#which would make my idea false automatically

[literally-1894]

So, Lothric, Gwyndolin's (probable but not determined) nephew, imitates him quite a bit. Not only do they have a lot of physical resemblance between eachother, as well as the same VA, but Lothric hides at the back of a room in a very Gwyndolin-like manner and uses the same variant of Homing Soulmass as Gwyndolin, though Lothric's sorceries seem to do holy damage and *might* have more to do with the Angel Worship of Gertude (Lothric's younger sister, ergo Gwyndolin's probable niece).

The one depiction of Allfather Lloyd we have is pretty difficult to parse, as it is a sprite of a single coin. Lloyd's associated covenant is called the Way of the White and their symbol is a white ring, and "white ring" is the semantic meaning of "Gwyndolin". Furthermore, as Lloyd is described as being Gwyn's uncle, though this is disputed by later generations of the Way of the White by the time of DSIII, Lloyd would also be Gwyndolin's granduncle.

Does this mean that Allfather Lloyd is/was as feminine as Gwyndolin and Lothric?

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

I mentioned in a letter about autism that one of my special interests is sun safety which prompted multiple people to request a letter about that (which is really kind and touching!) - so let’s talk about sun safety! 

First things first: sun safety means protecting your skin from the sun or more specifically, from harmful UV radiation. There are two main reasons to protect yourself: in the short term, you avoid painful sunburns and in the long term, you lower your risk of skin cancer. 

Most skin cancers are caused by too much exposure to UV radiation. UV radiation damage is cumulative. This means that it adds up over the years - which is why it’s so important to practice sun safety every day rather than just on especially sunny days. 

Skin cancer is actually the most common cancer and it can affect people of all ages. 

Luckily, it is highly treatable if detected early  and treated promptly - but it is still a serious and even lifethreatening disease. Depending on the type of skin cancer, it can spread rapidly and it can kill you. The biggest reason to practice sun safety is to prevent that! 

I think a lot of messaging around sun safety nowadays wrongly focuses on anti-aging benefits. It’s true that UV damage can also contribute to wrinkles and skin sagging - but focusing on that can falsely portray sun safety as an optional beauty thing rather than a necessary health thing. Wrinkles and saggy skin are a normal, natural part of getting older - skin cancer isn’t.

UV radiation isn’t the same every day. You can check weather apps or websites and will find daily UV levels there. You need to practice sun safety if the level is 3 or higher. Depending on where you live, this may be nearly daily or only during summer months. Many people find it easier to just practice sun safety every day (so it becomes an automatic habit like brushing your teeth or showering, something you just do as part of your routine without needing to consciously remind yourself) while others prefer to check the UV level daily and base it on that. That’s just a matter of what works best for you personally. 

So, what does sun safety entail? You’re probably thinking of sunscreen and that is an important part of it, but not all of it! A fun way to remember all the steps is „Slip, slop, slap, seek, slide“: 

Slip into clothes

Slop on sunscreen 

Slap on a hat 

Seek shade 

Slide on sunglasses 

Slip into clothes: Skin that is covered by clothes is protected from UV rays. So a shirt with long sleeves offers more protection than one with short sleeves! (But of course you also need to prevent heatstroke, so it’s key to find a balance between covering skin and not overheating). All clothes (except for sheer or hole-y fabrics like lace) will protect you well but the ideal choice would be dense fabrics in dark colors. 

Slop on sunscreen: All skin that isn’t covered by clothes needs to be covered in sunscreen. We will go into more details on sunscreen below. 

Slap on a hat: Wear a wide-brimmed hat to protect your scalp and get some extra protection for your neck, ears and face, too (though you should also cover those body parts in sunscreen!). Baseball caps are better than nothing but do not offer the same protection for your neck and ears. 

Seek shade: It’s a myth that clouds or rain protect you from UV rays. Shade however reduces them! So, use natural shade from trees, get into a gazebo or bring a sun umbrella. 

Slide on sunglasses: You can get skin cancer around or even in the eyes as well. UV radiation can also increase your risk for other eye conditions. So make sure to get sunglasses with UV protection. Look for a label that says it offers UVA + UVB protection (more on that below). 

And of course: staying inside will protect you! Obviously you can’t stay inside forever (that would be bad for your physical and mental health in other ways) but it can be a good idea to stay home during hours with especially high UV levels (8 and above). UV levels are often highest around midday. 

Some more details on sunscreen: 

The best sunscreen brand is the one you feel comfortable using daily. Whether it’s chemical or mineral, expensive or cheap, no matter what the texture and way of application (gel, lotion, spray, roll-on etc.) is… none of that matters if you hate using it and end up not making a habit out of it. Sure, if you wanna get nerdy with it, some offer more protection than others. For example, gels or lotions usually offer more than sprays, simply because there’s more product that actually ends up on your skin rather than in the air. But if you can’t stand the feeling of lotion on your skin and will realistically only use sprays, then a spray is the best option for you! Go with the one that you actually like using. 

Much more important than the exact brand are the following criteria: 

Choose one that’s at least SPF30 but ideally SPF50 or SPF50+. (This means that it’s a high level of protection. More specifically, it means that it multiplies the time your skin is protected from UV rays by 30/50.) 

Choose one that says „broad spectrum“ or „UVA and UVB“. (This means that it protects you from different kinds of UV radiation. This is a very oversimplified explanation but you can say UVA rays are longer than UVB rays, so they harm different layers of your skin.)

Choose one that’s water-resistant. (This means it’ll keep up 50% of its protection even if you get wet or sweaty. Important: you still need to re-apply after swimming!). 

A quick note on chemical vs. mineral: they both achieve the same goal, they just do it in different ways. Chemical ones basically absorb the UV rays and turn them harmless, mineral ones physically block the UV rays from reaching your skin. Both have their pros and cons in usage (Mineral ones work immediately after application and are often more gentle to dry or sensitive skin but can leave a white cast and feel heavy on the skin. Chemical ones are lightweight and transparent on the skin but can need up to 20 minutes to work and can be irritating for some people with dry or sensitive skin). But they both work well to prevent skin cancer. It’s a question of personal preference. 

How to use sunscreen? First of all: It’s important to use enough. You need around seven teaspoons for your whole body. If only some body parts are exposed, a good guideline is: one teaspoon for your head and one teaspoon for each limb. 

It‘s also important to really cover all body parts (that aren’t covered by clothes). Don’t forget your ears, neck, scalp (if not covered by hat), hands, feet (if not fully covered by shoes) and lips (there are lip balms with SPF!). 

You need to re-apply (or head inside) after two hours. You also need to re-apply after swimming or heavy sweating (like after a workout). 

Try to store your sunscreen in a dark and cool place. Hot temperatures can make it expire more quickly. Check expiration dates of unused sunscreens before use. Replace opened sunscreens after twelve months. Old sunscreens can be less effective and some ingredients can turn harmful when expired. 

Remember that makeup products with SPF can only be an addition, not a replacement of actual sunscreen. You simply don’t use enough of them to work as sunscreen. Oftentimes, you’d need to use a ridiculous amount of product to even reach the promised protection. The only exception would be the mentioned lip balms (since most people wouldn’t put actual sunscreen on their lips). 

Last but not least: know that black people and other people of color need sunscreen, too! Your skin color doesn’t offer automatic protection. Or, well, it might offer up to SPF 13 - but as we have seen above, that’s not enough to protect you from skin cancer. Plus, if you have white doctors, it’s a sad reality that they may not be as trained in recognizing skin cancer on dark skin. Skin cancer tends to be diagnosed later in black people. Which is all the more reason to protect yourself! 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

P.S: and of course: don’t use tanning beds. They do not provide any health benefits and are not a safe alternative to natural sunlight. Instead, they’re heavily linked to skin cancer, especially in people younger than 35 years old. Even one single session can increase your risk. It’s just not worth it. 

[keiffeine]

HELLOOOO ^^ i just read again ur jealous keith nsfw and i was just wondering if u still wrote for vld!!! need more jealous keith content pls🤲🤲 anyways i love ur writing!!! keep it up!!!<3

with gender-neutral reader.

genre: suggestive towards the cut

author’s note: super duper freaking late on this anon. so, so sorry, but thanks for your request!! it is so hard to get my ass to write and it’s the first time i’ve posted something in so long. (all 5 active keiffeine fans cheering rn.) some hcs are sort of repeats from the first part—just think of it as a revision. ;P a little rushed towards the end!

reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is not allowed.

part one of jealous keith here!

• keith hates when he has moments of jealousy. he feels like he’s being ridiculous. he trusts you, and he knows that you’ll never leave him, but he can’t help it. the stupid voice in the back of his mind keeps feeding him false ideas and he just can’t seem to quiet it down.

• this mostly occurs during diplomatic events, when aliens are chatting you up, making you laugh and smile. he feels his stomach coil uncomfortably. what are they saying? are they making you swoon with stupid jokes and witty pickup lines? do you think they’re more attractive than he is?

• the thought of walking over, pulling you away with a half-assed excuse is tempting, but he forces himself not to. he doesn’t want to look like some sort of pathetic, possessive boyfriend who couldn’t stand not having his partner’s attention on him.

• he’s very avoidant about it, as he’s not a fan of talking about all the jealousy stuff. if he thinks he’s ridiculous in his own mind, it would be even worse telling someone out loud. at some point, shiro asks him what’s wrong, notices the way keith’s got a tight grip around his cup. to which keith responds—“it’s nothing.”

• at the end of the night, keith’s still noticeably tense even when you return to your shared room. the tension between you is thick and uncomfortable. keith avoids your eyes, jaw clenched as he takes off his paladin armor.

• you follow suit and start stripping to get ready for bed, too, but the silence is absolutely killing you.

• “keith, are you alright?” you ask, turning your head to face him. you’re met with his naked back, muscles flexing with every movement. in any other scenario, the sight would’ve turned you on, but you can’t think of anything else but to resolve this awkwardness between you.

• “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” keith responds. it’s a little too quick, as if automatic. his voice is stiff and clipped, and it makes you bite your lip nervously.

• you turn away and slowly pull on a shirt. it’s silent again for a good minute until keith suddenly presses up against your back, hands wrapping around your middle. he pulls you closer so your back is pressed right up to his bare chest, the heat of his body melting through the fabric of your shirt.

• you suck in a breath when keith presses his lips to the back of your neck, trailing down slowly, ending at your shoulder. he’s silent, and then: “i love you.” it’s soft, quiet. there’s a hint of nervousness to it that makes you borrow your eyebrows.

• “i love you, too,” you respond, cheeks growing warm while you turn your head just slightly to look at him over your shoulder. “you’re sure you’re okay?”

• “just…” keith bites his bottom lip, choosing his words carefully. “just wanna show you how much i love you.”

• he takes you to the bed, the rest of the night going by in a blur. keith’s on top of you and your lips clash in passionate, messy kisses. eventually, your clothes come off one by one, scattered all over the floor, with your legs hitched onto his hips. “you’re mine, okay? no one else’s.” keith grunts, hips snapping against yours, causing you to gasp. you almost see white for a split-second, voice caught in your throat so you nod instead.

voltron masterlist

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[sgiandubh]

In other news...

Remember this tiny business charade, back in January 2024?

[Source: the UK's Companies House website - https://find-and-update.company-information.service.gov.uk/company/15374750]

At the time of its sudden appearance on the fandom's radars, it was discussed to death. Two things mainly intrigued: the company's unusual name and the fact it was registered in England, not Scotland. For further details, kindly see this post, especially if you are new and have no idea this ever happened: https://sgiandubh.tumblr.com/post/740086132385218560/so-sam-is-no-longer-scottish-he-now-appears-as - posted on January 21st 2024, which is to say an eternity ago.

At the time, my own speculation was that he might have blocked a slot for further business projects, since changing the company's name is usually very easy. Same goes for the address, provided it would also be in England, only.

In the light of not so recent, but totally ignored events, it would seem things were a bit different, though:

Quietly dissolved by Companies House UK on 17 December 2024, after its address was automatically changed to the UK's Companies House default, somewhere in Wales.

What happened?

In a nutshell, the accounting office provided at registration as the new company's address more than probably disputed it, for false or fraudulent use. I immediately remind you and all the other 'experts' out there (ahem...), that Companies House never checks the provided address at the moment of the company's registration. Given the activity rhythm, that would be materially impossible, not to mention the operative/maintenance costs. Thus, UK legislation simply provides for sanctions, hoping it would be enough to discourage or warn cheap thrills amateurs about the consequences of any fraudulent use.

[Source: https://commonslibrary.parliament.uk/companies-house-faqs-address-fraud-and-correcting-the-register/]

Companies House then changed the registered address to their own default one, on 1 August 2024, allowing 28 days for the company to make the necessary corrections.

This did not happen and so, the UK Companies House went all the way and gave a first notice for compulsory strike-off, on 24 September 2024...

... followed by the final strike off notice, on 17 December 2024, since the company clearly failed to do so:

This happened for a very clear reason, that nobody - including myself - was able to identify or substantiate at the time the news of its apparition hit our screens. Reason being this was likely a hoax, by bored fans who went all the way to registering a company, just for shits and giggles.

How was this even possible?

Easy: under the current UK legal provisions, literally anyone with a keyboard can register a company on behalf of literally anyone else. Provided they know some simple, basic facts about the person involved:

[Source: https://www.gov.uk/limited-company-formation/register-your-company?step-by-step-nav=37e4c035-b25c-4289-b85c-c6d36d11a763]

For example:

Town of birth: Balmaclellan, Scotland

Mother's maiden name: Leat

Father's first name: David

All these informations are readily available to a keen (obsessed?) reader of S's Waypoints memoir. Which does mention his maternal uncle, a widely appreciated wicker sculptor (and author of the Fire Cross episode bonfire in the series, by the way):

[Source: screenshot from my own ebook]

Sidenote: S also mentions Owen Scott, his mother's partner, as a 'dear family friend'. Oh, how Victorian and ultimately how revealing. Made me think of this very recent statement, actually:

[Source: https://deadline.com/2025/06/sam-heughan-macbeth-royal-shakespeare-company-debut-1236421062/]

Circling back to the unpronounceable company, it goes to show how far some unknown idiots are ready to go, in their quest for an ultimately delusional relevance, for I also remind you where we are: on the fringes of a dwindling fandom, akin to a supernova, which is to say a dying star. Yes, as far as spending £50 (which is, by the way, a ridiculous amount) to register a fake company on S's behalf. I also happen to doubt S knows about all this, but if he doesn't - well: he should, because this can also be construed as whoever dunnit's intention to harm his and his businesses reputation.

I have an idea, but I choose to remain silent, because it is simply a hunch I am perfectly unable to substantiate.

PS: Thank you, dearie, always 😘😘😘😘. Your tips are superb and your affection - real and deeply mutual. But you obviously know all this.

[miwiheroes]

Dropping Byler Evidence Every (Other) Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 31: The Painting is Chekhov's Gun . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Sorry for not doing one of these in like.... a really long time lmao I've just been writing fics really hahaha

Anyways I'm back to talk about 'Chekhov's Gun' and how it relates to the Painting in S4. In summary, this basically means that the lie about the painting can't not pay off. There is no way that the painting conversation will go unanswered, or the writers would kind of be making a bad decision, leaving the story unsatisfying. It is a dangling plot, a introduced plot point that can't go unanswered.

So what is 'Chekhov's Gun'?

In short terms, this is the principle that any detail in a story should serve a purpose in the overall narrative to fulfil the viewer/reader's expectations. This basically encourages writers not to make false promises in their narrative by including random details that seem important, keeping the audience on the edge of their seats, but with no payoff.

This literary device has actually been used in Stranger Things a lot already. There are so so many examples, but some examples I can think of include:

Will coughs up slugs in the sink at the end of Season 1 -> D'art appears in Season 2 and the Demodogs are grown from this.

Will falls off his bike and the camera lingers on this when he goes missing -> Hopper and the police find his bike and bring it to Joyce.

Hopper says that falling off the quarry into the water will kill you -> Will's 'body' is found there and Mike later jumps off.

Argyle talks to Jonathan about taking 'Purple Palm Tree Delight' -> They use the same thing to distract the SBP guy when they're trying to commandeer the store.

Max draws her and Lucas in the Creel House -> Drawing is later seen in the hospital.

Eddie says that he wants to be a hero -> ends up being called a hero and dies one.

This is just some. Notice how all of these cause a shift to the plot.

Already in this scene, the Chekhov is gunning, the painting which we have constantly been shown during the whole season is finally being revealed to Mike. Which means the gun goes off in that respect. But, another gun is introduced:

Will's Lie - the painting is from 'El' not him.

This lie needs to be revealed. This would be the case in any other show. But in Stranger Things??? The show where El's lie about her friends is revealed to Mike and Will criticises her for lying??? The show which has its main slogan as Friends don't lie????

But didn't Will's painting pay off in the Love Monologue Scene?

No, because Mike still holds the disbelief that this was about El. That's my first point which should convince you, but also:

There are consequences to Will's lie of course -> Mike ends up being called 'The Heart' by Will in a crucial moment, which causes him to say I love you to El. This could not have happened without the van scene between him and Will. It's kind of insane that the only reason Mike feels like he can say I love you to her is because of a LIE. Will has no idea what El really feels.

So now we've established that this scene has it's impact as a lie, we must also see how it can have impact once the truth is revealed:

EITHER:

Mike finds out that Will's painting is a lie but it doesn't change his feelings for El. They stay together and Will accepts that Mike doesn't love him back.

OR Mike finds out that Will's painting is a lie and confronts what this means for the way that he told El he loved her. Mike and Will, despite the reasons for Will's lying (that he's given up on Mike loving him back), end up together.

Scenario one cannot happen because it will not change a thing. The plot will not change or shift.

If the 'gun' in this case actually fires, why would this mean things stay the same?

Mileven's relationship was doomed the moment Mike was motivated by a lie to confess. It automatically makes his words inauthentic and not strong enough because they aren't coming from him. It heavily involves the second love interest's feelings, which would be very strange not to address. The writers have done this lie thing before:

Jonathan told Nancy that Steve took her home - to make her feel more secure in their relationship instead of telling the truth.

Said selfless love interest ends up with the person they wanted. Because writing it this way makes the second love interest look more deserving of the love from the person in the middle. It's pretty simple. They are the one shown to give up so much for them. The writers made the choice to have Will be the one to constantly reassure Mike about his troubles and insecurities. They made him the one to make him feel confident again and give him the exact love that he wants -> to be needed.

Mileven has been shown not to understand each other in this way - El explicitly says that Mike doesn't understand her and she no longer acknowledges that he was bullied.

Will knew that Mike was feeling worthless so he emphasised that he was a leader and protector that inspired and guided everyone. And Mike clearly loved hearing all of that! He was completely enamoured in this scene, and no one can argue against that right? Even if it was just because of the words, they're still Will's feelings!

Mike felt insecure in his relationship, it makes him feel like he's not needed anymore, but Will was able to get rid of that with a single painting and a half-confession about his own feelings. It is a very obvious way of showing the contrast between 2 love interests.

Basically, the painting was a plot device, but not to fix Mileven's relationship at all. Lots of Bylers thought that at first, but that's the thing. It's supposed to seem that way at first. Instead, it is actually a way of fooling you and setting up Mileven's inevitable downfall and Byler getting together. There is no other way of satisfyingly resolving this plotline.

People may come up with other reasons, but that's not because they are plausible reasons, it's just because people don't want Byler.

[feralrabidcrow]

The Mercs Driving - Updated

So a bit over a year ago, I made a post about my headcanons around the mercs and their driving abilities. I figured it wouldn't hurt to do a new one! Only because I have been thinking about Scout and driving and decided okay the others can get updated too a bit. As a treat. Who knows, maybe I'll update some other old posts too.

Scout: A little known fact about Scout is that he knows how to hotwire a car. A logical assumption based on this knowledge would be that he can also drive a car. This assumption would be, in fact, false. One of his brothers had taught him how to hotwire, because you never know when you'll be in a tight spot and need to 'borrow' a car. He knows how to drive in the technical sense. He knows how to start a car, where the brakes and accelerator are, et cetera et cetera. But when he actually tries to drive, he's really bad at it.

I believe this is because Scout is small and agile, used to having a lot of flexible mobility. A car, in contrast, is a big metal machine that is very much not flexible. Once he's in a driver's seat, he loses all spatial awareness, and feels awkward and out of place. This is also why he can drive something like a motorcycle, because a motorcycle is small and 'agile' in comparison to a car. RIP Scout TF2 you would have loved Smart Cars. Anyways, in a really dire situation, he can technically drive. He's just really bad at it and is guaranteed to hit something. Traffic laws will be broken.

Soldier: Like Scout, Soldier is an abysmal driver. Unlike Scout, Soldier believes that he is actually a good driver. This makes him a much greater danger around any automobile. He has been known to steal the company van for undisclosed reasons, and it always comes back a little worse for wear. Sometimes when the van disappears, the car keys are still back in the garage where they're meant to be. Also unlike Scout, Soldier doesn't actually know how to operate a vehicle. He just pushes and pulls at things until the car moves forward.

Additionally, the only person who allows Soldier to ride shotgun with them is Demoman. Having Soldier as a passenger is only marginally less dangerous than having him as your driver. He's loud and disruptive, pushes buttons he probably shouldn't, and historically has caused most of the accidents where the driver was someone who actually knows how to drive.

Pyro: No one has seen Pyro drive, and they all assume Pyro can't drive, because they have no way of confirming Pyro can or cannot drive unless they put Pyro behind the wheel. Which is a scary idea in the scenario where Pyro cannot. But the truth is, Pyro not only can drive, but does drive.

It just so happens that by some weird law of the universe (cartoon logic), nobody has noticed this. Somehow, every time Pyro takes the company van out for whatever they want to go do, nobody has any reason to go into the garage and notice the missing vehicle, and nobody needs to find Pyro for anything.

Demoman: Demoman is probably one of the most average drivers of the bunch. He can drive perfectly fine, he obeys traffic laws, and he somehow gets by without any depth perception. However, he has to be in the sweet spot where he's had enough to drink to avoid withdrawal, but he hasn't had so much to drink that he's in a state of incompetence.

There's also the tiny issue that if he gets pulled over, he will automatically fail any breathalyzer test, no matter how much he's had to drink, because his body literally produces its own alcohol. So Demoman is rarely the driver for the full team when they have somewhere to be, and most of his driving is done on his own time.

Heavy: Heavy can drive, and Heavy will drive. But this does not mean that Heavy likes to drive. Because most vehicles are designed for puny baby men, and not giant men who can crush skulls in their fists. Having to be hunched over in a tiny driver's seat puts Heavy in a bad mood, and nobody likes when Heavy is in a bad mood. So he only drives when he absolutely has to, such as in cases where everyone else he is with is unable to drive, such as seen in Expiration Date, where he has to drive because he's with Scout and Soldier, who cannot.

Engineer: Engineer is all around good with vehicles. He knows everything about any automobile you could bring him, and if he doesn't, he'll just take it apart and find out. He can also drive just about anything, with perfect precision and skill. Being a tinkerer, he often takes the opportunity to 'operate' on whatever vehicle he has at his disposal.

This includes those that aren't even his, such as Spy's car. It however does not include Sniper's van, as his first and last attempt almost ended in bloodshed. Spy's car nearly went the same way, but upon seeing how much faster it could go with the upgrades, Spy decided to find it in his heart to forgive the labourer. Sniper was not so easily persuaded.

Medic: Medic never bothered to get a driver's license. It seemed like such a waste of time, to get something he would probably end up losing in the future anyways. If there's anything Medic has learned, it's that licenses are overrated bits of paper, and it's the actual skill that ultimately matters. He happily drives around in his makeshift ambulance, stocked with emergency equipment and small organ refrigerators.

If any police officer dares to pull him over and ask for his license and registration, well, who is he to say no to more free organs? Medic has also had a history of grand theft auto, a most notable example being when he stole a catering van with some doves from a wedding.

Sniper: Sniper feels most at home when he's on the road. He's lived in his van as long as he's had it, that being since he could drive. The van is practically his soulmate. However, there are times when he has to be away from her, such as when he's driving the company van for everyone else. He and Engie are the most common picks for driver, with Sniper being picked just a bit more often. He's especially comfortable driving large bulky vehicles. In another life, Sniper would have been well suited to the life of a professional truck driver.

Spy: Spy drives an extremely expensive cherry red convertible sports car that easily costs more than a house. The car also has the ability to turn invisible for a period of time, which comes in handy when you need to make a getaway. And of course, a broken speedometer, courtesy of Engineer. Spy also knows how to drive a motorcycle, drive a speedboat, and fly a helicopter, but these are skills he employs less often.

[the-glorious-evolution-fanart]

what’s your take on this whole “viktor is czech” controversy im seeing so many posts about how we can’t say viktor is russian or any other Slav anymore because of harry lloyd saying he did a czech accent

(I'm answering immediately since this is kind of an active topic that will probably quickly die. Please first read my entire post.)

I am of the opinion that everyone is allowed to headcanon a character however they want, and that it's not nice to insist everyone else adopt one's own interpretation especially if it's not canon. Even if things are canon, people can always choose to purposefully ignore canon in favour of what they prefer. This says nothing about quality - that can go either way. Sometimes the original writing is bad, other times it's good and fandom interpretations are of low creativity/low understanding/quality.

This accent discussion is not a controversy, it's just a tug of war between some fans. Lower the bullying and arguments everyone! It's okay. There's not much point fighting between fans, when companies hold all the power.

~

The reality is more complex than "what canon actually says".

Previous League version

Originally, Viktor the Machine Herald was designed to on the surface quickly read like an Eastern-European mad scientist engineer, with "vibes" from the Red Scare (and things like Red Alert). It has roots in ideas about scary effective heavy machinery. He was made to have a stereotypical Hollywood Slavic accent. If people read into it as Russian, it wouldn't be incorrect, thought the company. That doesn't mean he's hard-coded as Russian. There's the opinion of the lead writer Praeco being shared online in which he says:

He makes the fast mental jump (just like many viewers/players) and lands on the surface-level stereotype, which he thinks is all there is to it. This is false. Viktor's original, release lore from 2011. has no cultural hints towards Russia nor those stereotypes. It is a great basis for developing a more detailed story, which people would certainly love if it was done in an animated medium.

What the lore does have, are similarities with Nikola Tesla, a Serbian engineer and inventor who was conned by Edison, had his work stolen and often been viewed as crazy. Viktor's in-game abilities are inspired by some of Nikola Tesla's hypothetical inventions. His staff has a Tesla coil on it.

I personally write Viktor as being Serbian-inspired due to this, and it's also easier for me as I'm Serbian, so I can make up a headcanon about old lore old Zaunites speaking this language thus explaining the accent when they speak Common; and not stress over messing up a translation. There's also the fact that we are very underrepresented in pop-culture, and even when we are, it's most often as unintelligent criminals.

That doesn't mean that people headcanoning League Viktor as being Russian-inspired are automatically incorrect.

2. Arcane Viktor

Here's the interview with the voice actor. There's a couple of things here to be noted. He says a "frail Eastern-European scientist"... meanwhile Czechs are Western Slavs, not Eastern. This tells me the Americans leading the show didn't pay much attention to ethnicities, as those things don't matter to them.

Then Nikola Tesla is brought up again - proving the original core archetype. But Nikola Tesla was Serbian, who are South Slavs, not Eastern nor Western.

To Americans, we are all interchangeable. They really don't care. They hired a British voice actor, despite there being countless Slavic voice actors they could have contacted. I can even reach a bunch of them.

The voice actor they hired had only practiced a Czech accent in one of his previous works, and it was "close enough". And what I can say is that he doesn't sound neither Russian, nor Serbian to my ear. Our accent is way more heavy and explosive (actually pretty similar to original in-game Viktor! Just less dramatic) while Russian would be way more softer. I've seen some Czechs say he does indeed sound Czech, and I think that's completely valid! But Arcane Viktor is Czech not by design, but out of necessity.

Czechs (Česi!!!!!) are also very little represented in pop-culture. Basically non-existent. They have also historically been behind the Iron Curtain, so you must understand their position. I think people have the right to headcanon Arcane Viktor as being Czech-inspired, despite what all the inconsistencies and frankly bad mixups have been said by the production crew behind-the-scenes. And they absolutely should not be bullied and forced into headcanoning Arcane Viktor as Russian or any other ethnicity! What's in the work itself sounds Czech, not Serbian. That said, I also think people have the right to personally headcanon Arcane Viktor as any ethnicity-inspired as they wish. Just know the state of things like I shared here, say what your personal headcanon is and don't vaguepost or bully other people. Those throwing rocks first should stop.

3. In the end, I personally view Arcane Viktor as Czech-inspired, League Viktor as Serbian-inspired, but it's not even wrong to consider him generally Slavic-inspired, as these nationalities really don't exist in Runeterra. Political situation aside.

[blacktofade]

not sure if you're still taking gemtho prompts but something with secret relationship/relationship reveal 👀 that isn't much to go off of so it could definitely be paired with another prompt too, i just love that trope (my brain goes to rpf since i love the idea of them trying and failing to hide a relationship from the viewers, but could be in game too)

I'm back to fill more gemtho prompts from earlier this year! I'm not setting a schedule though. You guys will get them as I find time and/or motivation. Enjoy!!

--

Impulse first notices him when Gem steps through the front door of the hotel in Detroit. She’s laughing, glancing over her shoulder at him, and he’s smiling, one hand tucked against the small of her back, the touch clearly familiar. He’s tall with dark hair, and sticks close as Gem pauses just inside the entrance way, dropping her backpack on the ground and crouching to dig through it.

For just a moment, the man looks over, maybe sensing Impulse’s stare, but he doesn’t react, just glances back down at Gem, offering his hand on her elbow when she stands up again. She’s holding something that might be her wallet, but she passes it over, saying something that Impulse can’t hear from across the other side of the lobby.

The man dips down, kissing Gem — quick and chaste — and she smiles, watching him walk away toward the check-in desk.

Impulse almost startles when she turns, catching his gaze, like she’s known he was there the whole time.

Her smile widens and she pulls her backpack on, jogging toward him, as though she can’t contain her excitement.

“Impy!” she says, dragging him into a hug once she’s close enough, and it’s effortless to fold around her, quickly forgetting about everything apart from how much he’s missed her.

“Hey, Gem,” he murmurs into her hair, giving her an extra squeeze, just so she knows how happy he is to see her.

“Is that Gemstone?” a voice says behind them and Gem laughs, finally letting Impulse go as Skizz moves in to sweep her up, lifting her straight off the ground.

“Careful,” Impulse warns, stepping back, but neither of them seem to hear and Tango laughs as he sidles up beside him.

“You think they’re listening?”

“About as well as my kids,” Impulse scoffs and Tango laughs again.

“Are you surprised?”

Impulse isn’t. At all. What he is surprised by is the guy Gem’s with, who’s now edging past them, carry-on bag in tow. But he doesn’t stop to check in with Gem, doesn’t even glance in their direction, just heads toward the elevators, a keycard held in one hand.

“Did you know Gem was bringing her boyfriend?” Impulse asks without thinking, and Tango offers him a look, like he’s lost his entire mind.

“Why would she tell me?”

Which he supposes is his issue, because why would she tell him either? They’re close, but he’s far from being Gem’s confidant.

Impulse tries to shrug as casually as he can. “Was just wondering.”

In front of him, Gem finally untangles herself from Skizz’s grasp before noticing Tango’s there.

Their hug isn’t as enthusiastic — probably much to Tango’s relief — but Gem pulls away, grinning.

“It feels good to be back together,” she tells them. “Where are the others?”

Impulse is pretty sure Grian’s napping in his room, and Pearl isn’t due in until later that night, but he thinks False and Zed are in the hotel’s bar already.

“They’re around,” Skizz promises. “C’mon, let’s get you a drink. You look like you could use one.”

Gem blows out a breath. “I look that bad, huh?”

“The worst I’ve ever seen,” Skizz jokes, nudging her with his elbow as though to make sure she knows he’s only messing about.

“Not surprising,” Gem starts, already walking with Skizz, heading toward the back of the hotel. “The airline lost my bag.”

Impulse finds himself following, automatically glancing over at the elevators as they pass. But the mystery guy isn’t there and Gem doesn’t seem concerned about wandering off without him.

“Man, that sucks,” Skizz says and Impulse belatedly makes a noise of agreement.

“Might need a couple of drinks,” he adds and Gem laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Please.”

-

Gem shows up for breakfast in a flannel shirt that definitely isn’t hers. She makes it look good — the bottom of it tied at her waist, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows — but the collar hangs open, the shoulders too broad.

It’s a man’s shirt.

“Heard anything about your luggage?” he tries, digging into the scrambled egg whites that he’d paid extra for.

Gem shakes her head, sipping at a mug of tea, a picked-apart pastry in front of her. “Nothing yet. Think I’m gonna have to do a clothes-run before the event today.”

Gem doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d enjoy a last minute shopping spree, but maybe she’ll drag Pearl with her to make it fun. Or maybe her secret boyfriend.

“What’s wrong with that?” he asks, tipping his head toward the shirt she’s in, and she smiles like they both know damn well what.

“Did you sleep well?” she asks, cleanly changing the subject completely, and Impulse shouldn’t be surprised.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m so nervous, I think I’m gonna have to take a second shower later.”

She laughs, not unkindly. “You’ll have a good time once it starts,” she promises, and Impulse knows that, but that doesn’t mean the jitters will go away.

“What about you?” he asks. “How’d you sleep after everything?”

She takes another mouthful of tea, swallowing before answering. “We woke up early. I guess even just a little time difference can mess me up.”

We. Not I. She means herself and whoever’s up in her room right now.

“You’ll both have to go to bed earlier tonight,” he says, wanting to push, to make sure she knows he heard the slip-up, and Gem grins, clearly enjoying this game they’re playing.

“Guess so,” she agrees, but Impulse already knows that with the group they have, there’s no way anyone is bailing early.

Impulse takes a drink of his coffee, watching her silently, and under the table, her foot gently knocks into his own, once and then again — not an accident.

“This’ll be a fun weekend,” she says and something uncurls in Impulse’s stomach.

He’s getting too caught up in his own thoughts and she’s right. They’re there to have a good time.

Gem keeping part of her life private isn’t something he should take personally. If he did, he’d need to have beef with everyone else on the server. Except maybe Skizz. He almost knows too much about that guy.

He offers her a smile and finds himself nodding. “Yeah,” he agrees. “It will.”

-

He might be less upset about the situation, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to push.

“Snacks for later?” he asks when they’re riding the elevator back upstairs together, watching as she tries to carry a cup of coffee, a banana, a chocolate muffin, and a bowl of fresh fruit.

She glances over at him, the corner of her mouth curled up, before she holds out the bowl.

“Can you hold that for me?”

She doesn’t answer the question, but Impulse still finds himself doing as she asks. He’s a sucker like that.

“Didn’t know you liked coffee,” he tries instead, and her eyes are bright, like she knows what he’s doing.

The elevator slows, the doors opening with a quiet groan.

“C’mon,” Gem says, tipping her head. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Impulse’s room is two floors above and he knows he should probably go back so he can brush his teeth and get ready for the rest of their day, but he hesitates, watching Gem hold the door with her elbow.

He waits a beat, then another, and then nods, his curiosity getting the better of him.

She’s silent as she leads the way down the hallway, but eventually she stops by a room near the fire exit, knocking on the door in a familiar rhythm.

Apparently, she didn’t bring her key. But it doesn’t matter, because after a moment, the door swings open to reveal the man Impulse had seen the day before.

His expression is gentle when he looks at Gem, but shifts into something cooler — maybe a little uncertain — when he notices Impulse is there with her.

“I wanted you two to finally meet,” Gem says, glancing between them, and for some reason Impulse feels the need to vet the guy. Like Gem is his daughter and he wants to make sure she’s not picking up some random lowlife, someone Impulse deems unworthy.

He squares his shoulders and holds out his hand.

“Hey,” he says, “I’m Scott.”

The guy in the doorway shifts, smiling as he takes Impulse’s hand and shakes it firmly.

“Hi, Scott, I’ve heard so much about you,” the man says, and Impulse’s eyes widen as he recognizes the voice.

Gem laughs, delighted, stepping closer to fit herself against the man’s side, grinning at Impulse, clearly pleased with herself.

Impulse finally drops his hand back down, but there’s no doubt in his mind.

“Etho?” he asks, earning a laugh — the same he’s heard in-game so many times before.

“Hey, Impulse,” Etho replies easily, and Impulse’s mind goes a little blank.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s kind of a half-way point for both of us,” Gem tells him. “We figured it would be an easy way to meet up again.”

Again.

“Again?” he echoes and Gem nods, like it’s not a big deal. “How long have you been meeting up?”

It feels easier to ask than whether or not they’re actually dating. Ironically, after everything, he’s suddenly almost certain it’s none of his business.

Gem shrugs with one shoulder. “First time was just before season ten began? We wanted to wait a bit before we told anyone. Y’know, in case.”

They obviously hadn’t needed to worry about that — the proof being they’re both there together, Gem tucked comfortably under Etho’s arm, like it’s exactly where she belongs.

“He’s gonna join us for the roadtrip,” Gem continues. “I thought maybe we could grab dinner together?”

Impulse is nodding before his brain can catch up. “Of course,” he agrees. “Anytime. I’d love that.”

He stares between them a little longer before laughing, perhaps from the adrenaline of the surprise.

“Skizz isn’t going to shut up about this when you tell him,” he says. “Do you know how many questions I made him cut from the podcast?”

“Part three?” Etho jokes with a laugh and Impulse shakes his head.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” he warns. “The first thing out of his mouth is gonna be ‘I told you so.’”

“We weren’t being subtle,” Gem agrees. “We’ll let him have that one.”

“I can’t believe — ” Impulse starts before laughing again. “As if my nerves weren’t frayed enough today.”

“We’re about to really find out how good you are at keeping secrets,” Gem jokes and Impulse snorts.

“Hope you guys are ready to go public then.”

Gem shifts, grinning up at Etho, who smiles back, and Impulse can see it — the affection, the respect between them.

“I think we could be,” she says, and when Etho nods, Impulse can tell they’re not lying.

Out of everyone — anyone Gem could’ve picked — he knows she’s made the right choice.

“I’m happy for you both,” he says, and as Gem smiles at him, brighter than he’s ever seen, he finds that he means it.

[atrueneutral]

Any thoughts on warlock!Tav? I don't know which would be more fun, having Raphael as a patron or Raphael being jealous of Tav's patron 🤭

They were four moves in, and Tav had yet to learn why Raphael had called her to the Devil’s Den.

She doubted it was as simple as a ‘friendly match of lanceboard’; there was always something just shy of his ambitious reach, and she was waiting for when he would be forthright about what that something was.

Thus far for their appointment, the fiend (in his mortal disguise) offered only polite pleasantries; an inquiry about how she was faring after being rid of the tadpole, a recommendation that she try a glass of ‘perfectly aged wine he’d been saving for her’, and, of course, a ‘friendly’ game of lanceboard (to ‘personally witness her strategic skills in action’).

And here they were; barely talking as she concentrated with a pinched brow on what move to make next, all while Raphael stared at her with a glint in his eye and the faintest of smirks on his lips.

She was a piece down (lanceboard was not a strong suit of hers), meaning he was in the lead.

Which was probably the main reason as to why he looked so arrogant and relaxed.

Tav bit her lip in question of whether to move her priest or send out another pawn.

“Am I correct in the knowledge that you’ve been in a pact with your patron for a few years?” he asked.

More pleasantries - so that the scales of their appointment didn’t tip towards awkwardness.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Tav answered softly. The reply was automatic; all attention was centered on the game before her.

She wanted to win - especially when her opponent was none other than Raphael.

The white priest slid to a free space, and, in response, Raphael swiftly mirrored a similar move with his black priest.

“Tell me about this patron of yours, my dear.”

Her previously focused gaze flicked up from the board to meet that oh-so-devilish glint, and, in response, Tav’s eyes mirrored his in forming a glint of their own; it was a mischievous twinkle that her fey patron would appreciate and applaud - hence why the pact was offered to her to begin with.

After all, it wasn’t every day that a mortal outtricked a trickster in the middle of a dangerous wood.

“They’re from the feywild,” Tav said, her brow pinching again in pretend consideration of her the next (literal) move. Yes, lanceboard was assuredly not her strong suit, but games involving ‘Reactions from Raphael’ were a favored pastime she excelled in. “I’d ask if you knew him, or of him, but he never gave me his name…”

She glanced up, and at the mention of ‘him’, a muscle twitched in Raphael’s cheek.

“Perhaps you could describe this patron, and I would know their name? I’m versed enough in the archfey and the dealings of their ilk,” he said with the offhanded shrug of a shoulder.

What a wonderful idea!

“That’s a wonderful idea!” At that, Tav mentally bid the game of lanceboard farewell. She lifted a foot to sit on the cushion with her and rested her elbow upon her knee. Her cheek leaned into the palm of her hand, and a wistful expression was painted upon her face. “With as often as I think of him, he should be easy enough to recall…”

Raphael’s glint was becoming lost to an approaching fire on the horizon.

“He’s tall, dark, handsome - the classic, romantic type from the stories. His hair color reminds me of yours, actually, but it’s a fair bit longer - goes past his shoulders, and not a strand is out of place. Now that I think about it, he’s about your height, too. Slightly less broad-shouldered, more wiry I’d say, but still quite muscular. Not sure what he was doing in the middle of the woods without a shirt, but, hey, that’s the fey for you…”

None of it was true; Puck was a small and sprightly creature with rosy cheeks and other impish features. His hair was not long and tidy, having been an unkempt mess adorned with twigs and leaves at the time of their meeting, and also unlike her false rendering, the fey’s childlike frame had been dressed in greenery and animal skins.

“He’s very strong! Lifted me easily - ah, forgive me. That probably doesn’t help you much…”

Raphael was battling a sneer, and his relaxed pose was becoming less relaxed the more she went on.

So Tav did the next best thing.

She continued.

“There was a…” She tried to find the correct word while miming in the air with her free hand. “Certain regalness about him. I thought he might be a part of some high court of some kind. He appeared in fog and left in fog, but not before offering me a pact - which I accepted, naturally.” Tav sighed. “The whirlwind encounter, however brief it was, left me breathless. I’m so grateful to have lost my way in the woods that day.”

Raphael looked livid, and she could imagine Puck clapping.

She pushed a pawn forward. “Do you know of any fey by that description?”

“It is unfortunate that I do not,” he deadpanned.

The glint had long been lost to the fire of his burning stare.

“I believe it’s your move, Raphael.”

The cambion worked his jaw, and his tongue ran across his top teeth, emitting a slight sucking sound.

He was determining his move, but it was not a move involving lanceboard.

Tav dropped her innocence along with her tone.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

His tone dropped to match hers. “And if I was, Little Mouse?”

Humored, she huffed a breath and smiled.

“Why did you have me come?”

Raphael glanced at the board and aggressively (recklessly) took her pawn with his priest. “I wished to become your patron.”

Oh…

An exciting prospect that she’d thought about but never considered as being a possibility...

His interest in her… did it mirror her interest in him?

“I’ll tell you what,” Tav snatched his priest with her rook. “If you win this match, I’ll see what I can do about breaking my pact with Puck, and I’ll happily sign a new pact with you.”

Disdain drained the color from his face.

“Puck,” he sneered, and it was then that he knew he’d been played. “Like attracts like! I should not be surprised that one chaotic wretch of a creature was drawn to another!”

“On the contrary, surely you also believe that opposites attract?” Tav smiled with a tilt of her head. “Or have you changed your mind about wanting me, a ‘chaotic wretch’, to be your warlock?”

Raphael’s silence was confirmation that he had not changed his mind (though it disagreed with his contemptuous stare and scrunched nose).

A moment passed.

“And if you win, my dear?”

“I want a written and signed letter from you stating that you lost our lanceboard game and that you were jealous of Puck.”

The huff that left him was not the humored kind.

“I agree to the terms of this match, and you are to forfeit should I get the slightest whiff of any tricks.”

“Good thing my sleight of hand work doesn’t smell,” Tav said before dramatically cracking her knuckles.

 Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “No cheating of any kind, you fey-touched miscreant.”

Tav’s bright laugh filled the room, seemingly disarming her fiend of an opponent.

Her poor skills in strategy were likely to lose the match for her, but Tav was not bothered by the potential loss.

She’d won the more important game.

[tobiasdrake]

The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy 102 - Nobody Likes Jared Leto

Hang on, what the hell is happening now? Did we win? Did we lose?

Nozomi, explain!

Thank you, Nozomi.

So, Kurara's suffocating. Alright, A-Team, I'm going to need a show of hands to vote on whether we help her or wait for her to pass out and then claim victory.

...

What do you mean, I defected to B-Team? Uh, no, I did nothing of the sort. A made-up rule like that would never pass scrutiny in the Court of Honor System. It was an illegal move and I am still clearly and unambiguously a member of A-Team.

Look, what really matters is that this grudge match is stupid. The stakes are so, so high over the honor of a curry plate Gaku stole, and I refuse to let my future be defined by its outcome.

See, this is why we need to hold a vote. Because on the one hand, letting her pass out would be very cathartic but genuinely terrible for our ultimate goal of interlacing our two teams and learning to get along with each other. Absolutely the worst idea, but it would feel good in the moment.

But, on the other hand, I am intensely curious to know what she looks like under that mask. I've just been keeping it to myself because, like, if that's the face she wants to present then you gotta respect that.

If she wants to be a tomato then she can be a tomato. Doesn't make sense to me but I don't have to understand it; Identity is a personal choice.

Except when you're suffocating because you've been punching a brick wall for an hour and a half while wearing a big, heavy mask.

I think by Luchador rules, this automatically counts as Shouma winning the fight. Being unmasked in the ring is the ultimate career-ending shame. Or something like that.

Down, Darumi. This isn't the time for getting on your shit.

Down, Gaku. This isn't the time for getting on your shit.

...

Yeah, okay, I did not see that coming.

...

Something something, bullies are insecure cowards underneath?

Nozomi, what the fuck?

That's what the tomato's about!?

I mean, that makes sense and everything. She projects false confidence while hiding her true feelings beneath the tomato mask.

It honestly puts all the "An Oosuzuki this" " An Oosuzuki that" remarks she's made in a new light. She wasn't boasting. She was reciting her conditioning. Reminding herself how she's supposed to behave.

Kurara, maybe you should take Takemaru's training course. I mean that sincerely. I think it'd be great for you.

The "How dare you get to have this when I didn't" fallacy. Common among bitter, aging conservatives who want to pass on their abuse to the next generation.

Kurara had to bend over backwards compensating for her insecurities and so it makes her mad to see other people letting their insecurities get the better of them. If she didn't get to run then why should you?

You were playing a character and got carried away. It happens. Just... try to remember that nobody actually likes Jared Leto.

Yeah, I didn't see this coming but at least we can say with confidence that we now understand both the truth of Kurara's lineage and the truth of what she was, in fact, hiding. Which were related to one another, just not how I expected.

This also kinda makes sense of why she freaked out so hard about the curry. If she's really this sensitive, then she probably felt hurt and maybe even bullied when Gaku stole her curry. Which Tomato Bisque channeled into a violent "WHO DARES STEP UP TO THE ELITE!?!?" overreaction.

Holy shit, did we all actually grow closer as a community by this impromptu team-building exercise? What the fuck, guys?

Congratulations, Shouma. Ganbatte, my guy. You persevered until the task was done.

Wait.

I don't like where this is heading.

Guys, the wager was bullshit when were going to be the losers of it and it's bullshit now. We aren't actually going to....

...okay then.

You know what? I'm proud of you, Gaku. That's actually both modest and incredibly thoughtful. You get a gold star from me.

For those unfamiliar with exchange rates, 50,000 yen is about $350.

And that's a good point. How about it, Shouma? Why don't you decide the fate of--

...yeah, that makes sense.

Honestly, I think it was the shock from actually winning the fight that got him moreso than the punches. His fighting spirit may be off the charts now, but he can't handle the realization that he didn't disappoint anybody.

In any case, that's it for tonight. Shouma needs his rest and we can't decide anything without him. So I'll see all-a y'all fuckers on Day 44. For now, I need my goddamn breakfast burrito because this was WAY TOO EMOTIONALLY INTENSE FOR 6 FUCKING AM.

[kennedys-lvr]

WOULD YOU (SAY I'M WORTHY) — PART 1 OF 2

me when i planned to write a silly little oneshot and ended up writing 9k words of angst, fluff n smut. damnation era leon. also, what's the second part, i hear you ask? u'll have to wait and find out

okay fine i'll tell u. it's gonna be a honeymoon because now that im finally able to write established relationship stuff i am gonna be COOKING with every word i got

full part here! enjoy! 🤍

February 2011 — Warsaw, Poland

The automatic glass doors of the Hilton hotel opened to reveal the grand lobby as I ducked inside. It was all extremely minimalist, yet fancy too. High cream-coloured walls beckoned to me as the pristine marble parquet floor clicked beneath the sharp heel of my stilettos as I made my way through the bustling lobby, murmuring apologetically to whoever I accidentally crossed paths with on my way over to the reception.

The reception desk was made of solid wood, polished to perfection and gleaming as I rested my hands against the top of it, the gold band of my ring making a soft thunk sound as I waited for the attention of the receptionist. The receptionist in question was a pretty young blonde currently speaking down the phone in murmured Polish, her false eyelashes fluttering with every rapid blink. The black block lettering on the gold name tag pinned to the breast pocket of her red blazer read ‘Olyana’.

“Okej. Już wysyłam kogoś do twojego pokoju. Proszę czekać..” (“Okay. I’m sending someone to your room now. Please wait..”) Olyana said in a familiar polite tone that I recognised to be used universally within all customer service staff. My extremely limited understanding of her language told me that she was most likely sending someone up to someone else’s room shortly.

When she hung up the phone, she looked at me and said in near-perfect English, “Hello, welcome to the Hilton. How may I help you?”

“Yes, hi. I’m looking for Room 832.” I answered, giving the receptionist a polite smile as I drummed my fingers against the desk, my clear manicured nails tapping against the polished wood. “Do you know which floor that is?”

“Room 832?” Olyana asked, tilting her head to the side as her eyes flicked over me in speculation. I understood why—I was coming into her hotel asking for a specific room number, rather than stating that I had a reservation for it.

“Yes—the reservation possibly listed under Kennedy?”

“Kennedy—”

“Yes. I’m his wife.” I smiled sheepishly, still getting used to that—to the idea that I was Leon’s wife, when it still felt like just yesterday that I was sitting down in front of him at Michele’s, where he’d told me that he loved me.

It still felt like yesterday that I’d told him I loved him too.

It had been around four years.

“Ah.” Olyana’s hum brought me back to the present. She began to tap away at her keyboard, her bright green eyes flicking across the screen as her deep red lips puckered into a pout of concentration. A few moments later, that pout stretched into an easy smile as she looked up at me again. “Room 832—take the elevator to the eighth floor.” She gestured toward the gold shutters of the elevators to our right. “Would you like a key for the room?”

“No, thank you.” I said, turning on my heels and heading for the elevator. As I pressed the button to call it, I shifted the small carry-on bag that was slung over my shoulder before digging into the back pocket of my jeans for my phone.

I smiled as the screen lit up, revealing my favourite photo in the world—Leon and I on our wedding day a few months ago, stood up at that small altar in front of our nearest and dearest, as well as pretty much the entirety of the agency. I could still remember the feel of the sleeves of my lace wedding dress brushing against my arms, and could still hear the rustle of the fabric that had moved with every step I’d made.

And then there was Leon, looking as handsome as ever—dressed up in his finest suit, the buttons of his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show off the tiny sprouts of chest hair that had started to grow in as of a few months before our wedding. Seeing that sight for the first time had made me almost feral—and Leon had laughed, happy over the fact he was finally growing body hair in other places other than his face, pits and legs.

The ding of the elevator brought me back to the present, startling me for a second before I stepped into the metal box. I hit the button for the eighth floor before leaning back against the cold metallic wall, sliding my fingers across my screen until I was dialling that all-important number.

After two rings, Leon answered with what sounded like a startled grunt. “Hey, baby.” His voice had a rasp to it that I had always loved, but at the same time his words were a little slurred. He coughed, the sound crisp through the line as he sniffed and mumbled, “what’s up?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to call and check in—I missed your voice, baby.” I looked over at the little red numbers on the elevator's display, watching them climb higher and higher. My heart began to race inside of my chest, my palm getting sweatier and sweatier.

“Oh.” Leon said, sighing softly. I was starting to hate the sound of his voice right now—that tell-tale slurring that told me that he’d been drinking. I could practically smell the whiskey on his breath through the phone. “I missed your voice too, sweetheart. I missed all of you.”

It worried me, and I hated worrying about him—and I knew he hated me worrying about him too. But, at the same time, I supposed that I was also to blame for letting him drink—I understood why he drank, knowing what we fought on a near-constant basis.

“Tell me about the mission, baby.” I mumbled quietly, a myriad of thoughts rushing through my mind—fear and anxiety paramount among them. “What happened?”

I chewed on my bottom lip, waiting patiently for him to answer. I knew about his mission, of course—Leon had been sent here to link up with a CIA agent known as Scarecrow, continuing the ongoing investigation he was doing into the allegations that the rebel forces in the civil war were using bioweapons.

He was supposed to have been home a few days ago, but apparently my husband had decided to play the brave hero—and nearly got himself killed in the process, infiltrating a bioweapons facility and going toe-to-toe with Tyrants.

I knew the details of the mission. But I still wanted to know what happened—from his perspective.

The elevator jolted, and a second later the doors peeled open to reveal the eighth floor. I moved away from the wall, keeping the phone pressed to my ear as I waited for Leon to speak up again, my eyes scanning over the room numbers as I walked along the carpeted floor.

“I don't wanna talk about it.” He sighed after a beat. My heart pinched in my chest as I heard those familiar words, and I ached for that moment where I could just hold onto him and not let him go.

Soon, I told myself as I looked over each pine door, the butterflies within my stomach currently having a rave. “That bad, baby?”

“Yeah. It just feels good to hear your voice. I just wish you were here with me right now.”

I smirked a little, the words right on the tip of my tongue. I’m here, baby. Just open up the door and come get me.

Saying nothing else, I rolled my lips together as I stopped in my tracks and leaned against a nearby wall.

“What would you do if I was there with you right now?” I asked, my eyebrows raising with amusement even if he couldn't see it. The question was so juvenile—something a teenage boy would ask his crush when he was attempting to get a little lucky.

It was perverted, but to hear Leon’s soft chuckle as he fell for such a cliche line made it all the more worth it. “You know what I’d be doing, sweetheart.”

“Do I?” I teased, biting the tip of my tongue to mask my giggle. Flirting with him like this—trying to picture what he was doing as I did—was always so thrilling. Even more so because I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Do I know? I'm not a mind reader, baby. I need a hint. An inch, even.”

I resisted the urge to add “Maybe six” onto the end of that statement.

Leon let out the kind of groan that always ran right through me and spurred me on—the groan of playful annoyance, of exasperation, a sound that was usually accompanied by a familiar chiding. “Dee...” There it was.

“Leon…” I said back in the exact same drawn-out tone, earning me a single ‘ha’.

“We’re playing this game right now, are we?”

“There’s no game here.” I proclaimed my innocence, feeling my cheeks flush red as I did so—I was so glad he couldn't see it, as it would have given me away so easily. “Just a question. A request, even. Indulge me.”

Leon sighed deeply again, another one of those exasperated sighs. Then I heard the sound of glass clinking on glass and liquid being poured. “Indulge you, mm? That’s what you want? A little dirty talk? A little game of ‘let’s make Leon all worked up when he’s unable to do anything about it’?”

I frowned at the sound of him pouring out the shot, the voice in the back of my mind telling me to get moving again. I tried to keep my voice from sounding too worried, teasing with a forced laugh, “I do love it when you talk dirty. There’s just something about the way you do it that just—”

I heard Leon swallow, my heart nearly plummeting to my stomach as he groaned and muttered, “Just what? What does it do?”

Finally, I arrived in front of the door I was seeking. Room 832 loomed in front of me, the room number written on a clear plaque next to the pine door. The silver door handle had a ‘do not disturb’ on it. Beyond the door, I could hear the soft murmur of the TV.

Ignoring the sign on the door, I raised my fist to the pine and knocked three times softly, hoping Leon didn't hear it through my phone’s microphone. I didn't want to ruin my big surprise, after all. Through the phone, Leon grumbled. “Fuck—I put a fucking sign on the door—” he uttered, and I once more bit my tongue to avoid giggling and giving myself up.

“You still there, baby?” He asked me.

“Mm.” I hummed, shuffling back a few steps and hoping that Leon couldn't hear me through the door, praying that his attention was on the drink in his hand—as bad as that sounded. “Yeah, I’m here. Why?”

“Just checking. Someone just knocked on the door of my hotel room—I put a sign on there so they don't bother me, but I guess some people can't fucking read—”

“Mm. I’m sure they’ll go away in a minute.” I mumbled softly, smirking to myself as I crept back up to the door and knocked again. I can read just fine, I taunted him in my head as I quickly shuffled back and added, “or you could get the door and see what they want?”

“Nah. Like you said, they’ll probably go away in a minute.”

This time I really did want to taunt him. Adrenaline burst through my veins and I felt queasy, biting down on my lip hard as I resisted the urge to give the whole game away.

“Keep talking to me,” Leon added, and I heard the creak of the mattress as he was probably leaning back on it. I tried to imagine his body laid out across a bed, taut muscles looking even tighter as he stretched. “Need to keep hearing your voice, baby.”

Heat rushed through me, a delightful tingle spreading down my spine. Maybe I should have asked for that damn key, I thought to myself as I stepped up to the door and knocked again, hoping that this time would be it.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking—” I heard Leon mutter down the line, then his voice got louder as he shouted through the door, “I don't want to be disturbed! Go away!”

I covered my mouth with my hand to suppress my laughter, lifting the phone from my ear before softly clearing my throat and crooning in my best Polish accent, “Room service!”

It was a terrible accent. But thankfully, Leon didn't seem to realise it was me as he hollered, “I didn't order any damn room service!”

“It was ordered to this room, sir,” I continued, thinking on the fly. Why did I go for this accent? I could have gone with an attempt at Russian—my Russian accent had a little sexiness to it, at least. “Steak and fries. Bottle of Jack. Do you want me to take it away?”

I swallowed thickly, feeling my heart beating out of my chest even harder as Leon hesitated in giving his answer. I’d listed the two things he usually couldn't resist—anything to get him to open this door and see that I was right here waiting for him.

Please open this fucking door.

“Eh.” Leon muttered, and I heard the bedsprings squeak as he stood up. “Might as well,” he added, before he said into the phone, “Sweetheart, let me just get the door—”

I held my breath as his footsteps got closer and closer, before I heard the click of the lock on the other side. Leon pulled the door open just enough to peek through the tiny crack he’d created, and I saw the glimmer of a blue eye staring me down before it widened and he pulled the door properly open.

“The fuck?” He whispered in surprise, scanning me up and down as he was seemingly frozen in shock.

I grinned forcefully at him, my heart racing as I looked over him again—first with worry, as I noticed the glass of something amber in his hand, then with that familiar love and wanting as I noticed everything else.

I held my breath, drinking him in. His black t-shirt clung tight to his abs, and his dark jeans hugged close to his muscular thighs. He was barefoot, his toes curling into the light grey carpet. Biting my bottom lip softly, my eyes flitted back up to his face, which hadn't changed from that dumbfounded expression—but I did notice a few cuts and bruises etched around his eye and that beautiful jaw of his.

“You—”

I hung up the phone, holding eye contact with him as I stuffed it back into my pocket. “Surprise.” I crooned. This was the moment I'd been waiting for since I got on that plane nearly ten hours ago, after nearly two weeks apart from him.

[kamimarroco]

more Bottom Ren fics pLEASE 😭😭 you’re the only one I trust for the task 🙏

HIII SWEETIE!! Sorry for the delay, I really struggled a lot with how I was going to do this, but I got this piece of work here

Officially my longest work, I did it all in the same day, there are probably mistakes, but I hope from the bottom of my heart that it is worth something ;)

Words: exactly 2200

CW: Handcuffing, anal, pegging, bottom Ren, noncon, unhealthy relationship, very toxic dynamics, MC is kind of an asshole, but they are too soft-hearted to be cruel for so long

“H-Hey, calm down...", Ren moved his naked body away from the middle of the bed to a point further away from you, his wrists struggling against the handcuffs, surely injuring himself in the process from the steel material. “W-Wait a second, do you have any idea what you're about to do?”

The panic rising in his voice made the smile on your face and excitement grow equally, or maybe even more, yourself placing your knees on the soft fabric of the bed, slowly approaching the beastkin.

“What's wrong, Renren? I thought this... was something you were already used to”, you made a point of pointing to the strap-on perfectly placed on your hips, a large phallus pointed directly at the man in front of you.

A beautiful sight to have, indeed. One that would certainly cause two people to cheer up depending on the context of the situation.

But for Ren, this is more than terrible, it's a nightmare.

And that's why the situation brings you such euphoria that you can't put it into words.

“Awe, don't be such a baby!”, you spoke in a playful tone, making the scene even more suspenseful as you slowly crawled towards him, giving him the false sense of hope that maybe he could escape you in time. Unfortunately for the beastkin, the handcuffs did indeed limit his power to do anything, and even if he managed the feat of getting out of bed, you had already locked the door in case anything happened.

He had nowhere to escape. He is a fox who fell into a perfectly orchestrated trap.

When you got close enough to put Ren within arm's reach, he futilely started kicking his legs, trying to push you away and hit you with one of his feet. “NO! Nonono, go away!”, he demanded, his voice becoming high-pitched as dread consumed him.

You didn't have the patience to deal with that kind of attitude at the moment, firmly grabbing both of Ren's feet and pushing his legs against his chest, automatically making him stop moving.

“Look, Ren", you said his name with a tone of voice that showed how thin your patience was running. “I'm trying to make things easy, I really am, but I can't do it if you keep trying to resist me”

You took a moment to look carefully at beatskin's face, his eyes big and bright, like he was about to burst into tears right here, a very different view compared to the one you had of him.

Days before, when you were the one wearing the stupid shock collar and when Ren was the one in charge and had control over you, you would be the one crying, begging him not to do something really bad to you, struggling and conforming to his desires just so he could go a little easier on you.

It's funny how things can change drastically in the blink of an eye, huh?

Ren looked at you with frightened eyes, scanning you, perhaps trying to find some sign of weakness that he could use against you and make you drop that completely crazy idea, but he didn't find anything.

“P-Please, how about we do something else? I-I'll do anything you want, anything!”

Oh, poor little Ren.

You clicked your tongue in disapproval, shaking your head slightly from left to right in denial, eyes closed and a too-happy smile plastered across your face. You even chuckled a little! Something Ren had never seen before and which would have been a wonderful moment if he hadn't found himself in the situation he was in.

What's so bad about this? Compared to what he's already done to you, he should thank you from the bottom of his heart.

“Oh, Ren…”, you brought his small body closer to yours, the dildo being pressed against his belly and cock, which for some very interesting reason was hard. “You say something, but your body clearly says something else. Tell me, are you secretly into this kind of thing?”

“N-No! No, I'm… not”, fucking liar, you can tell he's lying through his teeth.

“Oh? Well, it doesn't matter. It's not like you'd care about my opinion if the roles were reversed”, you moved your body away a little to point the tip of the phallus at his hole, releasing one of the hands that was holding one of his legs so you could guide yourself inside him. “You'll stop complaining in a second”

The object wasn't lubricated, and you hadn't even bothered to lubricate Ren to receive you. It's all dry and pure and raw, just like he always did with you.

You didn't give him space to say a word before brutally shoving the object inside his hole, receiving a high-pitched scream that sounded like an animal in pain and pushing his body lightly onto the bed.

“S-STOP, STOP IT! IT HURTS!”, he shouted a few more times with that same high-pitched tone of voice, which was genuinely starting to piss you off due to the agony it caused to your ears.

“Oh, shut up! It's not even that hard, stop being difficult!”, you ignored his screams of pain and pulled the dildo out, the movement not being as smooth due to the fact that you hadn't used lube. “You can take it. Stop acting like a… girl”

You had no other words to describe him nor did you bother to think, returning to the work of sticking the phallus once more inside his hole.

Ren was panicking, his breathing was shallow and fast and desperate, his body trying to escape the invasion of having an object forced inside him so roughly and suddenly, his hands unable to do anything about it, with some lines of blood already forming on the skin of his wrists from the steel.

All the beastkin could do was twitch his legs, and his legs he twitched every time the pain spread through his body, each nerve sending the sensation to another nerve until all he could feel was just that.

Your cheeks burned with lust and the power of being able to do something like this with Ren, your smile widening even further as you laughed maniacally at him, your chest burning with something akin to pride.

Proud to be doing this to him, proud to be able to respond in the same way he did to you.

Ren continued screaming, his body still trying to resist the abuse, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, which didn't dare open to look you face to face. He was scared, being violated, trapped by you, a fox in the palm of your hand.

“It hurts, doesn't it? It hurts when it's with you”, you punctuated with a rough, deep thrust, moving your hands to hold him at the hips to keep him in place. “It's kind of nice... to see you getting the same treatment you did to me, and probably to other people”

You didn't want to hear it, but a little voice in the back of your head told you that you were going too far with all of this. Sure, he's a little bastard, he forced you to kill a man, shocked you multiple times, raped you in the basement, and inflicted your skin over and over again-

Actually, when you think about it, he more than deserves this. This is more than justified for you and others, and you really don't want to kill the mood by suddenly changing your mind because of moral values.

You kept moving again and again for a while, getting the same animal reaction in pain as the other times, but slowly dying down little by little. Maybe because he had already used up all his energy, or maybe because he realized there was no point in continuing to fight.

The movement of Ren's legs also died, leaving only the rivers of tears that formed in his eyes, which finally opened to look at you and-

Fuck, you think he's beautiful like this, but you also feel a pang in your heart when you see him so worn out.

“I-I’m sorry…”, he speaks weakly as you continue to move, genuinely taking you by surprise.

You suddenly stop, your gaze remaining fixed on his, your mouth half open in surprise. “What?”

You seriously weren't thinking about stopping just because you saw him cry and apologize, right?

“What did you say?", you asked again, paying attention to his facial expressions, trying to discover any malicious intention behind the words.

“I-I said... I'm sorry", and he repeated it again, ears flat against his head, a wet trail formed on either side of his face by tears.

You're not gonna lie... You feel bad seeing this. You're not a monster, you're not someone who does these kinds of things just for pure sadistic pleasure. You are not like him.

Still, you can't just change your mind because he apologized! Anyone would do that in this situation, you can't be that soft-hearted-

“Ssshit, I'm sorry. I-I think I exaggerated a little"

well, shit.

Just as you were about to remove the dildo from inside Ren, you are unexpectedly stopped by him.

“N-No, I mean… You can go on, really, just... go easy on me”

You make a confused expression at his request, not knowing if you want to stop because of what you witnessed or continue because he is strangely cooperating now.

Ren senses your uncertainty and change of heart and decides to put his word in. “I-It's okay, it's just... the way you do it. It's too rough”

Too rough, he says.

“So, what should I do?”, you feel like a child asking an adult how to do the right thing. It's funny, considering you're a few years older than him.

For some odd reason, telling you how you should do it makes his cheeks burn with embarrassment, a completely different moment compared to what was happening minutes before.

“I would tell you to use lube, but I think you threw that idea out the window a long time ago”, you feel bad thinking that he most likely felt his insides tearing apart every time you moved. “Try to go... slowly, to make the movements smooth"

Slowly. Yeah, you can do that.

You breathe and concentrate on not going as rough as you did the previous times, making sure to hold onto his small body so he doesn't escape you. The difference is clear. You are gentle... and he doesn't let out a scream of pain when the phallus is inserted all the way inside him. Ren doesn't fight or cry or try to run away from the act this time.

He genuinely seems to embrace the feeling now, even though the pain may still be there.

“Is this better?", you ask right after doing so, not daring to move without first knowing the beastkin's word.

You can't help but feel stupid for now worrying about his opinion when you should be teaching him a lesson.

“Yeah, it's better”, he speaks softly, a little hoarse from all the shouting he did at the top of his lungs earlier. His tail touches your leg, the fur tickling your skin but not irritating you in the slightest. You welcome it. “Can you… kiss me now?”

“Kiss you?”, you are surprised by his request, but try to play it cool as you remember that you asked the beastkin about how you should do things the right way in the first place. “I mean, sure... If that's what you want”

You feel hesitant at first, a little nervous about kissing him. Why are you nervous? You've never felt this way before. Maybe the reason is because this moment feels more intimate, delicate, and you really don't want to spoil the mood.

You touch Ren's face, gently running your fingers over the soft skin, unconsciously wiping away the trail of tears that were still present, kind of feeling bad about how much he had cried. Feeling bad that you were the reason behind it.

He's so soft, so small, as if he could break at any moment, especially in your hands.

You bring your lips closer to his, first testing your skin against his, giving light nibbles to spice things up, always careful not to be too rough after what he's been through. You feel your heart flutter inside your chest as you feel him respond, but of course he does, in a way as sweet and calm as yours.

You feel encouraged to move your hands over Ren's body, touching each scar with care and affection, outlining the wounds with adoration. He trembles at the contact, his muscles initially tensing, then giving way to relaxing under your caresses. You gently ask for entry with your tongue and are answered by him opening his mouth, entering it with confidence and ardor.

He tastes good... Fuck, he tastes good.

You don't need any further instructions and just start moving in and out at a steady, calm pace, feeling the movement more fluid as he opens up to you in more ways than one.

This is good. It's easy. You can do it easily.

[mariacallous]

Digital advertising is a whopping $700 billion (£530 billion) industry that remains largely unregulated, with few laws in place to protect brands and consumers. Companies and brands advertising products often don’t know which websites display their ads. I run Check My Ads, an ad tech watchdog, and we constantly deal with situations where advertisers and citizens have been the victims of lies, scams, and manipulations. We have removed ads from websites with serious disinformation about Covid-19, false election content, and even AI-generated obituaries.

Currently, if a brand wants to advertise a product, Google facilitates the ad placement based on desired ad reach and metrics. It may technically follow through on the agreement by delivering views and clicks, but does not provide transparent data about how and where the ad views came from. It is possible that the ad was shown on unsavory websites diametrically opposed to the brand’s values. For example, in 2024, Google was found to be profiting by placing product ads on websites that promoted hardcore pornography, disinformation, and even hate speech, against the brands’ wishes.

In 2025, however, this scandal will end, as we start to enact the first regulations targeting the digital advertising industry. Around the world, lawmakers in Brussels, Ottawa, Washington, and London are already in the early stages of developing regulation that will ensure brands have access to the legal support to ask questions, check ad data, and receive automatic refunds when they find that their digital campaigns have been subject to fraud or safety violations.

In Canada, for example, Parliament is deliberating the enactment of the Online Harms Act, a law to incentivize the removal of sexual content involving minors. The idea behind this law is that if the content is illegal, then making money off it should be illegal, too.

In California and New York, advocates are also proposing legislation that will aim to implement a know-your-customer law to track the global financial trade of advertising. This is significant because these two states power the global ad tech industry. New York has more ad tech companies than any other city in the world. Transparency laws enacted in California, on the other hand, would affect Google’s international advertising business—by far the biggest ad tech company in the world.

Beyond brand and consumer issues, the unregulated nature of the digital advertising landscape is a direct threat to democracy. In the US, for instance, presidential campaign spending remains effectively unregulated. It is estimated that the presidential campaigns will spend up to $2 billion (£1.5 billion) on digital advertising in 2024. With current laws, we will likely have no external data about their refunds or rates.

In 2025, the legislative pressure is on for big tech companies to regulate ad technology.

[twojamie-o-clock]

Okay so I know “The Jigsaw War” doesn’t actually take place during season 6B but IMAGINE IF IT DID it’s actually the perfect story hello

Rambling & spoilers below the cut

1. The Set Up

As a companion chronicles story, this is obviously very Jamie centric. The opening reminded me a lot of “death of the Daleks” where Jamie is being interrogated, alone, by a newcomer who presumed he knows everything about - that he’s an accomplice to - the Doctor. In both of these scenarios the Doctor represented the threat to these strangers, and Jamie the key to defeating that. Which is already very much Jamie being a tool for manipulating the Doctor, as emphasized at the end of “world game” where the doctor agreed to carry on working for the CIA if he was allowed Jamie’s company.

2. Jamie Working

The main plot of Jamie having to work things out on his own, for his own freedom and for the Doctor, feels a lot like it could be a trend in the CIA throwing him in the deep end with 2. It shows how independent and adaptive he’s grown since he started traveling with the Doctor, how he has picked up bit of his personality. This is also mentioned later when Jamie is thought to have (in the future) attacked Moran and the Doctor insists that this is out of character for him because of who Jamie is and how he has changed.

The fact that the tasks Jamie has to fulfill/perform are time- & puzzle-based obviously adds to this, since he is jumping through time with disjointed memories and understanding. The Doctor is also for the most part off screen (?) because he is working on another aspect of the “threat” while Jamie is put to the test. So !! Hm !!

3. Jamie’s Faith

Jamie’s faith in the Doctor is of course put to the test but he still believes in him despite the risks. Obviously a big part of the recovery aspect of season 6B is jamie learning who the doctor is again and why he trusts him so much. In this audio he also risks many lives by putting this absolute faith in the Doctor. Also, because it’s told from Jamie’s perspective, and because that’s just how the plot is moving, the whole story hinges on the Doctor’s judgment: who needs his help, who is the threat, and his understanding of humans to a core—something the Time Lords despise but still very clearly need—through Jamie.

Another major part of the dialogue is the Doctor speaking through Jamie’s body because the “emotional connection” is “strong enough” where it would otherwise not have worked. So….I’ll leave that there. (Edit: I’m linking this to the touch telepathy bs now)

4. CIA interventions & measures

His interrogators ask who the doctor is working for, automatically assuming that he is an agent. The conversation goes like:

Which of course is a very obvious nod to when the Doctor will eventually take orders - unless he is already taking them. The only disagreeing thing in the audio is that a) the tardis crash landed as per usual on the Unheld system and b) Zoe is allegedly traveling with them. However the “accidental” landing on the Unheld could very easily be another lie. And if this were to take place around helicon prime etc Jamie wouldn’t actually remember Zoe (btw I have not yet listened to beyond war games/James Robert mccrimmon so I might edit this later). But that the main idea is stitched events and memories being experience out of chronology….etc. Also Zoe doesn’t actually make an appearance in the audio - the Doctor mentions her helping him while he’s in Jamie’s mind, but because Jamie can hear him it’s very possible that could have been for his sake alone.

Anyway there’s my. False hope. (I originally started this because I was struggling where to order the jigsaw war on my spreadsheet. I did end up opting for this:

Simply because the s6b thing is more of a guess and I want this to be only slightly more accurate than that. What was stopping me from putting anything between twg/space pirates was that Jamie is wearing the same exact shirt so it seemed like they would connect but the idea of him going continuously into the final serial felt wrong so I just changed it now)

Okay thanks for reading!

[bimboficationblues]

as that anon message you got shows, the term "liberal" gets hurled around a lot as an insult on the left. what would you say are the necessary and sufficient conditions to be a liberal? i think having a straight answer for this would help remedy this sort of behavior

not sure what anon you're referring to. regrettably I don't think you're going to get people to stop using terms in loose or disagreeable ways no matter what, it just is the nature of political terminology (definitionally up for contestation) and language in general. part of the difficulty here is that the same term gets used to describe a political system, an ideology or hegemonic worldview, and a form of political identification

but as far as necessary/sufficient conditions go I like Charles Mills' formulation:

an axiology: committed to individual freedom to pursue the Good, governance by 'consent', the guarantee of specific political and economic rights (non-exhaustive list)

a social ontology: equal moral persons who are atomized or individualized and whose individuality, particularly their self-interested pursuit of their own Good, makes a functional society

a theory of history: endless progress, the accumulation of knowledge and the application of it to advancing human well-being (though this can be more or less Panglossian)

and would add a couple of my own:

a political methodology that gives priority to reform and positive law

an economic worldview that emphasizes the efficiency of money and markets and affirms private property as a central right (often *the* central right)

my own sort of working definition of liberalism writ large is that it's a kind of aristocratic legalism which has a key value of "security" (this is inspired by the work of Geoff Mann and Mark Neocleous), an investment in predictable, consistent outcomes that also expresses itself as a fundamental anxiety about the tenuousness of these institutions and of "civilization" as a whole (an interesting point of overlap between Keynes and Hayek). that's what I kind of see as the throughline between the combination of money, markets, law, and reform.

I would say that the elements listed above which automatically send up the yellow flag, for me, are the political methodology and the theory of history - either a sort of blinkered optimism/false realism about the ability to endlessly patch up our existing institutions or someone who has bought into a kind of linear historical narrative of constant improvement

even though I am not a market socialist and think that is probably excessively "liberal" for my own tastes, I think it is plausible to hold that position without being a liberal, if that makes any sense (it may not). inversely, the axiology of freedom, universalism, &c., often get cited as exclusive to liberalism, but I really don't think they are and remain unpersuaded by the various factions (commie, lib, postcolonialist, and so on) that have argued otherwise. not that I think ideas of freedom, equality, etc. are above conceptual critique per se, but I think I wouldn't assume somebody is a lib because they truck in that language.

[cosmicjoke]

Killing is not always wrong, and the act of killing doesn't automatically make someone a bad person:

Yeahhhh, okay, so as usual, these same idiots are completely misconstruing my words and points.

Let's, for a moment, just accept the absurd premise that killing is always morally wrong, and can never, no matter the circumstances surrounding the act, be justified. Let's just accept that premise for a moment, no matter how absurd or childish or rooted in actually harmful naivety it is.

The argument being made is that Levi, because he's killed, is a bad person. That's the argument. That because he's committed a "bad act", that automatically makes him a "bad person", regardless of the reason or circumstances surrounding his so-called bad act. The argument, then, boils down to ones actions being the sum total of a person's character, and there is no room from there on for any other considerations or factors in judging that person's character. You've killed someone, so, no matter the reason, you're a bad person.

I really wish I didn't have to explain why this type of thinking is wrong, but given the amount of morons liking and reblogging this person's post, I guess I'm forced to.

Even supposing someone commits a "bad act", (again, accepting the premise that killing is always wrong) that in and of itself doesn't make the person who's killed a "bad person". A person's character shouldn't be judged on their actions alone, especially when those actions are viewed in isolation, without considering the mitigating circumstances surrounding them. What a person should be judged by is their actual character, who they are, how they regard and treat others, what they believe, what they feel, etc… Is someone who kills in self-defense automatically a bad person, even if they feel deep regret and sadness over having had to kill someone to save themselves? That's what this person is saying, and it's patently ridiculous and false.

Again, Levi killing, even if you accept the premise that all killing is wrong, doesn't make Levi a bad person. What would make Levi a bad person would be if he killed and enjoyed it (like Zeke) or if he didn't care about what happened to other people, if he felt no empathy or sympathy for anyone but himself, if he enjoyed watching others suffer, if he felt nothing at the loss of life, if he selfishly put his own well being and desires over everyone else's wants and needs. THAT would make Levi a bad person. Not the act of killing alone, but him having a lack of feeling or empathy, remorse or sadness over the act.

This person doesn't seem to get that good people can do bad things, which is one of the central themes of AoT. They don't seem to understand either that we're not saying Levi is good because he kills, or that his killing is good because he's good (why would anyone ever think that's what we're saying?). We're not saying killing is good at all, but that it can be right, depending on the circumstances surrounding the act, and we're saying Levi is good because he's a totally selfless individual who cares genuinely and deeply about others, who sacrifices his own well being, both physical and mental, to help others, no matter the consequences to himself, and that his acts of violence, whether you regard them as justifiable or not, are committed for selfless and understandable reasons, like saving his own life or the lives of others, because he cares about and wants to help people, and are never motivated by things like greed, lust, self-satisfaction, self-aggrandizement or for petty revenge. Regardless of whether you think his violence is right or wrong, justifiable or not, it's that quality of compassion, kindness, empathy and selflessness in Levi that marks him out as a good man and a hero. To deny him that is disgusting and shows a level of stupidly blunt judgmentalism that shouldn't ever be accepted in any substantive debate over this sort of thing.

Beyond that, this idea that killing is always wrong and that killing in self-defense will always and without fail lead to justifying outright murder is nothing but a childish fallacy. There's even a term for it, called the "Slippery Slope Fallacy":

Our justice system differentiates between murder and justifiable homicide for a reason. You can't judge every act of killing the same way, or from the same principle of it always being wrong, no matter what. The only thing that sort of thinking leads to is mass persecution, punishment and oppression, both of thought and action. To view anything through that sort of black and white lens of moral correctness is to deny reality itself and the complexity of both the world we live in and of human beings themselves.

There are countless examples I could give in which killing can be and is regarded as justifiable and correct, but there's really no point in me making this post any longer than it already is. Anyone with a functioning brain and that actually applies logic to their thinking should be able to figure out what scenarios and situations and circumstances would render killing the right and correct course of action.

And that's all I'm going to say on this subject. It shouldn't even need to be explained. But, you know, tumblr and its users woeful lack of critical thinking skills strikes again.