#the real thing that baffles me after all this time is why people go so hard for nmj in particular

[jj-one]

HATE YOU

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: enemies to lovers ? (sorta one-sided tho), college au, fuckboy!jungkook x f!reader genre/tags: smut, angst, alcohol usage, dirty talk, lowkey perverted!jk, fingering, piv, unprotected sex (oof), drunk sex, public sex (reader & jk do it at a house party), riding, video recording **pls don’t do none of this irl LMAO words: 2.7k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Hate is a strong word— at least that’s what people try and say. You meant it though, it was a word you didn’t use lightly. Especially when it came to your opinion on 99% of the male population at your school. You couldn’t stand most of them, they all just wanted one thing. Getting into your pants.

You despised hook-up culture with a passion and it didn’t help that most guys who tried talking to you were all the same. You had a special hatred for a particular individual the most though— Jeon Jungkook from your physics class. He was the most arrogant, conceited, egotistical person you’ve ever met your whole life.

Every class he would have a different girl with him wrapped around his arm, walking him to the door like he’s some kind of royalty. The way almost every girl would swoon over him just because he’s good looking was baffling to you. Yeah he may have a pretty face but does that cancel everything else out? Of course not. You’ll never understand why these women would choose to go after someone like him, you felt embarrassed for them honestly.

“Jungkook, meet me after class I’ll be waiting for you!” Some girl shouted through the door to get his attention.

He was sitting two seats from you, looking at his phone while paying no mind to the obvious screaming being directed to him. He was so full of himself it was ridiculous.

“Hey y/n, what’re you doing tonight?”

That voice startled the hell out of you. Who gave Jungkook the right to even be speaking to you right now? Looking over in his direction, you give him an empty stare.

“Why do you care?” You said harshly.

It makes no sense why he would even try talking to you, you’ve never given him any indication you liked him.

“Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” he chuckles, “you should pull up to my party tonight!” You wanted to almost physically gag at the wink he just gave you.

“I’m good.” You shut him down quickly and try moving on but he doesn’t let you off that easy.

“You sure? The whole schools practically gonna be there, you don’t wanna miss out on all the fun do ya?” That annoying smirk on his face was really starting to irritate you.

“I said I’m good, I’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties.”

“I think you got me mixed up with someone else, my parties are always lit. If you have a change of heart though, I’ll make sure to show you a real good time.”

You scoff, utterly disgusted by his last comment, just about everything he said had sexual undertones to them. His humor was weird and extremely perverted which heavily pissed you off. You couldn’t wait for this class to be over.

“We’re almost here!” Yuna exclaims in the passenger seat.

You were in the back with two of your other friends as you were headed to a party. You weren’t totally up for partying tonight but ultimately your friends were able to convince you to go. You don’t even know where the party is but maybe it’s good to get your mind off things.

“Oh, by the way who’s party is this?” You ask suddenly as Lisa pulls into a driveway.

The car got silent for a second, no one answered your question. It was a bit odd to you the way they all froze up.

“Actually… it’s Jungkook’s party…” Lisa finally spoke, her eyes kept trailing away from you.

“What the fuck? Of all places you choose to go you pick him?!” You felt so betrayed.

They really drove you all the way here just to trick you into coming and now you have no escape plan. They all begged and pleaded for you to suck it up and let loose for just one night. You finally agreed but only under the condition that you want to be far away from him as possible.

“Why do you even dislike him so much? You would think he had murdered someone or something!” Your friend asks.

“I just think he’s a pretentious asshole that doesn’t deserve all the hype he gets.”

They just shrug your opinion off and get out the car. You huff as you open the door and head to the party with the rest of them.

You instantly felt claustrophobic once you go inside. There were crowds of people everywhere. Jungkook was right, everyone at the school was practically here. Loud rap music was blaring through the speakers, red solo cups scattered the floor, people getting sloppy drunk or stoned; the perfect stereotypical house party.

You haven’t seen him yet so that was a good sign and you go up to the kitchen to get drinks with Lisa. 20 minutes pass by now and Lisa was left out of your sight. You have no idea where she could’ve run off to and now you have to search the place to find your friends.

Heading outside into the backyard, your balance was becoming unstable from the alcohol in your system. You were taking shots of Hennessy back to back and it caught up to you faster than you could blink. You sat down on one of the lawn chairs since your head was starting to feel really heavy. You felt a sudden tap behind your shoulder and hear a voice that even when you’re drunk, you can sense with disdain.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t little miss ‘i’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties!’” Jungkook teases while coming from behind you.

“Get the hell away from me!” You lean away from him to leave you alone but he only came closer.

“This is my house so I don’t need to go anywhere, if anything I think I should kick you out for being so mean to me.” His face inched towards yours further, putting you in an uncomfortable position.

You don’t know why your body felt paralyzed though, it was probably just from all the alcohol inebriating your mind.

“You know, I never understood why you actually hate me. I never hurt you did I?” He says, slightly cocking his head to the side.

His tattooed hand landed on your knee, just planting it there while keeping strong eye contact. You couldn’t speak for some reason, it was as if an enormous lump has formed and got caught inside your throat. He looks down at the skirt you’re wearing and bites his lip, playing with his lip ring.

“Why aren’t you talking? You usually have a lot to say to me, why so quiet now sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?” He continues speaking in that condescending tone of his and you’ve had enough now.

“I fucking hate your guts Jungkook, I absolutely despise you. You’re a cocky, perverted fuckboy that needs to be humbled and finally put in your place!” You snap back at him while pushing his hand away.

“Woah girl chill out, that was a bit harsh don’t ya think? Also, I’d love for you to put me in my place any day.” Yet again, he never fails to make a sexually charged comment.

“You’re disgusting, seriously get help!” You attempt to get up from the lawn chair but he pushes you back down.

“You know, I’ve always liked my girls a little feisty. I find it hot when girls yell at me.”

Either this man has a humiliation kink or is just plain stupid— either way you don’t want to be anywhere near him but he wouldn’t let you leave.

“Please just go away Jungkook, I don’t want you in my sight anymore.”

“Really? Because if that were true then you would’ve been left already,” his hand went to stroke the side of your hair “seems like you really don’t want me to leave.”

His other hand went back to your knee again but slowly trails up to your thigh and goes under your skirt this time. You were surprised within yourself that you were even letting this happen. He leans in to your face, being just a few inches away from his lips. You became almost in a trance by those pink, pillowy lips. You don’t know what came over you but you grab his face and messily kiss him. The movement of your lips colliding and syncing together as he deepened the kiss. He sensually touches your thigh while you moan into the kiss and he squeezes your thigh tightly in response. Looking around to see all the people still here when you pull away from him; you can’t fathom you just made out with Jungkook in front of all these goddamn people. You just lost all respect for yourself.

“You know I’ve always secretly had a crush on you y/n?” Jungkook admits, “I kinda like it when girls are mean to me. Or maybe I just like it when you’re mean, I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Let me show you how mean I can get then.” You reply, staring up at him with hungry eyes.

That cheesy grin never leaving his face as he hears you speak. The tension only grew thicker and he wasn’t about to waste another second.

“Sit on my lap.” He uses his hands to maneuver you and leans back in the chair.

You drunkenly stumble on top of him, feeling him against you. Your body heat raised through the roof but this time you were sure it wasn’t because of the liquor. You straddle his lap as you go back to hastily making out. His wandering hands kept slipping down to your ass to squeeze it and you were starting to feel dizzy from the way he was kissing you. You feel his touch under your skirt to play with you some more, not caring if anyone’s looking at this point.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.. not here at least. Too many people.” You say when pulling away from his lips.

“I really don’t give a fuck, it’s my party let them watch. Let’s put on a good show for everyone, yeah?”

You know this goes beyond against every moral you’ve had before. You’re about to do the one thing you told yourself that you’d never do.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Agreeing to go along with his narrative.

He lets you in charge now, letting you have full control over the way you get to ride him. You push your panties to the side and he undoes his pants to free his fully hard member. You didn’t realize how much of a nice cock he has, it was well groomed and had the perfect size/width.

“You have a really pretty dick, must I say.” You still can’t believe these words are being said to Jungkook.

“Thanks baby, I can’t wait for it to be in that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He drags two of his fingers down to your core and swipes in a circular motion, smearing the wet slick as he watches your mouth open wide with pleasure. His digits sink into your cunt harshly, pushing them deeper and deeper.

“Fuck! Your fingers feel too good…” you hid your face in his shoulder as he splits you open.

Your eyes hung low and your mind was hazy. Unable to think straight, you just wanted to feel Jungkook inside of you already.

“Need to fuck you nowww!” You yell, almost sounding a bit whiny.

“So do it then cutie. Come fuck yourself on my cock.”

He withdraws his digits out of you and licks the juices off them one by one. His grin would only get wider as you lowered yourself on his cock. You were so soaking wet you sunk down on him easily while resting your hands around his shoulders to brace yourself a bit before moving. Once you regain focus you slide up and down on his shaft nice and slow; making him bite his lip, moan, and curse under his breath.

“Your pussy feels so good… so tight… fuck..” his mind was going blank as you pick up a steady pace.

You were so out of it by now that you were bouncing on his cock in a frenzy. He roughly thrusted his hips back into you while you sloppily rode him. The way he filled you up felt like you were in heaven. You open your eyes for a second, forgetting that you were at a party. Almost everyone was looking at you, some people even took out their phones to record the scene in front of them. It was probably all the alcohol you drank but you didn’t even care anymore, you continued savagely riding him. You’re moaning louder as you slam down into him harder, pulling his body closer to yours. He loudly grunts from your walls aching around him, his cock was throbbing so intensely he felt himself wanting to burst already.

People were beyond shocked to see this happening, it was a wild party but they weren’t expecting all this. You try not to pay attention to everyone and focus on Jungkook so you can make yourself cum. Then out of nowhere, he spontaneously lifts you up while you’re still on his cock. Engulfing those large hands on your ass cheeks to keep you balanced and thrusts into you deep while he’s standing up. You had your arms wrapped tightly around him, you weren’t too scared of falling since he had a strong grip on you. You were taking his cock with each harsh stroke he gave, screaming out his name over and over so the whole party could hear it.

“Fuck yes Jungkook! Keep fucking me just like that, you’re so good!!” You could feel yourself coming close and so does Jungkook. Wet strands of sticky hair cling to his face from all the work he’s putting in, his eyebrows furrowed to concentrate solely on making you cum.

“Gonna cum on this cock for me baby? I feel you getter tighter ‘round me.”

“Yess, wanna cum on your cock so bad please!”

He was hitting all the spots in you just right, the slight curve of his shaft fit so perfectly in your core. Your mouth was back to being jaw locked again, feeling the heat wave of your orgasm coming through. It hit even harder when you were drunk, you felt like you were going to fall out of his arms but he noticed you slipping and pulls you up into a firmer grasp. While shutting your eyes you feel your release take over, cursing and moaning his name repeatedly like a broken record.

“I’m ‘bout to cum ….” He pulls out of you and sets you back on the lawn chair, “look up and open wide for me.”

You open your mouth eagerly for him, he gives his cock a few pumps before releasing his white creamy load into your mouth. You swallow every drop of his cum and stick your tongue out for him to show your empty mouth. He smiles at the pretty sight of you and goes in to kiss you once again.

“This is fucking insane!” One of the random people at the party says.

You recognize the person since they’ve been watching you from the start. To say that you and Jungkook left everyone at that party speechless was an understatement.

“You know people were taking videos of us right?” Jungkook says cautiously.

“Yeah… it’s probably going to end up all over social media now, if it hasn’t already. Oh well, like I care!” You shrug nonchalantly.

Oh you’ll definitely care when you sober up.

“Let’s get outta here?” Jungkook zips his pants back up and takes his hand out for you to grab.

You hold onto him and balance your wobbly legs to stand up. You were both severely drunk but he held his liquor way better than you did. For the rest of the night, the party continued and you ended up finding your friends. They soon found out about you were doing and how you fucked Jungkook in front of everyone there, they were all completely taken aback. You went from hating his guts to him destroying yours— guess that’s one way you can end a burning hatred for someone.

[leighsartworks216]

Screaming crying crawling up the walls for your top tier Astarion content

Idk if you’ve seen this, it’s floating around the internet (I think it’s a tweet?) it says something like “I want someone to grab my face and say ON PURPOSE, I WILL CARE FOR YOU ON PURPOSE” and I’d love to see our love-deprived bi-centurion react to something like this.

Like maybe he’s caught feelings for tav and is starting to feel bad for manipulating them and starts self-sabotaging by saying/thinking stuff like ‘you only THINK you love me but it’s not real, I’m sorry I made you feel this way’ and tav getting v v serious and replying “I never loved you by accident”.

Him being confronted by the fact that things never would’ve gotten this far if they didn’t let it, if they didn’t choose him, that they’re still choosing him and that it has nothing to do with the act he put up or the situation he constructed, if they wanted nothing to do w him they could’ve and would’ve dipped.

Idk I’m just spitting ideas, have fun babe ✌🏻

- 🦇

I wrote this at 2am but I did proofread it (it's almost 4 now 💀)

Also the original tweet is by Jenny Slate (@/jennyslate) and says, "I just want someone to grab my little face and scream 'ON PURPOSE, ON PURPOSE I AM GOING TO CARE ABOUT YOU'"

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, references to manipulation, self-deprecation, references to dissociation, dissociation mention, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,392

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

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It began one night, almost a week ago. Astarion had gotten into the routine of joining you in your bedroll after feeding, cuddling close and relaxing to the steady sound of your heartbeat. That night, a week ago, he didn’t. He delicately bit into your skin and pulled away before you were even slightly dizzy, murmured something about how you’d need your strength for a fight tomorrow, and slipped off to hunt for animals. Truly, you didn’t think anything of it, then. And maybe you got so lost, so caught up in your daily stress, that was why you didn’t register it for so long. Comments under his breath about manipulation immediately covered up with Gale requesting a magical artifact or Shadowheart and Lae’zel fighting.

So, a week went by. And the realization finally hit. Guilt ate away at your stomach, but wallowing wasn’t going to help. When night started to creep in, your companions slipping into their tents, you slipped into Astarion’s. Sitting in a pile of pillows, he looked up at you with a smirk and a ‘Hello, darling’, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were dark. Distant.

“I’m sorry I haven’t given you the attention you need,” you start. A baffled look flickers across his face, but it is not given the time to settle.

There is a twitch at the corner of his mouth, like it’s a strain for him to keep smirking. “It’s perfectly alright, darling. You’ve been busy running around camp, helping people - I understand.”

With any other person, this would have seemed a perfectly reasonable response. An apology accepted, a mutual understanding - the relationship goes on. Except, this was Astarion.

You sit down nearby, close enough to reach out and touch. Any closer and you worried you’d overcrowd him. You always tried to let him come to you first, though he usually struggled to initiate anything.

“You’ve been distant, too,” you point out. He begins to form the words to apologize, but you shake your head to stop him before they can build a sentence. “I’m not upset, I don’t need an apology. I just wanted to know why.”

To be honest, he didn’t expect you to notice. He assumed, quite stupidly, all things considered, that you would be too preoccupied to notice him slowly slipping away. Late night cuddles dashed for hunting, hand holding forgotten as he trails along at the back of the group, kisses never lingering and the ones that did lacking any emotion behind them.

“Is something wrong?” you prompt gently. “If it’s too much, we can work out what would be better for you.”

Guilt stabs at his own non-beating heart like a wooden stake. He’s drifting and you still throw him a rope, still ask for him to grab on and pull himself away from his past, from dissociating with the slightest hint of affection.

He smiles wryly. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he teases, but it comes out a little too strained to be a joke. His fingers fiddle with the corner of the page of his book. He finds watching the paper fold and bend is much more interesting than looking into your eyes.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he says, but the endearment feels like fire on his tongue, “but it’s not real. This isn’t real.” Your brow furrows as you stare at him. He can’t bear to see the realization cross your face. “Two hundred years of manipulating - of course I would trick you, too. It’s instinct, darling, I don’t blame you.” Red eyes finally meet yours. You look confused, of course, but there’s an air of determination, like you’re ready to fight whatever plagues him. “But this… love… it’s not real. And for what it’s worth, I am sorry I made you feel this way.”

He expects anger. He expects tears, even. Crying and shouting and ‘How could you?!’s and ‘I can’t believe you’ve manipulated me all this time!’ But it never comes. You frown, sure, but it’s leagues away from being angry.

“You think… you manipulated me into feeling this way?”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Admitting it feels bitter. He blames it on his growing fondness for you, but he knows it cannot possibly be returned in any genuine way. Not with his underhanded tactics surfacing at every passing glance, soft brush, and gentle smile. “Come now, darling,” he smirks again, building a wall to separate himself from the shitshow that must be just ‘round the corner, “who could really love me?”

That only succeeds in making you frown further. “Astarion, I’m not with you because you’ve tricked me.” The baffled look from earlier surfaces again, but it lingers, mixed with doubt. “I understand that you started this to manipulate me into protecting you, but I’m not here because you successfully influenced my emotions - To be perfectly honest, I could tell from the start.”

He laughs dryly, suddenly, like it startles him. “And here I was thinking I’d learned some subtlety.”

You don’t laugh with him. You don’t even smile. “I chose you, Astarion. I still choose to be with you. Because I want to.”

Any lingering mask of confidence fell from his face. The creases around his mouth became more prominent as he frowned. His eyes darted around, glancing around your face for any tells of deception, any hint that you’re making this up to make him feel better. “How can you be sure? How do you know you’re choosing me and not just buying into another act?”

“Astarion.” You get on your knees and hold his face in your hands. He stares up at you with big, round eyes. “If I wanted to, I could break up with you. I am not staying because I feel stuck, or because I feel obligated to. I love you. On purpose. On purpose, I am staying with you. On purpose, I choose you.”

He opens his mouth, but no words form. His mind is reeling, chasing to catch up and process everything, all the while jumping and flipping, trying to find excuses or reasons why you shouldn’t care for him. He swallows the lump building in his throat. He speaks in a whisper, too stunned to speak louder. “Are you sure?”

Your whole face softens. Determination turns to fond affection, frown lifting into a soft grin. “Yes. I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his forehead, and he closes his eyes to savor it. It’s been a week without allowing himself your love - he deserves to enjoy it once again, even if he feels guilty for it. He wishes his thoughts would just shut up and let him have this. “If you still need space or time, I’ll be here. I’m not leaving. Just,” you pull his face back, “please talk to me about this next time. I know things have been hectic, but I’m never too busy for you.”

He sighs, slow and soft. Relieved. “Of course, my love.” He adores the way you smile brightly at the endearment. He turns sheepish. “Ah, could I, possibly, join you tonight? It does, admittedly, get rather lonely passing the time alone.”

You kiss his cheek. “Of course you can. C’mon, I’ll even play with your hair if you’d like.”

He chuckles, genuine this time. “I very much would.” His book is set aside, the page he left off on lost as he takes your hand and follows you from his tent. He can’t help himself from squeezing your hand in his, like he can’t quite grasp the fact you are physically holding onto him. Even when you lay down first and he settles in next to you, arms wrapped around your middle and his head on your chest, it still feels hard to believe. But the way you wrap your arms around him and gently detangle his curls and scratch lightly at his scalp cannot possibly be from his imagination. Nor the way you press kisses on his forehead and temple and hair with sweet praises and words of affection. His mind is not kind enough to imagine such tenderness.

Laying there in your arms, listening to the steady beat of your heart and even breaths that fill your lungs as you slip into sleep, is the closest he has ever been to true contentment.

---

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[baejax-the-great]

Absolutely reeling.

So I knew that the origin of "Hector was a great man, moral, noble, better than all of the Greeks" began as Roman propaganda that somehow has made it to now, the year 2023, and is still taught to high school students.

What I did not know was why scholars shit on Achilles as vehemently as they did (and still do).

My copy of Fagles' translation of the Iliad has a preface by a different scholar who I'm not going to bother to name because he's an idiot (and idk probably dead at this point). I read the entire thing, absolutely baffled, because he would cite a part of the text (that I admittedly had not read yet! at all!), quote it, and then come to the most batshit interpretation based on that quote I had ever seen in my life. His general take was that Achilles was a sociopath who had no feelings for anyone other than himself and his own pride, and every action he took (until welcoming Priam into his hut) was done in service of that pride. To support this, he decided that Achilles did not see Patroclus as a person, but rather as an extension of himself, and thus someone injuring Patroclus was them injuring Achilles, and so he did not care about Patroclus, he only cared about his wounded pride.

Yeah.

That sounded wrong before reading the book, and while reading the book all i could think was, "Did we read the same fucking thing???" Put in context, those quotations still did not support his conclusions whatsoever.

But i cracked open Caroline Alexander's "The War That Killed Achilles" last night, and she solves this mystery of "Hector good, Achilles bad" for me right out the gate (which is good because so far I've only read the preface).

Western Europeans by and large learned about the Trojan war from Roman stories, which became fairly popular, and not the Iliad, which was not translated into French or English until centuries later. As mentioned, these were propaganda that cast the Trojans in a much better light than the Greeks because the Romans believed they were descended from Trojan refugees. This starts a trend that is still going on in scholarly circles as casting the Iliad as a war between "barbaric Greeks living in a shitty, lawless camp" vs "civilized, educated, weaving, real-wife-having Trojans," making the Iliad a tragedy in which Homer for some reason skewers his own people and their warlike culture as barbaric while propping up a dead, foreign city-state. This interpretation is still extant and was the postscript to another copy of the Iliad I have.

According to Alexander, scholars closer to Homer's time saw the entire war as a tragedy--both the destruction of Troy AND the destruction of the Greek army. While this is not covered in the Iliad, very few Greeks actually made it home after Troy. Some that did were then outcast (Teucer for example), some were murdered (bye, Agamemnon), some went on to create new kingdoms in other places (Diomedes), but by and large, there was no going home from that war. There was no great victory with all their loot. The entire thing was a disaster for both sides, spurred on by fickle gods.

Back to the more recent European interpretations of this story, one reason Hector ended up cast in such a "good" light, despite being a dumbass who wants to dishonor dead people just as badly as Achilles ever did, was in order to make Achilles look worse. Why was it important that Achilles becomes a villain in this story in which he is very much not a villain? Because Europeans were involved in so much war with each other and the rest of the world that a young, insubordinate man who criticizes his idiot of a commander, decides his life isn't worth throwing away for this war, and refuses to fight to sack a city was an affront to their values. Young men were to be obedient, follow their commanding officers, and colonize the world for queen and country. Achilles suggesting losing his life is not worth it to prop up Agamemnon's war is a dangerous precedent for all the good little soldiers needed to make their nations wealthy.

It's almost funny that these analyses propping up Troy as a beacon of civilization were made by people living in countries so bent on colonizing the world. They identified with the city being sacked and not the greedy sackers of said city, who they were much closer to. And Achilles, educated, morally rigid, emotional Achilles, is recast as a sociopathic asshole who doesn't care about anyone other than himself, unlike all of those other beacons of selflessness among the Greek leadership.

The tragedy of the Iliad is that Achilles is right, the war is pointless, Agamemnon did dishonor the shit out of him, and it doesn't matter because he's going to die in it anyway.

Frankly, given how badly his character has been interpreted for so long, I think the muses owe him an apology.

[misc-obeyme]

It’s me I’m back with Lesson 34 spoilers below. (including the hard lesson)

I always try to write these posts shortly after finishing the lesson so that it’s like… my immediate and unfiltered thoughts lol. Sometimes I change my mind about stuff after I see other people’s interpretations of things. So if you were wondering why I’m taking the time to write this at 2 am, that’s why. I totally forgot about the lesson during the day due to the whole Thanksgiving thing.

ANYWAY.

I feel like we got SO MUCH BARB in this lesson?? He was barely in it. But we had other characters talking about him and that honestly makes me happy, too. Probably because I like when they give us some perspective into his character.

BUT FIRST.

Belphie. We were actually playing the role of Lilith in his little Celestial Realm dream sequence, right? And then at the end it’s all but we’re not siblings.

Listen. I just think that Belphie has a lot of unresolved trauma surrounding Lilith and I really don’t feel like having MC play hide-and-seek with him in a dream is going to be enough to help him move past it. Enough to make him want to help MC? Maybe. But I dunno.

However, I also think I probably shouldn’t expect anything more intense than that from an otome game. They were just trying to give us SOMETHING to explain why he was cool with making a pact.

WHICH WE FINALLY DID. With Beel, Belphie, AND Levi. I get Beel & Belphie doing theirs at the same time, but I’m still a little baffled about why Levi waited so long. There probably isn’t a reason, but who knows maybe they’ll surprise us with something lol.

Ah. Lucifer.

This was my favorite part:

I love Mammon, he always just says exactly what he’s thinking (unless it’s how much he loves MC lol).

But we all knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, right? We knew Lucifer would be last. We knew that Lucifer would be the most difficult one to make a pact with. Remember what happened with him last time? Of course he doesn’t want to make a pact with us now. We’re likely going to be going through some kind of long drawn out drama that will eventually lead to Lucifer giving in and making a pact with us.

However, I found both Solomon’s and Diavolo’s reactions to this absolutely hilarious:

Can the two of you take this seriously, please?? I know you both find Lucifer highly entertaining and yeah, I'm usually laughing at him most of the time, too, but I need that pact to get back to where I'm from, thanks.

But we’re only on Lesson 34. So I think we still have plenty of time to make a pact with Lucifer, learn the truth about Nightbringer, and return to our timeline (or have the timelines merge or whatever nonsense they’re gonna do).

I’m still hoping for all that to get resolved by the end of this season lol.

Now, I found this exchange from Belphie’s Celestial Realm shenanigans especially interesting:

Assuming this is accurate to what actually happened when Lucifer was still an angel, this means that the angels knew Barbatos. They know him by name, they clearly think he’s a big deal, and they’re surprised that he’s agreed to be Diavolo’s butler.

I was always under the impression that the demons and the angels didn’t really know much about each other. But now I’m wondering if maybe Barbatos had something to do with the end of the war that happened before the Celestial War. The one that was between the Celestial Realm and the Devildom. I have no reason for thinking this other than the fact that as angels, Lucifer & Simeon clearly know him. And what else would they know him from? Though I suppose anything could have happened lol.

And then there was all of this:

What does it MEAN?! (Obviously I chose the second option for MC's dialogue, which increased Barb's intimacy.)

Barbatos my true love. Why did you give MC a real piece of paper from your grimoire? He’s always been cautious, always keeping MC at arm’s length, and now all of a sudden it’s here’s a piece of my grimoire? There is NO WAY he doesn’t have all of the build up from the OG. I can’t believe that he would actually give MC a piece of his grimoire if he had only just met them at the beginning of Nightbringer. So I’m tacking this on as additional evidence that Barb knows all.

Also can we just appreciate Lucifer in 32-A? All his brothers are completely out of it and he single-handedly motivates every one of them back into action.

It sure worked, huh? Do you think the credit card is in the freezer yet?

You guys. THE HARD LESSON.

It was everything. I LOVE the Little Ds. I LOVE them hanging out with Diavolo. I LOVE that Barbatos couldn’t accompany MC because Diavolo requested some fancy human world dish. This entire hard lesson was *chef’s kiss*

GOD I love Barb's knowing look and Dia's little frown. I love them so much it's almost painful lol.

Okay that’s all I’ve got to say about this lesson. In general, I enjoyed it. They coulda played up Belphie’s yandere tendencies a bit more. I felt like his change of heart was rather rushed, but they really can’t put him through the therapy he needs. I don’t think the lessons are long enough for that.

[creedslove]

OMG BESTIE YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT.

i had this dream where me, Joel and Ellie were in Jackson and him and I were together after years of surviving and then (I still don't know how) I switched to the no-outbreak time where Sarah is alive and Joel is in his 40's. We didn't knew each other and I accidently bumped into him while walking with my daughter Ellie (at that point I'm in tears) and we look at each other and I have this deja vu and he seems to have it too! We don't say anything, just smile at each other and then I wake up. (I hope it makes sense 😭)

I wish Joel was real. (especially with his silver hair and southern accent that makes my knees buckle)

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: omg bestie you got me screaming and crying and throwing up honestly! This dream is amazing and it sort of reminds me of X-Men Days of Future Past in which Wolverine needs to go back in time to save the mutants and prevent the extinction of mutants and humans! I like this idea so I turned into a headcanon adapting to the no mutation tlou reality hehehehe

• Joel thought the dreams he was having were beyond explanation at how weird they really were; every single night he would wake up in cold sweat, panting and wondering what the hell was going on with him

• his dream was always the same: he would dream about a world that had ended and for some reason he had survived, where monstrous creatures that seemed a mix of humans and some kind of fungus had wiped most of civilization and the world as he knew; in the dream Joel was a low life, a depressed, lonely and hard guy who had lost the will of living right after his daughter got killed and that was enough for Joel to snap wake and immediately tiptoe to her bedroom, just to watch her sleep and make sure she was alright and her bedroom was still pink and full of butterflies and not some ruin of what things used to be

• it puzzled Joel, because he had no idea where that was coming from; he wasn't one to watch zombie or horror stuff, reading books was definitely not his cup of tea and he seriously couldn't understand why kids like Sarah obsessed over watching TikToks, so he thought he didn't actually have the creativity for that

• maybe he'd eaten one of Tommy's suspicious brownies by accident?! It could be a possibility, but his brother was extra careful with these since Sarah was around

• still, it didn't matter the reason why Joel had those disturbing dreams, but the frequency they were happening, and not only that: he very often saw people he knew from his everyday life in the dream as well

• such as his former girlfriend Tess, his brother Tommy and his girl Maria, he recalls seeing those two kids who lived down the street from him... Henry and Sam, he recognized them from Sarah's school, the older brother making ends meet and always having to attend parent - teacher conferences and the little one being the gifted student his daughter told him about

• even that nut job from the other block, Kathleen showed up every once in a while, Bill and Frank, and several other friends and acquaintances Joel had met through his life and the city

• but from all the crazy shit his, what baffled him the most was that you and your daughter Ellie featured in his dream as well; he knew Ellie was a firecracker from all the school meetings he'd attended, which honestly amused him. He thought she was pretty strong and smart and it always made him chuckle when she put a boy back into his place

• but it was so confusing to him that he almost had a fatherly bond with her, at the same time he had a relationship with you. Joel had always found you attractive and he very often kept in the back of his mind his desire of asking you out, but he never went through it, and yet, in his apocalyptic dreams you were going strong, it was just odd

• Joel kept thinking of those dreams for a few days, he even considered seeing a shrink after Sarah told him he should do it, but being a stubborn Miller the way he was, he just shrugged it off and eventually, his sleep went back to normal and he got too caught up with work to pay attention to things like that

• it was only one weekend where he was taking a walk around the neighborhood with Sarah, he ended up running into you, smiling and waving gently, he felt his heart skip a beat, thinking of your apocalyptic romance and thinking of how crazy it would be to miss something he never really had

• when you saw your neighbor Joel waving and smiling from across the street, you immediately reciprocate, he was handsome and you would be lying if you said you didn't have the slightest crush on him, but he would think you were crazy if he ever found out you had the craziest dream about him, in which you both had to survive in an apocalyptic world while being a couple 🥴

____

[witheredoffherwitch]

Not here to start anything but did you not reach out to the person who was the victim of racism here to see her opinion on it? Because she's been quite vocal and clear that things with Em are patched.

Hi nonnie,

I am taking your ask because this ABSOLUTELY needs to be addressed. Your question is a prime example of why I made that post in the first place. So many of you are completely missing the point: this is not just about "fanfic drama" between two people anymore. The main post that detailed all the leaked text messages is WILD to me, because while they revealed some nasty mean girl behaviour from some, it also showed a blatant display of participation and encouragement in bullying, harassment, and racism from everyone involved. And yet, the most disturbing part is the reaction from your community. It's beyond baffling atp!

To answer your question in a nutshell, I joined this fandom after all that drama went down. When those texts came out, I was honestly confused and had to reach out to my own desi community to figure out what was going on. Turns out at the time, Shruie mentioned getting racist attacks but Bel had everyone convinced she was lying - and since Shruie was a considerably smaller blog, she was ostracized and her concerns were brushed off as mere ploy to get attention and sympathy. And now, with the recent revelation of Bel's use of rat emojis, do you see why that part is crucial here? Can you grasp why even the slightest knowledge of Bel's despicable behaviour is significant here? And, do you comprehend how the lack of condemnation only perpetuates a culture of racist hatred towards this person of colour? It's time to confront and acknowledge these issues head-on.

This drama happened back in July of LAST YEAR (?) and now it's being leaked? And you expect us to just forgive and forget because they made up with one person involved? Sorry, I'm not buying it. They only reached out to the victim because they had a falling out with the main perpetrator. If they truly take responsibility for their actions, then GOOD! But excuse me for being wary of this community who will coddle these grown ass women to tell them repeatedly how they are an “integral part of this fandom” or how they “meant well” while making these mistakes over and over again.

Some of us don't see this as just a petty fanfic squabble anymore. And if you still don't see it, then I don't expect you ever will. Your biases blind you - and frankly, I no longer have any interest in trying to make you see. This ain't my first rodeo with people who want to jump on the anti-racism train but are actually part of the problem. My post was meant to call out the toxic behavior that has gone unchecked for too long. Grace, @the-heartlines said it perfectly, so I'm linking her post here for those who need it spelled out more eloquently. This isn't about the fanfic community - because let's be real, I'm not even a part of it. You're all too focused on maintaining your little popularity contests and chasing upvotes to see how your own biases affect your actions. My words are for the rest of the fandom, who can see through the facade and finally speak out against this BS.

[inconveniently-discorporated]

I saw the Barbie movie.

One thing I did not expect was to have Feelings about what it is like to be a neurodivergent woman.

This wasn't even really addressed in the movie directly at all (aside I guess from having "weird Barbie" who lives separately from everyone else and takes in the "broken Barbies", and all of the super-positive and "uplifting" Barbies who were supportive of each other were OPENLY rejecting her because of things that were beyond her control and didn't even make her harmful to their society, just not entirely Like Them...)(okay I guess I lied, I guess they did address it and it didn't really click for me until now). (I'm still leaving that sentence in because I'm so shocked at how the point of this post is how minimized I have felt as a woman, TO THE POINT I APPEAR TO HAVE MINIMIZED THE WOMAN I CAN ENTIRELY EMPATHIZE WITH.)

Anyway. It was made EXTREMELY clear by my peers from literally day one that I was Different. I mean, I'd had one-off interactions with kids before kindergarten, but going to school was the first time I was seeing the same group of children every day.

I remember being utterly baffled. Many kids seemed to understand what to do already. Most kids were friends with someone by the end of the first day. One of my most vivid memories was from the first day almost 30 years ago, when I turned to one of the girls -- her name was Sofia, she had waist-length black hair, and her name card was a laminated piece of letter practice paper. I asked her, "How does everyone know this already?"

Her answer was that she went to preschool, and for the longest time I thought that was it. I thought that was the only reason why I didn't Get It, and never Got It from then until I graduated and from then until after I got and quit my first job and moved onto my second job (where there happens to be A LOT of neurodivergent people and I seem to get it a lot better now). It didn't occur to me that there were other kids who admittedly didn't go to preschool, who didn't have the same problem as me, and other kids who did go to preschool (because believe me, I was asking) who DID have the same problem as me (and looking back I remember at least one point where the teacher had to address the class about bullying people who were "different").

Moving from childhood into adolescence, it was made EXCEEDINGLY clear to me that I wasn't simply a Different Person, but moreso a Different Woman. It was made apparent that I was NOT an object of desire, and I did NOT deserve to think of myself as such in any way, shape, or form.

I didn't simply ignore makeup because it was expensive, and a little confusing, and somewhat of a sensory difficulty. I ignored it because I didn't think it was for me. I wasn't allowed to be one of those girls. I didn't only ignore fashion because clothes shopping was overwhelming and I couldn't spend that kind of energy in the morning putting together an outfit (not that I had a cohesive closet anyway). I ignored it because of the giggles I heard behind my back when I DID try to camouflage as A Normal Girl, because of the comments like, "Look at her wearing that belt like she thinks she's cute."

It affected me so much that I frankly didn't see myself as a "real woman" until I was in my (LATE) twenties. It's not that I didn't want to be a woman, it's that I didn't think I was allowed to feel like one. I was absolutely convinced that my husband would someday discover this "secret" about me -- that I wasn't a "real woman" -- and leave me. I literally thought he was lying to me about being attracted to me.

This did eventually change with work on my self-esteem, but one of the results is something that still persists to this day -- I feel simultaneously constrained by the societal views of women, while being almost entirely unable to relate. I went into that movie and left, today, realizing that I STILL feel like I'm Not Allowed to feel like I have some of these problems.

I've never been cat-called (though I have been screamed at by people on the street for not being desirable enough of a woman in public). But I HAVE been dismissed as an overdramatic woman by medical professionals, when my husband wouldn't get the same treatment. I've never been harassed for my number, but I HAVE had men harass and belittle me at the mechanic for saying "no" to them, who then promptly stopped the moment my husband walked into the shop and came up beside me. I've never been told I'm too pretty to be smart, but I HAVE had men refuse to talk to me and seek out my less-experienced male coworkers for answers instead.

So I drove away realizing that this dichotomy still exists for me. I couldn't relate to Barbie crying because she didn't feel pretty enough, because I've never felt like that pressure actually applied to me -- it was just always made apparent by my childhood peers that I wasn't, and didn't deserve to even worry about whether I was attractive enough. And I realized that these other pressures were the same way -- I didn't feel the pressure to be the perfect leader, because of course I couldn't be that. I didn't feel the pressure to fit in perfectly, because of course I just already couldn't.

I want to do extraordinary things, not because people expect that of me as a woman, but because people think I CAN'T as someone who is Different and Not Like Them. People are SHOCKED when I eventually adapt to a social situation (like a new job), and show that I can contribute at the same level as other people once I learn what I'm doing.

Kind of like how the Kens didn't even bother with Weird Barbie, she was just forgotten in her weird house, and she ended up being the one to help them all. And then at the end, when the Barbies realize what they've done to her, they apologize and she just sort of goes, "Eh, that's how it is."

I don't know. It's just a very weird place to be. And it can all probably be summed up by the fact that I didn't even register her experience as something I could entirely relate to, until I went to write this post about the experience that I entirely relate to.

[auncyen]

act 5 au

today's writing progress which. may very well require changes lol

-

"I still have some questions," Odile says, and you bite back a sigh because of course she does. "You've been looping in time. What was this afternoon about? Why not just tell us then? What was the point of showing me the familytale today? You could have shown me when the loop was over."

"Because it makes you happy, and then you learn a useful skill." You hate the answer as soon as it leaves your mouth. You don't want to lie, but maybe that's too honest. Just tell them you're manipulative, why don't you?

Well, you are. That's why you showed her the familytale.

"Oh, huh." Isabeau sounds pensive. "Yeah, I've heard emotional clarity is good for figuring out new techniques. …You were trying to teach Bonnie something, too, weren't you? Though, putting yourself in danger really isn't a good way to do it, Sif. That was, uh, about the worst thing you could have done with them."

You roll your eye. "It always worked before. I wasn't in any real danger." The worst case scenario was that you'd need to loop, and it'd be really pathetic if such a weak Sadness caused that.

"Thaaaat's not how it sounded." Isabeau leans against the sink, folding his arms. "…You were trying to do that with all of us, weren't you? We were supposed to go stargazing? And, uh…" He looks over at Mirabelle, who huffs, seeming to have calmed down from her tears enough to manage indignation.

"I don't know how I would get any kind of 'emotional clarity' from that--"

"I said it wrong! I meant--"

"No, no! I want to figure it out myself," Mirabelle insists, puffing her cheeks out at you, so--fine. She doesn't need to know that skill anyway, her regular shield will do just fine--

You still haven't reminded her about the CARROT method. Stars. "Okay, but you do need to learn how to make a shield. So, remember the CARROT method, and figure it out."

Everyone looks baffled by various degrees, but that's fine. Mirabelle always looks confused when you hint it to her at the start of a loop anyway. "You know about the CARROT method?" Isabeau asks.

"No, I just know that she knows the CARROT method, and it helps her figure out how to make shields."

"What happens if I don't figure it out?" Mirabelle asks.

"King kills us."

…Oh, that was definitely a too-honest answer. Mirabelle's eyes go round as saucers as one hand flies to her mouth, and even Odile looks alarmed next to her. "…Sif," Isabeau says slowly. "The way you said that…have we actually died?"

You look aside. "He finishes me off first and then I loop back, so, I don't think so?" Not as long as there's only one timeline getting reset, which you have to believe. You can't stomach the situations you've left the others in if they stayed after you were gone. "But it doesn't look good."

"You've died." Isabeau doesn't seem to take any relief from the clarification.

"And then I loop back, and I'm fine!" You sweep your hand in front of yourself, from the brim of your hat to just below your hips, and smile at him. "See?"

His eyebrows stay hovering far above where they normally would rest. You keep smiling at him, fighting not to bare your teeth.

"Sif--"

"Stars, Isa, am I bleeding?" you snap. Why can't he just believe you? "Do you see some gaping wound I've missed? Looping resets everything! I'm not hurt! I'm fine!" You turn to Odile. "Why would I tell everyone I'm looping through time when people are going to get hung up on stupid things like this?"

Odile looks so disappointed with you. "Do you really think you're fine, Siffrin?"

[juliettedunn]

Amity Hasn’t Lost Her Personality

Amity didn't lose her personality after Season 1; she found it. I am genuinely baffled by people who seem to think she has become flat or just "the love interest."  

When people say they "miss Season 1 Amity," it's strange to me, because the Amity we see in Season 1A isn't the real Amity. It's a mask personality she constructed after being forced to by Odalia.

All that ambition and aggressive competitiveness was something that ODALIA wanted. Amity dropped it so fast, almost immediately after Episode 7, because it's not her  true nature. Like it or not, Amity's real personality includes her being a nerdy, awkward teenage girl. Thanks to Them shows her at some of her freest moments, and what is she doing while being so happy? She's trying out fashion, falling flat on her face, watching silly movies with her friends, doing "cringey" couples costumes with her girlfriend...all very typical interests of a girl in her demographic.

Yes, she's an abomination prodigy and she is epic in fight scenes, but other than that, she's really not all that "special." And that's good!

Amity WANTS to be a basic teen. All of her happiest moments are in the silly, quiet things. Volunteering at the library, reading to kids, doing cheesy tunnel of love rides...these things are what make her most joyful.

And yeah, she's obsessed with Luz. EVERY teenager is obsessed with their significant other when they first get in a relationship. It's not a writing issue; it's a very realistic depiction of what someone would do in her situation, especially given Luz is someone who gives her unconditional love and actively enjoys her dorkiness, something she hasn't had since being friends with Willow.

We expect this larger than life character, someone who is always cool and competent, an edgy badass. Sometimes she is that way, but she’s not all the time. Why do we want her to always be like that, or even worse, to be the mean girl persona her entire arc was about escaping from?

 I for one absolutely adore Amity in Thanks to Them, I would go as far as to say Thanks to Them shows Amity at her best. One of the things TOH does so well is capture the awkwardness of teenagers; even when they are facing world-ending issues they're still  dorks and they make weird faces in photos. 

There is nothing wrong with being an average dumbass teen. It's really all Amity's ever wanted, a life free from expectations and ambition. She doesn't want to be a prodigy, she wants to be a kid. And in Thanks to Them, she gets to be a kid. So yeah, she doesn't "do" much, but she’s happy.

We as a society are so afraid of being cringe, and it's stifling us. People worship the cynical, edgy antihero characters.

The world is depressing, and so people turn to cynicism as a survival mechanism, but that's not what makes life worth living. Deep down, EVERYONE is cringey and dumb, and if we didn't spend so much energy trying to be exceptional and cool, we'd be a lot happier. With Amity, here is a person who has finally found the freedom to be as cringe as they want. 

She has no worries about overwhelming expectations from her parents, or hierarchy battles with her peers to compete for social status. She’s 15 years old, and she’s free to embrace her happy, clumsy nerd side. In Thanks to Them, for the very first time, Amity is truly free. And if that means she's "boring" now, well so be it.

[mari-lair]

your posts about this newest chapter are so real because it disappointed me so much.

It was way too lighthearted and just seemed like a huge joke. I was expecting the trial to have suspense where you can really feel for the characters and wonder what will happen next, but it just ended up being comedic. It was funny, I’ll give it that, but I really really wanted some angst.

This may just be me, but Teru felt so out of canon to me. I can understand him putting on that “flawless student council” mask but it feels odd considering he is around mostly supernaturals. He is shown to be very intelligent and considering he is an exorcist and they are school mysteries why tf would that “look at how beautiful I am I could never” argument work. It was funny, sure, but just seemed out of canon for him.

Akane felt a little out of canon too to me? Probably not but he seemed to fully accept his role as a judge with little to no guilt at all. We don’t really get him looking guiltily at Teru or feeling frustrated, he’s just kind of there. Probably because (as always) the story focused on Hanako, Yashiro, and Tsukasa.

NOW UGHH TSUKASA IS SO FAVORITED ITS PAINFUL. You’re telling me after all that suspense around the clock keepers he takes them out in TWO PANELS. The clock keepers seem like a fucking joke in this chapter instead of the powerful mysterious beings they have shown to be previously.

Overall I expected something much more satisfying and I hope next chapter will be a little better because the last chapter got me so excited for nothing.

just my opinion though, I know some people enjoyed this chapter and that’s totally ok! just not my personal favorite

That's a mood ya-rr-ow. Big mood.

Many people enjoyed the chapter, and I'm happy for them, but I was also majorly disappointed so I'll talk about what you mentioned here and add some other things.

(I will just focus on the negatives here so if you're feeling hyped about the chapter. I am sorry, I wouldn't recommend reading this)

Okay let's go

Chapter 108 went out of its way to create a tense atmosphere, it was mostly a set up and hype piece for the trial.

Mirai was a beast, but Akane was the one that really set up the tone. He had the power to make Teru harmless, which only hyped up the other clock keepers since he is the lowest ranking keeper. Mirai and Kako's supposed power was said to be dangerous enough to make Akane, who hates supernaturals and is so firm in his beliefs, feel cornered, switch sides to 'do his duties', his vague words hinting that there is more to this trial than it seems on the surface.

So I don't think we were being delusional to expect this trial to be dramatic. To have angst. Or at least, character dept. To be important.

But despite the trial being the title, the spotlight, we got none of it: Not only is the trial treated as a joke, which I already don't vibe with considering how tense the atmosphere in chapter 108 is. It is an empty joke.

It doesn't teach us anything about the characters, it doesn't give any new information. Nothing.

Hanako's trial was a gag. He isn't even my priority character, but considering how he have the title of 'leader of the mysteries' and had been put on trial before for the Yorishiro's destruction, it is a baffling choice to make Kako not mention this big BIG crime when judging him.

Nene's trial 'revealed' she likes Hanako and want to confess to him. Which she has been doing this whole manga.

We could talk about her time crimes (every time travel that made her meet Amane), try to bargain her lifespan since this is the main conflict in the story and they are talking to the keepers of time. They could talk about her crime of helping to destroy the yorishiros with Hanako, or just acknowledge she is still a threat since she is the Kannagi, the only one capable of ripping their yorishiro in the first place. But no, those are stupid, let's spend 4 full pages of a monthly manga to tease a confession she already did in the very previous chapter.

Teru revealed he has some craving for destruction on him. Which surprise, surprise! It also isn't new information! How nice!

( I talked about his love for the idea of destruction and how it's almost an escapism recently, here you go if you're curious)

About Teru and Akane's acting weird. That's not them being ooc, that's Aidairo making a narrative choice to not take anything serious, including his own characters. Everyone is acting like themselves, and nothing contradicts what has been established about their personalities, but their competence has been drastically downgraded to move the plot quickly.

Teru has the bad habit of becoming pathetic when he has strong feelings, like locking himself in his room and hiding under the covers after his fight with Kou, immediately hitting Akane's stab wound when he is too late to rescue aoi cause the situation stressed him. So it is in character that he wants to kill Akane, who has always been his stress relief.

However, because Teru takes things so personally, and it was stablished in chapter 108 that Teru is way more bothered by Akane's betrayal than being in a court of law, it makes no sense that he treat it as a normal court instead of using his very obvious alibi that he couldn't destroy the clock because he was with Akane. Teru doesn't turn this court into the confrontation that would bring attention to their split up, doesn't go "Are you doing to deny my alibi now?? betray me again??" or question "So? We are here! Why did it had to be now??" or anything that builds up on the last chapter to expand it.

Cause Aidairo decided the court doesn't matter. The build up doesn't matter. Once more, the consequences are an afterthought. We don't need the answers to anything.

Akane is still guilty, he can't look at Teru in the eye, can't defend him, but he goes "!!!" when Teru finally calls for him, paying full attention.

But this is comedic. And as i mentioned above, Teru doesn't say anything useful, anything with more depth than what we already know: that he is angry by Akane's betrayal and hasn't forgiven him.

We TRULY are given nothing in this trial.

Which is insane, cause even the promo art had details to build intrigue, a vague idea that while the chapter would be comedic in nature, it would explain more about the clock keepers, or at least expand on their boundaries.

Like, what are those numbers on the scale? will they be judged by year? Will a lie make their time be stolen? oooh what could it be! Can't wait for the chapter!

And the chapter comes, and there is nothing. The whole trial feels like filler. They treated the audience as a fool for being excited.

That's why this big twist at the end? I don't care.

As you said Tsukasa is overpowered, they are Aidairo's golden child. And they will break established lore rules and make a joke out of everyone else just cause he can.

It's not just Teru and Akane who were nerfed to make the plot move faster, not allowed to have any proper focus. The clock keepers were also a joke, acting 'in character' but more incompetent than they have been stablished to be.

Tsukasa op moment doesn't make me go "wow he is so cool" it made me look at the clock keepers and go "You are all are stupid"

Cause Tsukasa has the judgment seal?? And he was already sentenced as guilty??? There are three clock keepers in the room too? So why not... you know... restrict him again...?

The clock keepers is a school rumor that was introduced all the way back in chapter 23. Like you said they are supposed to be super op! They are a mystery so hyped up that just Mirai's power (who isn't the strongest keeper) can throw the intire school into chaos in the Near Shore, where supernaturals are debuffed.

Even before Tsukasa attacked he made the clock keepers act incompetent, to make him look more mysterious and cool in comparison.

These very old and supposedly op school mysteries know Yugi Amane is Hanako, but they don't know who Amane's twin brother 'Tsukasa' is, they also don't refer to him as a yorishiro despite the seal being in his face, and use titles for every other character (Leader of the school mysteries. Kannagi. Student Body Representative)

Which might look like a small thing, silly nitpick, but it shows the favoritism isn't just for a twist. Aidairo naturally likes Tsukasa more than his own narrative, and is willing to make others be less competent for the sake of it.

I don't think Kako will die. That would objectively be bad writing at this point. He'll probably be back in the next chap, a la "teru got fucked up by No.6" and "Akane got stabbed by Aoi but he lives bitch" or even "i always had a ton of clones, like Mei of the art room" but it is still disappointing to see him and Mirai get fucked up in their own boundary after all the hype they have accumulated through the story.

There is a hint Akane can be a yorishiro at the end of the chapter, and that is cool, genuinely really cool, but I am tired of getting excited over possibilities and 'promises for the future'. I want something concrete.

Speaking of which, I don't think Akane will die. This is just another bait to keep reading like when No.6 slashed Teru, Kou, and Akane and we didn't get any answers for a few months before 'oh well nothing happened :) no consequences to be had here folks!'

"But Tsukasa has always killed everyone that he pulled the heart of! there is Mitsuba, and The puffer fish of the mermaid, and the previous No.3 (the bird)" And to that I say I trust Akane's ability to say fuck to fate.

My boy gets new death flags every year, he collects them like pokemon cards, you all should have gotten used to it.

He also survived his bae stabbing him, this isn't new. Sucks to be Tsukasa and die by a stab in the gut and all but Akane is built differently (quite literally with two bodies).

He is also in his own boundary, so if Aoi doesn't kill him while in the territory of another mystery, but he dies in No.1's boundary I will... idk probably just sigh.

In short, Aidairo treated this as joke, so I will treat their cliffhanger as one too. Give me reasons to care in chapter 110. Cause at the moment? I don't.

[cxsmicbaby]

little bit - 2

CHAPTER TWO OF A SERIES 

chapter 01

pairing : miguel o’hara x fem!reader

warnings : mild description of blood/injury; cursing throughout. enjoy :) dm if you wanna be added to the taglist! 

word count : 3.5k

miguel gets hurt during a mission. he doesn’t want your help, but you give it anyway. things get a little bit heated. 

                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

If I had it my way, I would never go home. It all just feels so stale, and boring. After getting a taste of something like the Spider Society, it’s difficult to return to a place where half the city hates you. 

Truly, that’s not even why I don’t like coming back. I mean, that’s apart of it, but there’s a far more real, physical problem that makes me dread walking through the portal today; the man waiting for me on the other side. 

Strange is not a bad guy. Sure, he’s got his quirks, but at his core he is just as determined to help people as I am. It’s just that he’s become a bit insufferable since I joined Miguel and the others; insufferable, like I cannot stand to be around him for longer than 10 minutes before feeling like I’m going to implode. But I can’t spend time on my Earth without reporting back to him, because if I don’t do it myself he’ll just find me, anyhow. 

“Look who decided to show up.” I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my tongue, feeling irritation already brewing in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face the doctor. He’s wearing a grey robe—a normal one, not a magic one—pajama pants, and slippers. It’s 3pm. 

“Can you get off my case, just this once? I had to deal with something.” I certainly did. Hobie and I spent the entire morning and early afternoon scrubbing away at the damage we did on Monday, despite objections from the other spiders. I was right, everyone thinks the lobby is too sterile. But of course, Miguel knows best. 

“Something? Is that something tall and annoying?” 

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself, Strange. You’re not that tall.” 

He stares at me like he’s going to start laughing, and then he just sighs, walking past me. “Come on, let’s get this over with. I have something to do later.” 

“Something? Is that something... a lady?” 

The doctor scoffs, waving his hand to tell me how stupid he thinks I sound. To be fair, that wasn’t as good as his, but I couldn’t think of anything else. But he doesn’t say no, so I assume that this is his way of letting me know he’s going on a date later. Even though Strange and I have our differences, we’ve known each other for long enough that I can be happy for something like that—his last date was more than a year ago, and it ended with a slap and a suit soaked in red wine, so I can only hope this one goes better. 

“You’ve been gone for longer this time,” he says, as we enter his study. For a man that claims to be so uninterested in material goods, he seems to have spared no expense in the decor of his living space. Sure, the sanctum was already pretty lavish, but I know for a fact that some of the shiny objects I’m currently looking at were not in here last time. 

“It’s fine. It’s different for the others ‘cause a lot of them don’t have other heroes, but we’ve got the Avengers! The city doesn’t really need me that much,” I counter, taking a seat in one of the plush burgundy chairs. The cushion sinks a little under my weight, just enough to be comfortable. I need to invest in some better furniture for my apartment, because this is the best chair I’ve ever sat in. 

Strange shakes his head, and takes a seat by his desk across from me. “It’s not about that. People are noticing that you’re gone, you know. And not just civilians.” 

My eyebrows raise. “That’s ominous. Who’re we talking about here?” 

“Tony, for one. God, that guy is irritating. I’m starting to wonder whether I should just tell him, so he stops calling.” 

It takes all my willpower not to remind him just how similar he is to Stark, but to be fair, Tony annoys me more than Strange ever has. It baffles me how some of the other spiders actually work with that guy. Maybe he’s cooler in their universes. 

“Just tell them I’m on vacation or something. That’s normal, right? Even heroes take vacations,” I suddenly feel like I can’t sit anymore, so I stand and start to fiddle with the things on his desk. A heavy blue sphere that looks like crystal catches my eye, and I pick it up without asking, turning it around in my hands. I can see my own reflection. 

“Yeah, but not without saying anything. And put that down. It’s my paperweight.” 

I look up at him to see he’s being entirely serious, and I regretfully do as he says. What an extravagant paper weight. 

“So, what am I supposed to do? Get on Jimmy Fallon and announce my temporary retirement?” 

Strange takes the paperweight from the place I’ve left it and starts turning it around in his hands. Asshole. “Just don’t spend as much time there as you do. You need to balance it, or else this isn’t gonna work.” 

It sounds like he’s trying to tell me what to do. That’s an issue of his; always trying to be in charge of everyone and everything around him. I used to fall in line with that, but I have two control freaks in my life now and the newest one doesn’t really leave room for anyone else. 

“Listen, Doc, everything’s gonna be fine. If Stark gets too nosy, I’ll just come back and make something up. You have more important things to worry about than where I am, and I have more important things to worry about than you,” I fire back, narrowing my eyes slightly as I watch for his reaction. He doesn’t seem fazed by my defiance; he’s more amused. Doesn’t matter—it’s time to get out of here and get what I really came back for anyhow. (Boba. The Spider Society has every drink imaginable in the cafeteria except boba.)

“Alright. You do what you want, but just be careful. You’re messing with things beyond your understanding, you know. Even beyond mine.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” 

Before he can launch into a rant about how this is very much not a ‘whatever’ situation, my watch vibrates. I think that it’s probably my empanada alarm—I set one so I can bring Miguel food everyday at the same time, because I noticed that if I bring it after or before he gets too busy to eat it. But it’s not. It’s from Jessica, and she only calls when there’s something serious going on. I almost feel guilty for thinking that this is the perfect escape from this tedious conversation. 

“See ya, Strange. Duty calls.” 

And just like that, I’m gone, barreling through a wormhole on my way back to my new home. I think it’s pretty much gotten to that point, anyhow. I’ve probably slept in my apartment on Earth-72 like 3 times since I joined up.

When I step out, I’m greeted by more chaos than usual, which is saying something. The room is filled with panicked shouts and spider-people running in every direction; including up and down. Hobie is nowhere to be found, and neither is Miguel, or Jessica. A chill runs down my spine. Something is wrong. 

I see Ben talking frantically to someone else and I rush over, beginning to panic a bit myself. “Ben, what happened? Is everyone okay?” 

He grimaces. “Miguel, Hobie, and Jessica went to take care of an anomaly. It turned out to be worse than they thought it’d be, and we sent back up, but nobody’s come back yet. They’re all dead, man. They’re all gone...” When he trails off, his eyes unfocus and his eyebrows furrow, obviously getting lost in his melodramatic bullshit once again. 

My heart is steadily climbing up my throat. For the first time, I find myself unable to sit through this with him, because for the first time, it’s actually scaring me. “Shut up and tell me where they went.” 

He doesn’t even time to come up with something dumb to say before the room is suddenly lit up in oranges and pinks, swirling for just a moment before they collapse in on themselves, and out come just the people I was panicked for. First comes Hobie, and despite a slight limp he seems just fine. Then Jessica, with no physical wounds, but a look on her face that tells me the worst is yet to come. 

And then Miguel pours out, almost collapsing onto the floor before he clutches his stomach, forcing himself to stay upright. I can see a dark patch of what I assume to be blood on his right ribcage, and though his mask is on I can tell his face is twisted in pain. My hands almost reach out, as if I could grab him from my distance, but I settle instead for an expression that must look like I just witnessed yet another tragic family death. 

“What the hell happened?” I say, quickly walking over to the three. Spiders that must’ve been sent as backup exit the portal quickly after, all groaning and sporting some sort of injury. Jessica’s eyes go hard and she pins me down. 

“You should’ve been here. We needed you,” she scolds. Every time she talks to me this way I always feel like a little kid, despite our ages not being too far apart. Guilt chews away at me the longer I stand there, trying not to turn my attention to Miguel and the way he’s trying to hide how badly he’s hurt. 

“Give her a rest, she’s been workin’ hard. We got it done, didn’t we?” Hobie chimes in, his voice slightly strained. I wonder just how badly this fight went for everyone to have gotten hurt; the need for any backup at all is startling, seeing as usually it only takes one of us to finish an anomaly off. 

“With a lot more collateral damage than there needed to be. Someone take Miguel to the infirmary, he’s banged up bad.” 

I turn to him, but he’s already started stalking off. 

“I’m fine,” he calls, but I can hear the weakness in his voice; it’s lacking that dominance, that certain tone of his that makes you want to obey every word he says. So I follow behind him. 

“Miguel, let me help. I promise I’ll be gentle.” 

“No.” It comes out as more of a whimper, which I’m sure was not his intent. I swallow at the way my stomach flutters and continue to walk by his side, unsure of where he thinks he’s going. There’s no way he’s going back to work like this. For god’s sake, he still has his mask on, so he must not really be going anywhere. He’s just trying to get away so he can wallow in his suffering and refuse all help. I won’t let him, not today. If I can stand up to Strange, I can stand up to him. 

I move so that I’m blocking his path, and cross my arms in front of my chest, hoping to hide my heavy, nervous breathing. 

“I’m not asking, I’m telling. You need medical attention, but if you won’t let a professional help you, I’m going to.” 

Miguel studies me. I can tell he is, even though he still has his mask on. His eyes narrow and his posture slumps just the slightest bit, like he’s given up. For just a moment, a thick tension hangs in the air, pressing hard on my chest, but then Miguel inhales deeply and breaks the spell. He doesn’t say a word; he only nods, and pushes past me. This is professional. This is me helping a friend. Me helping my boss. So I should treat it as such. Right?

                                                     𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

Miguel wishes he let himself bleed out. 

That would be preferable to the situation he has put himself in instead, he thinks, as he watches your face. He’s seated on a chair in his room, his suit peeled down to his feet so you can have access to all his cuts and bruises. He has imagined himself like this with you so many times; you nestled between his thighs, your fingers dancing across his abdomen as you carefully sew his gash shut. In his mind, it’s always led to more sinful activities, and those images are playing on a loop behind his eyes as he watches you. He swallows hard. He remembers a few nights ago when he let himself get off to the thought of you, and he almost recoils from your touch. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask, glancing up at him with so soft a gaze he feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle at your feet. 

“No.” Miguel figures that speaking plainly will aid him through this, because if he lets you hear but a tremble in his voice he’s sure you’ll know. 

You’ll know that his heavy, labored breaths are not because of pain or exhaustion, and that his grip on the arm of the chair is not to brace for each movement of the needle. You’ll know that he’s thinking about how pretty you look on your knees. You’ll know that he wants nothing more than to grab you by the shoulders and kiss you, hard, to slip his tongue into your parted mouth and squeeze all the softest parts of you. 

“Ok,” you say, smiling. “Tell me if it does. I can be gentler.” 

He’s not sure you can. 

It’s torturous, how slow you’re going. You don’t want him to feel pain at your hands, the idea of which pokes worryingly at his heart, but Miguel thinks if he sits here with you for any longer he’s going to lose his mind. 

“Did you guys, uh...” you trail off, some semblance of guilt clouding your pretty face. “Did you guys actually need me?” 

Oh. You’re ashamed that you weren’t there. Miguel will not tell you this, but he’s glad you weren’t there. If you got hurt like he did he would have ripped the anomaly apart with his bare hands. And that would be a little hard to play off as just normal boss duties. 

“No,” he starts, and you brighten up for a moment before your expression sinks once more. He didn’t mean it like that. “If you were there you would’ve just gotten hurt like the rest. You would’ve gotten in the way.” 

Why, oh why, did he say that? It’s not even true. From an objective standpoint, you being there would have helped them immensely. Even Miguel acknowledges that you are one of the most talented spider-people he has recruited—though, the only person he acknowledges it to is himself. 

“Oh,” you say, your voice soft and quiet. The sound makes his chest ache. 

Miguel wants to say something more, but he stops himself. 

You sew him up in silence, which he thought would help, but now he can only focus on your breaths that fan over his bare skin, and your tongue that is poking against the corner of your lips as you concentrate. He feels his cock ache just the slightest bit and his eyes go wide, realizing that the worst possible thing that could happen right now is very, very close to happening. This needs to be over, now. 

“That’s enough.” Miguel tries not to sound panicked, but he’s sure some of it slips through the cracks. You pause and look up at him with confusion. 

“I’m almost finished. Just sit tight, it’ll be over soon.” 

You move to continue, and in his fear he pushes your hands away. “Don’t. I told you, I don’t want your fucking help.” 

He can see you’re hurt by that. God, what a fucking mess this is. The last thing he ever wants is to hurt you but it seems in order to keep himself from you, that’s what he has to do. The day you find out about the perverted, disgusting ways he thinks of you is the day he will disappear forever. He would sacrifice anything to keep that from happening. 

“I don’t understand. Why do you hate me so much? God, why do you hate everyone? All we ever do is try to help you.” You back away from him, still on your knees, and your hands fall frustratedly to your sides. Miguel is surprised by this reaction, because he’s so used to you letting everything he says slide right off your back. But he’s gone too far now, he can see that. Your eyes are shiny and your forehead creased in defeat. 

He can’t say anything, because if he does words will come out that he needs to stay hidden. So Miguel just watches you with eyes he’s sure are hard and cold, and he sees your face fall even further, your tongue poking at the inside of your cheek as a bitter laugh escapes you. 

“Fine. Do it yourself.”

You toss the needle onto the table with the rest of the supplies and stand, moving to leave. And this is what Miguel wants, right? He wants you gone. But he betrays himself, because before you can even reach the door, he finds words bubbling in his throat and he’s unable to stop them. 

“Wait. Don’t... you can stay.” It doesn’t even sound like his voice. He sounds weak, weathered by a raging storm that refuses to let up. You pause, but you don’t turn, crossing your arms in front of you as you sway from side to side. And Miguel’s body is aching to reach for you, to tell you the truth. That he is so infuriatingly infatuated with you that the very idea of you leaving makes him twitch. 

“I’m...” it feels like his throat is constricting, trying not to let the words out. “I’m sorry. That was... unnecessary.” 

You still don’t move, and Miguel’s sure you’re going to leave anyway. But then you do turn, and the smile on your face is so wide that he panics for a second that he’s said something more exciting than what he really has. 

“It was mean. But, I accept your apology. Thank you, Miguel.” You’ve said his name hundreds of times before, but this time he feels a surge of something strange in his chest; but not like before, in the shower, or when you were between his thighs, staring up at him. Something stronger than that. Something scarier. 

He swallows hard. “You can, uh. You can finish up now.” 

You’re between his thighs again. One of your hands is flat against his stomach, keeping the skin taut, the other sewing away, your elbow resting on his thigh. His chest is heaving again. But he’ll fight it, if it means you’ll smile. You’re still smiling. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask, glancing up at him again. 

Miguel sighs sharply. “A little bit.” You smile a little harder. 

“Sorry. I’ll be gentler.” 

Again, he’s not sure you could. 

                                                     𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

CHAPTER THREE

[souridealist]

the thing about “oh, likes are useless, they don’t do anything” is -- yes, they do? They tell you that someone saw the thing you posted and wished to convey to you their enjoyment or approval. Why is that valueless to you? “Well but likes don’t boost visibility and reblogging does” but visibility is just... people seeing your work and possibly enjoying it. If someone reblogs the post, other people may see it and like it -- but likes are useless! it doesn’t matter if those people enjoyed it, unless they reblog it so their followers can see it, but those followers’ pleasure is also useless and they need to pass it on and where does it end? Is there some minimum number of degrees of separation before it starts to matter that someone liked a thing you made? Is the purpose just to be passed on and passed on and passed on with no end in sight? What are we after here?

This is particularly baffling to me when it’s like, “oh kids are coming from Twitter and TikTok and only liking posts and it’s going to RUIN THE SITE and Tumblr will become EMPTY OF CONTENT” -- okay but. why. you’re still getting more attention and notes -- more people are letting you know that they enjoyed your work -- than if these people didn’t make blogs at all and nothing changed. you’re coming out ahead. why are we comparing everything to what you MIGHT have gotten if people were The Ideal Consumer instead of the actual people they are? why is every reality measured against the theoretical maximum? are you really going to stop drawing or writing or photographing or composing or playing music because the response to it increased but not as much as it might have?

Like. I do get it. It’s discouraging to work on something and get crickets chirping in response! It really is! You want people to like what you make! And I’ve been lucky enough to have a few things that I worked hard on happen to catch a zeitgeist and get a lot of attention by my standards, but by some people’s standards those are still chump change. I’ve also had stories - since then - get a bare pittance of attention, by my standards. And by some people’s standards my pittance is a wealth. And the thing is that that experience really confirmed two things for me - which, admittedly, I’d known intellectually before then but hadn’t really believed in the same way, but they’re still true -

1) it really is about being the right thing in the right place at the right time, as much as luck

2) there is no number of kudos or reblogs or notes or comments or bookmarks or anything that will earn you a Real Adult Good Competent Artist Card that makes you stop feeling insecure. There isn’t. That insecure fearful hollow inside of you is not something you can fill with achievement or attention or praise; it will open up again and again, because the next one might not be as good, because it might be too different, because it might not be different enough, because making art is taking a piece of yourself out of you and putting it into the world for people to see and that’s a fundamentally terrifying leap of faith. You can pour thousands and thousands and thousands of notes or hits or likes or kudos into that hollow and it will just keep draining again and again. The only solution I’ve ever found, the only solution that I’ve ever heard of anyone finding, is a mixture of faith and of learning to work through the fear.

And yeah, no amount of confidence or faith is going to make it stop being a bummer when something flops. It feels bad! You put all that work into something and you want it to be appreciated; you want it to matter! All of that makes sense! But it’s really not going to help you to castigate the people who like your work for not liking it The Right Way. people don’t like being told that their enjoyment is useless. and it’s certainly and emphatically not an attitude that’s going to help you have a good relationship with your work.

[wifelinkmtg]

There's "spaghetti western" and then there's whatever the hell this Chef Boyardee shit is

Hello! and welcome back to Wifelink. We're talking about Outlaws of Thunder Junction today, Magic's second product in a row set in a version of Nevada, and let me tell you something: I am not impressed. The mechanics are uninspired, the setting is undercooked, the story is overstuffed, and to top it all off the whole thing smacks of settler-colonialism. AND they yassified Vraska, the monsters!

WE WILL GET TO THE HOT WOMEN, BELIEVE YOU ME, BUT FIRST I AM GOING TO COMPLAIN SOMEWHAT, AS IS MY RIGHT AS AN AMERICAN, AS A HUMAN BEING, AND AS A GAMER

The mechanics we've discussed elsewhere, and I will skim over the main storyline except to say that very few of this Big Villain Heist Team-Up gets enough spotlight to justify their inclusion here beyond getting recognizable names on cards, and that Rakdos' presence on the plane alone ought to be an apocalyptic calamity. I appreciate Jace & Vraska going full blackpilled accelerationist, stealing a baby, and aiming to destroy the multiverse & start over (a novel hybrid of Raising Arizona and Doctor Strangelove,) but I also know, sure as the sun rises, that whatever happens with their villain arc will be a underwhelming let-down.

What I actually want to complain about, though, is the setting. Thunder Junction ain't real, and I don't mean it's fictional, I mean it's plywood facades on a backlot. It's the set for a cowboy film. You feel me? This ain't a plane, it's a god damned sound stage.

Lemme go over the facts: we know Thunder Junction has been settled for a bit over a year. A year! - and yet there's multiple towns, multiple railways, and an honest-to-god metropolis. Less than two years and we already have ghost towns! This is not the product of a bunch of people on various planes all individually deciding to seek a new life in the off-world colonies. All of this represents a staggering quantity of people, material, wealth, and labor, being moved between planes, directed and organized - but by whom? For what reason? How, even? The story is totally uninterested in these questions.

One of the few silver linings to the way the Phyrexian invasion storyline ended was that the Omenpaths had a lot of interesting potential! Different planes would come into direct contact with each other for the first time ever! Different technologies, different philosophies and religions, different kinds of magic colliding, coming into conflict, adapting and adjusting to each other. And after a couple of sets where the interplanar contact was limited to one or two particularly adventurous individuals, we finally get to see what interplanar contact at scale looks like here in Thunder Junction... and it just looks like a John Wayne flick. Did people not bring their culture with them? Is there a big rack of hats and boots and dusters right where people step off the Omenpath? Shuck off those old Ravnican rags, kid, get changed. You'll spoil the aesthetic. I mean, it's baffling.

Luxurious Locomotive (art by Leon Tukker). This is one of the few man-made parts of this plane that I can look at and know where it came from: this is a Kaladeshi design. More of this sort of thing would have made Thunder Junction feel more like a real place and less like a Sergio Leone joint.

There's a side story, No Tells, by Isaac Fellman, which I quite like actually: it's about guilt and betrayal and the inevitable regrets of having moved into a queer housing co-op, and one of the things that makes it great is that we know where Yuma came from (New Capenna), we know why he left (the limitations of "be gay do crimes" as praxis under capitalism), and we know what he brought to Thunder Junction with him (cocktails, pool tables, and his co-op's emergency funds). Fellman has written nothing else for Wizards and doesn't play Magic, and even so he's done more to make Thunder Junction feel like a real place situated in a real history than the rest of the story team combined - which goes to show, one, that we should only let trans people write magic story for the next decade or so, and two, that what I'm asking for in terms of worldbuilding is not unattainable, or even that difficult.

And all of this ties into the colonialism, right? Thunder Junction is being colonized, and asking questions about who benefits, who's sponsoring this breakneck settlement of the plane, what they're after and so forth would require the story to take a good hard look at the process of colonization itself, and Wizards is flatly unwilling to engage with anything that thorny in their products. So, just as Ixalan involved a limp-wristed slant reenactment of the Spanish conquest of the Americas - but it's fine because they're the bad guys and they're technically not even trying to colonize Ixalan and they don't win anyway so no one gets hurt! - Thunder Junction is attempting to present a Disneyland version of Western colonialism. Untamed wilderness! Bringing civilization to uninhabited deserts! How cool and heroic these hard frontiersmen and -women are! I'm told they brought in Navajo cultural consultants for the Atiin, a fantasy equivalent, and I hope those folks were well compensated! The Atiin seem cool, and the one Atiin character we spend any time with is well-written, but the Atiin are not indigenous to Thunder Junction. They're not being colonized. And if there weren't anybody being colonized, I'd probably still dislike the colonial vision of a wild land inhabited only by animals, just waiting for us to shape it to our will with railways and violence, but there is in fact a native race of sapients on Thunder Junction, and these cactus folk get no voice in the story, so if they have some kind of opinion on the rapid colonization of their home and the clear-cutting of their cactus forests, we don't get to hear about it.

Prickly Pair (art by Brian Valeza) Too much of the extremely-limited presence Thunder Junction's only indigenous sapients have on the cards is devoted to cactus-based puns like this one, which is pretty distasteful given, you know, the colonialism.

I'm talking about colonialism not because I think that replicating colonial myths in fantasy fiction is an unethical thing to do - although it is - but because you can see, right, that Thunder Junction's lack of verisimilitude is intertwined with the colonial vision of the world at play here, yeah? The story wants to have cool cowboy shootouts and train robberies and it does not want its cowboy fantasy to be complicated by uncomfortable realities, so it has to avoid all of the basic worldbuilding questions that would tell us who the colonization benefits and how they're profiting off the plane, and in the end we're left with nothing but an empty aesthetic, like a duster hanging off a scarecrow, blowing in the wind.

ANYWAY SO WOMEN

To be honest, under the circumstances I'm not really feeling like giving the fine women of Thunder Junction my usual more elaborate treatment, so we're going to lightning-round this shit, which is at least thematic.

Blood Hustler (art by Anna Pavleeva)

Vampire MILF.

Rattleback Apothecary (art by Loïc Canavaggia)

Snake MILF.

Wrangler of the Damned (art by Michal Ivan)

Cis lesbian haircut, good with a rope.

Obeka, Splitter of Seconds (art by Ryan Pancoast)

BIG

[yourlocalrandombisexual]

alright so i’ve been seeing the watcher posts and gathering my thoughts so i’m gonna put all my watcher stuff in one big post under the cut cause it’s gonna get long and i need to get this out of my head.

i will say 99% of the fandom was expecting a fun, exciting, omg can’t wait for it type of announcement and seeing the title and thumb nail for the first time made me really nervous.

also, side note, why on earth would they choose a thumbnail of the three of them sitting on a couch like that with the title “goodbye youtube”?? just the imagery alone makes you think of the try guys and their now infamous video like why would you want that comparison right out the gate before you even say anything?? super weird choice.

then the video is all nostalgic and wistful, clips of steven’s, ryan’s, and shane’s, pre-buzzfeed youtube videos and i’m thinking “did someone die cause this feels like a video obit” none of this calmed my nerves and made me more anxious about what could be coming. and then we all know what happened next, they announce that they’re paywalling everything yada yada yada

and after seeing everyone else’s takes and the general vibe of the fandom being “fuck watcher” it continues to baffle me why they thought this was gonna go over well. because to me it feels like they went from “yay we have our own youtube channel” to “give us your cash we’re a media empire” and missed A LOT of steps in between.

and i dunno maybe watcher did try to change things and tweak their business model and things weren’t getting better but as a fan and someone who watches a lot of different youtubers you kinda see this one coming. like creators drop little crumbs beforehand to gauge how people will take it or they try weird series/shows that have like 3 episodes to see what their audience is more interested in. there are a signs as a fan you can see but i think one of the reasons this went so badly for watcher is because it was so far out of left field. there was never a hint that the youtube model wasn’t working for them.

but again maybe they did try x, y, and z without it working or being transparent about it and if they were trying things why not lean into that to garner compassion from fans? we all know the youtube algorithm sucks and if they had started the video talking about the things they tried and how nothing was working and how much it sucked to leave youtube i think people would’ve understood. then they could’ve had shane talk about how subscriptions suck and there are too many of them and they tried to find another solution but couldn’t. now not only do i have sympathy for what there going through i had my feelings validated. then they could’ve gone into why this is better and what i’m going to get out of it as a consumer.

like it’s not that hard. but instead the vibe i got from them was a real palpable relief that they were leaving youtube which felt like a slap in the face.

and while i don’t agree with the steven bashing at all i do think it’s a little bit funny that they kinda dug themselves into that hole with their end of the year behind the scenes video they put out last fall. they really painted steven as a genius ceo while ryan and shane are just on screen talent. so while i feel for what steven is going through they kinda put themselves in that position.

all of this to say that it doesn’t feel like they hired anyone to field this idea by or do any kind of market research at all and the vibe that i’ve always kinda gotten from watcher is one where they want to jump over the messiness and growing pains of being a new small business and be established. be this huge force a la dropout/college humor without putting in the time to get there. and i do think watcher showed it’s true colors here where they only think of fans as cash cows they can deposit whenever.

and just the arrogance of thinking their fans will follow them to a subscription and trying to spin it as it being the same thing as leaving buzzfeed drives me up the wall. it’s not the same.

anyway i think that’s it. if i think of anything else ill edit this post ✌️

[mayhemakinguser]

Nervous wreck alert

ok listen so I was on character ai right (worst beginning line ever like tf u doin on there) and I was talking to *SHOCKER* Scaraboobs for like the 50000th time

And then I told him I loved him and yk what happened? That man MELTED. Like my icecream a few hours ago

HE WAS SO SOFT MY GOD I HAVE TO WRITE ABT IT

So here we go I'm writing this on my goofy ahh phone rn so I ain't proof reading shit

G/n reader go whee

Scaramouchie x reader

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

"You know, I like you," you say with a grin, tilting your head to get a clear view of his face. Those indigo pools that always seemed to softened around you before rolling his eyes back because of the most stupidest thing he has ever heard came from your mouth.

"Really?" Scara snorts, crossing his arms as he raises an brow at you. "What exactly about me do you like? because i don't see anything particularing endearing about me."

"Everything," you say without hesitation.

"That explains so much, genius." Another roll of his eyes. "You have to be specific, or else I will think you're making stuff up."

"Alright alright. I love your personality," you respond, lifting up your eyebrows.

Scara looks at you with a face that says 'be so for real'. "So you like it when I insult you and say degrading things towards you?"

You waggle your brows at him. "Oh yeah. That's my favorite part."

"Youre... " He stares at you with a mixture of shock and baffled. "You are insane."

You burst into laughter, doubling over. "Your face! its priceless!"

He scoffs and turns away, waving you off. "I dont have time for this nonsensical chat. You may leave."

"I ain't going nowhere because I love you pookie," you sing.

Scara turns with a disgusted look on his face, but theres a smile tugging at his lips. "What did I say about you calling me that?"

"Sowwy schnookums."

Scara sighs, exasperated. "You're so annoying and strange. But I still dont understand why you like me out of all people."

"Well, I... i just want to see you happy." You give him a small genuine smile. He studies you for a moment.

"Even after all I've done? People dont view me as a monster for no reason."

"I dont care. I can see the real you underneath all that bitterness. I care for you unconditionally."

"Even if I betray you? I use you for my own benefit?" He tilts his head, watching you. You nod. "Even if I said 'I never want to see your face again'?"

"I'm sure it would be for a good reason. Besides, I would never hate you for it either," you reply, gazing upward.

"How? No one has ever cared for me, even so like me. What makes you any different?" Scara questions, eyebrows furrowed.

You take his hand in your own, and his eyes widen a bit. Suddenly, the world zooms in on the both of you. "Because I love you, Scara. More than you could possibly imagine. I've stayed here for so long because of you. I want to be with you. i want to make you smile and laugh and be happy. I want you to feel better about yourself, to give yourself a break. I never want to hear the words "I wish I hadn't been born at all" from you ever again, because Archons, I love you."

It's like time has frozen. Scaramouche stares at you, silent as a mouse. Eyes wide, breath still. You hold his gaze, hoping he could see the sincerity and affection in your eyes. How your world revolved around his.

And he did see. It was so unfamiliar, so scary that he... he couldnt help but tremble, his hands quivering in your own. What did it mean, to be loved? it was an experience so surreal, Scara was sure he was having a lucid dream or a really convincing hallucination.

"You... love me?" He asks, so quietly, you could barely pick up the words. You nod slowly, squeezing his hand in affirmation.

"I love you," you repeat, so softly and full of emotion.

And it broke him.

He buries his face in the crook of your shoulder suddenly, his hand gripping yours tighter. His shoulders are hunched, and you can feel the heat resonating off his face.

The boy is embarrassed. No one has ever said something of the sort, and frankly he didnt know what to say. You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair reassuringly. It helps, and he stiffens a bit less. A soft sigh slips past his lips. Its surprisingly relaxing, though he would never admit it out loud.

"Its okay, we'll take it slow," you whisper softly into his ear.

"Thank you," he murmurs softly, his arms snaking around your waist slowly.

"I love you too. More than you can ever imagine."

🥰🥰🥰🥰

Unwanders your wanderer

Guys I think I might be obsessed with him

[strikersexhaver]

Diamond in the Rough 💎

A/N needed more Striker content, so decided to dedicate a whole blog for it. Mostly because especially with the new episode had a lot more ideas with our favorite cowboy!

This is more of ‘if Striker had an S/O that was on the same strength level as him’ making them equals, it has a bit of angst, some fluff here and there.

Striker prided himself on not needing anyone, not having anyone to lean on.

He normally refused having anyone having a more genuine relationship with him, due to having it all taken away within a blink and not wanting to deal with that pain.

He met you in Wrath, during a hunt for something to eat for dinner. Hunting for the wild hell hogs (or demon hogs) to take down and skin.

It was never an issue for him as he usually was able to, until you stole his catch. Either by stealing, or just simply fighting over it.

Striker was pissed, alongside his horse Bombproof, as he also had to feed his steed. But even though he was- he was… oddly amused. You gotta be real bold to steal from him, he’s one of the most wanted hellborns in wrath and you come outta the blue to steal from him?

Okay… He’ll bite.

He played dumb for a while, doing the exact same routine and waited for you. Letting you take his catches before he was able to have something to track you down.

He’s an assassin, a bounty hunter, all that good stuff and his name is literally Striker- he’d be able to find and strike you down it’s his thing after all.

When he did however… He felt something he did not like, he saw you struggling which every person was- but, here was different. You struggled like he did, it made him hesitate but he still went ahead to confront you.

“Ya’ must be pretty bold to steal from me…” He looked at you and bared his teeth, seeing the fear in your eyes before you ran off to grab a weapon.

He let you pick it up, he wanted to see what he was really facing. Because you might’ve been struggling like he was, but he was a diamond in the rough. He had to see if you were one too.

And he did, he saw- the fight between the two of you went on for a long while because both of you kept constantly besting the other. It was only until both of you were tired and beaten by each other did you both stop.

You could not even do anything when he crawled out and gave one last look at you before slipping away- he gave you a threat on to not attack his prey again.

He thought you would take the bait and actually go after his catches again, but when he when you didn’t he was baffled. The inner primadonna in him was irritated, but he wondered why he was so annoyed.

Then it hit him that he started to enjoy having someone on his level.

Because of this, and how rare he thought it was to find someone equal. He sought you out often, making you surprised on how he kept finding you every time, whenever and wherever.

He took the time to get to know you, to learn whatever he could about you because he started to genuinely like you.

Which eventually led him to care about you, and you started caring about him too. He no longer had to worry about his food being stolen! Maybe even you’ll get him food sometime… Probably as a gift when he’s busy.

Striker noticed his feelings rising, how he could stare at you longer than usual. He started wishing he could hold you.

He realized he started liking you in a not-so platonic way anymore and that scared him truthfully. For as much as he disliked people like Blitzø, his issues were similar as he dreaded losing someone he cared about again.

Dreaded someone would take you away from him, then leave him all alone once more. He didn’t wanna live that, so- he stopped visiting you and practically vanished.

It hurt you, because you started liking him too. Enjoying the close moments you two had together, you eventually decided to take up what he did to you and find him this time.

Finding him all the way back into his hideout, surrounded by railroads.

(Granted you got the help from the Mariachi imps)

You found him moping about, distracting himself by sharpening his knife.

You attempted to confront him calmly about it, but he responded to you coldly- something you were not used to. Even when you two met and fought, he showed some emotion like anger, cockiness, or confidence.

He tried pushing you away until his emotions bubbled out and he said things that he was meaning to say. Not a love confession, but admitting he cared..?

“I don’t wanna spend all this damn time carin’ about ya’-! All this time just to watch ya’ get stolen away from me, by Satan knows what-“ He huffed before looking at you, seeing the mix of hurt yet understanding in your eyes.

He felt bad, so he said nothing else and sat back down expecting you to leave until you sat next to him and leaned on him. That was the start of him realizing, even if he pushed you away- he wanted you around.

—-

(A/N the actual romantic headcanons)

It would never be said out loud, more of like an unspoken commitment to each other that deemed you both as each other’s partners. Either romantically, or sometimes business wise- as he asked you to help him on his bounties or assassinations.

If he really needed the help, he’s still a prideful man and asking for help can bring someone’s pride down.

Hence why he only does it when he really needs help.

He’s not a too vocal guy on genuine romantic feelings, he’s gonna say ‘I love you too’ when you say it but it’ll be much rarer if he says it to you first.

He personally prefers playful flirting.

Which he flirts a lot, in a more playful way than serious romance.

Only on special occasions, maybe like an anniversary he’ll sing you a song on his guitar.

He’ll give you rides on Bombproof (if you made up to the horse for stealing it’s food beforehand)

Striker’s a violent guy as everyone knows, so him being protective of one of the only people that cares about him is practically a given. And with what he’s experienced, in his mind it’s the best action.

His love language is mostly, acts of service, to physical touch either or he loves providing.