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blockgamepirate · 2 months

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This is my petty complaint time, this video annoys me SO MUCH and even more so what annoys me is that the latest comment on it is this:

HE TAUGHT YOU SO MUCH BULLSHIT, PLEASE NO, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM

And yes, I've been thinking about this stream for nearly three years now, I've been meaning to go through it to critique Wilbur's arguments, I just never got around to it

Wilbur: "Tubbo, you've created an anti-state capitalist dystopia"

So all Tubbo had explained so far was that his town had a big company that owned two other big companies. Nothing about the government or anything. It's true that one company owning all the major businesses is pretty dystopian, sure, but I have no idea where Wilbur got the "anti-state" thing from, usually capitalist companies are fine with the existence of states, states do a lot of dirty work for the capitalists

Spoiler alert: Tubbo's city turns out to be pretty much a city state so Wilbur is just wrong anyway, not that he ever acknowledges it even when it does come up

Also it's not like corporate acquisitions are completely unheard of in the UK, as far as I know. Admittedly the UK is also arguably a capitalist dystopia but you know what I mean, the concept shouldn't be all that shocking to Wilbur

He's being so dramatic and trying to make it sound like he's caught Tubbo in a mistake or something. He also keeps asking questions and then not letting Tubbo answer properly before taking like one word Tubbo says and running with it

But this is the one that I find the most obnoxious:

T: "I did some research into like economics and stuff and I discovered this thing called UBI, have you heard of it?"

W: "What's it stand for?"

T: "Universal Basic Income"

W: "Yeah, I know about that"

He clearly does not know what UBI is.

It becomes very apparent very quickly:

W: "So you've got universal basic income but then also the rich exist still?"

T: "Yeah! Yeah they do."

W: "How does that come about then,"

T: "So in my mind--"

W: "is this universal basic income different for different people?"

T: "No, no, the universal basic income is better for everyone, just the people who have--"

W: "In order for there to be a 1% that means someone's earning more,"

T: "Yes, someone is earning more"

W: "but that means the universal basic income isn't universal!"

T: "No no no, not everyone's getting paid the same but everyone gets the same to begin with, okay? But then you can build on top of it."

W: "Oh no, you've got a-- Tubbo, you've got a fucking social point system!"

T: "Have I made a social point system??"

W: "Tubbo, you've made China!"

None of what Wilbur says makes ANY sense here. The only explanation I can think of is that he didn't know what UBI was, made an assumption that it just meant "everybody gets paid the same amount of money" or something like that and then just spoke fast enough that Tubbo couldn't correct him

Tubbo is correct here, Tubbo knows what he's talking about, but he can't out-speak Wilbur who is just throwing so much bullshit out of his mouth that there's no time to even respond

So, UBI means that everyone in the society gets a regular payment of a specific amount of money that's the same for everyone regardless of their life situation (and generally a requirement would be that it has to be enough to live on, altho people do like to water this down a lot...) This would be completely irrelevant to your wages or salary or capital gains. You can choose to either live on the UBI or you can just do the regular capitalist things to earn extra money on top of the UBI

Obviously I'm not one of those people who think that UBI would solve all of world's problems, I mean I am an anarchist and all (and not an ancap either), but it's literally just a very streamlined welfare system. That's all. It would probably be a lot better than the current models we have but it's not fundamentally different. There's nothing particularly weird about it, the point is just to make sure that everyone has enough money to live on, in every other regard it's just normal capitalism

Wilbur completely misunderstands the whole thing (because, again, he does not know what UBI is so he's just trying to imagine what it might mean based on what Tubbo is saying) and jumps immediately to something he apparently has heard of, which is the Chinese social credit system, which has nothing to do with UBI. In fact I'm pretty sure it also doesn't actually have anything to do with income either, or at least not directly, so I don't think Wilbur knows what the social credit system is either

He's literally just talking in buzzwords

Like if you actually wanted to make a leftist critique of Tubbo's city, you could, don't get me wrong. But instead Wilbur keeps insisting that he's made a social point system despite Tubbo trying to explain why it's not that at all

Wilbur just keeps yelling over Tubbo until his own chat turns against him and finally Tubbo himself also kinda gives up

And from there Tubbo also kinda just starts playing into the bit and just lets Wilbur direct the whole conversation, the rest of it is just them getting more and more into the roleplay. Wilbur keeps talking about the state pension plan, even though Tubbo already tried to explain that it's part of the UBI (this actually is how UBI is supposed to work, it does indeed streamline most of the welfare spending! Obviously you can still raise questions about that (I can think of a few at least) but Wilbur didn't let Tubbo explain so I have no idea what Tubbo actually had in mind)

I could try to go through all of what Wilbur says here but it's just too much, so maybe some other time. Although to be honest there are so many other streams that I probably should talk about instead that some fans unfortunately took a bit too seriously because they assumed Wilbur knew what he was talking about

My point here is mainly that just because someone sounds really confident and knows a bunch of buzzwords doesn't mean they know what they're talking about.

#wilbur soot #tubbo #this is literally just petty grumbling #not a serious post #altho i do genuinely hope that people reconsider all the things they've 'learned' from wilbur

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levmada · 7 days

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//gn!reader, injury??, idk why im like this

“Jus’ breathe, it’s going to be okay, it’s okay, be okay, it’s going to be okay.”

You think, even the white walls of the nurse’s station around you are as pale as Levi’s face is right now. He lays as uncompromising as a board, on his back, with panting hissing through his nose despite laying stationary.

You clutch his hand, which is positively wet with sweat while Hange, Nifa, and Moblit work behind you, over his lower leg. Lucky it was a flesh wound, but unlucky that they’re working on removing a hook from a pair of ODM gear.

“Going to be okay…” you mutter. “Levi.”

You can’t be sure he’s even hearing you; his gaze is perfectly locked on your face, but his eyes are glazed over by a film of deep dissociation.

Plenty of times you’ve seen corpses—his eyes look a little like those. But even still, it’d be hard to think of him worse than badly under the weather if it wasn’t for the reality of the situation bearing down on your heartbeat.

When a shaky breath tries to hiss through his teeth, Levi clenches his jaw, and is quiet.

You wish he had just accepted the numbing Hange all but yelled for him to take. Even under so much distress and impaled with a metal hook, Levi found it in himself to argue.

It’ll make me slow, he growled. Keep that shit away from me, do you hear me?

A part of you clinging haplessly onto any form of comfort tells you that he can still accept it if it gets worse.

“Okay, Nifa, Moblit, slowly.”

His eyes blow wide open, but then all at once squeeze shut as the metal leg on the pram squeaks, warped by his white-knuckled grip on it.

Why do you always have to be so stubborn??

His sudden grip on your hand makes your expression twist from the pain, but which immediately strikes you as a privilege at this point.

You make up for it with more muttered reassurances.

“Okay, break.”

You and Nifa let up on his hip, Hange on his knee. You hear a hushed, bordering-on silent whimper. He turns his head to the side, with a cringe ever-present twisting his face.

Hange calls your name. “How’s he doing?”

“Okay, considering.“

It’s a testament to the pain he’s in for Levi not to speak for himself.

Taking a wet cloth from the white prop-up table beside his head, you start to wipe the sweat off, and stroke his hair down, knowing he finds the motions calming.

The break lasts a few extra seconds than every other since you started.

“Almost done?” you ask Hange, without taking your eyes off of Levi.

“The homestretch.”

He sucks in a soft breath through his teeth.

“Almost done,” you whisper to him. “It’s almost over, sweetheart.”

He briefly opens his eyes into slits to look at you before closing them as Hange starts counting down. Nifa, Hange, and you, bear down on his leg to hold him still. Your other hand is getting numb.

No one speaks, but it’s impossible to miss the sharp shift in the room as Moblit resumes removing the hook—Levi screws his eyes shut and covers his mouth with his arm, which has tremors shaking throughout.

“Breathe slowly,” you remind him quietly, maneuvering your held hands so his arm rests over his eyes instead. But you realize why he did it at all when a whimper passes his lips, joined by the heavy breathing he was silencing before.

It hits you right then—the shock of seeing Levi in the throes of too much pain to cover up with a mask of indifference. Sometimes, even you forget that he can bleed. Your eyes are wide.

His pallor is worse than shiny spoiled milk when—and you hadn’t noticed his back before—his back lowers to the table, followed by the clink of something metal dropping onto a pan. The hook. He deflates slowly as you give his hand a proud squeeze.

“All done,” Hange announces, with a softness seemingly reserved for Levi’s part.

“Done,” you repeat softly to him, dabbing away sweat from his temples again.

His eyes close into slits, with a dry mumble, “Really, didn’ notice…”

Hange orders Nifa and Moblit to start cleaning up and bandaging. Irrelevant words and sounds.

One thing. You hear sticky latex as Hange strips off what you see of their bloody gloves on approach.

You rub his shoulder as he goes to cover his eyes again. But Hange keeps their distance, instead sending you a meaningful look that asks you to follow.

Taking a fresh wet cloth from Moblit, you dab his temple. “Levi, I’ll be right back. I have to debrief them.”

“...Alright,” he mutters, like he wants to convince you otherwise but it took a great deal of energy just to say that.

"I'll be right back." You squeeze his hand a final time and kiss his forehead before finally getting to your feet. You feel each individual red, angry crescent-moon shaped mark etched into your hand before you bother to glance as you step out into the hall after Hange.

While debriefing them on what happened, you keep your arms crossed. An accident, of course, but an insanely stupid one. You warn them that Levi will try to blame himself for getting pierced with a poorly-aimed ODM hook mid-air. A reckless recruit did it.

“I hear you. Well”—they tear off their glasses to wipe their face, snapping a sigh—“the important part’s over now. As long as Shorty’s okay, we’re all okay, right?”

“I’ve never seen him like that…”

Their eyes soften. “I know… But I’m surprised he wasn’t screaming. He might as well have been sleeping like a baby through it.”

That stuns you into wide-eyed silence, with the ensuing wave of fondness for Levi gripping your chest, threatening to make you crumble. It’s a uniquely kind pain.

“Can I go be with him?” you ask in a small voice.

They nod you away.

Levi masterlist | main masterlist

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you #levi ackerman drabble #levi drabble #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot fanfiction

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hitomisuzuya · 4 months

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hihi suzu!

(not smut request)

thinking about cuddling with harbinger!scara because it’s the holidays and it’s so cold outside!🥹 even if he’s a little grumpy and doesn’t understand the point of the holiday, he’ll cave in and spoil reader regardless

happy holidays, if you celebrate !!

Harbinger!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Fluffy fluff fluff.

Harbinger Scara😌 I love writing fluff. It's pretty relaxing for me. Scara has a soft side, you just gotta squint and turn your head a certain way, but it's most def. there. Happy Holidays!

Scaramouche was staring. Staring hard at the Christmas tree. He didn't understand why someone would put a tree in their house. Trees grew outside. And why only a tree on this specific holiday?

Christmas all and all absolutely boggled his mind. He could get you presents whenever he wanted (he did that a lot already), so what made Christmas so extra special when it would be him giving you gifts like he normally would? He still put the same thought into it, the holiday was irrelevant. (Or Valentine's Day for that matter?)

But you sure seemed to like it. Scaramouche would put a stupid tree in the house every year (or whenever you wanted) just to see that way you smiled when you decorated it. Though hell would freeze over before said that he actually enjoyed decorating the tree to outloud.)

If Christmas meant something to you, then it would mean something to him. He would..tolerate it for your sake.

You picked your head up from his chest to look at him. He was looking at the Christmas tree with the same grumpy contemplation. You knew you had to appease him, so you did.

"You know, we never would've found out about the bulb that was out in the Christmas lights if you hadn't shocked them into lighting before we even plugged them in," You smiled up at him, "that was pretty amazing, Scara."

The grumpy look on Scaramouche's face changed from grumpy to one of smug pride. Oh, please go on. He knew how great he was. "Well naturally, I figured that would be the easiest way to tell," He replied, resting your head back on his chest.

Well actually, it was more like he'd accidentally shocked the cord thinking about how dumb putting lights on a tree were, and how also it was a fire hazard.

You'd been tucked under his arm for awhile now, curled up on the couch in front of the Christmas tree. If you liked to looked at it when it snowed, then he would look at it with you. It was actually quite relaxing for him to hold you like this and watch the snow fall.

"I think I am going to make some hot chocolate. Do you want any?" You asked.

"No," Scaramouche scoffed, but then his eyes softened a little. "But, I got you more of those small marshmallows you like to put in yours."

You nodded, smiling at him as you moved to get off the couch. Scaramouche immediately brought you back against him with his arm.

"This first," He said, tilting your head. He didn't mean to be so curt with you. So to make up for it, he decided to indulge you in another silly holiday tradition.

There was Mistletoe hanging from the ceiling above you. Scaramouche leaned in and gave you softest, most passionate kiss. It stole the breath right from your lungs.

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #scaramouche #soft scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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mindfulstudyquest · 26 days

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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗽𝗿𝗼 𝘁𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮'𝘀

having good grades doesn't necessarily mean you're smart, a test or exam can't always determine someone's intelligence, but it's academic validation we crave, right? so here are some tips thanks to which you will get straight a's.

𝟭. understand what the professor wants ( 🪼 )

learning the entire book by heart is tiring and basically useless. we take our education seriously, but it's impossible to know everything about everything, so inevitably there will be topics we can gloss over. check old tests, listen to the teacher during the lecture, talk to students who have already attended the course and passed the exam. understand which aspects your professor particularly cares about and concentrate on those, your exam will certainly go well.

𝟮. strengthen your memorization ( 🦋 )

very often the amount of things to study is just too much and, even though you spend all day in the library rereading the topics again and again, you feel that it is not enough. you get confused, you forget steps, you get lost in the labyrinth of the subject. investing in understanding your form of memorization will benefit you in the long run. identify your type of memory (spatial, photographic, echoic, etc.) and focus on how to improve it. having a good memory will make your studying for the exam much faster and easier.

𝟯. pay attention in class ( 🫧 )

attend all lectures and take notes. much of your studying comes from your professor's lecture. underline the important things in your textbook, carefully follow their speech and - if there are any - their powerpoint slides, writing only the things that the teacher adds and which are not written either in the book or in the extra material, if necessary, record the lesson so you can listen to it again at a later time.

𝟰. organize your notes the same day ( 🧃 )

when i take notes in class i write badly and quickly to keep up with the teacher, shortening words or omitting passages. by reorganizing your notes that same evening (at most the next day, if you really don't have time) you can revise your work when the lesson is still fresh in your mind; if you wait too long, you will forget most of the things and you will find yourself staring blankly at pages of notes which, at that point, will seem more like hieroglyphics to you than anything else.

𝟱. use ai responsibly ( 🪴 )

artificial intelligence is everywhere nowadays and why not use it to our advantage? of course i'm not suggesting that you let an ai take care of all your tests and essays, it wouldn't make sense, however very often it helped me make a list of key points to develop in a research paper, or gave me excellent ideas and insights for projects. they can also be used to create flashcards, summarize and simplify articles, or create practice tests based on the material you will have to study.

𝟲. delve deeper into your “whys” ( 🌾 )

sometimes when i study i stare into space and wonder why i am studying something that seems completely irrelevant to my path. i'm sure it happens to you too, don't ignore this feeling. don't be afraid to explore themes and topics that aren't clear to you, if two statements seem contradictory ask yourself why, if you don't understand some passages, don't be afraid to ask a question. we study for ourselves, before studying to graduate, to work. there is no shame in not understanding, your intelligence lies in striving to clarify what seems obscure.

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qlossytbh · 15 days

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𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 after a long day working on a specific murder case, all you want is to do was fall asleep, next to your boyfriend.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 fluff fluff and more fluff (i know the title is suggestive but there is no filf here) established relationship, brief mention of insecurity (spencer’s side), general talk of murder and cases

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.4k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 started criminals minds and i fear this man is gonna push me down a rabbit hole. im half-way season two so this fic is kinda inspired on season 2 spence

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been a long day. To start off, you had been called in early at six in the morning, due to an emergency that required your presence. You spent all day talking to witnesses, finally being able to establish a profile of the serial killer you were all hunting down.

You were utterly exhausted. You hadn't been sleeping entirely well, being kept up by nightmares regarding the current case and since it had been an eventful day, not only were you physically tired but mentally as well. What you were all currently dealing with wasn't the most brightening topic, which caused your energy to be drained quickly. Your body begged for a nap and so did your brain.

Since the serial killer was attacking through the city of New York, you and the BAU team were being situated at some random hotel while you stayed the week in order to get some advances on the case. The end of your shift was intended to be around seven thirty, but Hotch asked you to stay behind and help JJ with a few files along with Morgan. Being the person and colleague you were, you agreed without protest.

Those extra two hours were even longer with the never ending teasing of Morgan. Which varied from anything to everything, you knew how Morgan was. Being one of the youngest members on the team, he called dibs on the big brother role, which included the full package deal. Teasing, over-protectiveness, all of it.

It was now ten PM as you walked into the hotel lobby with him and JJ, chatting endlessly about some irrelevant topic your head couldnt entirely latch onto. Your heels were pulsating and you desperately needed to stretch out your back since it was incredibly cramped due to being hunched over for so long. You grimaced as you put a hand on your lower-back.

"Don't tell me you're getting back problems. At your age?" Morgan started. You glared up at him.

"No, these hotel mattresses are utter crap and I slept in some weird position last night." You looked over at the secretary that was eyeing you, unamused. You winced, feeling embarrassment seep into your chest as Morgan and JJ snickered quietly beside you. You smiled awkwardly and waved politely.

"Looks like someone's past their bedtime" He said patting your head. You glared and swatted his hand away.

"I'm not gonna even fight you on that since all I want to do right now is sleep." JJ checked her watch and elbowed Morgans side.

"We should probably go get some rest too," She stated, pointing her head in the opposite direction of the lobby. The room distribution had been messed up upon arrival, leaving half of the team on the left side of the building and the others on the right. "You need Morgan to walk you to your room?"

"I think I can make it to the second floor," You shook your head, laughing to yourself. "But thanks tough guy. Besides, Reids probably still up waiting for me."

They nodded to themselves and with one final goodbye, headed off to their rooms in the other direction. You turned and made your way to the elevator. Once inside, you closed your eyes and sighed heavily. Your head was pounding and your legs desperately begged you to stop moving them.

The elevator came to a stop and you pushed yourself off the wall, waiting for it to open. Once it did, the eerie setting of the empty hallways settled in. Of course your job was bound to leave you with an unsettling feeling of being alone, but you weren't going to ever live down letting Morgan walk you to your room. You quickly made your way to the door of the hotel room you shared with Spencer, slipping the keycard out your back pocket and opening the door.

Once inside, you slid off the heavy coat that hung on your shoulders and hung it on the rack near the door. You heard the sheets shuffling in the room. "Y/N?"

"Hey Spence," You said, walked into the hallway and leaning against the wall that pointed towards the room. "It's me."

You took a look at the sight in front of you and smiled happily, knowing only you had the pleasure of seeing Spencer like this. His back was propped up against the headboard, hairs flying across his forehead showing the contrast between his usual somewhat tamed hair. He had his glasses on and some book he had decided to read in his hand, allowing the small bulb of the nightstand lamp to give him some light to be able to see. You smiled his way tiredly as he looked over at you, setting his book down.

"You're back late," He stated. You let your head drop as you laughed.

"Me, JJ and Morgan were at those files longer than expected, I'm exhausted." You said. He patted the spot next to him.

"Then come sleep," You pushed yourself off the wall.

"I will, let me change and I'll be right with you,"

You turned and grabbed your cotton shorts and long sleeved shirt you usually used to sleep in. Some would debate the actual benefits of sleeping in shorts in New York winter were zero to none. Spencer had done so the first night you arrived, giving you all the reasons it wasn't beneficial and how likely you were to catch a cold. You fought back by explaining how you hated sleeping in long pants, you always had, no matter how cold it was. Besides, his body temperature was enough to heat up the whole bed, which was another beneficial reason to wearing shorts to sleep. Why avoid the cold when you had your very own personal human heater?

You looked at yourself in the mirror, failing to avoid the bags that were beginning to appear beneath your eyes. You quickly slipped off your turtleneck, sweater and jeans and put on your sleeping clothes. Once done, you left the bathroom, turning off the lights and closing the door behind you. As you made your way to Spencer's side of the bed, you pulled your hair out of the low bun it sat in.

When you began climbing into bed, Spencer threw the duvet cover backward, allowing you to climb in and rest yourself soundly between his legs, laying your head against his chest.

The comfortable surface of his sturdy yet soft chest was way more comfortable than the mattress, you just hoped you weren’t squishing him. The silence that surrounded the two of you was enough to put you to sleep in that very moment.

Spencer tossed his book onto the nightstand, slipping his glasses off his face as he quickly turned his attention to you. You placed your palms flat against his chest and rested on your chin, allowing yourself to look up at him with a tired smile.

"Hi." You said. He reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling down at you with his infamous dopey smile.

"Hi," He said back, smile growing wider. "Were those extra two hours hard to sit through?"

"Don't even," You groaned. "You were so lucky Hotch didn't grab you to help with those files. You also have no idea how jealous I am of the fact that you've been lying in bed since eight,"

He stared at you empathetically, letting his hand linger around your face, tracing patterns on your jaw while you looked up at him with big tired eyes. "Jealous of me? Being able to lay in these mattresses?"

You giggled. "Thats true, you're much more comfortable."

He let him thumb linger across your cheek, looking across your face lovingly. You closed your eyes and basked in the comfort of his gaze.

You and Spencer had been dating for over a year now. The two of you met when you became part of the BAU not long after he had started. Initially, you had gotten along so well in the begging due to how close the two of you were in age, but then it started shifting into something beyond that.

Every second spent with him would make you feel at peace. Working in the FBI had always felt so loud, but since you started working alongside Spencer, things became a little more quiet and less stressful. You loved spending time with him, and becoming best friends with him wasn't something that took long. You two were very similar after all. Before you knew it, you started seeing him outside of work, weekends, the majority of time was spent beside him.

It took a while for him to make a move, given since he wasn't the most socially outgoing person. It didn't take long for him to become your friend, but the second the two of you realized things were moving beyond a friendship, he'd become a rambling mess in the matter of seconds by just sharing a simple conversation with you. You found it extremely endearing realizing how much of an effect you had on him.

It took time but eventually, as your relationship began and you started spending time with each other in different ways, and getting to know each other on more of a romantic level. With time, he got more comfortable with himself and your growing relationship.

You gave him boost of confidence that no one else was able to cause. And slowly falling in love with him was probably one of the best things you've gone through.

Spencer leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips, savoring any and every second he could with you. You sighed happily into the kiss, sensing how all your muscles began resting at his touch, how your body began feeling featherlike.

You pulled away, pecking his lips two more times just for desperate measures. "I missed you."

He hummed, placing a small kiss on your forehead before allowing his hands to travel down the side of your ribcage and onto your back. You hummed lowly, letting your eyes flutter close as you let him trace small patterns on your back with his fingernails. Your body suddenly covered itself in goosebumps, feeling nothing but overwhelming pleasure seep into every muscle and joint in your body. It made your heart flutter and swell, feeling how light his fingers danced across your skin and how gentle he was with you.

It had taken a lot for Spencer to open up to physical touch. You knew there was a side of him that loved being connected to you through any sort of physical contact, wether it be holding his hands, a kiss on the cheek, linking your arms together, saying hi in the morning with a hug or a soft peck. But his insecurities in the beginning of the relationship prevented him from letting that side show.

With time and patience, and lots of reassurance on your side, physical contact with you began nearly as necessary as breathing to Spencer.

Spencer always enjoyed giving you back scratches. He loved how your body immediately fell into his when he dragged his fingers along your back. He sometimes grabbed your arm to himself and traced patterns across while you were watching movies or when you woke up. There won’t be a day he forgets to greet you at your desk before heading to his own, despite always trying to avoid being seen by Morgan, who’d tease him endlessly, which is ultimately why he decides to keep his relationship with you far away from your coworkers. And so do you.

As much as everyone knew you were happily together, it wouldn’t be the same having every interaction scrutinized in both of your workplaces.

Nevertheless, he’ll always bend over your slouched position on your desk chair and say hi. He’ll let his hand linger on your back and trace repetitive circles almost always while you talked to him. Even if it was just thirty seconds, your body responded incredibly well to his soft touches.

His back scratches was just what you needed. Spencer was extremely good at reading you, and he responded to your needs in a way no one else had ever managed to. He knew that you looked more than exhausted when you got to the hotel room.

Right now, with his hands trailing around your tired body and aching back, you could practically feel yourself purring. His hand travelled along your shirt, reaching up beneath it to scratch your back without the layer of fabric, knowing you loved it even more. When he felt your body deflate he chuckled softly to himself.

"This is nice," You mumbled quietly, sighing contently.

"Did you know that when someone cratches your back, your brain releases Serotonin?" He started. You looked up at him with a wide smile as his hand continued traveling along your back.

"No, I did not."

"It's a neurotransmitter that promotes positive feelings. Our skin is abundant with sensory receptors which are called mechanoreceptors. When stimulated, specifically by human touch, they send signals to the brain which triggers pleasurable sensations. It's kind of like a light therapeutic touch, some people even call it scratch therapy." His hands traveled mindlessly, along with his words as he gazed up at the ceiling.

"Its primary purpose is to enhance one's mood for the better since it mainly releases endorphins and serotonin, hormones that tend to fight off cortisol. It's also said to relieve muscle tension, since the repetitive motion stimulates the natural release of these mood-boosting hormones. Your muscles respond and alleviate all the discomfort and stiffness on their own."

"Most importantly, it mimics gestures of affection and care. This specific type of touch motivates a sense of connection which can foster trust and bonding. Most people turn to this form of therapy because of how soothing the sensation can be both mentally and physically." He looked down at you only to find you watching him with all the affection you could possibly find in yourself.

"So thats why you always scratch my back, huh?" You pointed a finger at him and he smiled down at you, shrugging.

"Maybe,"

Spencer rambling about anything and every topic you could bring up was about your favorite thing about him, because unlike many people who knew him, you actually listened and soaked up every single word he said. Hell, you learned more with him in the past year than the first five years of your adulthood.

Watching him talk, and sound so clever and smart while doing so was something you immediately loved about him.

"I love when you go all wikipedia on me," You kissed the corner of his jaw and positioned yourself sound against his chest. He let out a low laugh as one of his arms held you against his chest while the other continued its repetitive patters. "Don't you dare stop with this scratch therapy stuff, I was just starting to feel that one knot in my back disappear."

He kissed the crown of your head as you began slipping off into your deep sleep. "Wasnt going to."

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queersatanic · 5 months

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The issue is not that the United States of America needs a "better president"; the issue is that the conservative project for more than 40 years has made it such that anybody conservatives elect will achieve roughly the same policy goals regardless.

Despite the emotional reaction, no presidential election loss is actually especially damaging to conservatives because they have captured the federal courts, the state legislatures and governorships, gerrymandered the districts, and created dual power structures outside of government including media, mutual aid, and entertainment e.g. there is absolutely no leftist equivalent to the suburban evangelical church in terms of organizing. All of this is in addition to their power and class solidarity as capitalists backed up by ideologically reactionary police forces, an all-volunteer military, and right-wing militias heavily overlapping the other two.

Donald Trump has more power as president than Joe Biden because any politician has more power to do conservative things when so many levers of power are already controlled by conservatives.

Conservativism requires doing all of this because right-wing ideas are extraordinarily unpopular, and the right is willing to exercise power to make it so that popular will is irrelevant. That's the whole point of what they do everywhere.

Imagine a reverse world where ideologically New Deal Democrats routinely lost the popular vote for presidency but still regularly won the elections, cities had extra the representation compared to rural populations and kept throwing likely Republican voters off the ballot, and the Supreme Court stacked with leftists ruled something like landlording was illegal, union membership was mandatory, or healthcare was a guaranteed right. It's inconceivable that conservatives would go along with it or keep telling people, "This is why it's more important than ever to VOTE."

One last non-hypothetical example: Richard Nixon didn't sign the EPA into law because the drunken bigot had a soft spot in his heart for the environment. He did it because the law came across his desk with unanimous support from the Senate and 95 percent support from the House, and both of those only supported it in those margins because people demanded something be done.

Nixon was horrible, and he had plenty of agency to act terribly within his sphere of power, but he was made to do something he didn't want to do because of the tireless work of many, many people over decades, and very little of that work was in the field of electoralism.

#us politics #electoralism

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freckles-a-constellation · 2 months

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The Doctor is a tragic character in the best Greek tragedy tradition.

So y'all know how the most common driving factor for intelligence to develop in species is if they're social? (Octopi aren't very social but let's ignore that real quick, the Doctor's a vertebrate anyway so invertebrate intelligence can probably be dismissed as irrelevant) Because after a point, more intelligence isn't really needed to avoid danger or gather food. But more intelligence does make it possible to communicate more efficiently, form more complex social bonds, eventually develop culture. Cue why social species tend to be more intelligent than solitary ones of otherwise comparable lifestyle. And cue why humanity is the way it is.

Now look at Gallifreyans. (I am purposefully ignoring the Timeless Child thing bc I don't rlly believe it and besides, even assuming it's true, The Doctor is similar enough to Gallifreyans to have flawlessly believed himself/themselves/herself to be one for 13+ regenerations, so anything that can be concluded to be true from analysis of Gallifreyans has good basis to be presumed true about the Doctor, whatever the fuck semantics you wanna use) So, Gallifreyans. A species much more advanced than according to DW canon humanity will ever be. More intelligent than humanity. High levels of education and not on the basis of private tutoring. Lives in cities. Has complex language and technology capable of instantly translating pretty much any language of any other species to be understandable to them. (Hell the TARDIS consistently still translates shit to English for the companions while they're outside it.) Complex social structure. That's one fucking social species.

And it gets better. The TARDIS is meant to be operated by a team of six. And even if River was joking about six, it's still clear that it should at least be more than one. Compare the Doctor steering the TARDIS alone to when he was with Susan. I mean, even those two looked like they could use an extra hand. Have you ever seen a human private use vehicle designed with 2+ pilots in mind? Definitely a species more social than humanity.

And the telepathy thing? Hello? Insanely, mind-boggingly social species.

Now take a being this fundamentally social and do something to them so that they see no recourse other than to take one (1) same-species (as far as he was aware disclaimer ig) companion, steal a ship they have little to no clue how to pilot, leave everything and everyone they've ever known and run without ever stopping for breath, no matter how much they miss home, no matter if it hurts. (And I do believe something must have happened to make him run like that, since the beggining, way before the Time War) Have them be scorned, judged, punished, mistreated and rejected by their species, again and again, for ages. Have them love, again and again, only to always lose everyone they've cared about, through abandonment or death. Have them essentially be forced to exterminate their whole species and believe themselves to be the last of their kind, only to be proven wrong by the whole Master situation, which alright is better, but also in some ways is worse. Have them, once again, form deep bonds with companions and once again lose all of them in various varyingly tragic ways until they have no hope left that anyone can ever truly stay for any amount of time even close to satisfactory, that love can for them end in anything but loss and pain. And they can't even avoid love altogether in an effort to spare themselves the inevitable agony of losing loved ones, because they're incapable of not growing to care for those around them. And they can't be without company either, because their sanity goes straight to hell in a handbasket within like,, 5 minutes of being alone.

Let me remind you this is not a human we're talking about. It's a member of a species much more inherently social than humanity. My point?

The Doctor is literally more lonely than the human brain can comprehend.

#*shoves this at any and all unfortunate people*#doctor who #the doctor #classic who #nuwho #doctor who meta #or at least i think it is?#first doctor #war doctor #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #twelfth doctor #thoughts tm

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cassandraclare · 1 year

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Original versions/Matthew

pagesofmoonlight asked:

was matthew ever going to ....

die/turn into a vampire in your original outline for chain of thorns?

poesflowercrown asked:

Based on the original epilogue you talked about, was matthew originally gonna die in edom ??

No.

I think we kinda need to dispense with the idea that there was some “original idea” for the Last Hours, start to finish, and the current version is different. There isn’t and there wasn’t. When I talk about old ideas I’m usually talking about concepts I rolled around in my head before discarding them in coming up with the final concept; it would be rare that I’d even have gotten far enough at that stage to write down a note. Thinking “maybe everyone James knew is dead” at some point is not detailed enough for me even to have known anyone was going to Edom, or how anyone died, or anything else that happened.

This is the way anything is created. Every book involves the writer having had a thought in the past like “Maybe this would be interesting if it happened” and then tossing the idea: it does not mean that idea has any bearing or influence on the final product. While I think the past thoughts writers had while engaged in the process of coming up with a book are interesting, I think they’re irrelevant to the book. I see people twisting themselves into pretzels trying to figure out if some past “version” of TLH determined how the eventual TLH was plotted, or coming up with long conspiracy theories about how someone or other had to die because of the family tree.*

None of these things are true. There’s no “original” TLH, just a series of evolving thoughts that eventually become a final story, which is the version we consider to also be the actual story. I’m sure I considered every character’s death at one point or another. I probably considered blowing up London and having Oscar become prime minister. That’s how plotting works; it doesn’t mean any of that stuff is important, or — more significantly — that there is one “original version” rather than thousands, none of which have any more bearing on the final book than any other.

I will say I never thought of Matthew being a vampire even once! I did enjoy the theory though.

*I made no decisions about anything based on the family tree. I decided it had to be inaccurate in order to free myself up to make whatever decisions I wanted — whether those decisions made the tree more or less inaccurate was irrelevant because it had to be. At the end of the day, the family tree is just extra content, and 90% of my readers have never heard of it or seen it.

#famly tree #chot #spoilers #matthew fairchild

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originalaccountname · 9 months

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I keep seeing people on my post say the bullet to the head didn't leave an indent on the wall because the bullet simply did not go through his head and got stuck.

For the sake of the argument, let's forget the size and depth of those indents compared to the point-blank head shot (that would not have gone completely through) that opnly left a neat little hole that barely bleeds by assuming it's all one big aesthetic choice and what they look like has no narrative weight.

These indents were drawn, and that's the important part.

In a visual medium you want to take into account what was given emphasis. Chuuya shot Dazai 4 times. That's enough to create a pattern and expectations.

The first shot goes clean through his shoulder and indents the wall.

The second shot, the one to the head, is given a whole dramatic slow motion moment over three panels on as many pages... but no indent. At this point, it's 50/50 if it's really just that the bullet got stuck or what.

but! Chuuya (uselessly, might I add) shoots Dazai two more times immediately after, and both of these shots also leave indents on the wall. That's a pattern. We already left physics at the door when I started this post, so the amount of body mass/skeleton should be irrelevant too.

I fully believe this is a case of the narrator going "hey, look what happens when we shoot him :)", then doing the big dramatic shot, and then going "hey, remember what happens when we actually shoot him :)"

translation source

And like. I can't stress this enough. He spoke a whole sentence (or well, almost) after being shot in the head. He also managed to move his arms and legs a little? If that's not suspicious I don't know what is.

As a bonus, you can also take notice of how the extra bullets besides the head shot are all in relatively safe areas (I mean it's still a gun and he's still bleeding a lot) that could get healed if treated in time :)

#disclaimer: i am fully prepared to be proved wrong but i'm very confident in this #in any case he's not dead -or not permanently so- i'm not even entertaining the idea #he's done that before it's not new #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd 109 #bsd manga spoilers #bsd spoilers #apparently i talk sometimes

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chaifootsteps · 3 months

Note

so if Viv is liking those tweets, isn't it basically an admission that her critics have a point?

like without skipping a beat the argument has gone from

"SA survivors have found the Poison sequence empowering/honest/etc and anyone criticizing me who is also an SA survivor doesn't count / is just wrong" (implying the depiction is not fetishizing SA)

liking tweets about how trauma is irrelevant in what preferences people have and "no one should have to disclose trauma to be valid" (implying the depiction not only totally is fetishizing SA, but that there's nothing wrong with that)

this is a pretty classic Motte-and-Bailey style argument

the controversial position is that using SA as a means to titillate the audience is acceptable (or having someone working on a scene about SA who treats it that way is acceptable)

the non-controversial position is that no one should have to disclose whether they've been SA'd or not to work on storylines about it

People have criticized Viv & Raph for doing the former - treating SA like something edgy and sexy - but Viv knows it's not acceptable to defend that position, so she either uses SA survivors who thought the sequence was OK as a shield to say "no it doesn't sexualize SA" or she retreats back to the non controversial position that's much easier to defend to try and force her detractors to argue on her terms.

it's why her defense is so all over the place - it's simultaneously trying to avoid engaging with the actual problems people are having & putting words in people's mouths that she can rebut more easily.

it's fair that people get emotional when they're defensive & some can't argue their case well - but it's why stepping back to make one simple, thoughtful statement that actually engages with the criticism (where a creator feels a response is warranted, saying nothing is an option if she really thinks this is bad faith) would be a wiser move, instead of engaging several different people in debate while trying to move the conversation past what they're actually saying. (look at how LD handled the refund and Zebirdbrain situation - one simple statement, then they moved on. they didn't have multiple staffers getting into three day twitter fights)

the issue is not "people expect staffers to disclose sexual traumas to be allowed to work on scenes involving sexual trauma"

the issue is "if your storyboard artist has a history of treating SA as sexy and treating Angel in particular as an object to be used and abused, then either they shouldn't storyboard sequences like this or extra oversight is needed to depict the topic with care. And if you're going to blatantly rip off both an animatic and a fancomic they made, don't be surprised when people connect the dots and get annoyed about it or think it's disgusting when you use other SA survivors as a means to tell them to shut up about it & then lie that the storyboard artist in question is a victim of SA after they contradict you twice (or out them as a survivor, if that's the case)"

(side note, didn't Viv say she would welcome criticism after the ep was realized? that attitude seems to have vanished)

Thank you for laying it out and putting it into words. She's zig-zagging all over the place...don't let her.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #vivziepop #vivziepop critical #actual blog post #hazbin hotel critical

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clangenrising · 4 months

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Month 10 - Leafbare

Scorchplume had never been more comfortable in her life - well, aside from the itching pain in her rear end, but that would surely fade in time.

It hadn’t been like that at first. Her first several days in captivity were spent in a cold little cage, desperately fawning over any human who would come near to try and earn their favor. They were the ones who would decide if she would become Exalted or discarded with the Chaff on the streets. Most of the other cats in the cages stared and whispered, well familiar with her and her reputation. She wondered if they judged her for her desperate displays of affection but their opinion became irrelevant when she was finally taken to be altered and awoke with both ears intact.

Shortly after that, she’d been taken home by one of the human attendants at the Judgement House who she had managed to endear herself to. She’d spent a day or so trapped in a small room, being closely watched by the human and sometimes by her two kits. The kits brought Scorch rich tunas and enthralling balls of glitter. She knew that her new position as a House Cat came with expectations to watch over and entertain her new Folk and so she obliged the kits when they tried to entice her into a game.

She sometimes imagined that Goldenstar or Yarrowshade would enjoy these games, that she might enjoy playing beside them, and she always forced herself to crush those feelings into dust. Such thoughts would only weigh her down and she couldn’t afford any distractions.

After another few days, she was let out into the rest of the house. She took careful time exploring the place, mapping every detail in her mind. She memorized the hiding places, investigated the vantage points, noted all the doors and windows and how closely they were guarded by the Folk.

It was an interesting place, the house. It was so pristine. Everything was human made and free of dirt or grass or what have you. The food was given to her at the same time every day and the Folk had brought a bit of sand inside for her to bury her waste in. She couldn’t seem to figure out where they put their own waste, although it seemed to have something to do with the room they insisted on going into alone.

The Folk had brought a strange pine tree inside, one that smelled like plastic instead of needles, and covered it with strange shining orbs and crinkly vines. She had tried to investigate it further but the Folk didn’t seem to like it when she did and she had decided not to risk their anger by probing further.

Still, despite the place’s strangeness, her time there had been marked by a level of comfort she had never known in her life. She never had to want for food and could usually earn extra morsels with a humble enough prayer. There were so many soft places to sleep, many of them in perfect beams of sunlight. The weather seemed entirely absent, the house staying perfectly warm even as the world outside was covered in thick, white snow. Scorch had found a soft perch jutting out of one of the windows that seemed perfect for observing the world outside. There wasn’t much to see, but sometimes she chose to pass the time there, watching birds.

That was… until one day when, while sitting on her perch she spotted another cat sitting on the fence and staring at her. Immediately, her heart began to pound and she leapt down to hide beneath the couch. Who had that been? She racked her brains for the names and faces of any brown tabbies in Razor’s band and came up with too many answers to be useful. She spent the rest of the night cowering under furniture until dinner, then clung closely to the Folk while they slept. She hated that she felt safer tucked against their huge, warm bodies but she did. She had never been religious but she understood now why so many House Cats worshiped their Folk. There was a certain power they held and a level of kindness that felt vaguely alien yet all encompassing in their presence.

The next day, after breakfast, Scorch chanced a look through the big window overlooking the back garden. The snow was marked with paw prints. Her stomach twisted in dread. She took a slow deep breath, tried to think clearly, but it was hard over the alarms going off throughout her entire body. She had been found. It was only a matter of time before Razor came calling. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to force down the bile rising in her throat.

Stars, she could smell his breath, hear the rumble of his laugh, feel his teeth in her fur--

She gagged and bent over double, paw pads slick with fear sweat. Her pelt crawled as she desperately tried to settle her churning stomach. What was wrong with her?! Her survival depended on keeping a cool head and a cooler disposition. She had to get herself under control or she was going to have to keep herself confined to this house for the rest of her life. She briefly considered the idea - hiding under the protection of her Folk and getting used to the stale house air and the taste of kibble - but she knew that she would eventually go mad in such a small, unchanging territory. She had been born to roam and as gentle as her Folk had been, she needed to leave eventually.

“Are you alright?” a voice on the other side of the glass startled her and she flinched backwards in a puff of ginger fur. A smiling feline face and two bright, copper eyes stared back at her. The cat in front of her was a sleek, blue-furred molly wearing a rusty red collar with a shiny little bell. She was bigger than Scorchplume, but only slightly, and she didn’t seem to mind the cold thanks to her thick winter pelt.

Scorch took a deep breath and laid her hackles to rest before responding, “Yes, I’m fine. Just a nasty ache from the Altering.”

“Oh, yikes,” the cat winced sympathetically. “I've heard that's the worst. Don’t let your Folk catch you picking at the wound though, they’ll put you in a cone.”

“Good to know,” Scorch said, forcing a smile. She had no idea what a cone was but she wasn’t eager to find out.

“I’m Mystique,” the stranger said brightly.

“Scorch,” she replied with a charming curl of her tail.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” purred Mystique. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” Scorch chuckled, imagining the way Razor’s band might speak about her.

“Of course,” Mystique nodded. “You’ve got quite the reputation. I’m glad you finally joined us among the Exalted. Some thought you were Chaff, but I knew better.” Scorch grinned and dipped her head graciously. Mystique cocked her head to the side with curiosity and asked, “How did you end up with your Folk, by the way? No one has seen you for months and then suddenly here you are!”

Scorch thought fast. Her next words were important. Was it better to admit she had been caught in a stupid mistake or should she try to pretend it had been intentional? What answer was both believable and advantageous?

“I did some exploring,” Scorch started, “then I grew tired of it. I saw a trap and thought that seemed like the fastest way to come home.” She knew there was probably a better story out there but she didn’t have time to think of it. This one would have to do.

“Tooth and claw!” laughed Mystique. “You’re definitely as bold as they say.”

“What brings you to my garden?” Scorch asked, whiskers twitching with interest.

Mystique shifted, glancing over her shoulder, and said, “I’m your neighbor! Heard you had moved in and thought I ought to say hello.” She shifted again and Scorch made note of the way her smile flickered momentarily. She was hiding something and Scorch could only assume that she had been instructed to pay a ‘friendly’ visit.

“How lovely,” Scorch purred.

“I’ll probably be around if you ever need me,” Mystique offered. “The Folk usually don’t let you out of the house until the Alteration has fully healed, but I can pass along any messages for you or let you know about the goings on.”

“Oh, really?” Scorch perked her ears. “I’d love to hear about the recent events. Like I said, I’ve been away and haven’t been able to catch up on gossip.”

“Hmm,” Mystique ran her tongue over one of her paws and passed it over an ear as she thought. “All the buzz lately has been around these barbarian cats living north of the city. Razor is making moves to seize their territory for a hunting ground.”

“Really?” Scorch put on amazement. “I didn’t realize the rumors of cultists and savages were true!”

“Right?” laughed Mystique. “I honestly wish I could see them for myself. Apparently they’re harboring a Chaff Transgressor.”

“Fascinating,” Scorch said. “I’ll have to ask Razor for the details when he comes to visit.” And he would. She wished he wouldn’t but she knew it was inevitable.

“Yeah,” shrugged Mystique. “You might be waiting a while, though. He’s overseeing the next push, probably going to be busy for a while.”

“I see,” Scorch said, trying to figure out if she was relieved or worried by that news. “Do let me know when he gets back, yes?”

“Of course,” grinned Mystique, “will do. He’s probably pretty eager to see you.”

“Likewise,” Scorch said. Her guts squirmed and clenched nauseatingly.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Scorchplume #Mystique #Leafbare #TW SA Mention #TW Vomit #clangenrising

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kaiyakawa · 10 months

Text

Meeting You || Yandere Gojo Saturo x OC

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Named Female Reader (Miyahara Asami)

Summary: Meeting him seemed like an honor but had Asami watched him closely she might have not found herself in such a situation.

Warnings: NON CON, Jealousy, Character Death, Implied Murder, Unconsensual Drugging.

Word Count: 2648

A/N: It's my first time writing yandere let me know what you think of it.

The first time pupils at Tokyo Jujutsu High acknowledged Miyahara Asami’s existence was when Gojo Satoru lingered beside her. His left hand gently resting on her shoulder while everyone on the sports field intently watched the struggle of Asami as she fought to hold back tears, only to succumb as they traced a path down her cheeks.

Upon discovering Asami's strained ankle, the P.E. teacher swiftly assigned Satoru the task of bringing her to the school nurse. Without any hesitation, Satoru slid his hands underneath her knees and supported her back. As whispers danced among her peers, Asami's realization washed over her — Satoru held her in his embrace. Sudden Asami became insecure. Does he find her heavy? Does he consider her a cry baby? Does he think she is disgusting for sweating?

Asami had never truly grasped the magnitude of Satoru's towering height until that moment. In his presence, she swore she was lifted closer to the celestial realm rather than grounded on earthly soil, an ethereal sensation that left her in awe.

That particular day etched itself into Satoru's memory as the moment he made a profound declaration to himself—a declaration of love, as he willingly embraced the truth that his heart had unequivocally fallen for her.

As the sun rose the next morning, Asami bid farewell to her grandparents and embarked on a painstaking journey towards the exit of the apartment building. Though the nurse had cautioned against walking, the absence of anyone to accompany her left her with no alternative but to defy the advice and tread slowly towards school. However, just as Asami set foot outside, her steps came to an astonished halt, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight that greeted her—Gojo Satoru, standing before her with a bicycle in hand. How had he discovered her place of residence?

"Good morning, Asami," he greeted her with a cheerful tone, her name rolled off his tongue so naturally. As he approached her, he closed the distance between them. Once he stood in front of her, she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in his piercing blue eyes. "Good morning," she responded, reciprocating the greeting. Satoru's gaze fell upon the bandage wrapped around her swollen ankle, prompting him to remark, "You weren't planning to walk to school with a sprained ankle, were you?" Standing before her with a bike, he offered, "Let me take you to school."

Hesitance took over her. Eyes were drawn to the sleek and expensive-looking bicycle. “Thank you for the offer but there’s no need for that. I don’t want waste your time,” Asami politely declined. Firmly he insisted, “Don’t be stupid. You don’t want to prolong your ankle’s recovery.” Asami could not wait any longer and asked the question that lingered her mind since she saw Satoru standing: "How did you know where I lived?" Purposefully, Satoru brushed off her question, deeming it irrelevant. She does not have to know about the fact he followed her yesterday when she got picked up by her grandfather. All that mattered to him was that they were together again.

"Now, hop on before I drag you to school by your hair," he said while a gentle smile graced his lips. The way those words escaped his mouth left Asami feeling ambiguous. Wondering whether it was a genuine joke or a not.

From that pivotal moment onwards, Satoru made it a point to go the extra mile in his pursuit of Asami's company.

Satoru's heart grew heavy with the realization that he and Asami were not in the same academic year. As a second-year student, their schedules rarely aligned, leaving him longing for more moments with her at school. However, this obstacle did not deter Satoru from actively seeking her out during breaks, determined to steal precious snippets of time together.

One day, as they gathered during a break, a tall, slim boy with black hair approached them. "So this is the girl," he remarked, his gaze fixed on Asami. Politely bowing, she introduced herself, saying, "I am Miyahara Asami. It's a pleasure to meet you." Satoru, standing beside her, couldn't help but interject, his voice filled with affection, "Yeah, isn't she cute?" His gentle gesture of tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear underscored his fondness for her.

In no time, Asami found herself becoming acquainted with Satoru's circle of friends—Suguru, Shoko, Kento, and Yu. It was fortunate that she already shared a class with Yu and Kento, allowing a sense of familiarity to ease her into the newfound company.

Whenever Satoru greeted Asami, he had a big smile plastered on his face. Being in her presence again made him so happy. Spending the school breaks together was not enough. Without realizing it, Satoru started to play a bigger part in her life.

Every morning he picked her up from residence with his bike. Feeling her arms wrapped around his waist made him feel in control of her. Whenever the rain poured down, he would insist on sharing his transparent umbrella that clearly was designed for one person. The feeling of his shoulder touching hers made the butterflies in his stomach dance.

One day he felt bolder than usual and wrapped his arm around her waist. Asami froze up from the sudden action of the white-haired boy but she did not push his arm away.

On scorching afternoons, he would convince her to join him for ice cream after school. Giving him a great excuse to wipe the ice cream from her lips. When the biting cold of winter set in he would wrap his scarf around her neck. Ensuring her warmth and comfort.

In Satoru's mind, these gestures were evidence of a budding affection reciprocated by Asami. Her genuine cheer and unwavering support during his baseball matches further fueled his belief. And when fatigue plagued his shoulders it was her gentle hands that massaged away the tension, offering solace and care. In moments of wintry chill her warm palms would envelop his cold ones, providing an intimate connection that resonated deeply within him. Their bond seemed sealed when, on her birthday, he presented her with a necklace that adorned her neck. In gratitude she planted a tender kiss on his cheek.

Yet, the harsh truth of reality revealed that Asami's eyes had wandered elsewhere, drawn to the captivating presence of Yu Haibara. Despite Satoru's devoted efforts, his heartfelt gestures were unnoticed by the one he held dear.

"What?" Satoru's voice escaped his lips, a mix of confusion and surprise etched on his face as he witnessed a remorseful smile gracing Asami's delicate features. His mind raced, questioning her intentions — did he do something to upset her? "I am sorry, Sato, but I will not walk home with you today. I will see you tomorrow," she gently explained, swiftly gathering her schoolbag before making her way out of the classroom. Dissatisfied with her response, Satoru couldn't bear the thought of their cherished routine being disrupted. He trailed after her, his determination unwavering. "But we always walk home together," he pleaded, hoping to reignite their daily tradition, a ritual he held dear. "I know but not today. I promise, I will make it up to you," she reassured him and kissed his cheek before leaving him alone in the hallways, a bitter blend of anger and disappointment washing over him as he watched his Asami leave the school building. Refusing to accept her rejection, Satoru decided to follow Asami, driven by an overwhelming need to uncover the reasons behind her sudden disruption of their harmonious routine.

Maintaining a discreet distance he followed her to the park, his steps coming to an abrupt halt as he beheld the sight before him. Asami ran towards Yu, her excitement palpable. Satoru stood frozen, his eyes fixated on the scene unfolding before him. Time seemed to slow as he observed Asami's cheeks flush with a delicate shade of pink, a telltale sign of her nervousness. His heart clenched with a mix of anger and jealousy as Yu plucked a cherry blossom from her hair, a gesture laden with an intimacy that stung Satoru's soul. However, what truly ignited a firestorm within him was the sight of Asami’s school skirt. It was noticeably shortened, revealing a glimpse of her thighs as she sat beside Yu.

"Satoru, stop it!" Asami's voice erupted in a yell, urging the white-haired boy to release his grip from her. It had only been ten minutes since Satoru showed up unannounced at her apartment, bombarding her with relentless questions about her relationship with Yu. Yet, to Asami, the relentless repetition made it feel like an eternity. "Why are you behaving like this all of a sudden? I've already told you there is nothing between me and Yu," she reassured him, her hand gently resting on his chest, an attempt to calm his raging storm. But the anger etched across his face refused to dissipate, his heavy breaths filling the air.

"But you kissed him," he uttered, the accusation laced with hurt and disbelief. "It was just a peck... Sato, I swear, I'm not dating Yu," Asami pleaded, her voice tinged with both sincerity and frustration, hoping to break through the walls he had erected.

"Kiss me," he suddenly demanded, his voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and determination. Taken aback by his request, Asami looked at him with a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “I almost kiss you daily,” she reminded him but Satoru shook his head knowing what she is referring to. “A real kiss,” he said and looked at her with darkness in his eyes. Something she had never seen before. Something about it scared her. In no mood to prolong this pointless conversation, she nodded reluctantly and took a step closer to her friend. With a blend of nervousness and slight fear, she rose on her tiptoes, preparing to fulfill his request, unaware of the consequences that would unfold next.

The moment her soft lips touched his, his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. Desperately he sucked and bite at her lower lip, begging her to open her mouth. Once Asami slightly opened her mouth, Satoru forced his tongue insider her mouth. Exploring every corner of her mouth and dominating her tongue.

The kiss was rough and sloppy. The way he bit her lips she could taste something metallic. Once Satoru was satisfied with the kiss he pulled away but he remained close to her. Still having a tight grip on her waist, he leaned closer and let his forehead rest against hers. A thin string of saliva connecting their lips.

As days melded into weeks, Satoru watched with a heavy heart as Asami slipped further and further away from his side. The vibrant thread that once bound them together began to unravel, the closeness they once shared slowly fading into distant memories. Their conversations became fleeting, their laughter growing scarce, and their moments together dwindled into mere fragments of what they used to be. It felt as though the very foundation of their bond was crumbling, leaving Satoru bewildered and consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

The pain that gripped Satoru's heart was both relentless and overwhelming. Anger mingled with confusion, leaving him questioning what had changed. What had caused this gradual distance to grow between them? The countless hours he had devoted to their friendship, the unwavering support and understanding he had offered, seemed to have been disregarded, cast aside with such ease. It was a bitter pill to swallow, to witness the fading connection that had once felt unbreakable.

Satoru had been willing to tolerate the multitude of changes unfolding within Asami's life. However, the final blow that shattered his resilience came when he was at a party hosted by a classmate. Almost every student from Tokyo Jujutsu High was present at the gathering. While the loud music echoed through the entire house and people were getting drunk left and right, Satoru decided to look for Asami. He needed to talk to her. After searching the entire house for his favorite person, there was one place left to explore. Quietly he pushed a bedroom door open and immediately halted his tracks.

There she was laying on somebody’s bed with Yu between her legs. No words could adequately capture the depth of Satoru's emotions. Was he angry? Livid? Consumed by rage? None of these descriptors could fully encapsulate the turmoil coursing through his veins. On that day, a solemn oath took shape within Satoru's heart—he vowed to reclaim Asami, to restore what had been lost between them.

The next encounter between the two friends took place within the confines of Satoru's bedroom. Her tears staining the fabric of Satoru's shirt while he provided a steady source of comfort, his hand gently tracing soothing circles on her back. "I can't comprehend how someone could be so cruel," she whispered with trembling lips. The weight of Yu's passing weighed heavily on her heart, each thought of him was a painful reminder of the harsh realities of life. "The world can be so unfair sometimes," the blue-eyed boy murmured softly, his voice laced with understanding, as he reached out his hand to grab a glass of water and held the glass to her quivering lips, encouraging her to take a few sips.

As the minutes passed, fatigue enveloped Asami, her limbs growing heavy and her eyes struggling to stay open. Recognizing her growing exhaustion, she mustered the strength to voice: "I need to go home." Gently pushing herself away from Satoru's comforting embrace, she attempted to stand on her unsteady legs. But before she could fully find her balance, her body betrayed her. Collapsing to the wooden floor beneath her. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as pain coursed through her. Sensing her distress, Satoru swiftly moved into action, his arms instinctively reaching out to lift her delicate and small frame. With ease and tenderness, he carefully lifted her from the ground, cradling her in his arms, before gently placing her upon his bed.

"You know how I envision our future?" Satoru gently posed the question as he unbuttoned her blouse, his gaze fixed on her distant stare towards the ceiling, oblivious to his actions. Curious, she turned her gaze towards the white-haired boy. "Well?" she prompted, her eyes searching his face for an answer. Satoru's voice held a hint of longing as he painted the picture of their shared destiny. "I imagine us living together in a magnificent house nestled amidst the mountains," he revealed, throwing her blouse on the wooden floor as he admired her body. A wistful smile graced his lips as he indulged in his daydream. "The thought of returning home to find you patiently waiting for me fills my heart with joy," he confessed, having envisioned that scene countless times in his mind. When he did not get a response from Asami, he continued: “The idea of us sharing a bedroom gets me riled up.”

“Why” she asked. Totally unaware of Satoru slowly pulling down her underwear. “Think about it, Asami,” the white-haired boy said as he caged her with his body. Planting little kisses in her neck as he forces Asami to part her legs. “Sato I need to go home,” Asami said as she felt a warm hand between her legs. “My grandparents are waiting for me,” she said as she placed her hands on his bare chest and tried to push him away. Disappointment washed over as she realized that her effort were pointless.

“And now that Yu is out of the picture, that dream can turn into reality,” Satoru said as he massages her breast. “What? What do you mean?” Asami said drowsy. "Hush you do not have worry about it. He will not bother us anymore," Satoru said before planting a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you Asami” were the last words that Miyahara Asami heard before everything turned black.

#gojo x reader #yandere gojo #yandere x reader #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #gojo noncon #yandere satoru gojo #jjk x oc #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #oc

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befemininenow · 10 months

Photo

Extra caption no. 69 of 69: Close the closet door and open a new road!

This is it, the final extra caption post! What better way to conclude this chapter than to use one of two of the most captioned pictures as part of my last Flashback Friday: the one where a woman opens the door and takes a peek outside closed doors and the other pic where the woman looks towards the far road. It can be interpreted as a metaphor for curiosity of the outside, for conquering fear, for moving forward, whatever meaning you have.

But as a transgender girl (or trans woman since I’m an adult), the pics have a meaning. I’ll share my thought for the first: coming out of the closet is a very challenging process. For many, it’s easy to keep a front (i.e. a fake image) to satisfy even those that may not like you. Everyone is satisfied, everyone... except you.

It’s very difficult to be your authentic self because everything has at least a boundary. In the case of being transgender, it’s becoming more apparent: anti-trans laws, restriction of HRT, document changes, hate propaganda, persecution, acceptance by loved ones, etc. But even if all of this did not exist, there is one major barrier to your coming out: you. Staying inside the closet is a real-life nightmare. It drains your energy and will in place of “safe solitude”. You question yourself daily and look at someone foreign to you in the mirror. It gets to the point where you begin to despise yourself. Some people will start to notice your drastic change and may ask “what’s wrong?” But in fear of letting them down or losing them for life, you decline and continue to be who you’re not.

But in the rare times you’re happy, it’s when you dressed up as a girl. It’s not because of a dare or a thrill. It’s because you wish to look feminine, to learn about the other side, to stay in touch with femininity, to be looking at... to be, you.

It’s okay to let go. Fighting those tears will hurt you more. But I promise you, girl, everything will be much better here. The few that hate you are too vocal... because they’re afraid of becoming irrelevant. The general majority are quite indifferent, but they will not let hate prevail either. In reality, there is more support for you to be yourself, for your right to exist. But that may only happen if you leave that dark room.

It will be tough, yes. You will lose close friends and loved ones and possibly gain a few enemies on your way. There will also be more obstacles to prevent you from succeeding. But nothing will be impossible when you finally become yourself. Leaving as a woman in that quiet, wide road is as satisfying as it sounds. You will meet new adventures and new companions that will be part of your new chapter, the chapter of transition into your feminine self. And it all starts when you finally let the beautiful girl in the collar blouse out...

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

Universities secretly sold their students to online casinos

End-stage capitalism’s defining characteristic is making money rather than making things. Think of how Jack Welch destroyed GE by transforming it from a manufacturing company to a financial engineering shop:

https://the.ink/p/like-capitalism-itself-business-journalism

Hospitals are invoice-generating factories with a sideline in medicine. The electronic health record only incidentally records your health. Its primary purpose is to record your billing-codes:

https://www.beckershospitalreview.com/ehrs/physicians-spending-nearly-2-hours-a-day-on-ehr-tasks-outside-work.html

And universities? Ugh. Most universities now have more administrators than faculty:

https://www.jamesgmartin.center/2022/08/administrative-bloat-harms-teaching-and-learning/

Much of that “administration” comes down to begging alums for money to funnel into vast endowments, but heaven forfend those endowments would be used to cover payroll and other essentials, even in a pandemic emergency:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/reneemorad/2020/04/21/harvard-under-fire-for-accepting-nearly-9-million-in-coronavirus-relief-funds/

Nor are endowment funds available to pay the education workers who actually teach students, but can’t afford the rent, food, or family:

https://www.capradio.org/articles/2022/11/14/nearly-50000-university-of-california-graduate-student-employees-launch-open-ended-strike/

The point of the endowment is to increase the size of the endowment — not to improve educational outcomes or research. That’s why Harvard is “A hedge fund that has a university”:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/a-hedge-fund-that-has-a-university-1510615228

This is the overwhelming logic of capital: capital exists to increase capital, and the underlying mechanism for that increase is irrelevant. This was the reasoning behind the surreal bid to sell the .ORG nonprofit registry to a secretive hedge-fund.

The point of the .ORG registry is to host domain records for nonprofits; incidentally, this throws off some extra money that is turned into grants for public interest projects. The board decided to sell off .ORG so it could make more of these grants, despite the fact that this would compromise the mission of hosting .ORG domain records:

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/org-domain-registry-sale-ethos-capital-rejected-stunning-victory-public-interest

Likewise, this was the reasoning of the Mountain Equipment Co-Op board when they decided to sell off the member-owned co-op (“the most trusted brand in Canada”) to a US private equity fund without consulting the members:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/16/spike-lee-joint/#casse-le-mec

The expand-capital-at-all-costs mindset is a virulent species of brain worms. It’s the basis for surreal movements like effective altruism, which encourages people who want to do good for the world to sell out to the most toxic industries on Earth, amass gigantic fortunes, and then, upon their death, donate them to causes that in some way remediate the harms they themselves wreaked:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earning_to_give

In his new book Survival of the Richest, Douglas Rushkoff calls this “The Mindset” — “I need to make vast amounts of money, no matter what the consequences, or I will not be able to afford to insulate myself from the consequences of how I made all that money”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/13/collapse-porn/#collapse-porn

Once you let people with The Mindset anywhere near your institution, they will take it over and turn it into a paperclip-maximizing killing machine, one that abandons and then betrays its mission to increase its profits, eventually killing its host. Anything that can’t go on forever will eventually stop:

https://doctorow.medium.com/anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-will-eventually-stop-110ba9711133

That’s what’s happened to higher ed. It’s not just the payroll full of starving adjuncts, facilities workers, etc. It’s not just the way that universities join forces with textbook monopolists to gouge their students:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/07/markets-in-everything/#textbook-abuses

Beyond academics having to rely on food-stamps, students going into lifetime debt to enrich predatory textbook monopolies, and the other horrors of financialized higher ed, there’s the special evil of college sports.

Like all finance-bro motivated reasoning, college sports are sold as a way to do well by doing good: “Look! We’re giving poor people a chance at a great education based on their physical prowess, and we’re racking up tons of money for the university!”

But — like all finance schemes — college sports is a self-licking ice-cream cone that destroys the lives of the people who generate value for it, even as it devours its host institution from within.

Did you know that until very recently, college athletes weren’t allowed to make a penny from their labor?

https://www.scotusblog.com/2021/06/in-unanimous-ruling-court-agrees-with-athletes-that-ncaa-violated-antitrust-laws/

Did you know that those same athletes experience lifelong brain injuries?

https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2791303

Did you know that college sports are a cesspit of long-term, officially tolerated sexual abuse?

https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2021/nov/30/ohio-state-michigan-doctors-sexual-abuse-college-football

Did you know that the highest paid public employee in many states is a football coach at a state college?

https://www.profootballnetwork.com/highest-paid-college-football-coaches-2022/

Did you know that college coaches conspired with the rich parents to steal sport-related admission slots from poor kids and give them to mediocre winners of the orifice-lottery?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Varsity_Blues_scandal

In many universities — whether public or private — the sports program effectively runs the show. Take the University of New Hampshire: back in 2016, a university librarian named Robert Morin left his life’s savings to the school after 50 years of service. Morin lived frugally for that half century and amassed a personal fortune of $4m.

He believed so deeply in the university’s mission that he turned it all over to the school without any restrictions. Talk about earning to give! The university blew Morin’s gift on a new jumbotron for their sports stadium:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2016/09/16/university-to-buy-1-million-football-scoreboard-with-thrifty-librarians-money-outraging-critics/

The people who see universities as inconvenient adjuncts to exploitative sports teams know that there are still rivals within higher ed who think the point of the school is to educate students.

That’s why the universities that arranged to allow sports gambling websites to target the young people in their care did so in secret.

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/11/20/business/caesars-sports-betting-universities-colleges.html?unlocked_article_code=AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACEIPuonUktbfqYhlSVUZAybfQMMmqBCdnr_EybEnj2XlaTONTixe1KEfDpSc-kHCILdlZsU-xS-aWN5MK_okQ_h2w-BSJAptVwys6NOiqagyHh8U-8i1T39kmNXER6w5-jvnKWDmIe5ymOTn-hvbbzH1XKzbg2lxIVpvvZY2d12t3yMDwKmVFfVnmYUrhYdXDZ54TT8KZiWY7bK_W1glZoLwPlyL4RI2WupZRTnQgdWfjrsCew5TAl7FJ2httSd-sJgPfYNKY9usakIoa8H8gr4OCmd3LYvPBpQ5RILck70Coqf9dPDE9RFVhqXegnp2EK4F

Writing for the New York Times, Anna Betts, Andrew Little, Elizabeth Sander, Alexandra Tremayne-Pengelly and Walt Bogdanich reveal the extraordinary corruption and depravity of college administrators who colluded with sports book companies to bring gambling to campus.

Implicated in the scandal are such top schools as Michigan State, U Colorado Bolder, Louisiana State, Syracuse and Texas Christian Univeristy (mission: “to educate individuals to think and act as ethical leaders and responsible citizens”).

On the casino side, the major player is Caesar’s, which is only fitting — Caesar’s was driven to bankruptcy by private equity who managed to financialize a casino into ruin:

https://www.ft.com/content/a0ed27c6-a2d4-11e7-b797-b61809486fe2

Caesar’s offered universities millions of dollars for the right to directly sports betting to students. The MSU deal, brokered by university officials Paul Schager and Alan Haller, was worth $8.4m. That is to say, Caesar’s was asking the university to help it drain at least $8.4m from students’ bank accounts in order to turn a profit.

Louisiana State U did a similar deal with Caesar’s, and then embarked on a direct marketing campaign to sell sports gambling to students who were too young to legally place a bet.

LSU says this was a mistake. Cody Worsham, a university official who holds two offices — associate athletic director and chief brand officer (!!) — said that Caesar’s and LSU “share a commitment to responsible, age-appropriate marketing.”

Meanwhile, U Colorado Boulder struck a deal where it earned a $30 bounty every time a student went from non-gambler to gambler — in other words, Boulder didn’t make money by advertising gambling to students — it made money only if its students started gambling.

These student gambling programs are designed to keep children betting even if they lose money, with teaser offers that refund some losses if students keep placing bets.

This is obviously unsavory stuff. That’s why the architects of these programs went to enormous lengths to keep it secret. The state schools involved funneled their deals through private marketing agencies that were shielded from FOIA requests, specifically to prevent the public from learning how public universities were conducting their affairs.

As MSU executive associate athletic director Paul Schager put it: “With the multimedia rights holder, public institutions like Michigan State no longer have to disclose all those sponsorship deals. This helps with the sponsors being able to spend what they feel is appropriate without having the public or employees or stockholders question that investment.”

The deals themselves are far-reaching. As part of MSU’s Caesar’s deal, tailgate parties before big games would be “Caesarized,” with the casino providing ad-copy for the live announcers to read to attendees. As a figleaf, $25,000 of the millions that MSU received from Caesar’s was earmarked for gambling addiction education.

The deals weren’t just kept secret from the public — they were also hidden from top university oversight. At UC Bolder, the Board of Regents was informed of the deal mere hours before it was announced to the public.

These deals have only been running for a couple months and it’s too soon to chart the long-term harms they’ll create in the student body. But, the Times* notes, there is an one harm that surfaced almost immediately: student athletes are now subject to vicious abuse by their fellow students, who lose money they can’t afford when their peers lose a game.

[Image ID: A gaudy casino floor. In the foreground is a figure in college graduation robes giving a double thumbs-up. His head is a grinning skull with a mortarboard.]

#pluralistic

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codenamesazanka · 1 month

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opinion on how deku is being thrown into shigaraki’s memories ?

I've said it before, but to sum it up: Lazy writing. Instead of making Deku work or even talk to discover what happened, it's being handed to him.

Also backing what @itsnothingofinterest said in this post:

I worry this could go beyond just “viewing” memories. It’s also possible Deku could start influencing Shigaraki’s recollection of events to make him more agreeable (for example, I saw someone suggest this could end with Deku saving Tenko from under the bridge instead of AFO) and I wouldn’t be a fan of that. Didn’t like when 2 out of 3 of our last League conflicts relied on mentally impairing them & I wouldn’t like it any more if it was how Deku resolved the conflict here.

But fine, whatever. He'll see the memories. He'll learn Shigaraki's damage. It's what he wanted; it's what he needs.

Thanks for the ask!

I call this lazy writing because

What we should’ve had was Deku and the UA students having to work and investigate and just talk and truly come to understand the Villains and why they are the way they are, the root causes and the bad days where they received no helped and all the tiny things that built up and led to the breaking point.

For Deku specifically, we spent all of Edgy Deku arc literally doing fuck all about ‘learn what makes Shigaraki tick deep down’ (Chapter 308), which is such a waste of an opportunity to explore—anything at all. Being cold and hungry and tired and alone, being feared and rumored to be a monster - would that make Deku reflect on a villain’s circumstances? lmao. Did he confront All Might and Gran Torino about the Shimura family, which might offer a clue? lmao. Did he request to talk to Mr. Compress, League Member and Shigaraki's Ally? lmao. The story skips over anything that might mean real effort to learn about Shigaraki, or would cause reflection.

What are we left with for Deku to discover why Shigaraki seems to be in pain? Forcing a Memory Transfer. Practically the only option left.

I know people will argue that that’s just how OFA/AFO works, it has always been hinted at, it's a good thing that Deku will finally understand what Shigaraki has been through. But it feels so unearned. He wants to save Shigaraki, he wants to learn about Shigaraki -> he doesn't do any work that contributes to this, instead he happens upon it via surprise psychic link.

If I was being generous, I might allow that he’s being rewarded on having faith in Shigaraki’s inner goodness… but that also isn't working because his faith has never been seriously challenged, unless you count Nana and Gran Torino giving their one (1) doomerism line and Shigaraki provoking him. There was Bakugou's 'death' that ShigAFO caused... but Mirio was able to immediately calm Deku down and then Bakugou came back alive before Deku began trying to pry open the lid so. net zero loss/gain there.

(I also feel like, if the memories should be handed to him like this, it should've been done earlier, and turned into an extra burden of a different sort? Deku's got all these memories, this sympathy—but everyone around him tells him, so what? Shigaraki has suffered, but so have other people. He has suffered, but now he creates suffering. His memories are irrelevant to the fact that he needs to be defeated; his memories will be useful in rebuilding society after the war, but Shigaraki himself is beyond saving. And Deku should've had to reckon with that.)

And if it's not lazy writing—

Shigaraki said those words about "the destruction of everything stemming from that house" in Chapter 379. It is now 416. The Shigaraki-Deku fight doesn't start properly until 410, fine—but through the past six chapters, Deku literally had to be psychically-physically in front of the damn house in order to reflect on Shigaraki's words.

This is because Deku refuses to talk and have a proper conversation with Shigaraki. Ever since the end of Jaku, Deku gets one glimpse of the Crying Child and knows Something Is Wrong, but because Shigaraki declines to just explain the rest of it to him, Deku doesn't ask.

(If you look at his previous 'saves', we can see no wonder - Deku gets the tragic backstories told to him. Todoroki straight up just reveals his family’s dark secret. Mandalay was able to explain what Kouta’s issue was, literally telling Deku ‘he’s not being raised normally, he’s an orphan with dead hero parents’. The full extent of Eri’s abuse is revealed via official Hero investigation and deductions about Overhaul’s operations - which I like best because it flowed more naturally, with the horror element dawning on the characters. Deku learns not from Hawks about the crimes of the HPSC, it's only because Nagant herself exposed it to him. The Aoyama reveal is largely by Hagakure/accident/carelessness on his parents’ part.

I think Gentle is the only guy he sympathize with without knowing the full extent of his backstory?)

Does Deku, now unable to "ignore what he saw," ask Shigaraki "Hey, what do you mean by 'that house'?" Does he actually ask out loud, "Shigaraki! Why can't you let go of that lonely past?" Does he ever go, "Hey, I saw you and you were so sad. Why? And what happened to that dog?"

No. Deku makes statements about saving Shigaraki, about wanting to save that Crying Child, about how Shigaraki is a person, but all those are cool one-liners, and they feel barely even directed at Shigaraki himself.

Remember how in Chapter 360, Mirio asks ShigAFO why he destroys, and he gets an answer? Remember how Mirio engaged with ShigAFO, and that led to Tenko surfacing to angrily retort he does have friends? Asking questions has proven to have an effect!

And you can't say "Shigaraki is refusing to open up," when Shigaraki has been so chatty. You also can't just dismiss this by theoretically saying "Shigaraki would never open up, it's pointless to try, it's a guaranteed failure," when Deku literally hasn't tried, cross it off the list before moving on. Deku is just not engaging with the guy in front of him, but rather just looking for the Crying Child, and at best that's him being the world's most incurious guy, and at worst being a condescending ass.

#anon #anonymous #asked #ask #answered #bnha spoilers #spoilers #Chapter 416 #nalslastworkingbraincell

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