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bookshelfdreams · 7 months

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That is certainly - a statement.

What about Jim, who both metaphorically and literally discovers a path for themself beyond what they were raised to be? What about Pete, who learns to overcome his toxic masculinity, his posturing and self-importance? What about Ed, whose entire story is about deconstructing the performance that is expected of him?

What about, oh, idk, our main fucking character Stede Bonnet, whose arc starts with him literally breaking out from the hetero marriage he was forced into despite never fitting in? Who tries (and initially fails) to build a community where he can be himself? Whose entire story is about discovering his own queerness! He starts out not even able to put a finger on WHY his marriage made him feel so suffocated, and then journeys through s1 until he reaches the emotional climax - "His name is Ed"!

Contrast that with Izzy, who has to be dragged into a supportive community kicking and screaming. Who rejects care and compassion, even at his worst, who has to be forced to accept help. He receives the leg and calls the crew a homophobic slur for it, ffs. Only after that, only when people refuse to let him push them away, is he able to poke his nose into something approaching positive human connections. And that's a powerful narrative, sure, in it's own way; but it's hardly the Ultimate Queer Experience, and it's definitely not the "only queer arc".

And Izzy never lets go of the old ways. He never abandons the Blackbeard-era pirate lifestyle for something more positive, not fully. And that's okay, because ultimately, his arc isn't even about himself.

It's about Ed.

Ed keeps repeating toxic relationship patterns, and Izzy is a part of that. He's linked (on purpose, and I wish it had been done more explicitly) to Ed's father; because Izzy represents the poison that was instilled in Ed from a young age, and that has become so entrenched in his system that he can't imagine a life without it. He keeps Izzy around despite being hurt by him because Izzy is predictable, and in that, is safe, even though he hurts Ed; at least it's a hurt Ed is familiar with and can rely on.

When Izzy slowly changes it's to show that Ed is growing beyond the little voice in his head telling him to reject softness, that he can never be loved, that We're just not these kinds of people. If Izzy can evolve from someone spitting boyfriend at Ed like it's a slur to someone congratulating him on getting laid by that same person, Ed can overcome his inner demons telling him the same thing.

That's the point of Izzy's arc. And this is why he has to die, because Ed can never be truly free as long as Izzy is around. So Izzy goes, quietly, peacefully, and releases Ed of the poison; apologizes to him, tells him I was so wrong, and I am so sorry, because that's what Ed needs to hear to move forward.

And that's such a kind, positive way to end the story of Izzy Hands.

#'izzy has the only queer arc' get the fuck out of here #this is such a baffling take what fucking show did you watch #izzys is not never has been and never was going to be the protagonist. he was only ever a device to tell the story of ed.#sorry ik yall dont like to hear this but its the truth.#god forbid a fictional white man die in a television series #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #thoughts #izzy hands #if you want to pick a fight w me over this I am simply not going to respond to that <3

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qqueenofhades · 3 months

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I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to argue with people about the worthlessness of voting third party. They just keep insisting that the influence is worth it, and that I was a coward for daring to suggest that we don't HAVE any other options than Democratic. I even cited how voting third party likely played a part in Al Gore losing ffs.

There's no "likely" about it, Ralph Nader DID directly cost Gore the election. He ran explicitly on the same "both parties are the same, so leftists/liberals should vote for me instead" rhetoric that we are still seeing among the Online Left, and it was successful: he got, for example, over 97,000 votes in Florida. Bush won Florida (and thus the presidency) by a miniscule 537 votes, after the fuckery of Bush v. Gore and SCOTUS ordering the recount stopped in Bush's favor. If the tiniest percentage of those Nader voters had gone for Gore, we would have had a president who was arguing in favor of tackling climate change in the year 2000. We would have been incredibly ahead of the curve. We would, in all likelihood, have a president who took the CIA's warnings of an impending al-Qaeda attack in the US seriously. We would not have had the disastrous Afghanistan and Iraq invasions and the "War on Terror," the rampant Islamophobia, "No Child Left Behind," the 2008 economic crash, and everything else that Dubya and his band of bloodthirsty neocons inflicted on us in the early aughties. Look, I try not to look back too much, but having Gore instead of Bush as president would have reshaped the entire timeline we're living in to such an unfathomably better degree that every moron thinking of voting third party For The Protest should be sat down and forced to learn this history intimately. Of course, they already saw it happen in real time in 2016, but they didn't care about that either.

The good news is: there are plenty of persuadable voters out there, and you can do work to reach them and convince them to vote for Democrats! They're just not online, because all the Online Leftists are terminally brain-poisoned against voting anyway and trying to argue with them is generally a waste of time. Instead, what you should do is take a gander at the following links:

This is the one-stop shop page for volunteering to get Democrats elected. You can do in-person and remote work, there are tons of different ways to get involved (i.e. you don't have to go directly out and knock doors if that's not something you're comfortable with), and your local Democratic party will welcome the volunteer help. There is also a page for finding your state party website:

I went there, clicked on my state, opened the webpage, and there was a "Volunteer" link right in the header, with an easy and quick form to fill out to register your interest and explain the kinds of work you would be interested in doing. You can canvass directly, you can manage data on the back end, you can phone bank, you can send texts and postcards to voters who may need an extra nudge, you can otherwise work with your state party in lots of ways, and it will be so much more productive and make you feel so much better than arguing with online idiots who will never, ever change their minds. What you can do is reach out to voters in your own community, in your own state, and have conversations with people who actually ARE willing to listen, but might need a little more educating on the facts, what's at stake, the truth about this election, and the danger that Trump poses. All of this will convert into critically important Democratic votes, and you can actually put your desire to make a difference into action. So yeah. I would 100% suggest you do it this way instead. Good luck.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 1 month

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luxiem as bad sex

don’t worry about it this is mostly for the lolz. might fuck around and do this for other livers next time i feel restless. make sure to properly communicate with your partner

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, smut, humor/crack, chatfic in shu’s entry, public sex, uki violeta cameo, cheating/ntr mention, just imagine the baldur’s gate 3 scene with the luxiem guy of your choice you know what i’m talking about

⚠️ nsfw under the cut. content not intended for minors.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🖋 Ike Eveland: anatomy

there is a chance that, when you sleep with ike, despite his title, it’s his first time.

25% chance says that he fully does not know what he’s doing, and asks you for a full-blown tutorial on how to stick part a into part b.

25% chance says that he fully does not know what he’s doing but he doesn’t even admit to it. it’s a lot of trial and error and insistence that no, don’t worry, i got this when he very clearly does not.

25% chance that, for the first time in his life, eroge has come in clutch. he understands! kind of. it’s more like as he penetrates you he tries to compare your sounds to the moans of eroge characters. the more you sound like a hentai protagonist the better. it’s also worth noting he pumps into you to the beat of a huniepop song that worked its way into his head while he was trying to figure out what’s a good or bad sound.

and finally 25% chance that it’s just fine.

but let it be known that he 100% does not know how to find the clit. barely knows how to find the prostate either. ike won’t admit to either of these things

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦁 Luca Kaneshiro: openness

never let it be said luca is solitary. he’s social and likes to explore different spaces. it means dates happen often, and so does getting dragged off to give him head in public.

this would be fine if it was a bathroom stall. you know, the standard couple spots. what you didn’t expect was in a fairly open alley. or an amusement park ride with automatic souvenir pictures. or on the shady side of a beach full of people.

hell, even when you get into a changing room while shopping there’s still a risk. he’s gotten you to jack him off while wearing not-yet-purchased jeans more than once and as exciting as it was you have no clue what happened to the poor retail workers that had to find them hanging on the return-to-hanger rack.

at home he leaves doors open since it’s just the two of you, including when he goes down on you. he leaves them open when there’s guests, too, and guides you into your bedroom when he needs a break from talking to people. the doors are still open. you’re a master at being quiet but sometimes his puppy wanders around looking for his owner, and…

(side note: not about sex but i just know he would leave the door open or walk in on you using the bathroom and that terrifies me)

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino: attentiveness

Me: hey

Me: are you awake??

taro_twink: abt to sleep

taro_twink: what do you want shu

Me: idk c:

taro_twink: so you blew up my phone??? bitch??

Me: fjakajsjsldj i wanted to talk to my friend!

taro_twink: wish granted

taro_twink: wyd?

Me: reader

taro_twink: don’t text on a date

Me: we’re at home

taro_twink: go spend time with reader then ffs

Me: i am

Me: reader feels really nice c:

taro_twink: wait

Me: and i like making reader say my name too

taro_twink: SHSKDKLSJA

taro_twink: WHAT FHE FUXK

taro_twink: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TEXTINF ME RIFHT NOW

taro_twink: SHU YAMINO WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU

Me: dw reader hasn’t noticed my phone yet

taro_twink: THIS ISNT ABOUT READER ITS ABOUT ME

Me: my phone is by the pillow so it’s hard to see

taro_twink: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TEXTING WHILE SCREWING SOMEONE????????????

Me: yea :homiekiss:

taro_twink: you are fucked up and i’m going to bed

taro_twink: so done with you jfc

taro_twink: gn

taro_twink: bye

taro_twink: if you say anything else i’m blocking your number

Me: you’re no fun

taro_twink: you are literally texting me while you’re doing your partner i don’t want to hear it

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👹 Vox Akuma: names

vox is noisy. delightfully so. it’s easy to communicate with him because he’s unconsciously vocal whenever he likes something.

these sounds, however, are usually limited to grunts, moans and cries. all well and good, but when things get more intense, he’s more inclined to scream your name.

and when his dick is in your mouth he can’t think straight, in the worst way.

this is just to say that even when you’re not roleplaying, he’s cried out a lot of names that aren’t yours. usually celebrities or fictional characters. you’ve lost count of how many tall/dark/handsome guys with long hair he’s cum to, or sassy women. hell, his celebrity crushes don’t even look like you.

if you have cheating fantasies this is excellent. if you have ntr fantasies, excellent as well. what isn’t excellent, however, is how last time you poured wax on him while fucking him from behind, he buried his face into the pillow and whimpered out your coworker’s name.

he was very lucky you didn’t have more wax to splash him with

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

#ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #luxiem x reader #luxiem #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #ike eveland smut #luca kaneshiro smut #shu yamino smut #vox akuma smut #4402 writes #hear me out i just KNOW he can’t find the c/it

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snowbrekker · 26 days

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The stewards can call James "The Betrayer" all they want, it will never change the fact that they are the ones who actually betrayed him.

He was betrayed and at such a young age, how could they ?? And it makes me a specific kind of angry because technically, Violet and Will have also gone through this.

Violet's father betrayed her because he only raised her for her brother to kill her. But her only family was her brother really, cause she never felt that love from her father or her stepmother.

Will's mother raised him but never trusted him and then tried to kill him. I'm not that far into the book so I don't know how his mother treated him but I have a bad feeling about it...

But James was raised in a loving environment (I think ?). He was devoted to the cause, he was set to be the youngest steward and they all praised him for it and then they all turned on him the minute he showed any sign of being reborn. He was eleven ffs like how could they ?

What's worse ? Never having known the love of family and community ? Or having it your whole life and it being taken away ?

I don't know man, I feel for them all so much... C.S. Pacat always writes such tortured and complicated characters, I knew it, I was prepared for it this time but she always punches me in the gut anyway !

#dark rise #dark heir #will kempen #violet ballard #james st clair #wames #is that the ship name ?#I'm knew somebody talk to me about them please #and this trilogy in general #it's killing me #zohlaa speaks

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forthelostones · 9 months

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i. through the darkness - a fanfiction

꧁ since the apocalypse you found yourself living a stagnant but fulfilling life. you lived in the cabin you watched your parents build many years ago. you never ended up in a qz or sought out refuge anywhere else. living just outside jackson, on a lakefront, away from the world. you watched them build a community around you, something someone so isolated could dream of. but what would it cost? on a lone day, while you're hunting for dinner you hear a dry voice cry for help. it's a familiar voice, one you've only heard of ruffled behind static. she's helpless in your trap, unconscious in the dirt, leaking with blood, her auburn hair stuck to her fighting face.

content: mention of loss, mention of two-parent household, parent/ sibling death (implied), grief, blood, aged!ellie, fluff/angst.

an: waaaaa let's see how long this'll last. first ff since i was 13? woaaaa. also thanks guys for all the follows, that’s means sm to me!!! also any requests? let me know.

wc: 2.2k

Your stomach spoke to you while finishing your glass of herbal tea. It warmed you, but it wouldn’t satisfy you until dinner, which you were putting off. You knew you'd need to go hunt since the change of seasons left you with such little protein. But you so desperately enjoyed the weather and the coolness that allowed you to sit by the fire, read your favorite books, and go thoughtless. The crinkling of the wood created a hazy picture inside your mind of when you would sit by the fire with your mom and read her childhood books. You look around and sit alone with a copy of a graphic novel with pages that have become dusty with time.

You close up the book and swallow the last drops of tea as you slip on your house shoes to walk to the kitchen. The floorboards creak beneath you, echoing in your ears, reminding you how quiet this place has become. Your hands wrap around the ceramic sink as you lay the glass down and peer out to the lake. Your memory floods with flashes of Christmas, the house noisy with the clattering dishes from the same meal mom made every year. Meatloaf, fire-roasted chicken. mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits, pumpkin pie, and iced lavender tea. A meal that filled your belly up so much that you could barely stand at the sink to wash dishes. But as you stood, you so desperately wanted to lay in your father's arms, on the couch, listening to the laughter of your mom and brother dancing to a record. But instead, you looked out the window, into the never-ending treeline, watching the snow fall heavily over the deck sloppily washing.

You sniffled as you fought the distance between your mind and the present. You weren’t in the business of crying, that ended a long time ago. But when you peered out that same window and watched the sun hallow into the lake slowly you felt as if you could.

Better go, you thought.

You strapped on your boots, tossed your rifle over your shoulder, and headed towards the door. All your gear was already set up from the day previously when you decided you would just eat vegetable soup again for dinner. You groan as you step into the frosty air, colder than you thought, but you smile, knowing Spring is knocking, waiting to come in. The world around you had become so quiet, so you constantly hummed a tune your dad taught you to keep your mind from wandering.

♪ Open the door, Richard…

Open the door and let me in…♪

You hear his voice chime in on the next line…

♪ Open the door, Richard

Richard, why don't you open that door?♪

The whistling breeze came to a brief halt, amplifying your voice and your feet crunching on the recently defrosted grass. As you walk to your post, opposite the lake, you hear coughing. For a moment you think it’s in your head, a new bit your memory made up while singing the vaudeville tune. The gurgle of trapped liquid triggered your senses causing you to leap to the ground.

“‘Elp—“

It wasn’t an infected, it was an actual human. Your body jerks a gasp out of your mouth causing you to muffle your excitement that faded quickly. You set up a conibear trap down that way to ward off the trespassers you thought you’d get. You stood to your feet and sprinted ferociously to the sight. The voice yelped again, softly, as they hear you crash towards them.

Lying in a shallow ditch was a girl with the thick of her calve stuck between your trap. How long has she been out here? Her face was dirtied with earth and her body twitched from the pain. She had dropped out of consciousness as you appeared. Luckily the trap was old and somewhat defective, so her blood flow wasn’t as intense as it could’ve been. You check the surrounding area cautiously to make sure no one is hidden along the shore or tree line. You went over to her, prying the trap away with any remaining strength you had, nicking yourself and freeing her leg. Her pierced veins dripped blood, so you unwrap your scarf and tie it around her flesh until you could get her into the cabin. You hoist her up over your shoulder and walk quickly from shore, up the grassy plain, and twisting the door handle open with a free hand.

Your heart raced at the human connection.

“I gotcha,” you say hoarsely.

You open the bathroom door and lie her in the bathtub, hand behind her frosted neck. She's practically frozen, you thought. You remove her backpack, shoes, and additional layers down to her warming garments and grab the med kit from your living room. Your hands quake as you attempt to remember what to do. Find the source, stop the source, stay clean baby, you hear your Mom say. You cut a strip up her pant leg to view the wound. She needed stitching, on both sides of her calve, bulbs of nervous sweat gathered on your forehead, and fell quickly into the tub. Your hands were damp with fresh blood, more than you’ve ever dealt with before even when you went hunting. You reached for the spout to the tub and rinsed your hands off before delving into the kit for a needle and thread, she was going to be okay.

You stood at her bedside, sponging her face with warm water you boiled on the stove and a clean washcloth. Your heart rate hasn’t dropped since you found her. Almost ten years since a human was breathing around you and you couldn’t believe it, you wished it didn’t go this way, but part of you was glad she did. Questions rummaged through your curious mind about how she found you, why she was here, what if she came to kill you, what if there’s a cure and they were alerting others? The thoughts didn’t stop. She was still unconscious, lying in your bed, tucked warmly with your flannel pajamas, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. You had given her a nice cleaning, wiping away the days-old dirt built up on her skin, even picking it from under her nails. Slathering her dried lips with petroleum, combing her hair after washing it, and now cleaning off her cheeks. Her face pleased your eyes, and that short hair sparked fiery against the dullness of your bedroom, filled with trinkets of the past illuminated by a flickering candle. Your sponge slowly swiped over her tattoo, it looked a few years old, faded away with time, and stretched over her aching muscle.

Cool, you thought in the midst of then constant brain chatter.

You dragged the loveseat from the living room to where she peacefully slept. You had been monitoring her after drowning her in freshwater with crushed-up painkillers. You had been worried because her breathing began to stagger into choking snores. But you also thought it would be a good idea to stay by her side to explain why she was here. In the meantime, you warmed up leftover soup on the stove, making sure there was enough for her when she awakened. You pulled a blanket off your couch and dragged a cup of soup to your post. As you spooned in the warm broth with potatoes and carrots to your mouth you watched her chest rise and fall, even if her breathing became shallow, you watched to make sure. She began to sweat late in the night, so you placed a cool rag on her forehead and dulled the fire. Something about her made you want to know her.

The morning broke through the sheer curtains and the birds from last Spring arrived again. You looked over to your patient who cuddled a pillow to her chest, hair sticky, and sprawled all over her face. It actually makes you smile because for a moment, life feels familiar — she feels familiar. You have a stretch and head to the kitchen to get started on breakfast, oats with apple butter. You toss more fire starter into the pit to bring more warmth to the brisk morning. A loud groan, that flowers into a scream, comes from your bedroom and you are met with the fiery woman once again. Her eyes bulging out of her head as her arms flail with her head tossed back. She searches around your room for something, anything to protect herself, and for a moment you feel the threat of danger comes as she grips the glass of water you set out for her.

“Stop!” You holler, but your voice cracks, it’s been a while since it’s been used like this.

Her strong arms chuck the glass at your feet, which causes you to wince and jump onto the bed. You wrap your hand around her aching, freshly stitched calf. She spits out profanities, reaching for your face, but you just squeeze her throwing arm harder.

“I’m help, I help you, I’m helping you!” You stutter, trying to get the phrasing right.

But she doesn’t stop until tears form in the corner of her eyes.

Her body stops shaking the second she makes eye contact with you. In that moment you felt like Eve, full of sin, being discovered by God's wandering eye, naked, with her pupils melding into yours. She sighs as you lift your hand.

“It’s it’s me,” you suggest, repeatedly saying your name.

Her forest eyes settle on you as you move quickly off of her, freeing her wrist.

“Okay. Okay.” She replies.

Her voice is dry with rasp laced between her moans of agony.

“You got stuck in my trap, do you remember, I-I live here. This is my house.” You explain anxiously.

Which feels weird to say out loud, it’s just yours now.

She remains silent.

“Your leg got caught in a trap, do you remember?” You enunciated slowly.

“I can understand you.”

You twitch at her unpleasant reply.

“Can you? Look, I’m sorry you got stuck. I’ll get you more meds.”

“No, no,” she winches. “It’s fine I have to go, my people are probably worried, how many days has it been?”

You shrug your shoulders, which wasn’t sufficient enough for her, and she spits a nasty what at you. “I don’t know and what do you mean people? Is there someone coming here, are you…”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence at the possibility of this girl attracting people to you.

“No, no one knows I'm here exactly. I wouldn't willingly walk into a trap.”

You keep your post near the door, away from the broken glass as you observe her attempt to sit up. She looks around the room and you feel a wave of embarrassment. Posters from your youth are plastered on the walls, crooked and dusty.

“You won’t be able to make it far with that leg.” You distract her.

She pulls the sheet away from her now bloody gauze. The sight makes you jump into action and elevate it. You thought your stitches would hold, but they didn’t. The glass crunched under you as you leaped to the loveseat where you moved the kit for the night. You frantically removed the swatch of gauze and unraveled it in your hands.

“Give it.” She demands.

But you’re not listening to her words, you unravel the fabric to see your stitches in place, just her movement made her bleed a little more.

“Give it,” she reached for your hands.

“Let me do this!” You scream, shutting her up.

She sits as quiet as she can, sucking her teeth, as you change her bandages. You look up to her and she looks away, avoiding contact with your eyes. You silently walk to wash your hands and grab the broom.

The room falls quiet other than the hay sticks scraping the wood.

“I’m sorry.”

Her voice breaks through the silence and you just freeze, squatting on the ground, over the glass, out of her view. Once the glass is in the metal dustpan you walk it to the kitchen to dispose of it.

“It’s okay. I would’ve reacted the same way.” You sigh, propping yourself back in your chair.

“You alone?”

“I am, have been for the last ten.”

“Oh shit.”

Her reaction pulled at a nerve you didn't think you had.

“Ten years,” she adds. “By yourself? What…”

You just nod, thinking of how your mom would’ve handled this situation. Brought breakfast to bed, made a natural creme for her wounds, and played soft music to awaken her. She wouldn’t have attacked Mom.

“I’ll get started on breakfast.”

You watched her devour a bowl of warm oats. The spoon entered her mouth swiftly, clattering against her front teeth and scraping as she pulled it away. You added milk into her oats to be more filling, lots of cinnamon, and apple butter to hide the stale taste. Her tongue even rode the ridges of the bowl where the thick, sweet glue dried and hardened. Her breathing was sporadic, almost like she would die if she didn’t devour the food immediately. You were still on your fifth spoon, almost halfway through. You deducted from her hurriedness that she was outside for at least three days. She sat patiently against the headboard and waited for you to finish. You had forgotten how to speak to someone. The only time you spoke these days was when you read to yourself, acting out the scenes and trying character voices. As you try to speak to her your voice caught in the back of your throat. But you could ask the one question humans asked each other upon first meeting.

“What’s your name… by the way? The by the way you added hurriedly as you remembered from the movies you watch that they say that.

“Ellie.” She replied.

“Ellie.” You repeat.

You smirked as you took another spoonful, hiding your mouth, you liked the way her name sat at the tip of your tongue. Instead of worrying, you just thought Ellie.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #lesbian #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #tlou2 ellie #ellie angst #ellie fluff #x reader #fanfics #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #the last of us 2 #ellie x y/n #ellie x dina

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dilfhos · 8 months

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sooo this is gonna be a messy rant on the observations ive made between different writer communities, blog interactions and overall “status”. just silly little things I’ve noticed in my 4+ years being on tumblr btwn 2 diff blogs. and this is about no one specific, a very generalized post so if you find urself offended i honestly dont know what to tell you?? :o do better ig. & if you relate, i feel for you. TLDR @/end.

i dont like interacting/ building connections with people but not for the reasons ppl think. im not stuck up or pretentious or weird or anything. just another anime-enjoyer who loves to write in her free time. nobody special by a longshot!! i enjoy writing, always have since before i was a teen. (wasn’t always ff tho!).

but over the years ive just noticed fandom writing has its gritty sides that no one talks about often and its no mystery why so many prolific/ popular writers deactivated, me included. i had some shitty experiences and have seen friends go bc of it.

firstly, I’ve noticed, once you start interacting and building friendships with people, it’s easier to see the bigger perspective of where ppl stand and the blatant hierarchy of friendships and groups. same applies to that outside. like its literally just me n’ my bsf then my acquaintances bc mfs be weirddd omg its like cults or something. like thats why initially I didn’t interact w/anyone starting on my new blog. that n’ fear of drama following from my last blog ugh. ‘Cept the few i’ve met on my old blog (like my wifey)

not to mention i have bad anxiety. and sometimes im cue-deaf. i dont always pick up what people put down and vice versa and it makes me conscious in a lot of my interactions. so a part of me doesn’t want to interact at all to avoid all awkwardness and possible miscommunications. that’s not to say i don’t notice subtle changes in interactions after one situation / conversation or so forth, that in myself or witnessed between other ppl. (im perceptive, just not that good conversationalist lol. like i really have to try.)

but then…if you don’t interact with people on here, your chances of building an audience or a reader base is slim to none. the likelihood of developing relationships is zip. because you’re already perceived and pegged as just another tumblr writer. pause. to clarify, a writer who doesn’t want any recognition or interactions from mutuals or new friends. or just a lonely writer? a introverted, lonely writer. which leads to little to none interactions (anons, reblogs, moots —exposure.)

so then its like you’re kinda placed btwn a rock n a hard place. and there’s absolutely no problem with that! in fact this is the best part—meeting friends and like-minded people! people that make being online all the more worth it right? thirsting over fictional characters and sharing in each other’s works!

but you have to be in specific circles it seems. but then you can’t imply that you want to be in those circles bc then you’re desperate.

but well, then you cant purposefully want to be independent or be on your own or else you’re a hater, hypocrite or stuck up. not to mention, no one will reblog your stuff lol. no one will interact fr, and you’re friendless essentially. and god forbid if you disagree on something as if opinions don’t exist btw! then you’re being ganged up on. (like omg grow up!)

but then if you reach out you’re seen as trying to wedge in or kiss ass? you interact and follow and you’re ignored or left hanging? (bc im gonna touch your hand when i say this—it never gave fan, your majesty of horny nerds) and this is about ALL the writing communities and fandoms—spicy content, black content and dark content. ALL.

yet no one wants to talk about the pregnant elephant in the room—bias. and favoritism. also people seem to have a hard time being direct with how they’re feeling toward/about someone ( in a good or bad way) which in turn leads to a lot of miscommunication and subliminal attacks. (not to mention hate anons? one of my moots just had her inbox flooded w/them recently, ew.)

you can lead a horse to water AND you can write a 500-word essay on the observations made on tumblr writers as a whole. (a long ass post on the truth on behalf of those feeling this too)

also, slapping a HEY LOOK AT ME! IM A WRITER WHO WANTS INTERACTION AND FRIENDS! on a blog is frankly embarrassing. it shouldn’t even take all that seeing how easy it is for others wanting the same thing.

or doing less to achieve the same result.

not to mention, yall shit on ppl who essentially feel this way altogether bc you peg them as sb who doesn’t “try” or just jealous when their own works are phenomenally written themselves. ive seen it. and ive lived it. never gave jealousy baby.

at the end of the day, we’re all writers— either longterm or hobbyists. (personally, im longterm) self-indulgent or not! and its absolutely amazing when people are being fair in how they spread love and feedback to their writers.

Secondly, its not news that people have to want to reblog your fics so that their followers can reblog, so they can reblog, and their followers can reblog and so forth. but ppl honestly dont care atp bc once they’ve already read it, they owe you nothing. and apparently asking for reblogs is crass and bold. (imma do it anyway) but putting your very all into a story just to turn and see a half-thought out hc soaring 3k in 2hrs and 5k in a day — you have to stfu, open your ass and take it. keep it cute!

you’re getting fucked after all!!

because if you complain—you’re just jealous and lazy and uncreative!! and i hate that to seem like a writer worth a damn, you have to change up your writing style every two weeks to fit in with trending waves.

“no more poetic long fics, nobody’s into that! short, snappy slutty shots are all the rage!” “ppl are only into these specific tropes but you can’t exceed 2k words!” “only add trending characters to these hcs! ppl love them only!” “don’t write too much about a specific character or else ill unfollow you!” its exhausting.

i am well within my right as a literary artist to desire more feedback and interaction on anything i put out. period. and you are too! 🫵

God, im tired of that stupid, ‘you have to enjoy your writing for yourself and not worry about notes’ line. i do love my writing! don’t get me wrong there’s nobody id rather write like if not myself fr. not to mention the inspiration i draw from famous literary authors. however, i would love feedback and the same energy that i see with others in my same caliber.

and when i see others that didn’t even try fr—its a slap in the face to put it bluntly.

i can want silly little comments and notes about something i cherish and put out for that reason and yall aren’t gonna make me feel bad about it. sorry! like yall really be making people feel shitty for wanting the same type of interactions you get! especially when its harmless, bye asf. nb want to recipe to ur peach cobbler b!

the only one giving push back are those appointed popular /top blogs n’ cliques tho. now personally, i honestly dgaf if you have 20 followers or 25k, writing is writing and if its good you should want to support it regardless of following count/interaction right?

unfortunately, and quite unsurprisingly its not the case for the rest of this hellhole lol. there’s always gonna be some “big blog” in any part of tumblr or any social media for that matter.

but when the sole purpose being on a site like tumblr to write is mainly exposure, then it just makes it ten times worse especially if it seems that these blogs are steady at the top of every. single. tag. and listen, i know how initially stupid that sounds but when you’ve picked up on patterns for as long as i have, well iykyk.

so imma be real bc no one else will, half of the posts that yall see with 25k notes have alr been done. just different characters, different words, different dialogue. And 8/10 its been done by sb who only received 100 notes. Thats the evil part. whats more is that it lacks the creativity the one post with 100-300 notes is filled with completely.

POP QUIZ! what post would readers be more inclined to read? — one that says 10k (ohhh that must be popular!) or the one with only 150 (oh i guess nb really liked that one) that no one is even willing to reblog for MORE. and BOOM. now yall wonder why so many great writers LEAVE, its a fucking joke.

so unfortunately its no longer only about or only on readers anymore. its about who you know and who you know is willing to support your fr. who is willing to REBLOG your fics for their friends and followers, so that their friends and followers can reblog. to fit in you actually have to get in these days and it makes it all less enjoyable. makes it a chore and if you aren’t ‘doing it right’ ultimately it makes you feel shitty about your writing. (Please don’t, you are doing amazing. its the platform.)

it makes people not want to jump into writing. it pushes away those who actually want to join writing communities and meet people without feeling like they have to jump thru hoops to thrive or worse—live in other ppls shadows. and then it deters those from speaking up in fear of being shut down by bigger groups. ive seen it happen time and time again.

lastly, and this is the juiciest part! you absolutely cannot say anything about any of this bc you’re complaining and a fisher just looking for attention and not someone who just want things to be fair all over. play the game, right? ( wrong. and if this is your logic, you suck! )

its no longer about making flashy banners and pretty themes. its no longer about how many clever directory links you add or how many games you initiate on your blog or whether or not you’ve reblogged your fic three times already. its about your “friends”, other mutuals, and blogs willing to support you too. not just the audience. audience gonna do what they want regardless. reblog, don’t reblog, whatever. “at least ive read it right?” but everyone knows this. duh! but it’s obvious who doesn’t care as long as they’re on top of that tag! its admirable in a way but it sucks for those wanting to break out and build some kind of readerbase and/or make friends.

TLDR; people need to stop being bias and be fair and open lol. stop picking favorites and share the love all around. you see another person writing your favorite character or trope, give them a fucking chance and reblog, regardless if they’re in your ‘circle’ / radar or not. regardless if you know them or not. hell, let them put you on to a new fandom. bc writing is writing and making new moots and finding new fics seem to be what everyone loves to showcase until its time to actually do it. no wonder people get discouraged to make friends and write, yall treat it like some kind of secret society when its supposed to be fun💀 not a competition. (yall need to dead this clique-y shit. )

#writers #writers of tumblr #WATCH EVERYONE SKIP OVER THIS DHDHDJDN #OH OH OH #and im black #LMAO THATS THE PUNCHLINE #so #all of this isnt only happening in a general writing fandom #but the little corner for my black people??#and in the corners of other minorities #IT HAPPENS HERE TOO DHGSGJG #nb is safe🙅🏾‍♀️#i thought we were escaping exclusivity?#and assumptions made about other people??#trust when i say this is NOT about anyone specific #just silly little observations #and pieces of my experiences #so any complaints #SHOVE IT SHOVE IT SHOVE IT!#will delete if this starts a revolt #or not bc i love chaos in the name of truth #i hope yall can feel the sarcasm this is kinda longer than i intended but i wanted to be as thorough as possible in my point #been working on this for a min #im not tagging as discourse bc this isn’t what this is #and if you treat is as such imma just assume you’re exactly who im talking about and keep it pushing🤷🏾‍♀️#just be better is all im saying #BYE I JUST CAUGHT SO MANY MISTAKES #the shame #i was caught up #but yall get it

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solradguy · 8 months

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It’s crazy to me that someone like ed chang was a pre-med college student in 2003 was able to do so much translation and archival work for the gg community back in the gamefaqs era. all bc his uni had ggx arcade cabinet in it. especially those drama cds. apparently bungie imported them from japan and skuld had to translate by ear on shitty early 00s headphones like holy shit.

His translation have for the most part held up pretty well for me in 2023. I’m a pre-med college student born in 2003 and I can never imagine doing all that. I can’t lab combos i’m fucking the lab ta. Also my uni doesn’t have gg :( we literally have like everything else: sf games, mk games and mk ii cabinet, mvc1 cabinet, and smash. no kof or ff too. how can i get into med school without having guilty gear available on campus? fuck clinical hours i need more +r hours

Honestly I have no idea how the hell he did it. Guy was insane. I've thought about trying to translate something 2003-style before with no/limited online dictionaries, no OCR, no machine translation for when I just Cannot Figure It Out. Sitting there at a desk with a fat stack of books and a notepad. How did Ed Chang do it. Other than like the Sfondi thing and a few minor errors, they're good translations too.

Come to Ohio, we're apparently some kind of freak Guilty Gear hotspot

#asks #I don't know why I made that graphic but I started thinking about it too much and it made me laugh

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aita-blorbos · 4 months

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AITA for walking out on my training?

Basically, I (23m) was raised from birth by my aunt and uncle (who, sadly, have passed away). While I was curious about my bio parents, my aunt and uncle didn’t know them very well due to my dad being my uncle’s estranged step-brother, and I was pretty much content with my family life. My dad came up in conversation occasionally, but all I really heard was that he died before I was born and was involved with illegal drug dealing. That’s not that uncommon around my hometown, though, so I didn’t think much of it.

Cut to about four years ago, my family purchased some secondhand equipment. One unit said it belonged to a man with the same last name as a member of our community, B (50’s-60’s?m). When I got curious and went to investigate, I ended up finding out that they were the same person, and that he knew my father. It also turns out that my father was NOT a drug runner, but a member of a religious order that was outlawed around the time I was born. (Before you ask, no, it is not a cult. The government has been repressing it, but its main tenets are mindfulness, self-discipline, respect for life, and harmony with the universe ffs. ANYWAY) B offered to induct and instruct me in it. I initially declined because the training would take me away from my family, but changed my mind after my aunt and uncle died, at which point I didn’t have many links left to my hometown, since all of my friends had left for school. This also offered me a chance to learn to pilot (my dream) and get involved with some wider social activism that I’ve been interested in, not to mention that I was excited about the new information about my father and a chance to connect with his legacy.

Long story short, we found a message hidden in the equipment from a diplomat with connections to B and ended up helping her (“L”, 23f) escape unjust imprisonment by government officials, but were separated from B.

L turned out to be a member of the activist group that I was interested in, and I’ve been doing that for the last few years, and was recently contacted by B to go train with his old teacher, Y. It occurred in a pretty isolated location, but at one point I (correctly) suspected L and other friends of ours had ended up getting in a rough spot with the gov again, and I stopped in the middle of my training to go help them despite not having any solid information on what was going down, against the advice of B and Y, who seemed pretty disappointed.

Unfortunately, one of our friends was left behind, having been incapacitated and more securely held due to some trouble with a mob boss. When I went back to Y to finish my training, he declared me a full member of the religious order, even though my training was never fully finished and kind of spotty to begin with, and passed away shortly afterward.

Since then, I’ve been dealing with some imposter syndrome and feeling like if I’d stayed to finish my instruction, very little would have really changed for the worse for my friends and I would be more prepared to carry out my duties as the last member of the order, especially since I was so eager for it (and still am!). I’d give more details, but it’s be risky for me. You know how it is even just for protestors and such rn.

So, AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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march2nd · 6 months

Text

BEFORE THE STORM

FORGET ME (not) m.list next

prologue - BEFORE THE STORM

please note that I do not follow canon in this one , basically i have read the hunger games series a long time ago, and i can't read it again bc reading finnick's death scene pains me (that's why I am writing this ff, to give him a deserved happy ending). also english is not my first language!

tw: canon typical violence, mentions of psychological distress, allusions to using someone for their body , reader is still a minor in this chapter!

word count: 1313

When a tribute from your district gets chosen, they are basically considered to be dead meat already. Sure, they have been some exceptions from this rule, but your District is nothing like 1, 2 or even 4; you consider the games stupid, preparation for them a waste of time that can be spend on being useful in the society. Honestly you cannot count how many times you have calculated the probability of being chosen and the outcome is the same every time - extremely low but unfortunately never reaching zero as you had to sign up a few times for extra food rations after your father's death.

Up until last year you have considered yourself to be lucky - born into a moderately wealthy family renewed for inventing long distance communication system prone to any hacker attacks from the rats living in the underground as your parents would often say. However, now your father was six feet under after a successful assassination attempt that your family never came to terms with. Maybe he knew too much or did not want to work in the Capital anymore, wanting to spend more time with his beloved wife and four daughters here in District 3, you learned that in this cruel system people never were free no matter how much were they valued. After your father has not came home that day as it was scheduled your mother screams became engraved into your head, as she was the first to realize that he was never coming back. This event was shortly followed by confiscation of property and your wealth came next and suddenly the explanation presented by the peacekeepers stopped making any sense.

"He died in an accident in the lab," they said. "Nothing could have been done to save him, the burns were too severe" or "he was overworking himself and did not notice that something was wrong until it was too late." For you it was just a pack of lies that no matter how many times were repeated could never be believed. After his unexpected death you had to move houses - from your comfortable middle class house you were transferred to the one of the crappiest regions in your District, to live in the overpopulated and cramped blocks that looked like they could collapse at any moment. You couldn't blame your mom for this, as she couldn't afford anything else given that you were evicted from the old home by force. It was now given to the new peacekeepers commander as more and more of them were transferred to your District. For that you could only blame the society that was in dismay and social uneasiness. Before you blamed them for rioting or going on strikes - your indoctrinated brain could not support them as you have been sheltered for the hardship they endured most of your life.

With time, gone were your beautiful baby blue dresses, cute ribbons you used to tie in your hair and perfectly manicured nails. Fortunately, what stayed with you were your eyes full of wonder and hunger for knowledge. After few years you simply realized that this kind of life was not worth of living, that's why you wanted to change your family's fate once again, that's why you began trying your best at school. Little did you realize your plans were to be cut short as your father's life.

Since last year and your father's passing you had to sign up for the extra rations every time you could, but you knew that other children have been doing it all their life. Having discussed it with your family you knew next year would be better - your mother has found a job at a factory and knowing her intelligence she could be counting on getting a promotion any time soon. Back then she only left her job to rise you and your sisters up. Your oldest sister Stella, having turned 21 this year could be considered as the sunshine of your family. You think of her to be the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and so do many peacekeepers as she often disappeared with them for the night. This has never stopped her from laughing and dancing every time she had occasion to. Your second sister, Diana can be described to be Stella's moon, with her habit of keeping everything to herself and you deem her to be mysterious and dark. Truely you can never understand her. She was spending an awful amount of time near the outskirts of the city recently and had a head full of dangerous ideas. She has already turned 18 thus safe from the upcoming reaping.

Then there was you, sharing some of both of your older sister's characteristics. You have been dreaming of being selected to train and work for the Capitol. You want to project useful devices just as your father did. While you don't trust them you like the money you could get out of it. If your family were ever to be happy again, this is the path you must follow. You imagine Stella being finally free and doing whatever she pleases instead of worrying about all of your wellbeing, Diana could find her happiness and live in her own house with three cats or more, dedicating all her time to writing and reading, mom and little Elena could go with you to the Capitol as you imagine yourself as an esteemed engineer. To be honest, you cannot accept another future ahead of you. It has to come true, there was no other way to save you all from drowning in this mess. At least you think so.

It was agreed some time ago that your sister Elena would never take part in the reaping. She was very different and it was painful obvious. She was a genius, her intelligence was indescribable, she has already skipped some classes at school. The problem was she could turn off at any moment and trap herself in her own world. You had to accompany her to school every time as she would more often than not lose her way when she was alone. She was lonely, you could tell that but had a heart of gold. If she were to go to the Games it would be like sending a lamb to a slaughter. You and your family could have not live with the thought that you have willingly signed her up for the reaping and could allow the evil of this world to take her.

You dreamed of working for the Capital, you could call yourself selfish but there was no other option. No chance to change your family's fate for the better, no opportunity to get Elena proper therapy. You believed that you had to accept the reality you were in and take the most out of it for you and your family. That's why when at the day before the reaping, deep in the night Diana asked you whether you would like to organize an escape for your family and you lashed out on her.

"Do you even think about the others?!" you asked, trembling "and then what? Die in the woods out of hunger, dehydration or of a wild animal attack? You want all of us to die one by one?" After that she looked at you with disbelief and said: "and you want to work for our father's killers?'"

You swallowed and was fighting the urge not to slap her.

"Yes that's what I want. I want to guarantee a stable income and therapy for Elena and not to die of a glorified suicidal death." You look at her with hatred in your eyes. "But you Diana, you do what you want."

She leaves and then you cry yourself to sleep.

NOTES:

i'm still figuring what my writing style is, maybe i will edit this chapter in the future or change forms of narration but as for now i want to go further with the story! see you soon <3

#finnick x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games

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socialistexan · 1 year

Text

Okay, so, like not to be *does a giggle and a gay little pose* super vulnerable on main, but like I really wish I could get FFS.

Like, I'm super excited about getting bottom surgery, it's amazingly going to be the first surgery I've gotten in my entire life (I see y'all's asks, yes my female presenting chest is just from hormones I come from a family of large chested women) and I would want to get it no matter what because, yeah, the situation going on down there is a major source of daily dysphoria.

But I don't look at that down there situation every time I look in a mirror or accidentally open my front camera or even think about the facial expression I have. I still feel like my face even with the changes it's had on HRT - and there have been some - is my biggest sources of dysphoria. It's the reason I feel like I can't go into public without and hour of makeup because I'll be immediately clocked and hatecrimed, or that I feel just a deep sadness that I never get to really see the self I know I am.

And, sure, I've gotten good enough at makeup to be in a place where I feel like I can actually see myself in the mirror the 2% of my life where I put it on, but the rest of the 98%? It still feels like a stranger's face. It still feels wrong. It still triggers that deep pain deep in my very soul that cries out in agony whenever it is so much as gestured at.

But I can barely afford bottom surgery, and that's only with the hope that my insurance will see all the doctor's and therpaist notes and waiting periods and psychiatrist visits and pain and years of hormones to know I'm really serious, and take mercy on me to cover it.

FFS has no chance of being covered. It's not a pipe dream it's a fucking fantasy. Crowd funding is so not an option. For bottom surgery or top surgery? Relatively easy, but FFS? My lord, so many people in the community look down on that I may as well be fundraising to donate to the We Kick Puppies foundation it feels like. I feel like it's not possible.

The base minimum is $20k. That's an impossible amount of money for me, it's more that my partners and I have and then some even with our triple incomes with no kids, and it only goes up in price from there. I can't drain my family's savings for my selfish needs. The guilt might crush me more than the dysphoria even if they said it was okay.

I just. I don't know what to do. Sometimes I can't even watch content from women who I know have gotten FFS because it just hits that exact hopelessness I feel about this.

So ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ oh well. I dealt with the dysphoria for decades, what's another 3-5 more.

#trans #transgender #trans woman #lgbtq #lgbt

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alarrytale · 4 months

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I have hundreds of ideas of how to keep fans engagement up without shitting on your fans or stunting. I have hundred of ideas of how to improve Louis' shows and get a more likeable image that attracts the gp.

Marte can you share some of this ideas? I would love to read them.

Hi, Louis' team!

I bet you would. You seem out of ideas and in need of free advice. I've talked about this many times before, over several asks. I'm going to give a few examples of the hundreds of ideas i have lol.

Know your audience/fandom and who you should spend your time catering to

It’s larries, females, 20-30 years old, former 1d stans. It's not chavs living in their mothers basement in Doncaster...

How to do it: Ditch the lad image, the athleisure wear, the toxic masculinity, the Liam Gallagher impersonation and the punk/anarchy/indie image and sound. Stop taking fan favourite songs off the setlist ffs. When you don’t know the lyrics of your songs or the order of the setlist, you can’t afford to change it up. Have one set list and learn it!

What to do instead: Cater to the 37 million followers that already know and love you. Find ways to engage them again. 1d nostalgia always works. Post an unseen pic from the 1d days. Start taking proper care of yourself! The grey's got to go. Make pop/rock songs that's radio friendly, choose the right singles (see the response of the fandom!), dress up for shows and occations (so we can drool and look forward to your outfit), be yourself on stage and interact more with the audience (bond with us!). Show us some personality. Dare to be sexy and show us your ankles! Spend more time showing your personality on social media. Start using tiktok. Make yourself look interesting. It doesn’t have to be much.

To attract the gp and keep your fans loyal you need to act professional

Know your lyrics, be on time, use transparent communication and keep your promises.

How to do it: When you say soon it should be soon, when you say the 28 of each month, that's once a month. When you cancel a leg of tour or change a show in the nick of time, say why it's being done and why it's done so late. Act your age. Don't sweep things under the carpet and let things go unaddressed if the fandom is reacting negatively.

What to do instead: The gp or concert reviewers attending shows will demand that you know your lyrics to have a good experience. So rehearse and keep to one setlist if you have truble remembering lyrics. Hell, use prompters if neccessary. Learn to apologise properly and heartfelt. If you can’t, hire people to do it for you. Nip discontent in the bud. Either distract from it, address it or apologise for it.

Trust is important

Read the room, don't lay blame on fans (it's never the fans fault), don't EVER shit on fans and don't make promises you can’t keep.

How to do it: Monitor fandom. Constantly. 24/7. Keep up with the discourse of the day, fandom reactions and discontent. Feel the fandom pulse so you'll know when the timing is right for announcements etc. You'll learn what needs to change and improve things to make the fandom thriving and content. A happy fandom = free engagement and promo.

What to do instead: If you need to remind people you have a kid and larry isn't real, do the heavy lifting yourself. Don't throw fans under the bus. Do a tabloid denial or post a pic of F and yourself. Don't say the queue system changed because you listen to fan demands. That's bullshit. Stop lying and be transparent. Don't say you love all your fans and call out conspiracy theorists in the same breath. Both can't be true at the same time.

Don't do PR relationships for promo. Bad press isn't good press. It's bad press that's harming your image and growth.

How to do it: Stop doing PR relationships with lesser celebs. No one is buying it. Everyone is laughing, and the only one remotely interested in taking you on are 10 years your junior. It won't give you the promo you need either. Stop shitting on larries for press. Larry talk will always get you press because it's tabloid, but don't do it on fans expense. Do a denial or an interview if you must.

What to do instead: Use platonic female friendships as promo. Go parachuting with Florence Pugh and call the paps or film the whole thing and post on social media. Go visit Perrie and walk your dogs together. It will help rid you of the toxic male image, get you press (two celebs for one) and make it seem like you have a life besides partying. Stop being antagonistic to journalists and hostile to fans on twitter. Start building a relationship and a bond of trust.

Bonus: Start doing charity again (openly), let us back in your life (even if it's fake. I want to know which colour you're considering for your kitchen walls), i want social commentary on social media (what does he think about spitgate, the number of bins in England, and if he'd ever queue for a Stanley cup). I also want (and need) him to speak up against genocide. He's got an anarchy tattoo. Have some balls. He'd get good press from it too and kudos from his target group and the gp. I also need him to tease us more. I want something he's got in the works to look forward too, something not stunt related. Is he signing up for Soccer aid again? Is he doing a big interview? Post some lyrics on twitter. Engage us. Make things exciting and encourage a positive environment. It's not that hard to improve things tbh. The bar is that low.

#looooooong post #long post #fandom #louis image #solo louis #lthq #tips for improvement #free advice

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bringcal · 5 months

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most shameful ask of my life. i would love to hear your analysis of nagito komaeda. you don't have to actually rant about him but know that there's people interested in hearing that

So, I do have an entire google document of my feelings about Nagito I wrote a few years ago, I never edited it, so maybe my feelings have changed, but I'm too lazy to research and think about it again. I made this because I feel like Nagito is never understood by the fandom, and most people just think hes a selfish asshole or completely hypocritical. Just a warning: this is 2k+ words long, and I will not provide screenshots of what i'm referencing ( Because again, i wrote this ramble years ago and am not in the fandom much anymore, so i can't be assed to do it). Anyways, have fun reading! (MAJOR SPOILERS)

NAGITO KOMAEDA, CONTROLLER OF SITUATIONS

Nagito consistently encourages the ultimates around him to create hope and talks about how useless he is but then acts like he is a crucial part to make hope. In the 5th trial, he attempts to kill everyone because he feels like he's the only person there who could create hope.. which in a way is technically true and I will talk about why later, and to many people this can be written off at a one time thing. ... but it keeps happening. As Servant, he manipulates the situation continuously and manipulates the kids into thinking he will be a help just so hope can get created, and he promises to make Monaca even worse than Junko just for hope. Even through his life as a student, he literally attempted to bomb the gymnasium because he didn't think a good hope could get created. He also tries to kill Junko to create hope because he feels like he can stop her. He takes control of every hope-creating situation that's accessible to him to the point that the people he's encouraging to create hope barely even have the option to be without him, which I don't even think he FULLY notices it's what he does. He brute forces his way into controlling every hope-making situation while saying it depends on everyone else.

I mean, I think even if he's full of hatred for himself, he tends to wish he wasn't, and these cravings of self importance leak through. I think he openly states this to Hajime. In his final message, he says " I should have never made fun of Hajime. Deep down, I always wanted to be a protagonist myself too. " Though lots of people took this as a final way to make fun of Hajime's yearning to be special, people tend to forget that even though Nagito can say very rude things, it is how he's communicating his feelings. His emotional communication often comes out in inappropriate ways, especially in a snarky attitude; and there's no doubt that Nagito sarcastically tormented Hajime in chapter 4, there's always some kind of truth hidden underneath his remarks and undoubtedly he's expressing his true feelings. So when speaking about how he wished he was a protagonist, It's not a complete "final kick" at Hajime.

Nagito is being sincere. He feels as though he wishes he felt like he's more important in his life, which is the hope and despair cycle. I mean, he literally asks them to call him the " Ultimate hope " right after ffs.

NAGITOS PERCIEVED ENDLESS LIFE CYCLE, AND CONNECTION TO HIS SELF ESTEEM

Though, I'm not done with that yet. I think that's only his feelings on how he wished he was like in his current time, struggling with his hope and despair cycle. Deeper down, He feels like he wished he didn't hate himself or overly love himself, and instead lived a normal life with no hope and despair cycle to bother him and full of people giving their love to him while he gives that love back.

We know this because of the anime episode dedicated to exploring his deepest desires and wants. World Destroyer AI tells him that he was on the deepest level of consciousness they went to, and everyone's deepest desires were higher up and they were already awake. Though I think this could be a reference to Nagito's sickly state of having cancer + dementia, I think it's more of a comment on how far he's pushed his truest desires down into himself.

Nagito crushed his OWN hopes, because he believes he's stuck the way he currently is. Supporting evidence would be both his monologues about hope among the common people, and also in the same episode he denies that what World destroyer AI saw in his consciousness is not what he wishes for at all, which is almost immediately confirmed to be a lie by AI. Backtracking on what I just said and expanding, we also see what Nagito's true desires are. He wants to have positive social connections with others, and he's tired of being by himself and not accepted for having out-there views. Even outside of this episode, this gets mentioned a LOT.. when Nagito gets the despair disease, and in his free time events. When he gets the despair disease Monokuma calls what he's having " liar disease " which though a very basic conclusion I dont think is completely accurate. Many of the things he says in his state weren't even lies, they were just outright gibberish that made no sense. I think it's a way of showing how Nagito feels when talking to people. No one has ever understood him his whole life, and it's extremely despairing to him. With his free time events, he admits that now that he's slowly dying he realized what he truly wants is someone's love. He quickly covers it up ( speculated it's because he saw Hajime started to empathize with him and wanted him not to, because anyone that gets close to him ends up having bad things happen to them due to his luck cycle ) and claims he just quoted a book.

Soo.. Why does Nagito hate himself? Why does he feel like no one likes him or no one should currently like him? His misfortune and traumatic past. Nagito's entire life, bad things happen to the ones he cares about, including himself. His dog died, his parents died, and he was kidnapped. He had absolutely no one. He says his mother never complimented him and the kidnapper realized he was useless so he threw him in a garbage bag. Everyone in his life saw him as useless growing up, and he feels like if someone did care about him, he'd cause them to die like the others. He can only fly on private jets because of this, because no one he's close to has a chance of dying on a plane like how his parents did.

WHAT HOPE AND DESPAIR MEANS IN DANGANRONPA

Okay now i wanna talk about Hope and despair in the Danganronpa universe and Nagito's relationship to it! So first of all we're going to have to define key descriptors of what hope and despair is in the danganronpa universe.

Hope: Absolute good, The future, the truth, talent, belief, and luck.

Despair: Absolute evil, Grief, hatred, anger, nihilism, unluck, also the truth, in some cases

Nagito's relationship with talent is actually very unique and directly linked to his view of true hope. Nagito believes people are born with their talents, you don't just develop them over time. I used to actually agree with him ( about talent within the danganronpa universe ) but Nagisa's backstory I think actually disproves this. Nagisa is the ultimate scholar, but that isn't because he's just naturally good. His father forced him to study almost 24 hours a day, lots of the time to study and see how much you can force such a child to study and excel until they break. This is not a natural development of talent at all, so talent is not something you're born with. I think he just thinks this because his talent is pretty supernatural with how it works and also a little self hatred over the fact he has a talent.

Nagitos talent is SO fucking weird. He's the 2nd ultimate luck we've gotten and his luck works in a way different way than how Makotos does. Nagito's luck happens in a cycle, meaning if he's lucky one time there will be something unlucky following it, with luck following after and so on. For example, when he was a child he went on a plane with his parents and someone hijacked the plane. That's unlucky. but then, a VERY asteroid conveniently showed up and hit their plane, killing the hijacker, which is pretty lucky. However, later his parents died because the asteroid sent them into a plane crash, which is unlucky. but AGAIN, he inherited tons of money because his parents were rich, which he considers to be pretty lucky.

Growing up, this cycle has led him into lots of traumatic situations, which made him more dependent on his good luck and hope. He constantly pieced luck + good together, with his personal experiences as reinforcements, which means luck and hope are together because hope is absolute good. This is a trauma response for Nagito, he's become so obsessed with hope that he will take any opportunity to try and create the most powerful hope everyone has ever seen. He thinks hope will save everyone, just like how it "saved" him every time he had a bad situation. He pretty much equates having bad luck to the common people , evident by his episode dedicated to himself. I don't really know why TBH with you. I just know he does by a bunch of examples in the games and episodes.

He has no control over his luck UNLESS he believes in it. Believing was how he pulled off most of the 5th trial and the final dead room. However, we know he does win games like rock paper scissors and tic tac toe every single time haha, even if he doesn't want to. He apologizes when he does. So the extent of control over his luck is believing in it. He has no control over his misfortune though, and it usually manifests in it hurting the people he loves sadly. So, it's safe to say Nagito's luck and misfortune cycle is linked to hope and despair . Believing in anything linked to hope makes it stronger as well.

Now here's where we get into Nagito's moral fucked up-ness. Nagito is extremely morally fucked, he will literally not hesitate to bomb a fucking school if it means stronger hope will arise. To him, hope is naturally stronger than despair, so any despair you create will be weaker than the hope that overcomes it. This is why he appears almost not brainwashed at all by Junko and has ulterior motives against everyone else when coming apart from the ultimate despair.

Nagito still LOVES hope, and hes willing to literally help with genocide because hes so convinced that an even more powerful hope will overcome it. He's never afraid to offer himself up to die for hope. He pretty much controls every room he's in and purposely makes it harder for everyone because he either 1. is testing to see how hopeful they all are and/or 2. making the situation more despairing for hopes sake.

Because he values talent so strongly, he thinks that since talented people are born that way, anyone who is not talented only purpose is to submit themselves as a target for despair so every ultimate can use it as a stepping stone for a bigger hope. To him, someone with no talent's natural level of hope in them is very small and weak compared to someone with talent. A group of common folks hope just will not suffice to create a future filled with absolute good. Though Nagito only considers his talent an actual talent depending on when he actually needs it. He thinks luck is pretty worthless, but when it's for hope, it's worth a lot. He never thinks that ultimate luck is as low as non-talented people on the ‘hope scale’ though.

I’d also like to add there’s like multiple ways you can achieve the label of ultimate hope. Makoto, who has ultimate luck defeated Junko who's the ultimate despair, so he's now considered the ultimate hope. In the dr universe the ultimate hope is like the highest rank of ultimate you could EVER be. Izuru Kamukura is also the ultimate hope, but this is because he has every single talent in existence and he's considered a godlike entity.

Random add on, Difference n samesies between Nagito and Hajime

I was just thinking of sames n differences between nagito n hajime n i just think its very interesting their like... characters are showcasing the same thing but different versions of it. they both know very well the harshness of the concept of talent in the danganronpa universe n find different ways to cope with it, yet they still fall under the same category of "losing yourself entirely" ... Hajime does this in a Very obvious way, since he literally signs himself up for a life altering surgery that he knew very well would completely get rid of himself. He knew he would disappear, but he did not like himself so much that he would rather have disappeared for talent. However, with Nagito, he does this in another way... he is absolutely obsessed with talent, but except for feeling bad about himself for not being " as talented” ( even though ultimate luck is arguably the most interesting talent in the whole franchise ) he accepts this. He accepts he is seen as worthless unlike Hajime, and he uses this to help bring more hope. he Tries to get people to kill him for hope ALL THE FUCKING TIME, until he eventually decides to do it himself when he finds out everyone is despair. he decides to become the savior for hope and talent. Hajime submits to talent and hope, while Nagito completely dominates the concept.

In conclusion, Nagito Komaeda is a character who hates the cycle he believes he’s been subjected to, but also thinks it is the most useful tool. He hates his life and wants a different one, but doesn’t think it is possible, so he attempts to find self-worth and satisfaction in something that is possible: helping to create hope for the future of humankind.

What if I said that Nagito's luck cycle isn't even real? In a way, because his belief is such a strong force to his luck's effectiveness, maybe the only reason this cycle hes in exists is because he believes its true. Maybe he could have a normal life if he believed in it, but his life long misfortune has cemented this outlook in his mind too much. This is why I think Makoto x Nagito is the healthiest choice for Nagito but that's a rant for another time. ;3

#nagito komaeda #askies

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yeehanfrf · 1 year

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Week 13 Recs: It's about the Yearning

Week 13's theme was "It's about the yearning," or fics with an emphasis on pining, mutual or otherwise.

Behind the cut, you'll find the recs gathered from the Yeehan community, organized by rating and then alphabetically by title!

Not Rated

This Year by CommonNonsense [8,835 words] Reccer comment: "extra cute, deliciously drawn out stuck-together-in-a-cabin pining"

The holidays are not kind to those on their own. Hanzo, at least, has never been overly invested in this time of year--but McCree, as he often does, changes things, and when a mission sees them snowed in together on Christmas Eve, there is no way to avoid it.

General Audiences

It Ain't Easy by KittenzCaboodle [29,426 words]

It’s St. Patrick’s day and Hanzo does not have a green shirt to wear.

This is not ideal.

On his quest to borrow one and properly join in on the planned celebration at the base, both he and Cole reminisce about how life has changed since Hanzo joined Overwatch. -

Fic written for YeeHan Week 2022!

Teen and Up

Dreamlike by mataglap [4,063 words] Reccer comment: "I FOUND IT!! there's a surprising amount of dream kiss fics"

Hanzo is used to bad dreams, and he never would have expected that a good dream would end up haunting him the most.

Flowers Like Ashes by NoirSongbird [8,266 words] Reccer comment: "Hanahaki, rated teen! There be angst 👀"

The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. Hanzo Shimada is desperately in love with Jesse McCree -- the flower petals he coughs up whenever McCree so much as looks his way are plenty of evidence of that. It is unfortunate, then, that McCree utterly despises him.

Hiraeth by robocryptid [11,947 words]

After discovering that the mercenary Reaper is his old commander and mentor, Cole takes some time to get his head on straight. Hanzo refuses to let him do it alone.

Or: the author gives Cole Cassidy the kind of feelgood, big emotions, rite-of-passage road trip usually imagined for American teenagers, except this time it's for two grown-ass vigilante murder dudes.

Just Once by Vimeddiee [2,534 words]

Cole dreams that he’s kissing someone.

Sweet Dreams by Dracoduceus [5,134 words]

Hanzo’s dreams started to leak into reality and it becomes harder and harder to deal with, especially with his unresolved feeling toward Cassidy.

Tell Me by Akiko_Natsuko [27,728 words] Reccer comment: "pretty okay ff with past blackwatch Cass/Scion Hanzo"

They had me years before, a fling that had ended without names being exchanged and with an unspoken farewell. Hanzo had never expected to find the Cowboy again, let alone on the day he joined Overwatch. And he was unprepared for the fact that the man that he had never managed to forget, was unable to recognise him the day he finally gave Cassidy his name.

Unaddressed by robocryptid [11,100 words] Reccer comment: "the first chapter is amazing"

He gave twelve years of his life to the original Overwatch. He’s seen dozens of MIA cases, investigated more than a few of them himself. It’s not new. It’s just that now the organization’s so small; it makes it feel a lot more personal.

Winston gave the order. He can’t argue with the logic that he’s the one whose background best fits this particular task. But it was Genji asking him directly — trusting him with this in a way he knows it’s hard for Genji to trust — that made him agree to it.

So he rummages through Hanzo’s desk in search of anything that could help.

Undisclosed Desires by Calardes [12,751 words]

An unexpected dream forced Hanzo to reassess his relationship with a certain cowboy.

Now he could think of little else but how much he wanted to kiss him.

Wake-up Call by fishpoets [2,149 words] Reccer comment: "Love realization"

Falling in love is deceptively simple. Admitting it is trickier.

Mature

All the Little Pieces by KittenzCaboodle [57,890 words]

Cole Cassidy had not known peace ever since Hanzo Shimada had been thrust into his life, but - with some "time" - realizes that maybe it's not so bad having him around.

In fact, maybe it was always meant to be.

Foxhole Dreaming by fishpoets [18,569 words] Reccer comment: "And there was only one bed"

After Hanzo and McCree are ambushed on an undercover mission and McCree is injured, they need to hide out in a secret bunker that McCree knows of while they wait to be rescued. The prospect of a few days in close-quarters alone with McCree wouldn't be a problem, except for one thing: Hanzo's feelings for the gunslinger don't stop at friendship.

i could love you (for the rest of my life) by fwop [3,494 words] Reccer comment: "Oh. *Oh*"

“--if you had just listened to me for once, instead of running off--”

He’s gesturing wildly with his hands, more expression on his face than Jesse ever thought he’d see, more expression than Hanzo would ever like to show (if he had his way). He probably hasn’t even realized what he looks like right now. Instead, he’s doing his level best to cuss Jesse from one end to the other. He’s spittin’ mad.

Oh.

Source of Light by YourAverageJoke [WIP; 10,745 words] Reccer comment: "unfinished but still sweet"

Hanzo wonders if perhaps he had realized it before. Cassidy has been a constant in his life lately, a steady presence he isn’t even ashamed to admit he’s more than a little fond of. It certainly explains how he ended up here; it had seemed natural, after having sat on his bed for hours, staring into the cold, dark abyss of insomnia, to seek out his favourite source of light, especially after he had spent almost two weeks in its constant glow.

Sharing a bed trope with a small twist, some insecurities, lots of sap, and a happy ending.

Explicit

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by KittenzCaboodle [34,828 words] Reccer comment: "18+ and one of my favorites"

The man first in line for the Shimada throne was the last picture that Cole had been given to memorize. Hanzo Shimada. They had said it was unlikely that he would be sent, as he was too important for such menial tasks, but he was the next likely candidate according to Genji.

He gazed longingly towards the door, aching to step outside and get a fresh breath of the cool night air. As he silently grumbled about the sweat rolling down his back, the bodies grinding against each other in the club making the place hot and steamy in all the wrong ways, he saw him.

Of all the people in the world, Hanzo Shimada, the worst possible person, had just walked through the door and was putting their entire Blackwatch mission at risk.

Somehow, Cole had to distract him long enough to for Genji to get out, and he was willing to do whatever it takes, even if he was caught between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea.

But when the Devil buys you dinner and is one of the nicest people you've ever met, then things get confusing.

Crossing Stars by ceasefire [3,488 words] Reccer comment: "Young angsty yeehan has my heart forever"

Hanzo Shimada sneaks out to meet his lover with the help of his brother. Unfortunately, it seems that this will be the last time that they will see one another, and Hanzo decides to throw caution to the wind and do what he really wants for a change.

Not That I'm Complaining by robocryptid [28,981 words] Reccer comment: "I've only read this about a hundred million times, no big uwu"

An AU in which both Shimadas join Blackwatch, and Cole Cassidy falls in love dick first. Approximately 50/50 porn to feelings.

Tell Me Yer Name by kylar [23,161 words] Reccer comment: "YOUNG ANGSTY YEEHAN HAS MY HEART FOREVER"

Hanzo escapes the castle for a breath of fresh air following a particularly difficult day with the clan, and finds one in a mysterious, handsome American cowboy that instantly earns Hanzo's attention. Hanzo knows from subtle clues that his presence in Hanamura could mean trouble for his clan and himself, but that doesn't stop him from carrying on a secret affair with the charming cowboy. It's just a fling though, and he knows it will end eventually. He'll be able to put the cowboy behind him and continue on with his responsibilities and duties to the Shimada Clan. Little does he know, it won't be that easy, and the cowboy's short presence in his life will have a dramatic and devastating impact on everything that is to follow their little affair.

to lie down with dogs by motorghost [65,540 words] Reccer comment: "This is one of my favorite fics in this fandom. I really like the character dynamic here."

Hanzo and Cole are on a top-secret reconnaissance mission in the industrialized wasteland of post-Crisis North Dakota, hunkered down in a factory ill-fit for human occupation. Cole seems fine with the situation, but Hanzo's doubts extend far beyond their little room.

To Share (Cake) is to Care by spinel [4,679 words] Reccer comment: "funny pining with an extra hilarious dose of obliviousness"

“Howdy, Hanzo.” McCree smiles sunnily. “I'm guessin' Athena didn't give you a heads up. My quarters—all of Wing 3's quarters are flooded. Angela's with Genji, Lena's in Angela's room, Lúcio and Hana are in the break room, Torbjörn and Reinhardt both snore like you wouldn't believe, Zenyatta's in Genji's room, and Athena won't let me use the training room for a nap.”

It takes a moment, but then Hanzo's eyes narrow. “Athena told you I had a futon.”

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And that's it for the Week 13 recs! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a recommendation.

If you happen to find a fic you love using this rec list, be sure to leave the author kudos and a comment! Even "I found this fic because someone recced it" is a lovely thing to say.

Come back next time for Week 14: "Mermaid for Each Other," celebrating MerMay with mermaid and other sea creature fics.

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 12 recs here, or check the full list of past and future themes here.

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Curious about the icon and some of the fic titles? This rec blog supports #EndOTWRacism, a fan campaign asking the AO3 to make good on its 2020 promises to address racist harassment on the site. Fans of color deserve to feel safe and welcome in fan spaces. To learn more, please visit @end-otw-racism and read their Call to Action.

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