer, that would be a pain.

A/N: This was going to be a oneshot then I got carried away sorry.😭 Sorry for any spelling errors.

You had every single one of the phantom members on one case. Oh shit it was a lot to process about them. It was every single crime they committed each of the 13 members of the phantom troupe. Each member had their own huge pamphlet, and you had to go through every single page of every single on to give a good declaration about them.

When it came to the day of talking to them about their experiences some of them gave you a good conversation, and some of them just blankly stared at you.

“Nobunaga. Give me a reason? Did you have any motives?” You asked him with a a curious stare.

Nothing.

“Were you forced?”

“No.” It was blank straight and to the point. Nothing more nothing less.

You knew that they had a leader, and maybe he was controlling them.

“So you’re not being controlled?”

“I just said no.”

“Well alright. How about your childhood?”

Nothing.

This wasn’t going anywhere was it?

The next day you were going to be talking to a man named Shalnark.

You looked at his chart, and he was very smart, and he was a manipulator.

“Well hello Shalnark.”

“Hi.”

He was restrained they looked very tight and painful. You looked at the mental section of his chart, and it looked terrible. It showed he was insane. His looks sure were deceiving.

“What was your experience with your “boss” Chrollo?”

“He’s a very patient person, and he isn’t a dictator by any means.”

He gave you a slight smile. Shalnark knew that he was in a deep hole, and he needed to say pretty words to get himself, and the rest of the troupe out of this situation.

Finally you were getting somewhere.

“How about the rest of the troupe?”

Silence.

Truth be told Shalnark didn’t know what to say. What could he say? Unknowing he zoned out thinking.

“Shalnark? Shalnark?”

Nothing.

“Well I’ll see you next week.”

Feitan was next the you heard guards and his previous lawyers talk about him. He attacked multiple of them, and that even led to some of them whiting from such trauma. He was located to another facility, and locked away till further investigation.

Were you scared no. I mean a person couldn’t be that bad you believed that maybe those people asked the wrong thing. You observed with the others that something you have to leave to the imagination.

“Hello Feitan.”

He strapped against a wall, and he wasn’t no longer muffled.

He didn’t respond.

Feitan thought it was kinda funny the situation him and troupe was in. All of these restrictions and restraints. He could easily get out of all of this and kill this person in front of him. Only with the bosses order he had the right to try and get away, but then again he was also having some fun here.

“How are you feeling? I know that’s kinda of painful.”

He stares blankly at you which made you slightly uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t feel like talking, but then again none of this was his choice. He had to talk in order for you to get more evidence to help them out.

You already know they come from a city where they were mostly likely were traumatized. Then again you have no proof that place even existed. You found no location of that place it was crazy.

“So, Feitan.. do you have any family?”

You knew he didn’t, but sometimes the charts don’t know it all. It never hurt to ask at least you didn’t think so.

“Family? Don’t know what that is.”

You tried a couple more time to talk to him and eventually you called it a day after multiple failures.

You wondered what the others would be like. You’d have to wait for next week.

This going to be a very long trail.

Pt.2

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Hello! Recently read your latest Rin piece and fell in love with your writing style :)

If you’re up for it, could I request childhood friends with Hiori? Sorry it’s a little vague, but I love the direction you’ve taken other pieces and wanted to leave the details up to you! My only suggestion on a detail would be maybe sprinkling in some light angst about his parents/backstory.

Thank you for considering!

── WHITE BUTTERFLY

Synopsis: You spend the years of your youth with Yo Hiori, in a field that’s almost lonely as the two of you.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Hiori x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k

Content Warnings: childhood friends, hiori is vaguely suicidal and also vaguely homicidal, uhh i feel like i know nothing about him as a character so popping that sexy little ooc warning in there jic, open ending, lots of #nature, almost the entire story takes place in a field so idk, hiori is like. madly in love w reader but he’s nonchalant abt it

A/N: thank you so much anon that means a lot!! cherry tree rin and y/n are so silly (<- affectionate) i’m glad you enjoyed that fic 💖 one thing about me i love a good childhood friends to lovers trope especially with angst…hiori is another character i haven’t written a ton for so i hope i interpreted him correctly and that you like what i decided to do with your prompt!! ty for requesting 🫶🏻

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

The field across from your house was melancholic and desolate, an acre or so of rolling green that bled into trees at the edges. Although by all rights it should’ve been considered a picturesque place, no amount of beauty could take away from the abandoned atmosphere which had long ago settled over the land.

According to your parents, there had been plans for a grand mansion to be built in that location, but before drafts for its construction could be drawn up, the owner had died. The son who had inherited it had no use for the plot, but neither could he be brought to sell the place of his father’s dreams, so the land had sat empty and unused for years upon years. 

People thought the area was cursed, and the general consensus was that it ought to be avoided, but your parents did not believe in things like curses and bad luck and whatnot, so they told you it was fine if you wanted to play there. You were a lonely child, prone to wandering off on your own anyways, and you supposed they must’ve reasoned to themselves that it’d be easier if you were close enough that you could run home should something happen. 

You would sit in the middle of the field, far from any prying eyes, and you’d admire the blooming plants beneath your feet. It was not just grass — there were a million and one varieties of things growing in that wild place, and you would run your fingers along their leaves, doing your best not to frighten the animals and insects which called that field their home.

They grew accustomed to you with time, and instead of shying away, they invited you into their own world. The squirrels and chipmunks would dash out from their trees to scuttle around your feet and splayed hands, while the dormice would peek out of their burrows without fear, nibbling on whatever seeds they had gathered before settling in for the day. The larks would warble to you, and if you were in a particularly cheery mood, you’d whistle back to them, trying to imitate their melodies but always falling a little short.

The third time you went to the field, you found that someone had arrived before you. For a moment, you thought that he must be a ghost, for he stood in such stark contrast to everything you had come to know that there was no other reasonable explanation for it. He was spindly and pale like a skeleton, and his shaggy hair and eyes were the color of winter, such an unnatural shade compared to the viridian he was surrounded by.

You were contemplating running away when he turned around, his eyes widening when he saw you. In his hands was a soccer ball, and resting on the soccer ball was a large white butterfly, its lazily flapping wings shimmering like a whisper in the sunlight.

You were both silent for a moment, a soft breeze rustling through the field and sounding like a song that urged you towards him despite your misgivings. Tentatively, he held the ball out towards you, but the motion startled the butterfly, which abruptly took to the air, fluttering away before either of you could react.

“Who are you?” you said.

“Yo Hiori,” he said. “Who are you?”

“Y/N L/N,” you said. “I live in the house across the street.”

“We’re neighbors, then,” he said. “My house is a few doors down from yours. Do you come here often?”

“Yes,” you said. “Do you?”

He shook his head ruefully. “This is the first time. My parents think I’m practicing soccer right now.”

“You shouldn’t do that here,” you said, frowning at the thought of him kicking up dirt and slamming a ball around carelessly through your sanctuary. “Go somewhere else if you want to play something so reckless.”

“I don’t,” he said. You furrowed your brow. “Don’t want to practice soccer, I mean.”

“I see,” you said. “Well, this is a good place to run to if that’s the case. No one will come looking for you here.”

“Is that the truth?” he said. “Really?”

“Really,” you said. “Everyone thinks it’s cursed, but in truth, I think that that just means it’s blessed.”

“Ah,” Hiori said. “But do you mind?”

“Do I mind what?” you said.

“If I keep coming here,” he said. “When I want to run away.”

“It doesn’t belong to me. I suppose you could say I belong to it, but that’s neither here nor there. No, I can’t stop you, so why would I mind?” you said.

“Are you some sort of woodland fairy?” he said. You laughed aloud.

“I wish. Are you a ghost?” you said. He shook his head.

“Nope,” he said.

“Then I guess our claims to this place are equal,” you said. “Anyways, as long as you don’t disturb it too much, I won’t be angry. I’ll do the same for you, don’t worry.”

“I don’t care what you do to it,” he said. “I just want to go somewhere that’s quiet and I can be left alone.”

This much you could understand, and you thought that perhaps Hiori would grow to be an exception to your loneliness, or an addition to it. Not a cure, because that did not exist, but a person who could relish in his own solitude and share in that inexplicable sensation which was your greatest joy.

You never saw him anywhere but in that field. You weren’t sure if he even existed outside of its context, or if he was like the dormice and the larks, a skittish creature who made his home in those grassy divots and only appeared to greet you before running back off to hide once you were gone.

At first, he was even more reserved than the animals had been. Neither of you spoke, but somehow, it happened that you were always in the same place at the same time, and eventually, little by little, the two of you became dependent on one another’s presence. Your life before meeting Hiori was pale and lifeless in comparison to your life after, and the first time you both spoke as friends instead of strangers, you thought to yourself that you could never go back to the way you had previously been.

No longer did you whistle at birds and play with squirrels; instead, you sat across from Hiori and listened to him explain things like soccer and video games. You were not particularly interested in either of these subjects, but as long as it was Hiori, you didn’t mind hearing about them. It was the cadence of his voice you were concerned with, the rise and fall of his words, the soft inflections of each syllable. 

You had never had a friend before. It was a personal choice rather than a failing; every person who tried to engage with you was met with the same disdain, for you found no appeal in any such clumsy attempts at camaraderie. In your childish mind, friendship ought to be hard-won and delicately kept, and so it remained that of all the people in the world, Hiori was the only one whose honest company you could prefer.

He was a forlorn and low-spirited boy, the winter to your bursting summer, but his coldness was the inviting sort, like a dusting of snow on a cluster of berries or frost on a forgotten bird’s nest. It did not ward you away but drew you in, your breath fogging in the air as you lay beside him and listened to him ramble on and on about whatever topics struck his fancy.

Sometimes he was prone to muteness, and on those occasions you took it upon yourself to intertwine your fingers with his, pulling him along behind you and naming every plant and tree and flower you passed by, greeting the tittering chipmunks and the cooing larks and the peeping rabbits. He would not say anything, but you knew he was listening, for he would smile slightly whenever you pointed at something he found particularly pleasing.

Every day, he would bring the soccer ball with him. He refused to put it down, but neither did he play with it or even acknowledge its existence; you sensed it vexed him, that it was the source or a symptom of the gloomy undercurrent which ran through his life, but he could not let it go, just like he could never truly be happy in any way that lasted.

“Y/N,” he said once, when you and he were lying on your backs in the grass and watching the clouds drift by. “If you could be any other creature, what would you be?”

“I don’t know,” you said, considering the question seriously. “Maybe a songbird. What about you?”

“I’d be one of those,” he said, pointing at a butterfly floating past. It was a common variety, nondescript and plain and white, but somehow made more beautiful by the ubiquity of its kind.

“Why?” you said.

“I’d live a short but carefree life, and then I would die before anyone could demand anything from me,” he said, smiling slightly and closing his eyes. “Plus, if I could be something as small and pretty as a butterfly in our meadow, then I would be able to spend my entire existence resting on your finger.”

Your meadow. You weren’t sure when it had gone from being a place you visited to a place you owned, but yes, the shift had definitely occurred. You and Hiori loved it, and so it was yours by that right alone. You reached out your hand, setting it on his heart and then closing your own eyes in a mirror of his position.

“I wouldn’t prefer that,” you said. Something cool and soft curled over your fingers; you knew without looking that it was Hiori’s own hand, which would always come to rest against yours like a magnet.

“Hm,” he said.

“I’d get used to you being there,” you explained. “And then one day you’d vanish and I’d be alone again.”

“Would you miss me?” he said.

“Very much,” you said. 

“Nobody else would,” he admitted, though he still spoke in an even monotone. “I’d be replaced quickly. Someone just as talented or even better would take my place, and then it’d be like I was never there in the first place.”

“I’d miss you,” you insisted. “I don’t care about talent. You’re someone who’s irreplaceable to me.”

“I see,” he said. “Then I guess, if not a butterfly, I would also want to be a songbird. Like you.”

“We could fly around the world together,” you said. 

“Yes,” he said. “The countries I’ve seen in my video games…we could go to them. If we were birds, we could.”

“Maybe we still can,” you said.

“We can’t,” he said. “My parents would never let me.”

“What about when we’re adults? They can’t tell you what to do then, so we can leave them behind and travel wherever we want,” you said.

“It’s a nice dream,” he said.

“Hold onto it,” you said. “That’s the only way it can ever come true.”

“Okay,” he said. “I will.”

Even as you and Hiori became older and made friends outside of one another, there was a sort of solace which only he could provide you and which in turn only you could provide him, so neither of you ever outgrew that field. The moment you got home from school, you’d drop your bag on the counter and run there as fast as you could, hoping to see him before he had to leave for soccer practice. And every time, without fail, he’d be there, waiting where he always was, his small smile widening when he saw you racing towards him.

The contents of your conversations changed, moving from games and plants to complaining about schoolwork and updating one another about your respective social lives and dramas — he went to a private academy for soccer, while you attended the public school that most kids your age went to — but the familiarity never diminished. If anything, it only increased, as any inhibitions you had had in your youths gradually fell away.

“Hiori! You’ll never believe it,” you said, moving his abandoned soccer ball aside and sitting across from him. He did not look up from the pieces of grass he was braiding together, but he nodded to indicate he was listening. “Remember those two guys I was telling you about?”

“The ones who had a crush on the same girl?” he said.

“Yup, those two,” you said. “They finally got into a fistfight over her! It was crazy.”

“Who won?” he said.

“The principal, because he broke up the brawl and suspended them both,” you said. “Thereby ruining their brief romance-novel-moment entirely.”

“That’s a pity,” he said with a snort. “I can’t imagine what possessed them to do something as stupid as beating each other up on school grounds.”

“Love makes people crazy,” you said dramatically, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead and collapsing backwards into the dirt. “You’ll understand when you feel it yourself, silly Hiori.”

“Huh?” he said.

“I mean, one day, you’ll fall madly in love with someone, and then you’ll be inclined to beat another person up for them,” you said.

“What if I already have?” he said. You shot up with a gasp.

“And you didn’t tell me? Who is it? Who, who? You can’t hide stuff like that!” you said.

“It was only a hypothetical,” he said. “There isn’t anyone. What about you? Are you madly in love with someone?”

“You’ll be the first to know when I am, but at the moment, I don’t find myself able to even tolerate any of the boys I go to school with! They’re all disgusting, immature, and insensitive. Just looking at them is enough to make me gag, so forget about falling in love!” you said.

“That sucks,” he said.

“Maybe I’ll be single forever,” you said. “I’ll live alone, with pets and a porch swing and a backyard just like this field, somewhere faraway where no one can find me.”

“What about me?” he said, taking your wrist and tying the braided grass around it like a bracelet.

“Well, I’ll tell you where I am, of course,” you said. “You’re the only one I would want as a visitor.”

“I’ll come every day,” he said.

“At that point, you might as well just live there with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’d save you the time spent traveling back and forth.”

“Would you like me to?” he said. “I thought the point was for you to be alone.”

“If it’s you, then it wouldn’t be so bad,” you said. “Being with you is even better than being alone.”

The sun hit Hiori at the exact moment that he grinned at you, and in the back of your mind, where things were understood but not known, you recognized that of all the beings in that lovely place, he was far and away the loveliest.

A distant and rumbling thunder portended a storm on the day you learned who Hiori really was. He never went to the field if it was raining — there was no excuse for him to escape his home, and so, though you did not much mind the weather, you tended to keep to your room on those days as well. Today, though, the rain was still only a blot on the horizon, which meant you would have a precious few minutes with him before it began to pour and you had to leave again.

“Hey, Hiori,” you said. In an uncharacteristic move, he wasn’t holding onto the soccer ball; instead, it was on the ground, his foot resting atop it, his head bowed towards it and his hands balled into fists at his sides. He glanced up at you, and you were surprised to see that there was a dead, hollow quality to his eyes, which, though always placid and still, were never this shade of dark and dreary. “Is everything okay?”

“Have you ever wanted to kill someone?” he said.

“No,” you said immediately, taken aback. “Have you?”

“No,” he said. “Yes. I’m not sure. I don’t want to do it, but somehow, I want my parents to die.”

Another crack of thunder. You approached Hiori slowly, like he was a deer that would leap away the instant you were close enough to touch him. But he was not a deer, and he stayed preternaturally immobile, his harsh panting the only signal that he was a person and not a statue.

“Do you mean that?” you said when you were near enough to him that you could’ve embraced him if you wanted. “Is that really how you feel, Hiori?”

“Yes,” he said vehemently. “Yes, I mean it more than anything. Everything would be better if they would just die and leave me alone.”

He drew his leg back and slammed it into the ball. It streaked through the field, leaving a muddy rut in its wake, tearing up the grass and the flowers before crashing into a tree with a groan. You stared at the path of devastation it had wrought, wondering how such an innocent object could create such havoc, how such a simple act could have such irreversible consequences.

“That’s what soccer is,” he said when he had caught his breath and noticed your silence. “A tiring game you play to ruin yourself.”

“I thought you liked playing soccer,” you said. “You always told me how good you were at it.”

“Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I like it,” he said. “I hate it almost as much as I hate the people that make me play it.”

“Then why do you keep going?” you said. “Why don’t you quit?”

“Because I have to,” he said. “My parents gave birth to me so that I could play soccer and be the best at it. That’s the only role I know how to conform to, so how can I do anything but accept it?”

You wrapped one arm and then the other around his torso, leaning your temple against the dip of his collarbone, turning your back to the blight he had caused and holding onto him as lightning split the sky.

“Don’t ruin yourself,” you said. “Don’t betray who you are because other people tell you to. If you don’t want to play soccer, then don’t. Quit and leave it behind. Maybe everyone else will mock you, but would it be enough if I didn’t? If I alone swore not to think any less of you, then would you be able to do it?”

“No,” he said. Something dripped onto your head, and you thought it had started raining early until you realized that Hiori’s voice was catching on nothing, his heart beating as fast as a mouse’s. “No, it wouldn’t be enough. I have to play soccer.”

“Why?” you said.

“My parents,” he said. “If I don’t play soccer — no, if I’m not good at soccer, they’ll divorce. They’ll divorce and it’ll be my fault, so I have to keep doing it, because no matter how much I hate them, I can’t be — I can’t be the reason that they — that anything bad happens to them.”

The droplets came in quicker succession, but with a final clap of thunder, the sky opened to let the rain out, blurring the line between his tears and the natural precipitation which would’ve occurred whether or not you were there.

You didn’t know what to say to him, so you opted to say nothing, pressing into him for as long as you could before you both had to go, leaving one another behind as you were always forced to. Now, though, there was a proof of your existence in the shape of that ugly gash that his soccer ball had torn into the field, an alteration which was directly a consequence of your actions. In a season or two, it would be grown over, but for the time being, it cheered you to think that the world could no longer avoid acknowledging you, acknowledging that you and Hiori were real, that you were alive and belonged.

In your second year of high school, a boy in your class came up to you, stopped you in the hallway in front of everyone and thrust a bouquet of supermarket flowers into your hands. He asked you to read the attached card, and you obliged, though you had a feeling you already knew what it said.

As you had predicted, it was an invitation to have lunch with him sometime. His cheeks were red and his smile was wide as he waited for you to say yes, but all you could think of when you looked at him was Hiori. How would he feel about this turn of events? Would he be amused or jealous or unfazed entirely? Would it even matter to him? Why were you thinking of him at a time like this?

No, that last question was one you knew the answer to already. The reason why you were thinking of Hiori was the same reason you still went to that field to see him, even though you were far too old to play with mice and birds and clovers now. It was the same reason that you recoiled from any other boy who tried to talk to you — because they were not him, they could never be him. It was because — it was because —

Much to the consternation of the audience you had unwillingly gathered, you handed the card and flowers back to the boy, shaking your head as politely as you could. There was a demand for an explanation on the tip of his tongue, but you left before he could make it. The explanation was not one you wanted to share, so you covered your ears with your hands to drown out the insults he shouted after you and strode away before he could say anything worse.

Hiori was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, so it was no surprise that he was waiting for you where he always was. Today, though, you did not bother with formalities or welcomes or lighthearted questions. You paid no mind to his antsy demeanor, instead catching his hands between your own and squeezing them.

“Y/N—”

“Hiori—”

You both called out each other’s names at the same time, with the same urgency, though there was a layer of despair when he said Y/N, just as there was pleading infused into the way you murmured Hiori.

“You first,” he said, though he looked over your shoulder, staring towards the road instead of at you. “Quickly.”

“Okay,” you said. “A boy asked me out.”

“Oh,” he said, and when his gaze slid onto you, you noticed that for the first time, there was something flaring to life in the blank depths of his irises, a veritable maelstrom of unreadable emotions twisting together and blending into something entirely other than the stillness you had come to expect from him. “What did you say?”

“I refused,” you said. “I couldn’t date him, not in good conscience. Not when I like — not when there’s someone else.”

“Someone else?” he said. “Y/N, please hurry.”

“What’s the matter?” you said, letting go of his hands so that you could instead hold his face. “Hiori, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you in trouble with your soccer team? Is that stupid crow boy causing you problems?”

“What? No, no, Karasu’s not done anything worse than usual. It’s my parents, I think they’re growing suspicious of me, I’m afraid they’ll—”

“It’s you,” you said, cutting him short, his haste rubbing off on you. You weren’t sure whether it was his anxiety or your own or some sort of divine premonition, but you suddenly felt an impending doom, as if you had to speak at that exact instant or give up the chance to ever say it again. “Hiori, you’re the reason I said no. It’s because I like you.”

Hiori, who had carved his way into your heart on the very first day you met, who was fond of butterflies and songbirds, who was bashful like winter and gentle like dusk. How could you help it? Of course you liked him. That boy who had reached into the lonely chasm of your soul and ripped it out, turned it into something lighter and warmer and whole…how could you help falling for him?

“Me?” he said in disbelief. “But—”

“So this is where you go, Yo,” a stern voice said. Hiori inhaled sharply, and then he yanked away from you, shoving you behind him, though it was far too late. You knew who had finally found the two of you, and furthermore, there was no way she hadn’t seen you. “This doesn’t look like practicing soccer. How much time have you been wasting in this dump, with this fool of a girl?”

You peered around Hiori’s back, holding onto the hem of his shirt. Fear constricted your throat when you saw a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to him standing before you, her hands on her hips, a dour expression on her face. Whatever had been sparkling in Hiori at your confession had abruptly disappeared, replaced by an even more severe version of himself.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “We just met recently.”

“Not a big deal? Think about how much better at soccer you would be if you actually spent this time practicing instead of messing around! A few minutes every day is the difference between starting for a team and being a substitute, because a few minutes every day turns to hours every week, which turns into days lost every month! You should be ashamed of yourself,” his mother said, marching over and grabbing him by the collar, wrenching him away from you. “From now on, I’ll be supervising your additional practice time. As for you, young lady…don’t even think of coming near him again. He doesn’t need distractions like you getting in the way of his ultimate goal.”

“His ultimate goal?” you said, your audacity surprising even yourself. Without Hiori’s shadow to hide you, you were entirely naked and exposed, but somehow, you found the strength in you to speak up. “What, of being the world’s best soccer player? Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe he doesn’t want that anymore, if he ever did?”

His mother scowled at you. “You are a poison of the worst sort, if you have him doubting what he’s been aiming for since he was young. Stay away from my son. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

She dragged Hiori away before either of you could manage so much as a goodbye. It was the first time since you had met him that you found yourself alone in that field, which suddenly felt so vast that you finally understood why people thought it to be cursed. It had to be, because why else would it have given you Hiori and then taken him away with such a swiftness that it left you reeling?

For a week, you continued to go to the field, just in case he would magically be there, but it was a foregone conclusion that he would not be. Still, you waited, and though the larks sang their songs and the dormice chittered at you sweetly, nothing could set your spirits right when Hiori remained missing.

On the eighth day you spent without him, you didn’t even bother with the field. Instead, you knocked on every door of every house in your small neighborhood, continuing on until the one who answered was the same woman who had stolen Hiori from you. 

She remembered you, her expression turning sour at your appearance, like you had shoved a lemon into her mouth. Shockingly, though, she did not slam the door in your face. She only cleared her throat before speaking in the most abrasive voice you had ever had the misfortune of hearing.

“What is it?” she said.

“Hiori — Yo, is he around? I just want to see him one last time. I’ll leave him alone after that if you refuse to budge, but at least let me say goodbye. I won’t ever distract him again if you give me that chance,” you said. 

“If I gave you even the slightest leeway, you’d pounce upon it, won’t you? I’m not so daft. I’m sure that, if I let you in now, you’d never leave. In the end, though, it’s irrelevant. Yo’s gone,” she said.

“Gone?” you said. “What do you mean?”

“He’s participating in a soccer training camp called Blue Lock,” his mother said. “The way they raise their players is what his father and I been trying to impress upon him from the start, so we’re glad he made the choice himself to go. Now, he can focus on his own self-improvement instead of brief dalliances that would never last.”

Hiori was gone. There was a deep ache in you, and those words were its source, yet nonetheless, for him, you could only muster up pride. He had finally done it. He had flown somewhere free of the burdens his parents placed on him; to be sure, it was defined by the soccer he despised, but nonetheless he had made the decision to do it on his own. It belonged to him, and he had spent so long without anything to his name but a deserted green that you laughed as you sobbed, leaving him behind for good.

A long time passed before you saw him again, though you watched all of his matches on TV. He had become someone different and yet still familiar while in the Blue Lock program — he was sharper now, sharper and quicker, his eyes constantly burning in the same way they had on the day he had left you. Most notably, you thought that that childish love for soccer which he had had and then lost had blossomed again, now into a stable, unshakeable passion which no one, not even his parents, could take from him.

You had probably also changed, though of course it was harder to recognize it in yourself than in another person. But you were not so sparing with your offers of friendship anymore, and neither were you harsh to every boy who approached you. With Hiori gone, the only reservations you had were feeble and pointless, so you stopped saying no quite as often.

Nothing ever came of these school-type romances. Inevitably, you’d walk home and your eyes would stray to the spot where you had spent so much of your childhood with Hiori, whereupon you would pull out your phone and send a formulaic apology message. Sorry, but it’s not working. There’s nothing wrong with you, but I don’t think we’re a good match for each other. Thanks for taking me out. I really appreciate it.

The longer it became, the less frequently you thought about him. He turned into a memory, fuzzy around the edges with nostalgia and tinged with gold. He was someone you claimed to know around those with a more vested interest in soccer, but deep inside, you had accepted that your path had diverged from his a long time ago. You and Hiori weren’t meant to sit beside one another for eternity; he had been there when you needed him, but it was time for you to stand on your own, as he was clearly doing all of the way over in Blue Lock.

“I can’t believe you’ve finally graduated high school!” your mother said, sniffing as she took a million photos of you standing awkwardly, your diploma in your hands, your gown hanging loosely on your body and the pins holding up your cap jabbing into your scalp. “We’re so proud of you, dear.”

“Next stop, Tokyo!” your father said, swiping at the tears which rolled shamelessly down his cheeks.

You had been accepted into the University of Tokyo, and at the end of the summer, you would move into your own apartment, leagues away from everything you had known for your entire life. It was exciting, but it was also terrifying, because the thought of being all alone in the bustling metropolis still made you break into a cold sweat.

Now that you had officially graduated, it all seemed so much more real. Going to Tokyo, attending university, getting a job and supporting yourself…these were not dreams of a distant future but immediate and pressing concerns that weighed on you.

Once you became a university student and then an adult proper, you visited home less and less. You hardly had the time, and anyways there wasn’t much to do in that town, so instead your parents would take trips up to visit you when they missed you terribly — which was often. They would update you on the happenings of your neighbors, and you would take them to your favorite restaurants and attractions, like they were foreign tourists coming to the country for the first time. 

“You know, they finally finished construction on that plot across from our house,” your mother said to you on one such visit, taking a sip of bubble tea to punctuate the outrageous statement. There were streaks of gray in her hair now, and far more lines on her face than there had been when you were younger, but she wore the signs of age with grace and dignity, so that they were weapons instead of faults. 

“You never told me someone bought it,” you said. So that was that, then; the last remnants of your tender friendship with a boy you had not spoken to in years was all but destroyed now. It belonged to another person, who would make their own memories on the land, and the thought of two other people standing where you and Hiori once had caused a lump to arise in your throat. It was as much grief for the idyllic days of your childhood as it was for your former best friend. Both were lost to you now, and both you mourned in equal measure, though you knew no amount of crying would ever bring them back.

Perhaps there had been a window of time in which you might’ve been able to reconnect with Hiori, but the idea hadn’t crossed your mind until it was far too late, and you supposed it must’ve been the same for him. Or maybe he had, upon joining Blue Lock and becoming an international celebrity, forgotten about you entirely. It was a possibility, and no matter how much it stung, it was one you did not resent him for.

“Yes, it was a while ago. Apparently, he lived in the area when he was younger, but he left to pursue some athletic career? Anyways, now that he’s rich, he wanted to invest in some property close to home, so as soon as the previous owner died, he swooped in and bought the entire field up. You know, considering how much money he has, the house is downright quaint in its design,” your mother said, shaking her head. She had a penchant for gossip, and you could not count on two hands the amount of days you both had spent giggling with each other about silly, inconsequential matters. This, though, crossed the line — it wasn’t dumb gossip but legitimate news.

“Athletic career? Do you…do you happen to remember what sport?” you said. 

“No idea,” your mother said. “Why?”

“Was it soccer?” you said. She choked on a pearl of boba. Absently, you leaned over and slapped her on the back to help dislodge it. She coughed and dabbed at her face with a napkin before nodding.

“Ah, yes, that sounds familiar!” she said. “I think that might be it.”

“I’m going to take the next few days off and visit you guys,” you said. It was a spur of the moment decision, but you could afford it, and something told you that what you would find would be far more valuable than another day at your boring, if not well-paying, job.

“Really? That’s wonderful! You’ll love how things have changed. The place has really come to life in the past couple of years,” she said.

The train ride home from Tokyo was just over two hours, and it ran through a familiar countryside, which you watched for the entire journey, smiling slightly whenever you rushed by a landmark you recognized. By the end, however, it seemed every sight was a landmark of some sort — not the nationally important ones, but the type that was personally significant. The many little places you had visited when you were young…even now, you recollected them with startling clarity.

Your father was delighted that you had returned home with your mother, and the whole house smelled like his cooking when you walked in through the front door. He must’ve begun preparing as soon as you had mentioned that you were coming back for a bit, and the grumble of your stomach warned you that you would regret it if you did not hold off on your investigation until after dinner.

You sat in the same chair you had once sat in and ate the same food you had once eaten. It was your favorite as a little girl, and your father served it to you personally, his lower lip trembling as he ladled two portions onto your plate instead of one. Hardly even a month had passed since he had seen you last, but he had always been an emotional man, bawling like a child at every reunion and separation alike.

The sun was setting when you excused yourself, placing your dishes in the sink and ducking outside under the pretense of needing a walk to digest your food. Well, it was only half a pretense — your father truly had fed you until you thought your stomach might split open, as was characteristic of his affection. You really did need to walk around so that your insides could settle, but more importantly than that, you wanted to confirm the theory which had been brewing in your mind since your mother had brought it up.

As she had said, there was a brand new house across from yours. It was nothing like the grand mansion that the original owner must’ve intended to sit on the land; it had a winsome yet unassuming charm to it, and it only took up about half of the field, while the rest of it had been left entirely alone, still green and wild like you recalled it to be. You were sure that if you looked close enough, you would find the dormice and the squirrels and the chipmunks and the larks exactly where you had left them as well, but you did not have the time nor the patience for that at present.

When you climbed the porch steps, you noticed that to the left of the door was a cushioned swing, atop which a tortoiseshell cat was dozing. At the sound of your footsteps, she opened one champagne-colored eye, but she did not seem to regard you as worthy of her attention, for she promptly closed it and returned to her rest.

Your fingers hesitated on the doorbell, resting on the button, too scared to press down. You didn’t know what you had to be afraid of, but for some reason, you were nervous, a pit forming in your stomach as you deliberated over what to do. Before you could make up your mind, the cat meowed at someone in greeting, jumping off of the swing with a light thud.

Spinning around, you saw that the owner of the house was standing at the bottom of the steps, the cat rubbing against his legs as he beamed up at you. Any lingering doubts of yours dissipated into nothingness at the instant you once again made eye contact with Yo Hiori; like a reflex, the corners of your mouth curved upwards in a fond greeting.

Like always, in his hands was a soccer ball, though more prominent than the ball itself was the butterfly which lay on it in repose. Its white wings were thin and quivering, but curiously, when Hiori held the ball out to you, it did not fly off, instead remaining stationary, waiting for you to reach out and take it.

[hauntedwizardmoment]

okay jess. i made the underwear post. what about the lingerie.

OKAY SO. there are a few things at play here so im just gonna go through them one by one

for jace:

jace's love of fine things. this is practically canon to me. he loves his expensive green velvet couch, his cashmere maroon sweater, his veuve clicquot brut yellow label champagne, etc etc he is soooo into the finer things in life. hence, lingerie. lots of lace and silk and ribbons. LOVES the texture and the way they feel against his skin.

jace's desire to be desired. have you seen that quote from robber bride by margaret atwood? jace read that and said "but that's good actually??" he likes knowing other people, ESPECIALLY porter, find him attractive, that they Want him, that they're watching him put on the show of a lifetime. and lingerie is a way to make himself more enticing to watch

jace genderfuckery hours. i think @zukkacore did something to my brain with dyke jace and now its all i can think about. what IF he got to dress up a little bit.

my theory of jace's sexuality includes him using sex as a tool to get what he wants and well. playing into porter's whole masculinity neuroses where he's this Big Strong Man who is Conquering and Ravishing the Weak Pretty Sex Object is a great way to manipulate him into things. the amount of presents he's wrung out of porter by asking for them in a post-coital afterglow is insane.

his favorite kind of lingerie is, imo, lacy two-piece sets, but he ALSO loves the ones with garters and stockings. please picture starbreaker wedding night roleplay where porter rips off jace's garter with his teeth. thank you. as for colors... i mean you know i'm sticking with jewel tones UNLESS it's the aforementioned wedding night roleplay because then jace is in white and pale blue or pink.

for porter:

i have been BARELY restraining myself from making posts about transfem porter for weeks now. the amount of times ive almost posted "corollary podcast to complicated women called could transition have saved her and the first episode is about porter cliffbreaker" today alone. so. yknow. lingerie as a method of gender exploration. in an alternate universe where she's not confined by the Evil Plan.

for something more canon-adjacent, i could see porter being a silk robe guy. again he's not on jace's level but it IS something delicate and soft and non-utilitarian that he lets himself have.

keeping with canon-adjacency, and this is gonna sound sad, i honestly don't think porter even tells jace about this part of him because he can't handle being seen as Weak due to [handwaves at his nightmare-inducing complexes about his masculinity]. he truly believes that if ANYONE found out something catastrophic would happen.

however porter loooooves lingerie on jace. he has opinions on what jace wears, likes having that level of control over him and how much jace wants to please him. obviously he loves to rip jace's pretty underwear apart and leave him looking absolutely ruined whenever they fuck.

okay finally these are all the thoughts i have on them WOW this got long sorry about that. but it really truly is a topic that needs exploration i think!!

[peachesofteal]

Does Ghoap Hades have a title? No. But it has a ✨ board ✨

[slyandthefamilybook]

A NON-EXHAUSTIVE BUT NEVERTHELESS EXHAUSTING LIST OF NEO-NAZI AND WHITE SUPREMACIST DOGWHISTLES

since some of y'all apparently need a refresher course. as always, use your judement when deciding if it's a dogwhistle or just innocent usage of a number or symbol

NUMBERS

100% - 100 percent white

109 or 110 - A reference to the 109 countries that have expelled, in whole or in part, their Jewish populations. 110 refers to the hope that more countries will do so, usually specifically the United States. Often posted on its own as a reply, or phrased as a question (e.g. "If you were kicked out of 109 bars it's probably our fault")

1290 - A reference to the Edict of Expulsion of 1290, which expelled the Jewish population of England

13/50 or 13/52 or 13/90 - The supposed statistic that Black Americans make up 13% of the population yet commit 50% or 52% of violent crime, or 90% of interracial violence. Often posted on its own as a reply

14 - The Fourteen Words, a Neo-Nazi slogan

14/23 - A number representing the Southern Brotherhood, an Alabama prison gang

1488 - A combination of the Fourteen Words and Heil Hitler

C18 - Combat 18, a British neo-Nazi group

18 - The letters A (1) and H (8), standing for Adolf Hitler

21-2-12 - The Letters U (21), B (2), and 12 (L), standing for Union, Brotherhood, and Loyalty, the slogan of the Unforgiven, a Florida prison gang

23 - Often thrown up as a hand sign, with two fingers raised on one hand and three fingers raised on the other. Represents the letter W (23), standing for white

271,000 - A reference to the supposed fact that the Red Cross claimed only 271,000 people had been murdered in concentration camps. In reality, that number reported by the Red Cross only came from reports from 13 concentration camps (there were 23 main camps, plus a large number of smaller "satellite" camps)

88 - H (8) H (8), standing for Heil Hitler

9% - A number representing the percentage of the world's population that is white

SYMBOLS

((( ))) - Triple parentheses, or echo. Used by neo-Nazis to call out someone as Jewish

Iron Cross - A German military decoration

Sonnenrad (Sun Wheel)

Reichsadler (Imperial Eagle) - A blocky, art-deco eagle facing to the side. Variants exist, some facing right, some facing left. The Parteiadler (Party Eagle) has a slightly different design. The Reichsadler is usually clutching a wreath with a swastika, although this is sometimes left out to maintain plausible deniability

Totenkopf (Death's Head) - A symbol used by the SS

Wolfsangel (Wolf's Hook) - Used as the insignia of various Wermacht (Nazi Military) divisions

Wolfsangel (horizontal)

Odal Rune - From the Proto-Germanic "Othala" meaning heritage

Algiz Rune - A symbol used by German nationalists

Celtic Cross

"Broken Sun" Cross

Arrow Cross - A Hungarian nationalist party that was active from 1935-1945. The symbol has been re-appropriated by modern neo-Nazis

Valknot

EMOJI

🤑 Greedy Face Emoji - Used to refer to "greedy Jews"

💰 Money Bag Emoji - Used to refer to "greedy Jews"

🥸 Disguised Emoji - Used to refer to Jews because of the enlarged nose

🤥 Lying Emoji - Used to refer to Jews because of the enlarged nose

👃 Nose Emoji - Used to refer to Jews

🙋‍♂️ Raising Hand Emoji - Used for its resemblance to the Sieg Heil salute

✋ Raised Hand Emoji - Used for its resemblance to the Sieg Heil salute

o/ or 0/ - Used for its resemblance to the Sieg Heil salute

🐸 Frog Emoji - A reference to Pepe the Frog, a webcomic charcter co-opted by the alt-right

👌 Okay Symbol Emoji - A hand symbol co-opted by the alt-right. Sometimes said to resemble the letters WP, or White Power

🚪 Door Emoji - Refers to the fact that some of the gas chambers (such as the ones at Auschwitz) had wooden doors, and therefore could not have been airtight enough to contain the Zyklon B gas used to murder prisoners. In reality, many of the wooden doors were either replaced with airtight metal ones, or were made airtight with strips of felt that then deteriorated or were removed

🚿 Showerhead Emoji - Refers to the showerheads used to dispense Zyklon B gas in the gas chambers

⛽ Gas Pump Emoji - Refers to gas chambers

⚡⚡ Double Lightning Emojis - Used for their resemblance to the Siegrune (victory rune) badge worn by members of the SS (Schutzstaffel)

💀 Skull Emoji - Used for its resemblance to the Totenkopf (Death's Head) used by the SS

☠️ Skull and Crossbones Emoji - Used for its resemblance to the Totenkopf (Death's Head) used by the SS

WORDS/PHRASES

6MWE - Six Million Wasn't Enough. A call for further genocide against Jews

AKIA - A Klansman I Am

Annudah Shoah - A mockery of both the Shoah (Holocaust) and the fear of further genocide

Auschwitz had a swimming pool/rec center/maternity ward/etc. - An attempt to diminish the horror of concentration camps by making them seem more like labor camps with amenities

Blood and Honor - A neo-Nazi slogan

Blood and Soil - A neo-Nazi slogan

Blood Libel - Not a phrase used by the far right, but something they often believe in or claim. Blood libel is an antisemitic conspiracy theory stretching back hundreds of years. The original claim was that Jews used the blood of Christian babies to bake matzah (a ritual food eaten on Passover). It has since evolved into images of Jews drinking blood, kidnapping and killing non-Jewish babies, and conspiracy theories about harvesting adrenochrome

Bowlcut - A reference to white supremacist mass-murderer Dylan Roof

Cohencidence - A portmanteau of Cohen (a common Jewish last name) and coincidence. Used to refer to Jewish control (e.g. "All these companies are owned by Jews! What a Cohencidence!")

COORS - "Comerades of Our Racial Struggle"

Cultural Marxism - A conspiracy theory that Jews are intentionally weakening "Western values" in order to make countries like the United States more susceptible to communism. This was called Cultural Bolshevism in Nazi Germany

Da Shoah or Muh Shoah or Muh Holocaust - A mockery of the Holocaust

Day of the Rope - A day referenced in neo-Nazi book The Turner Diaries when all race traitors will be hanged

Degenerate - An insult based on the false theory that bad morals will cause human beings to regress along the path of evolution (to de-evolve). Used to describe groups, individuals, or ideologies

Early Life - A reference to the "Early Life" section of Wikipedia biographies, which will reveal that a person is Jewish or has Jewish ancestry

Every Single Time - Every time something bad happens, the perpetrator is Jewish

Featherwood - A term derived from racist prison subculture. A featherwood is a woman associated with a racist gang

FGRN - For God, Race, and Nation. A Ku Klux Klan slogan

The Fourteen Words - A neo-Nazi slogan. "We must secure the existance of our people and a future for white children"

The Frankfurt School - A school of sociology founded at Goethe University Frankfurt in 1923. Usually blamed as the originator of "Cultural Marxism"

Fren - Internet slang. A diminutive of "friend", used to diminish Naziism and make it seems more harmless. Often used in usernames to describe one's self (e.g. sad_fren_88)

Globalist - A person who desires connection between countries in terms of politics, trade, and travel. Used to scaremonger about Jews destroying countries by removing their borders

Gorillion - A mockery of the number 6 million, being the amount of Jews who were murdered in the Holocaust

Goy - Hebrew for "nation", used by Jews to refer to non-Jews/gentiles. Used disparagingly by neo-Nazis to suggest Jews view non-Jews as beneath them

Goyslop - Unhealthy food that Jews force non-Jews to eat to keep them weak

Groid - A shortening of "Negroid", an archaic terms used to describe Black people

Groyper - A follower of avowed neo-Nazi Nick Fuentes. A reference to the "Groyper" meme, a variant of Pepe the Frog

GSHW - Germany Should Have Won (i.e. won World War II)

GTKRWN - Gas the Kikes; Race War Now

HDKH - Hitler Didn't Kill Himself. A neo-Nazi theory that Hitler escaped Germany and fled to Argentina

John 8:44 - "You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father's desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies." Part of Jesus' rebuke of his Jewish followers

Joo or Jooz - An intentional misspelling of "Jews" in an attempt to bypass censors or automatic content filters

Kate Hikes - A spoonerism of "hate kikes"

Kek - 4chan variation of "lol"

Kekistan - A fictional country imagined by white nationalists with a flag that resembles the Nazi battle flag

Khazar - A reference to the conversion of a group of Khazars (a Turkic people) to Judaism. Antisemites speculate that the entirity of Ashkenazi Jews are descended from these Khazar converts, and therefore have no historical, cultural, or genetic tie to the Levant. This has been proven false on multiple occasions

Kike - A racial slur against Jews

Lizard People or Reptilians - A conspiracy theory by far-right figure David Icke, claiming that world leaders are really reptilian aliens. Most people who believe this theory believe that the lizard people in question are the Jews

Magic Soil - A protest against the idea that people of one nationality can become people of another nationality simply by living in a country (i.e. "France doesn't have magic soil that turns Africans into Frenchmen")

Nicker - An intentional misspelling of the N word in an attempt to bypass censors or automatic content filters

Ns - Black people (as in the plural of the letter N)

NSDAP - Nationalsozialistiche Deutsche Arbeiterpartei. The Nazi party, but using an acronym that is unfamiliar to most people

NS - National Socialist

Noticer - Someone who "notices" that Jews control the world

The Noticing - A mass movement of people "noticing" that Jews control the world

New World Order - A far-right conspiracy theory about Jews taking control over the world and implementing a single world government. Also used in conjunction with phrases like "world banks"

OFOF - One Front, One Family. Slogan of the neo-Nazi group Volksfront

ORION - Our Race Is Our Nation

Oy Vey - A Yiddish exclamation meaning "oh woe". Used by neo-Nazis to mock Jews

Pattern Recognizer - Someone who has recognized the "pattern" of Jews always being in control

Peckerwood - A term derived from racist prison subculture. A peckerwood is a man associated with a racist gang

Power Level - A memeification of far-right beliefs. The more fascist your beliefs, the higher your "power level"

The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion - A 20th century Russian hoax claiming to be the minutes of meetings between Jewish leaders discussing how they will take control of the world

Pure Blood - Someone who is a pure member of the white race

Rabbi Smolett - A claim that Jews fabricate antisemitic hate crimes (a reference to actor Jussie Smolett who was accused of doing the same)

ROA - Race Over All

The Goyim Know - A phrase used by white supremacists acting like Jews who have discovered white supremacist activity, and are afraid that they've been found out. Often "The Goyim Know, Shut It Down", which adds the idea that Jews will prohibit any conversation that gets too close to the truth

The Red Cross - A reference to the supposed fact that the Red Cross claimed only 271,000 people had been murdered in concentration camps. In reality, that number reported by the Red Cross only came from reports from 13 concentration camps (there were 23 main camps, plus a large number of smaller "satellite" camps)

Tiny Hats or Tiny Hatted People - A reference to the Kippah or Yarmulke often worn by Jewish men

Reject Modernity, Embrace Tradition - A fascist slogan warning against social progress and calling for a return to a prelapsarian (usually ethnocentric) paradise

Rubbing Hands - A reference to an antisemitic charicature called "The Happy Merchant"

"To learn who rules over you, simply find out who you're not allowed to criticize" - A quote often misattributed to Voltaire, which neo-Nazis use to decry claims of antisemitism as efforts to silence them. In fact, it's a quote from a neo-Nazi pedophile

Shabbos Goy - A non-Jewish neighbor of a Jew who can be asked to perform acts Jews are forbidden from doing on the Sabbath (e.g. turning of a light or turning on the heat). Used by neo-Nazis to claim someone is a slave to Jews

Sheeeiiit - An over-the-top representation of how "shit" is said with a Blaccent. Often used in memes declaring Black people to be less intelligent

Shekels - Jewish currency (from the Hebrew word for weight, similar to how British currency is called the pound. In reality, the plural of shekel is shkalim). The name has been adopted by the State of Israel for the NIS (New Israeli Shekel). "Shekels" is used by neo-Nazis to mock Jews as being greedy

Synagogue of Satan - An antisemitic term for Jews, stemming from the Chrsitian Bible

They or Them - When used to describe a nebulous group of undefined adversaries, these words almost always refer to Jews

They Cry Out in Pain As They Strike You - An antisemitic proverb claiming that Jews will make false cries of antisemitism while at the same time perpetrating atrocities

Troon - A slur against trans people, particularly trans women

Volk - German for "folk", or "kind". Used by neo-Nazis to refer to white people

We Wuz Kangz - A racist phrase ment to mock Black nationalists

White Genocide - The myth that a group of people (usually Jews) are conspiring to eliminate the white race through various means including immigration, intermarriage, and homosexuality

WP - White Power

WN - White Nationalist or White Nationalism

Wooden Doors - Refers to the fact that some of the gas chambers (such as the ones at Auschwitz) had wooden doors, and therefore could not have been airtight enough to contain the Zyklon B gas used to murder prisoners. In reality, many of the wooden doors were either replaced with airtight metal ones, or were made airtight with strips of felt that then deteriorated or were removed

Zio - An abbreviation of "Zionist". Used derogatorialy by neo-Nazis

WPRWS - 'Weimar Problems Require Weimar Solutions" (sometimes shortened to just "Weimar Problems" or "Weimar Solutions"). Prior to the rise of the Nazi Party, the democratic Weimar Republic was in financial crisis (the eponymous "Weimar Problem"). This was often blamed on the Jews. The "Weimar Solution" is Naziism

ZOG - Zionist Occupied Government, reflecting the belief that the United States government is controlled by Jews

[ppjeterka]

my thoughts re: the main cast of the new nhl amazon docu-series

[turtleblogatlast]

One of the biggest things that makes me see Leo as trans is absolutely the size of his carapace in comparison to his brothers’.

And I’m not talking about height! I’m specifically looking at his shell here, because when you compare him to the others, particularly Donnie who is nearly the same height as Leo, it’s very clear that Leo’s carapace is much longer in proportion to the rest of his body.

Like - standing side by side, even though Donnie is shorter his carapace ends noticeably higher up than Leo’s does. And I like this not only because it really helps push the idea that Leo could very likely be trans (or intersex!), but it’s also just a fun design difference between them.

(It also lends way to future scenarios of Donnie eventually getting taller than Leo, but sitting down still has Leo being the taller one haha.)

[bucephaly]

It's kinda shocking to me how few people seem to know how prevalent the 'my great grandmother was cherokee' myth is and how it's almost never actually true, especially when it comes with things like 'never signed up' or 'fell off the trail' or 'courthouse burned down destorying the documentation' etc etc.

People just don't even seem to know the history like.. when the Trail happened. My great great great grandfather was 2 years old during Removal in 1838, so peoples 'my great grandmother hid in the mountains!' is so clearly wrong. And we have rolls. From before and after removal, rolls done by cherokee nation and others by the government, rolls that were not stored in one random flammable courthouse. It's not difficult to find the actual evidence of ancestry.

And just.. there are lots of ways those family stories get started. It was a practice during the confederacy to claim cherokee ancestry to show one's family had 'deep roots in the south' that they were there before the cherokee were removed. Many people pretended to be cherokee and applied for the Guion-Miller payout just to try to steal money meant for cherokees - 2/3rds of the applicants were denied for having 0 proof of actual cherokee ancestry. [We even see lawyers advertising signing up for the Miller roll just to try to get free money.] And the myth even started in some families in the cherokee land lotteries, where the land stolen from us was raffled off, including the house and everything that was left behind when the cherokees were removed. We have seen people whose families just take these things stolen from the cherokee family and adopt them into their own family story, saying that they were cherokee themselves.

If you had some family story about being cherokee and you wanna have proof one way or the other, check out this Facebook group run by expert cherokee genealogists that do research for free. Just please read the rules fully and respect the researchers. They run thousands of people's ancestries a year and their average is only around 0.7% of lines they run actually end up having true cherokee ancestry.

[princessefemmelesbian]

Transandrophobia truthers are so damn racist and white oh my fucking god y'all actually piss me the fuck off every time you tokenize Black and brown men for your stupid as fuck "mra but make it trans-inclusive" ideology created by a creepy guy with a corrective rape fetish(something I'll never let up on for as long as I live, btw). If I ever see another one of y'all say "Black and brown men face discrimination because they're seen as overly masculine and that's why masculinity in men is oppressed in this society" I will literally kill myself. Stop using Black and brown men as brownie points for your bullshit arguments about misandry being real when you don't have the slightest idea how racialized oppression works. White boys are so annoying and dumb istfg.

@punkeropercyjackson @punknicodiangelo @pinkpinkstarlet

[lucienne-thee-librarian]

Just to minimize my chances of being genuinely misunderstood OR deliberately misinterpreted, and crucified for something I don't think, How Dare You Say We Piss on the Poor website etc...I'm gonna say this right up top. I absolutely understand why people don't like Thessaly as a character, if anyone does completely unironically stan her as some kind of feminist hero who Did Nothing Wrong uwu, I personally see it as a bit of a red flag. I don't like terfs real or fictional. In a vacuum, I could even completely sympathize and agree with the people who want her cut.

HOWEVER.

It's really something to me to see people clamoring for her to be cut, because she carries and expressed an ugly indefensible prejudice (transphobia) in words towards (1) person. Meanwhile Hob fucking Gadling enacted one of the most violent forms of antiblack racism I can even think of against thousands no, millions of people, the ripple effects of which still affect billions more today. Just a little light idk, profiting off the fucking slave trade and had to be told by someone else that it was bad...and he's a fan favorite.

People are saying Thessally being Dream's love interest reflects badly on him or is somehow endorsement by the narrative (?!?!?!?!?!? Didn't she (SPOILER ALERT AS IF IT MATTERS BY NOW) help participate in his extended assisted suicide? She's not painted as a great person to me just another character what are y'all SMOKING whatever fine. It's fine this is fine.) But shipping Dream with Mr. Former Slaver is not only not verboten or frowned on widely in the fandom but its THEE most popular pairing by far. So...why the difference?

Like where are the same fans who are saying Thessaly shouldn't just be more clearly shown to be wrong, she shouldn't even be in the show at all when it comes to Hobert's crimes??? Yes, transphobia is indefensible. Isn't racism?

And I hear the cries of "it's fiction!!!" Already rallying (if anyone who needs to hear this even sees it lol) to which I say:

HORSESHIT. I KNOW you don't, deep down, really agree because if you did, why get upset about Thessaly being included??? Why does what she said to one person matter if it's Just Fiction You Guyze. Fictional characters are allowed to do bad things and fiction isn't reality sweaty....except when you only apply that standard to fictional racists you like and simp for, but fictional transphobes you don't are SO HARMFUL they shouldn't even be portrayed in fiction.

Like. Give me a big fat BREAK. This looks like bullshit, no? I'm sorry, but I'd love for someone to try and give any other explanation besides one personally offended you or hit home for you, and the other doesn't.

And if that bothers you or you feel like it says something negative about you...idk what you want me to say??? You can't control how other people perceive you and that's how people outside this majority-of-the-fandom bubble see it. You don't need to respond, I just wish and genuinely hope this gives you a moment to think about why fans who ARE bothered by both (and not just paying lip service to being bothered by the one but railing against the other) are so frustrated with people saying everyone is welcome but in practice only bending over backwards for the comfort and emotions of themselves, and people they can easily relate to.

You don't have to like Thessaly (I don't. I find her an interesting antagonist, I don't stan her. And frankly that's not the point of her character) but you'll pardon me for feeling more than a bit cynical and side eying people's motivations for what seems a...pretty obvious double standard, on what fictional crimes related to real world issues matter to y'all, and which clearly don't. Either actually bring the same energy to the table for fictional people who committed atrocities, even if against a group you're not part of and thus don't feel the need to empathize with, or just carry on, but accept that you don't have the SLIGHTEST room to talk about cutting characters who do immoral things. And you also need to accept that you look like a hypocrite when you do.

[reel-fear]

Genuinely so curious who Mike thinks is gonna be buying The Cage or the new DCTL GN bc with the way he tweets as far as he's concerned, it's not gonna be:

The queer people he has actively admitted he will never show any representation of in the games.

2. The POC he has actively fought against representing in his franchise. [Who he also mocked for thinking they would be represented in his franchise]

3. The Bendy fandom which has always been concerned with topics of diversity esp in the sense of queer people since its creation. Who he has responded to really poorly esp in regards to the GN.

4. The fans who critique him. [He blocked me for doing so lol]

5. His fans in general who he tweets about like this currently. [He's being vague about why people were mad at him or sent him 'nasty messages' because if you actually looked into why you'd see he was in the wrong. Either way, a very hateful way to speak abt ur own fanbase.]

Reminder while Mike is trash talking his fans he has always treated them rather poorly. The fans who won the fanart contest for Chapter 5 never got their posters actually in game due to it being rushed. Not only was chapter 5 a big slap to the face story wise, but it was literally so rushed he couldn't be bothered to add in the art his fans gave him for his game FOR FREE. [Meatly blames this on a crazy timeline, reminder him and Mike are the literal ceos of this company. The proposal of future updates here is also pretty cruel considering Mike nowadays happily admits he corrupted Chapter 5's source code and therefore literally can't update it At All currently. Because he is a moron]

At least they got to be in Boris and the dark survival, and by that I mean that was the Only game they got to be in so far, isn't that just treating your fans like you love them? Shoving their hard work into a spin off game almost nobody has played or addresses much. [Hell, who knows if with the Lone Wolf rebrand they'll even stay there. In which case they'll be in None of the games, only in the credits of BATIM]

6. The Bendy fans who just generally disagree with him on stuff. Like the new ink demon design where there is literally a public poll showing people generally prefer the old one.

7. The Bendy fans who can see he is actively lying to them. To their fucking faces.

He says this has always been the case, but screenshots and links to tweets regarding the books being canon prove it was not. Does he really think bendy fans are stupid or something? [Unless he's admitting here he lied to Kress when he told her the books were canon which sounds worse!]

8. Anyone who doesn't like the idea of giving money to a guy who laid off tons of employees then afterwards thought it was a great idea to express his anti-union views! Also brag about how good of an employer he was, according to his employees, he was not!

So in summary; Mike is an awful person who has not learned anything from the awful things he did. I will not be purchasing The Cage because, combined with this and his absolute refusal to take any kind of critique or see any differing interpretation of his franchise, I have no reason to think my problems with the franchise will ever be addressed or fixed. I probably will pirate The Cage along with any future Bendy Products [Including the movie] and will do my best to avoid giving it any kind of monetary support. Unless this changes any time soon, I can't see myself making anymore positive Bendy posts soon.

Mike has just managed to make it so hard to speak positively or optimistically of this franchise when he's so willing to broadcast how little he cares about it or its fans. I'm at the point where I refuse to pull any of my punches with my problems with it. What's the point of trying to play nice with my critique when either way the people creating it don't care?

So with this post, I want to invite anyone who feels similarly about the franchise to tell me, make a post or send an ask talking about how all of this makes you feel. It may not change how things are, but genuinely seeing other people share my feelings of anger makes me feel better. It feels nice to see when other people share our same concerns and worries. I'd also love to know if anyone else thinks they'll be avoiding purchasing Bendy products over this.

I'm not forcing anyone to participate in it nor trying to say anyone who doesn't supports mike but genuinely maybe if we can collectively decide to boycott things like the movie, graphic novel and The Cage... It might at least make the bendy devs acknowledge how much they have destroyed their own fandom's faith and trust in them.

The way Mike tweets about his actions like he had no control over why people were mad at him at least proves to me he takes NONE of it back nor regrets it. If you didn't know about his actions and only went off his tweets, you would be led to believe Mike has been needlessly picked apart by fans over things he couldn't control [or in his own words, had his words twisted and taken out of context]. That is not how you speak about your actions if you have actually learned better from them.

anyway, that has been my bendy dev callout post. This is an open invitation to anyone feeling similarly upset about the way the franchise is going to talk about it. It's genuinely nice to see how people feel about this and the more we talk about the more it's likely the bendy devs are forced to address our concerns. I don't think they will but hey, that's why I'm not gonna support them with my money anymore nor am I gonna be nice to them in any content I make critiquing Bendy. I mean I'm also basically making this post just in case anyone asks me Why I feel this way towards to bendy devs/as a way to respond to anyone who thinks I am too harsh in my critique in the future.

As always, it seems the best part of Bendy isn't actually anything about canon but about what the fan's are creating with the ideas Bendy failed to do anything interesting with.

Also the books, the books slap.

[cupiidzbow]

need to go grocery shopping soon and I also kinda want to go the bakery to get those soft frosted sugar cookies….. idk why im craving them like something awful rn ……….

[theoldkyokodied]

DEE IN THE DOOR WAY OF YOUR LATEST MAC AND DENNIS ART DUMP IS FUCKING SENDING ME LMAOOOOOO

I already replied this to a comment on instagram but i don't think i'll write anything more cohesive about my thoughts on deandra 'doorway haunter' reynolds: she is serving carrie white with a side of regina george after she got hit by that bus. haunting the doorway while her loser brother is hanging out with his loser friend, making fun of old skin mags they found. it's not like she wants to be part of that, but she would have loved to shoot the invitation down.