#is that not an official tag on here??? that's outrageous

[wolfwithpaws]

PnF AU where Human!Perry is still a secret agent and Doof still acts like... Doof but instead of an "evil" scientist he's just some guy at a local pharmacy and Perry has to go there all the time cause of stuff due to missions (and you could sprinkle in him needing testosterone too if you're a fan of trans!Perry) and Heinz is eventually like "bro I see you in here all the time, wtf is going on, are u ok?" and they bond over time

[uniquethingtastemaker]

Neige x Reader: White Beaches and a Spring Morning

Summary: The Ramshackle prefect is finally able to get a full week off from school after four overblots. Determined to enjoy their time to the fullest off campus, they set out to explore Sage’s Island, starting with the island’s southern beaches. However, it seems that our prefect can never catch a break, as they find an RSA student crying and upset. Unable to just look away, they set their sights on comforting him and helping him have a good time outside of school.

Word count: just under 3k

Tags: fluff, getting together (not officially though), dates, romance

Warnings: none… unless suave reader is a warning… reader being too hot lol

Author’s notes: this was inspired by a tumblr post by @sorbertisfruity and I loved it so much that I decided to start writing it. Also this is my first time I’m actually writing and posting my creative work, so I just ask that people are kind. Thanks and enjoy!

Leaning forward with the wind whipping through your hair, you fly down the mountain path away from Night Raven College. The engine of the magic wheel roars behind you, as music blasts from the speakers. Finally, you were free! After months of work, you finally got a week off. Of course, you had to blackmail Crowley by threatening to expose the multiple overblots. Nonetheless, he conceded to your requests in the end. Now, you’ve left your worries and Grim temporarily behind in favor of a relaxing day at the beach. 

Pulling up to the sandy shore, you park the magic wheel you’d borrowed from Ignihyde and look out at the sight before you. It was a nice change of scenery compared to the dreary mountain Night Raven College sat atop of. The morning was crisp and clear with the sea breeze wafting from the ocean. The beach was empty. You were here on a weekday after all. You grab your bag from one of the compartments and head off toward the tide.

The sandals on your feet sink slightly into the sand as you search for a more secluded area to place your bag. After walking along the coast, you catch a glimpse of NRC’s rival school, the Royal Sword Academy. It was almost blinding with its tall white spires that were tipped with blue. Overall, the vibe is much brighter than NRC’s gothic horror aesthetic.

“Wonder what their facilities are like,” you murmur to yourself, “Maybe I can secretly get a tour of the school and request a transfer while I’m at it.”

You chuckle at the thought of your friends’ outrageous reactions to your fictional transfer. Just as you finish the thought, you hear a loud sob. Furrowing your brow, you pick up your pace. Even on your day off, you never catch a break, you internally sigh. You blame your upright and well-meaning nature, but you shrug off the thought as you come across an alcove in the rocks. 

You find a boy huddled up against the stone, sobbing to himself. He’s wearing a familiar white uniform jacket, signifying that he’s from the Royal Swords Academy. You’re unable to see his face as he’s tucked it into his knees. Only his ruffled black hair shows. Next to him lies a black beret and the dirt and skid marks on his uniform make it obvious he ran out of the academy. 

Coming closer to the cave-like area, your footsteps are masked by the sound of soft waves lapping against the coast. 

“Hey,” you call out, “Are you alright?”

The boy’s head snaps up. He stumbles to his feet and begins making rapid apologies. His voice has a light, airy quality to it that cracks as he trips over his words. 

“I—I’m fine. Thank you for asking. I—I should probably go. I don’t want to bother you—“ 

He isn’t able to say anything more, as his foot catches on a nearby rock and he begins tumbling forward with a squeak. Moving on instinct, you catch him by the waist, pulling him in to support his weight. Pressed up against him, you note that he has a slim but fairly toned waist. He’s also a bit taller than expected. 

“Are you ok?” You ask, “That was pretty close. It might be a good idea to sit down for a while before moving again. Sorry, I startled you. I was just concerned whenever I heard someone in distress.”

Pulling away slightly, you’re able to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes are the first feature that stands out to you. They’re soft, doe-like, and innocent. His brown eyes are a little puffy and red around the edges from crying, but it doesn’t detract from their soft allure. Your eyes flicker down toward his lips. They’re tinted a natural red, as he chews on them. Suddenly, you become acutely aware of how close the two of you are. You can feel his ragged breath on your cheek, as you take the time to observe him.

He glances down and away from you, tears still in his eyes, as continues to gnaw on his lip. Whether from the anxiety of being caught crying or the flustered embarrassment of being so close, you’re not sure. You suspect it might be both. However, when he turns his cheek, the light catches a glimmer of wet tears that have already streaked down his face. Before you have time to think, you reach your hand up to cup his cheek and wipe it away. 

Blinking, you realize that you just performed a somewhat intimate gesture and you move your hand away. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to help. Did I make you uncomfortable?” You ask.

He stares at you with wide eyes and touches the place where you wiped his tears with his hand.

“…No, I didn’t mind it.” 

His voice breaks, then in a smaller tone, he comments, “It was nice.”

“That’s good,” you chuckle, “My name’s (Y/N), and you?”

He hesitates for a second before replying, “Neige.”

He watches your reaction intently, looking for any signs of recognition, but when there is none, he relaxes slightly. 

“I wouldn’t mind sitting down again,” he tells you. 

He starts to pull away to sit back down when you tighten your grip on his waist, stopping him. 

“Hold on, I have a towel. Let me lay it down first,” you state. 

Rummaging through your bag, you pull out a towel that you stole from Heartslabyul. The print on the fabric is a dead giveaway. It’s littered with multicolored card suits. Spreading it out, you plop down on the fluffy towel and turn to Neige, who comes to sit next to you.

“Again, sorry for scaring you earlier. I just heard you were in distress and wanted to make sure you were ok,” you repeat, inspecting for any physical wounds. “Physically, you seem fine. Are you in emotional distress?”

Playing with the edge of the towel, he glances up at you before looking away. His grip tightens on it and he nods. 

Neige hesitates before saying, “You know, if you have other places to be, you can go do those. You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine–”

Before he can get any further, you cut him off, “Neige, I know we just met, but I’m not going to leave someone who’s upset behind. You seem sweet and I want to get to know you. It would be nice to get a new friend.”

You put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He looks up at you with wet eyes and hiccups slightly, trying to hold back newly formed tears. Your eyes go wide and your body moves on autopilot. You open your arms to offer a hug. 

“Hey, do you want a hug? Will that make you feel better?”

Neige hesitates before nodding. Given your cue, you envelop him in a warm, tight hug. Cradling him, you rub small circles on his back and whisper words of comfort. 

He breaks. Any semblance of wariness or guard that he had up before crumbles against your kindness and small persistence. He cries so hard that his whole body shakes against you. You squeeze tighter and you can tell that you are the only thing keeping him together at this moment. He ends up clinging and clawing at you as if you’re his only lifeline in the vast ocean. He sobs harder at your gentle approach to comforting him and a few broken words of gratitude spill from his mouth. 

“—Thank you, thank you so much. I never— I never got this growing up. I always had to put on a cheerful face to not worry my— my family. This means so much to me. Thank you, thank you (Y/N).”

You clutch him tighter, running a hand through his hair, as he sobs into your shoulder. You feel for him. You understand the struggles of having to carry everyone else’s burden even though it shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place. You ended up solving and resolving each overblot with only some of your classmates and practically no teachers. No responsible adults were around to help fight Riddle, restrain Leona, stop Azul, and punish Jamil. It had been getting exhausting. Thankfully, you got a week to yourself, but this wasn’t about you and you turned your attention back on your new friend, Neige. 

You allow him to get all the tears, sorrow, and pain out of his system. When his sobbing slows down and his breathing starts to even out, you reach into your bag to pull out some tissues, nudging Neige’s face with them. 

Upon feeling the tap, he looks up from where his face was buried in your shoulder. Tears and snot run down his face, and he takes the tissues with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” he breathes, taking the tissue and blowing into it.

After giving him some water, snacks, a lot of tissues, and more cuddles, he’s much more relaxed than he was earlier. His tired eyes are unable to focus on anything specific, as they flutter to stay awake. He continues to lean on you for support.

Chuckling, you ask, “Wanna lay down?”

Letting out an almost incoherent murmur of approval, he clutches onto your clothes, before asking, “Promise you won’t leave?”

You give him a soft smile that he’s unable to see with his eyes closed, and you lay the two of you down on the towel. You rest beside Neige, as he makes himself comfortable, nestling into your arms. 

“Of course, Snow,” you answer, “I’ll make sure to protect you if anything is out to get you.”

He nuzzles into you with a smile filled with sweet dreams, as he drifts off to sleep. After a while of listening to the ocean waves lap against the shore and feeling the slow steady breathing of the person next to you, you also find yourself lulled into the land of dreams.

~~~~~~

“You’re already skipping school. You might as well take the day off to relax and enjoy yourself,” you persuade, “Besides, would you leave your new friend behind to hang out at the beach by themselves?”

You look at Neige with playful and expectant eyes. He lets out a sigh and a small smile slips through, as he concedes. 

“I suppose taking one day off wouldn’t hurt.”

You give a cheer.

“Race you to the ocean!” you shout, scrambling to your feet. 

Neige squeaks in surprise, before he latches onto your ankle, tripping you. Landing on your hands with a small oof, Neige rushes past.

“Ok, pretty boy! I see how it is,” you cackle. 

Launching yourself from the ground into a runner’s sprint, you catch up to him. Wrapping your arms around Neige’s waist, you use your momentum to spin him around a couple of times before flinging him in the opposite direction of the coast. He screeches at the unexpected attack and begins laughing as he stumbles back, trying to regain his balance. Without hesitation, you turn back to the destination and bolt toward the finish line. 

The tempered ocean water hits your feet, slowing you down, as you raise your fists and cheer.

Neige jogs over with a stuttering laugh.

“Alright, alright, you win. Are you happy?” He asks with a grin.

“Immensely,” you beam.

~~~~~~

“We’ll have a [favorite ice cream/gelato flavor] and biscoff gelato, please,” you order from the ice cream parlor you found. 

The man behind the counter nods with a smile and begins scooping out your request. Neige’s eyes are wide as they turn to you.

“You don’t have to pay for mine,” he insists, pulling out his wallet. 

You stop his movements by putting a hand over his.

You hold eye contact with him, as you say, “I like and want to spoil you. You’re sweet, so getting you something sweet only makes sense. Please let me do this.”

Neige’s face heats up and you watch his brain malfunction for a few seconds, before turning away. You take the opportunity to pull out your card and give it to the owner of the shop, paying for your snacks. 

“That’s so sweet of you to pay for your boyfriend like that,” the owner comments, swiping your card.

Grinning, you wrap an arm around Neige’s waist, tugging him closer to you. 

“Yeah, he doesn’t treat himself that often, so I have to make sure he gets what he deserves,” you answer, winking at Neige.

Neige’s hand rushes to cover his blush as it spreads to the tips of his ears. The owner coos at you two, handing you your ice creams and card. You thank him on your way out, still attached at the hip with a flustered Neige. 

~~~~~~

The magic wheel zooms through the streets of Sage’s Island, and the sun casts a golden glow on you and Neige. He’s pressed right up against your back, clinging onto your waist. It’s warm and comforting. You’ve been riding aimlessly together for about half an hour, but seeing the sun setting, you figure you should take him home. 

Sneaking a glance at your companion, you watch his wide-eyed gaze explore the mountainous scenery. You smile before speeding up. You feel Neige’s chest move with twinkling laughter. He squeezes you tighter and leans in. Today has been a far better day than expected.

The sun has partially set in the sky as you pull up to the gates of the Royal Swords Academy. Putting the vehicle in park, you dismount the wheel, before offering your hand to help Neige off. 

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you say with a wink. 

Neige’s breath catches, as a hand comes to block his mouth in embarrassment. He places his other hand in yours, using it to get off. With both feet on the ground, he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky. You might as well have, you note, as the stars begin to peek out.

“When will I see you again? I want to see you again,” he pleads.

You blink in surprise at such a bold statement, before chuckling. 

“Well, I can come back tomorrow if you want me to. You know I have the week off,” you offer with a fond smile.

“Really?! You would do that? That wouldn’t ruin your vacation, would it?” he clarifies at a rapid pace.

You laugh, leaning against the magic wheel. 

“Honestly, Neige, if I didn’t leave NRC’s campus, I’d probably get dragged into some kind of shenanigans with Ace, Deuce, and Grim,” you explain, “I love them, but they’re a handful and I want a break. I would much rather hang out with you. It’s more peaceful and relaxing. Besides, I had a lot of fun today and I like getting to know you.” 

Neige’s mouth opens in a small oh, as his gaze softens. He clasps his hands in front of his heart, simply gazing at you. For a few moments, you just hold each other’s gaze, content and comfortable in the silence. You reach out to tuck a loose strand of hair away from Neige’s face. You let your hand linger, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb against it. His eyes droop and he nuzzles into your hold. Unable to resist, you draw him closer and loop an arm around his waist, before remembering–

“Your beret,” you murmur, “Let me get it for you.”

Moving to open one of the compartments on the magic wheel, you grab Neige’s hat only to settle back into the space in front of him. Placing the beret on his head, you let him adjust it. As he finishes, you notice unfamiliar red lettering along the border. Leaning in, you take a closer look.

“Someday my princess will come,” you quote.

Smiling, you continue, “Mmm, that’s cute. That sounds like something you would say, Neige.”

Your thumb runs over the embroidery, following every swirl of cursive on the beret. Your eyes flicker down to his to realize that you’re rather close. You can’t help but take a peek at his lips. They’re red, just like when you first met him, but this time they're slightly parted. You find yourself locking eyes with Neige’s brown ones once again, drawn together like magnets. Neige presses his body more snugly against you, watching for any signs of discomfort, as he rests his hands on your hips. You play with his lapel, before moving up to his shoulders and finally wrapping your arms around his neck. You give a playful smile, as you draw closer, and you feel Neige’s quiet laughter against your lips. Eyes sliding shut, you lean in. 

Before you can kiss, however–

“Neige, Neige! There you are!” 

“Do you know how much you made us worry?”

“We couldn’t find you after you ran out of the dorm– *achoo*!”

“And you–you left your phone at the dorm, so we had no way to contact you!”

“We looked everywhere in the academy, *yawns* even my favorite napping place.” 

“I can’t believe you skipped class. You should take us next time.”

“Toby, what are you talking about? We’re not supposed to skip class.” 

“Oops, sorry, I forgot.”

Neige lets out a whine, as his head falls against your shoulder. With the moment ruined, he hugs your waist tighter in protest. Laughing, you pat the poor boy’s shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. You take a look past him to identify the source of the shouts.

You spot seven short figures toddling their way over to the two of you from RSA’s gates. You’re unable to make out the fine details in the diminishing light, and instead opt to look back at Neige, his pitiful form still draped over you. These must be the seven dwarves that he was talking about earlier; the ones he grew up with. Based on their behavior, they seem to care about him just as much as Neige expressed his love and concern for them. You squeeze Neige tighter, grateful that he has a secure support network. He’s already been through a lot just based on what he’s told you so far.

Neige lets out another groan of despair, as you turn your full attention back towards him. Feeling a bit playful, you bring your face right next to his ear.

“I won’t let you go without a little something,” you tease.

Neige perks up, looking at you with wide and attentive eyes.

You chuckle at his reaction, murmuring that he’s cute, before leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek. He melts into your touch, gripping your waist tighter. Pulling away, you tap your own cheek with a quick wink. In the dim light, you’re barely able to make out the flush spreading across his face. His Adam's apple bobs, before he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle, and after a few seconds pull away.

“Enough to tide you over?” you question.

“...Barely,” he whispers, still stuck in the same spot, star-struck. 

“I trust your friends will make sure you get to your dorm safely?” you confirm, starting up the engine of the magic wheel. 

He nods.

“Good,” you smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Snow.”

“See you tomorrow, (Y/N),” he replies, before shaking out of his stupor and calling out, “Make sure to get home safe!”

You laugh, as you leave the Royal Swords Academy… at least for today.

“Thanks! Will do!” 

You’ll be back tomorrow. 

[noroi1000]

Important announcement

(I used some tags completely unrelated to this, sorry. But I did it so you could see it)

I opened requests and got a few from you. Sorry, I won't be able to do them.

Not now, and I don't know if I will ever do it in my life.

I'm leaving the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom.

It was a great adventure. When I started writing in 2020. I was writing before and I wanted to stop after what people wrote to me. I started to grow in this community and I was very happy.

The only reason I do this is myself. You may be offended or outraged by what I am writing now - The JJK fandom is rotten.

So much has happened over the years that this fandom has changed so much. It wasn't a good change.

Everyone may notice something different. But I now see a fandom that is not healthy. I was proud to be a Jujutsu Kaisen fan and I loved Gojo and Geto. Now I feel weird going on social media and seeing everything sexualized. The appearance of my favorite characters was destroyed in my eyes.

There are many people who do not change JJK for their preferences. But there are also many people who have made such a big mess of the fandom.

A fandom that has been damaged over the years cannot be easily repaired. It is very popular and there are more and more fans. And it all continues to change.

I leave my stories so that interested people can read them. I'm not deleting my account. I will continue to be Noroi.

This is my official goodbye to this Fics Fandom.

I have friends here, and I'm happy to have met them.

Thanks to you, I learned to write well.

Thanks to you, I learned to believe in myself and what I created.

Farewell, JJK friends.

–Noroi

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Brinkwhump Linkdump

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then San Francisco (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

Once again, I find myself arriving at the weekend with a giant backlog of links, triggering a linkump, the 15th such dumpage, a variety-pack of miscellany for your weekend. Here's the previous editions:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Let's start with the latest incredible news from KPMG, the accounting and auditing giant that is relied upon as a source of ground truth for a truly terrifying share of the world's economy. KPMG has a well-deserved reputation for incompetence and corruption. They first came on my radar in 2001 when they sent a legal threat to a blogger for linking to their website without permission:

https://memex.craphound.com/2001/12/05/reason-4332442-not-to-ask/

The actual link was to KPMG's corporate anthem, which remains, to this day, a banger:

https://web.archive.org/web/20040428063826/http://chkpt.zdnet.com/chkpt/uknewsita/http://anthems.zdnet.co.uk/anthems/kpmg.mp3

Don't miss the DJ remixes (and the Nokia ringtone!) that the internet thoughtfully provided when KPMG decided that it didn't want the world to know about "Our Vision of Global Strategy":

https://web.archive.org/web/20011128153057/http://corporateanthems.raettig.org/

Now all this is objectively very funny, a relic of the old, good internet from one of its moments of glory, but KPMG? They were already enshittifying, even in 2001, and the enshittification only intensified thereafter. Nearly every accounting scandal of the past quarter-century has KPMG in it somewhere, from con-artists selling exhausted oil fields to rubes:

https://www.desmog.com/2021/06/03/miller-energy-kpmg-auditors-oil-fraud/

To killer nursing homes that hire KPMG to audit its books – and to advise it on how to defeat safety audits and murder your grandma:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/09/dingo-babysitter/#maybe-the-dingos-ate-your-nan

They're the architects of Microsoft's tax-evasion plot:

https://www.propublica.org/article/the-irs-decided-to-get-tough-against-microsoft-microsoft-got-tougher

And they were behind Canada's dysfunctional covid contact-tracing app, which never worked, but generated tens of millions in billings to the government of Canada, who used KPMG to hire programmers at $1,500/day, plus KPMG's 30% commission:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/31/mckinsey-and-canada/#comment-dit-beltway-bandits-en-canadien

KPMG's most bizarre scandal is literally stranger than fiction. The company bribed SEC personnel help its own accountants cheat on ethics exams. The corrupt officials were then given high-paid jobs at KPMG:

https://www.nysscpa.org/news/publications/the-trusted-professional/article/sec-probe-finds-kpmg-auditors-cheating-on-training-exams-061819

I mean it when I say this is stranger than fiction. I included it as a plot-point in my new finance crime novel The Bezzle (now a national bestseller!), and multiple readers have written to me since the book came out a couple weeks ago to say that they thought I was straining their credulity by making up such an outrageous scandal:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

But all of that is just scene-setting (and a gratuitous plug for my book) for the latest KPMG scandal, which is, possibly, the most KPMG scandal of all KPMG scandals. The Australian government hired KPMG to audit Paladin, a security contractor that oversees the asylum seekers the country locks up on one of its island gulags (yes, gulags, plural).

Ever since, Paladin has been the subject of a string of ghastly human rights scandals – the worst stuff imaginable, rape and torture and murder of adults and children. Paladin made AU423 million on this contract.

And here's the scandal: KPMG audited the wrong company. The Paladin that the Australia government paid KPMG to audit was based in Singapore. The Paladin that KPMG audited was a totally different company, based in Papua New Guinea, who already had a commercial relationship with KPMG. It was this colossal fuckup that led to the manifestly unfit Singaporean company getting nearly half a billion dollars in public funds:

https://www.theguardian.com/business/2024/feb/24/incredible-failure-kpmg-rejects-claims-it-assessed-the-wrong-company-before-423m-payment-to-paladin

KPMG denies this. KPMG denies everything, always. Like, they denied creating "power maps" of decision-makers in the Australian government to target with influence campaigns in order to win contracts like this one. Who knows, maybe, this one time, they're telling the truth? After all, the company whose employees gather to sing lyrics like these can't be all bad, right?

The time is now to lead the way, We share the same the idea That may win by the end of the day. Our strength is here to stay. Identity, one energy, One strategy, with sympathy. These are the words that will lead us into a new world.

https://everything2.com/title/KPMG+corporate+anthem

You may find it strange that I'm still carrying around the factoid that KPMG once threatened to crush a blogger for linking to its terrible corporate anthem, but that's just my "Memex Method," which helps me keep track of literally everything that seemed important to me through most of my adult life:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

One of my favorite quips from the very quotable Riley Quinn is that "leftists are cursed with object-permanence" – that is, we actually remember what just happened and use it to think about what's happening now. The Memex Method is object permanence for 20+ years worth of stuff. A lot of those deep archives never see use, but there's a surprising number of leading indicators buried in the stuff that happened in years gone by.

Take James Boyle's 2014, XKCD-style comic about the experience of driving a notional Apple car:

https://www.thepublicdomain.org/2014/11/07/apple-updates-a-comic/

Apple, it turns out, spent the next decade working on just such a car, and while that car has now been canceled, Boyle's comic correctly anticipates so much about the trajectory Apple's products took. It's uncannily accurate – real "don't invent the torment nexus"/"cyberpunk was a warning, not a suggestion" stuff:

https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/torment-nexus

But no matter how many times we insist that the torment nexus shouldn't be created, the boardrooms of end-stage capitalism continue to invent them. Take HP, the poster-child for enshittification, edging out even KPMG in the race to turn everything into a pile of shit. After years of tormenting people to punish them for wanting to print things, HP has announced a new service that so mustache-twirlingly evil that it lacks verisimilitude:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2024/02/hp-wants-you-to-pay-up-to-36-month-to-rent-a-printer-that-it-monitors/

Here's the pitch: HP will sell you a printer that you don't own. In addition to paying a monthly fee for your ink – which you pay no matter whether you print or not – you will also pay a monthly fee just for having HP's printer on your premises. You are absolutely, positively forbidden from using third-party ink in this printer, and must use HP's own ink, which sells for about $10,000/gallon.

But while you aren't allowed to use this printer in ways that are bad for HP's shareholders, HP is absolutely free to use the printer in ways that are bad for you. When you click through the signup agreement, you grand HP permission to surveil every document you print – and your home wifi network more generally – and to sell that data to anyone and everyone.

What's more, HP reserves the right to discipline you with punitive credit-card charges if you disconnect this printer from the internet, on the basis that doing so makes it harder for them to spy on your printer.

I'm sorry, this is just more torment nexus shit, the kind of thing you'd expect to drop on Apr 1, not Feb 29, but I guess this is where we are. I can only conjecture as to whether HP's businesses strategists are directly taking direction from my novella "Unauthorized Bread," or whether they're learning about it second-hand from a KPMG consultant who converted it to Powerpoint form and charged $1,500/day for the work:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

All of this cartoonish villainry is the totally foreseeable consequence of a culture of impunity, in which companies like HP and KPMG can rob, cheat, steal (and sometimes even kill) without consequence. This impunity is so pervasive that the exceptions – where a rich criminal faces real consequences – become touchstones: Enron, Arthur Anderson, Theranos, and, of course, FTX.

FTX was arguably the largest-scale corporate crime in world history, stealing more than $10 billion dollars, mostly from rubes sucked in by hype and Superbowl ads. When news that FTX founder and owner Sam Bankman-Fried was convicted of fraud and was in for a lengthy prison sentence made a huge stir, because criminals like SBF usually walk away from the wreckage with their hands in their pockets, whistling a jaunty tune.

One of the very best commentators on cryptocurrency scams generally and FTX/SBF in particular is Molly White, whose Web3 is Going Just Great feed is utterly indispensable. White's newsletter, "Citation Needed," dives deep into the wrangle of SBF's sentencing:

https://www.citationneeded.news/issue-52/

Bankman-Fried's parents – prominent law professors at top law schools – helped brief the court this week on their son's punishment. According to them, SBF faces 100 years in prison, but should be sentenced to 5.5-6.5 years at the most. Why? Because he is a vegan, who is not greedy, and feels remorse, and cares for individuals (recall that SBF presented himself as the avatar of the batshit "effective altruism" philosophy while privately admitting that he used this as a smokescreen).

The most bizarre note in the 100-page filing is SBF's mother declaring that her son is an "angel of mercy," apparently unaware of the grisly meaning of that term:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angel_of_mercy_(criminology)

America's prisons are a travesty and I wouldn't wish them on anyone, but that's not the argument SBF's parents are making; rather, they're arguing that their special boy doesn't deserve the treatment America metes out to poorer, less white people who merely steal hundreds or thousands of dollars. A crook who steals ten billion should be handled the way a casino handles a whale – with concierge service.

The problem is, there are so many of these remorseless, relentless crooks that there's no way we could scale up that white-glove treatment when we finally round 'em all up and make them pay. Writing for The American Prospect, Maureen Tkacik tells us about the ransomware attack that shut down America's pharmacy system last month:

https://prospect.org/health/2024-03-01-zoomer-hackers-shut-down-unitedhealthcare/

The attack brought down Change Healthcare, part of the monopolist Unitedhealth, which serves as the "pharmacy benefit manager" to a vast swathe of American pharmacies. PBM is one of those all-American finance scams, a middleman garlanded with performative complexity put there to make you feel stupid for asking why independent pharmacies all have to pay rent to this malicious, unaccountable – and now, manifestly incompetent – gang of crooks.

Tkacik's breakdown of this scam – and how it rendered Americans' ability to get the drugs they depend on to go on breathing – is characteristically brilliant. Tcacik is fast emerging as my favorite Explainer of Scams, a print version of John Oliver or Adam Conover. You may recall her work from my post last week on how private equity has taken a wrecking ball to America's hospitals:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/28/5000-bats/#charnel-house

I always try to finish these linkdumps with some upbeat news to carry you through the weekend, and this week brought two genuinely wonderful – and totally underreported – pieces of amazing news.

The first is that Starbucks has sued for peace in the war against its workers' unions. Hundreds of Starbucks stores have unionized in recent years, but not one of them had a contract. Instead, Starbucks had waged dirty war on their own workers, from denying gender-affirming care to unionized employees to simply shutting down whole stores after they voted to unionize:

https://www.cnbc.com/2022/06/14/starbucks-union-company-threatens-that-unionizing-could-jeopardize-gender-affirming-health-care.html

But the workers held fast and after years of this, Starbucks has caved, promising contracts for all unionized stores and an end to its campaign of terror against workers seeking to unionize more of its stores. In a postmortem for Jacobin, Eric Blanc rounds up "seven lessons from Starbucks workers' historic victory":

https://jacobin.com/2024/02/starbucks-sbwu-contract-bargaining/

This is the kind of listicle I can get behind. According to Blanc, the Starbucks unions won by deploying worker-to-worker organizing, a tactic that many of the new unions that are shaking up formerly impossible-to-organize jobsites are using (Blanc has a book about this coming from UC Press called "We Are the Union: How Worker-to-Worker Unionism Can Transform America," so he should know).

Other tactics that made the difference for Starbucks unions: new digital training and support tools and partnering with established unions for support and infrastructure. Blanc also calls out the success of "salting" – the venerable but largely disused tactic of union organizers applying for a job at a non-union shop in order to organize it.

Blanc also mentions government policy, including the outstanding work of NLRB general counsel Jennifer Abruzzo, a shrewd and committed tactician whose understanding of the technicalities of labor law have let her push for bold measures. For example, in Thrive Pet Care, Abruzzo is arguing that when a company refuses to bargain in good faith for a contract with its union, she can step in and order them to honor the terms of a contract at comparable unionized competitors until they produce a contract of their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

Abruzzo is one of several smart, competent tacticians in the Biden administration who are working to kneecap corporate power. Another is Rohit Chopra, chair of the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau, who just announced another bold, important initiative that will help Americans fight corporate corruption and get a fair deal:

https://prospect.org/economy/2024-03-01-public-option-credit-card-shopping/

Chopra is taking aim at credit-card comparison sites that purport to show you where you can get the best deal. If you're an affluent person who doesn't carry a balance, this might not matter to you, but if you're an average working stiff, high interest rates can gobble up a massive share of your paycheck. What's more, credit card margins are higher than they have ever been:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/blog/credit-card-interest-rate-margins-at-all-time-high/

The most expensive credit cards come from the big, monopolistic banks, but you wouldn't know it from the leaderboards produced by Credit Karma, NerdWallet, LendingTree, and Bankrate. All of these sites take bribes from the big banks to list their credit cards above those offered by credit unions – who are typically 10% cheaper than the big banks' cards.

The new CFPB rule prohibits this fraudulent ranking, but the Bureau is going even further. They're using their administrative powers to force banks to report their rates to the Bureau, which will publish them on a publicly funded, neutral website – what David Dayen calls "a public option" for shopping for credit cards.

This policy makes a perfect bookend to the last CFPB initiative I wrote about here: a rule that forces banks to allow you to transfer your account to a rival with a couple of simple clicks, importing all your history, payees, and everything else you need to switch to a better bank:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights

Combine that ease of switching with reliable information on which banks will give you the best deal and you get something that will directly transfer millions and millions of dollars from giant, wildly profitable banks to low-income people who've been tricked into paying them punitive interest rates.

So that's it, this week's linkdump. I promised you I'd end on a high note, and I did it. The world may be full of all kinds of terrible things, but workers and regulators are scoring big, muscular victories in battles where the stakes are real and important. Have a great weekend – we've earned it.

And remember!

The time is now to lead the way, We share the same the idea That may win by the end of the day. Our strength is here to stay. Identity, one energy, One strategy, with sympathy. These are the words that will lead us into a new world.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/02/macedoine/#the-public-option

Image: Stacy (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/notahipster/4402860361/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can I request a oneshot with Leshy from Cult of the Lamb and this child follower who just follows him eVeRyWhErE, and after getting mad at the child he's just like, 'yo heket I have a kid' and he's unbelievably chill about it after that and eventually just brings the kid with him instead of the child stalking him. (And platonically because I'm not that kind of weird--)

If you don't write for platonics or just don't want to write this please ignore-- have a wonderful timezone!

Awe this is such a cute idea!! Also for the child follower y/n I decided to make Lamb their parent (I'll leave the other parent up to interpretation).

...........

"Lesh!"

"Augh!! Lamb's little brat...how dare you stand in my way?! I could have tripped over you and spilled all these beetroots!"

"Sorry. I thought you'd wanna play tag..."

"Tag? No, thank you. I feel as though I'd be at a great disadvantage. Why don't you go find somebody else to play with? Perhaps someone who still has their sight."

"Okaaaay!"

"Good. Now away with you." Shooing you off, Leshy heard your hoof-steps running away from him. As he put the vegetables into the farming station's chest, he growled in irritation upon hearing Lamb's annoying bleating, as well as your own as you greeted them.

If only he could roll his nonexistent eyes...

For the Red Crown's vessel to marry their most devoted follower was one thing...but to have a child with them, too??

That's something he didn't expect when he first arrived into the cult. It probably wouldn't have bothered him so much if you weren't half-sheep and chose to annoy him in particular.

He's not sure how much time had passed between your birth and Lamb "saving" him and his siblings from purgatory...but you've grown into quite the irritable spawn.

You only proved his point when you returned a few minutes later, and he slammed the chest closed, making you stop in your tracks.

"The clopping of your hooves gives me a headache sometimes..what is it now?"

"Lammy asked me to ask you if um...you could lead the harvest ritual this evening?" You smiled up at him, oblivious to his attitude and snappy words.

".....they couldn't just ask me themselves??!" He groaned. "Fine. Tell them I will begin it at sundown. And I'm not waiting for everyone. If they're late, oh well."

"Will do! Thank you, Lesh!!"

The green bushworm huffed and tried going back to his work, only to become startled when you rammed into him, hugging his torso tightly. It made him tense up as he hissed angrily at you. "Don't touch!!!"

You let him go, confused. "Why?"

"Because....!!!" Leshy paused, having remembered that Lamb was likely close by, watching him. So he took a moment to think of another excuse. "...because..you may get ichor in your wool. We bishops haven't fully healed yet..so you may get sick."

"Ohhhhh, I see it. Sorry, Lesh! I'll be more careful next time!"

Nodding, he heard you leave to tell your parent what he said, and he was convinced you were officially gone for good this time.

Then his ears picked up the sound of a wheezy chuckle.

"I hear you, sister..."

"Brother...is...warming up....to them.." Heket teased as she approached her younger brother, nudging his elbow playfully.

"As if! I only put on the act because Lamb's around." He scoffed, shaking his head. "They won't hesitate to make me relive my death again if I do anything to upset their little spawn.."

"Hm..good...luck. I'm...hungry...bye...." The red frog decided to leave him alone and head to the kitchen station.

And for a while, Leshy was able to finish his tasks at the farm without any disturbances. But just as he brushed the dirt off his hands and was ready to eat, too, he overheard Lamb talking with a random follower who hollered their name from across the base.

They spoke of having trouble confessing to someone they liked...so they wanted their leader to get flowers from his realm as a "gift" for this crush of theirs.

He thought it was outrageous.

'Does nobody here want to lift a finger anymore?! Or maybe..they're just too scared to enter my realm...so it must be doing well even without me to rule it. But if Lamb's going there, then.....no...would they..?'

It suddenly dawned on Leshy, and he scratched his bandages, finally remembering something that has been weighing heavily on his mind:

A relic.

Specifically a piece of him that was lost to the woods.

He remembers commanding the worms to hide it for him so none of his devotees tried to seize its power for themselves.

For as long as he's been in Lamb's cult, he learned they were an excellent scavenger--willing to retrieve bundles of silk or crystals for their more artsy followers, and even mushrooms for those who were "curious" about them.

They've reunited friends and siblings...even the ones who killed their entire species.

Surely, he could ask them about it.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

After the follower left, Leshy walked over to you and Lamb, ignoring your greeting of excitement when he arrived, as well as him making no effort to stop you from playing with his tail. It just swished around, and you kept jumping over it like some rope.

"Lamb. Just so we're clear..this is not a favor, I do not need your charity." He warned.

"...okay? What is it?" They tilted their head, closing their doctrine book.

"Well...when dear brother Narinder struck us in his fury, my eyes were torn from the socket. One was salvaged, and hidden in the tangled Darkwood. I despair at the thought of it being uncovered by some simple-minded beast..."

He took a pause, before sighing. "You have navigated my realm once before, do so again and recover my eye. Perhaps we can...make an arrangement."

As expected, Lamb was adamant. "Why should I find something that your "dear brother" took? Why don't you ask him since it's his fault? Or maybe you can go find it yourself?"

"You know I can't. If he goes, he'll lie and claim it's gone forever. If I go, all of Darkwood will be out for my head!" He huffed. "I thought it was your duty to cater to your followers' needs. You've never sent one back into the maw of Silk Cradle to find their lost brother, even though it's their fault for-"

"That's different, Leshy. You don't get to group yourself with them just yet." They warned, scowling at him. "They don't know these realms like you do. They have good hearts, led astray by your hubris and corruption. You were a rotten bishop who ruined their lives..ruined my life...and on that note, you've shown my child nothing but disrespect since the moment you arrived."

At the mention of you, you stopped playing around and frowned. "Lammy-"

"Disrespect?! They've been following me nonstop and disrupting my work!!" He exploded. "But of course you'll never believe me because they're such a "perfect little angel" in your eyes-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH, WRETCHED WORM!!!"

Suddenly, Leshy felt his throat tightening up as his feet were lifted off the ground. And he coughed, clasping his hands around his neck as he realized what was happening to him:

Lamb was strangling him.

And there's no way for him to fight the invisible force that kept crushing his windpipe. He could only gag and beg for mercy, becoming panicked quickly as the ichor dripped down his face faster.

Why did this feel more agonizing than the sharp blades that sliced and diced into him dozens of times?

"Never forget the god who usurped you and granted vermin like you the blessing of redemption.." The sheep snarled, eyes glowing red with rage, sharp teeth bared as they watched the bushworm writhe. "Speak illy of my child again, and I will-"

"Lammy, stop it!! You're hurting him!"

They felt a tug on their cloak and looked at you, having forgotten that you've been standing there the entire time. A look of horror flashed in their eyes as they quickly set Leshy down, allowing him to catch his breath.

"Oh no..I...forgive me, my dear." Embracing you, they gave you a tiny smile after their demonic features disappeared. "I-I didn't mean to make you see that, but...you must understand why I did it, right? He was being very rude and unkind to-"

"He didn't mean it." You pouted, although you did hug them back. "Will you find his eye?"

Leshy glanced up in bewilderment.

Did he hear you correctly?

Lamb was just as stunned that you were taking his side, blinking. "But [y/n]-"

"No! You have to find it, Lammy! He's only grouchy because he doesn't have his missing eye." Your gaze went to the bushworm. "I bet if you find it for him, he'll feel better!"

"...I suppose you're right about that." They sighed in defeat, standing up and turning to him. "You are fortunate that my child has such a forgiving heart, so...I will search for your eye when I have the time. But remember that I'm doing this for them, not for you."

Leshy just nodded in understanding, awkwardly scratching his bandages as he heard hoof steps walking away from him. Yet he was too afraid of moving from his kneeling position.

"It's okay. It's just me, Lesh."

Feeling your smaller hands take his own, his shoulders relaxed a little as you brushed some of the ichor off his face with a cloth you found. "Don't cry, it's okay now."

"I-I..had it coming." He finally found his voice, still shaken up over the altercation. "It's my fault. I was the one acting more childish than you..and I owe you an apology for-"

"No, Lammy should be sorry." You frowned and hugged him. "I don't like it when they do that. You're right..they should help everyone here. Even you."

This time he didn't push you away and instead wrapped his arms around you, feeling the wool on top of your head and the nubs that would soon sprout into horns.

Lamb was right.

He felt blessed to have your forgiveness...or else he surely would have met a grim demise.

Maybe you weren't as annoying as he previously thought.

"..thank you, [y/n], for standing by me. Will you...let me know when your parent returns with my eye?" He hesitated to ask.

Yet you immediately answered with enthusiasm.

"Of course!"

..........

"Sister! My child's green thumb continues to flourish!"

"....you....have...child...?"

"Over there!"

"...Lamb's....spawn-?"

"No, no! That is [y/n]!" Leshy huffed, shaking his head as he heard you rapidly approaching. Then he crouched down with a smile, keeping his arms open so you could rush into them. "How are you today?"

"Great, Lesh!!" You giggled as he picked you up, although he sensed that you put something on his head. "It's a camelia crown. The most beautiful ones I could find! I feel sad you can't see it, though..."

"That is alright, little one. I still remember their colors and radiance.." His claws reached up to gently brush the petals, humming with nostalgia. "Its fragrance remains constant..so I know it's always here with me. Thank you."

Looking at Heket, you giggled again as you saw that her extra pair of eyes were now open, wide with disbelief at her brother's sudden change of heart. "Hek-Hek! I didn't know you had four eyes!"

"...what did...you do...to...brother?" She squinted in suspicion.

"Well, umm..I-" You stammered, trying to explain yourself.

"They insisted that Lamb recovered my eye." Leshy was quick to explain, setting you down on the ground. "At first they refused and got irrationally angry with me for "insulting" their child. But [y/n] spoke up in my defense and...their "Lammy" listened and retrieved it this morning. Looks like it was in one of Chemach's lairs, but I let them keep it."

"Huh.....why..?"

"It's more useful to them as a relic. It's not like I can reattach my own eye and see out of it again, but I find peace knowing it's here."

"...good...point..." Heket paused, before touching her own throat and thinking for a few moments. "Would...Lamb....find....it for..me...?"

"A throat sac? Hmm..you can certainly try, sister."

Nodding in understanding, she turned and walked away, eager to ask Lamb if they were willing to recover what she had lost within Anura.

Once she was gone, you tapped Leshy on the arm. "Can you help me get the fertilizer for the plants? It's....kinda icky and really smelly."

He smiled as well, patting the top of your head. "Of course, little one. You can leave all the "icky" work to me."

And with that, you both set off to the farming plot, with him not being bothered by your presence anymore.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

so this post is inspired by a person who sent an ask to @my-nitpicking-self (i hope you don't mind me tagging you), who mentioned the confrontation between katara and zuko in atla, in reference to glimmer's and catra's relationship in spop. i thought it was an interesting comparison, so i'm going to expand on it.

so two very similar scenes in atla and spop: katara and zuko being stuck together in crystal catacombs and glimmer and catra being stuck together in horde prime's ship. two things to note here - zuko was beginning to heal at this point and had almost completely given up his mission of capturing aang, while catra has just finished conquering salineas and was neck-deep in villainy.

as soon as katara sees zuko, she becomes outraged. keep in mind, zuko did not kill katara's mother. but she still had a valid reason to be mad at him. she holds him accountable for everything he has done.

K: Why did they throw you in here? Oh, wait, let me guess. It's a trap. So that when Aang shows up to help me, you can finally have him in your little Fire Nation clutches!

K: You're a terrible person! You know that? Always following us! Hunting the Avatar! Trying to capture the world's last hope for peace! But what do you care? You're the Fire Lord's son. Spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood!

Z: You don't know what you're talking about.

K: I don't? How dare you! You have no idea what this war has put me through! Me personally! The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.

here, zuko doesn't try to argue with katara until she implies that violence and aggression is an inherited thing, because he's from the fire nation. zuko accepts his mistakes but he is also aware that being a fire nation citizen or even royalty alone doesn't make you a bad person. even then, he doesn't raise his voice or lash out at her, he just calmly disagrees.

after katara mentions her mother, he apologizes and sympathizes with her.

Z: I'm sorry. That's something we have in common.

K: I'm sorry I yelled at you before.

Z: It doesn't matter.

K: It's just that for so long now, whenever I would imagine the face of the enemy, it was your face.

katara also apologizes but zuko understands that it was completely in her right to blame him. and then we get to the crux of the issue. katara's mother was killed years ago but she still hasn't been able to move on from the grief.

now, of course, zuko again turns back to villainy but this was an important confrontation. and it wasn't the only one. as you all know, after zuko's official redemption, the gaang still doesn't trust him and katara is the last person to forgive him. she is still upset and disappointed by the way he betrayed her after they had begun to bond in the catacombs. and zuko has to prove his loyalty before katara could forgive him.

now let's come to glimmer and catra. catra DIRECTLY caused the death of glimmer's mother. and it was recent. glimmer had been grappling with her grief in the last season, to the point where she spirals into a small corruption arc. s4 of spop does NOT forget angella's death.

so obviously, you would expect there to be a confrontation between glimmer and catra in s5, especially since they were alone together in a confined space. but let's see what happened.

Glimmer: You again. Why do you keep coming back here?

Catra: Just...bored, I guess.

Glimmer: No, I mean, Horde Prime told you not to talk to me. He's gonna catch you eventually. Why risk it? ...You're lonely, aren't you?

so far, no confrontation, no apology.

Catra: What do you know? You're the prisoner here. I can go where I want. So, stay here by yourself for all I care.

Glimmer: Okay, okay, you're right. It...helps having someone to talk to. Even if you're the last person I'd ever want to be stuck here with.

Catra: Trust me, Sparkles, the feeling is mutual.

and just like that, they're on better terms now. glimmer doesn't bring up angella's death, she doesn't bring up the way catra treated adora, how she and bow were kidnapped by catra, nothing. they seem more like casual rivals than enemies here. catra doesn't seem guilty in the slightest, she just has to threaten to leave and glimmer immediately makes her stay.

and not just that, they joke about adora's paranoia that was rooted in her trauma, as if it's just a fun quirk. at this point, it's clear that the writers are not even trying to make it seem like they don't favor catra over all the characters.

and the one time glimmer somewhat confronts catra—

G: Please, Catra. Do one good thing in your life!

C: Don't talk to me like you know me! You don't know anything about me!

of course, catra shuts her down immediately. and afterwards, even when catra saves glimmer, she makes it clear that she's only doing it for adora. while on the surface, this might still come off as a good deed, it's clear from her later behaviour that catra's goal wasn't to help either adora or glimmer. my best guess is that she was practically awaiting death at that point and didn't expect to face the consequences of her actions, so she wanted to go out with one good deed, much like shadow weaver.

it's crazy how zuko, who was just an antagonist and has done very little to directly hurt the gaang, faced the consequences of his actions and got a drawn out and detailed redemption; while catra, who spent the entire series hurting the protagonists out of her own interest, gets off scot-free.

any time her past actions are brought up, they are mentioned in the vaguest terms possible i.e. “she made some mistakes” or “shs hurt people”. it's so clear that the writers were hoping that if the other characters forgot everything that catra did, the audience would do the same. and the worst part is that they're right. 90% of the fandom were willing to accept catra's redemption because no one in the show ever holds her accountable or confronts her properly.

[cr1mson5returns]

my fav version of tim drake is similar to the post of yours that made me follow you

my fav tim drake is that time he got an uncle to avoid adoption taken to the extreme. hes never been robin, not a bat, but he does follow them on patrol taking pics and occasionally intervening and they cant quite manage to stop him. hes dick grayson's nemesis because he no matter where he is, all he can think about is finally getting that kid to sit down and eat a proper meal and take a nap. jason comes back from the dead and tim has been deterring batman from violence with a squirt gun instead of a robin and jason almost hates him more for it. damian thinks he is an excellent operative, held in high esteem by his grandfather, and at first tim doesn't know what to make of that but then starts putting him to use for shenanigans. you get the idea

Oh, God, but Tim maintaining a professional relationship with Ra's al Ghul is everything I've ever desired? This weird old undead motherfucker is constantly bugging him about joining up and being his right-hand man and conquering the unruly world together and bringing peace and justice once and for all, blah blah blah, but Tim just isn't interested in that. Sounds like a lot of responsibility to have at his age, frankly. He's good just calling in the occasional favor and redirecting Batman's fury with the League of Assassins.

Also, like...I've officially started tagging these things "morally gray tim drake has my heart" because he does, y'all. He does! I do so very much enjoy the interpretation of Tim Drake as a morally gray character regardless of age (but especially in the Red Robin run) and I do think it's a valid way lens through which to see him.

The thing that makes Tim stand out to me is this undercurrent of tone to everything he does which implies that he views himself as inconsequential to the narrative. I might be in the minority here and that's fine(ish), but I've always thought about what would drive an emotionally abused and neglected 13-year-old child to try everything in his power to save his hero from killing himself and/or becoming public enemy #1. And maybe I'm projecting, but it always seems to come back to: "Well, I don't trust anyone else to be capable of doing it." He tried to talk to Dick, and Dick wouldn't take Robin back up, but Nightwing wasn't what Batman needed. And sure, they could've waffled about and tried to find someone else to be Robin. But Tim was right there and in the absence of anyone else he felt was qualified to do it, he just...did it.

Tim sees Batman (and Nightwing and Robin by extension) as being so incredibly significant to the overarching narrative. He knows that Batman doesn't really reduce crime, not in a city with local politics as corrupt as Gotham. He knows that it doesn't functionally matter if Batman gets this guy and not that guy, because it all shakes out the same. When there's a huge crisis, when Gotham City needs a symbol of everything that's still good here, still worth saving, Batman shows up and saves the day. Batman isn't allowed to succumb to human flaws like grief, despair, and outrage. People need him to mean more than that. Tim will do whatever it takes to secure and maintain that almost otherworldly level of heroism for Batman. If it gets him dirty in the process, he doesn't mind. Tim Drake won't be remembered. Batman will.

Of course, this is also why I think it's so fucking funny that Tim is at a point where he's just throwing death wish ideas at a wall until something sticks and hollering at the universe, "JUST KILL ME ALREADY!!!!"

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

a/n: and here is chapter 2. there was a lot of fun that went into writing this chapter and it’s great to finally have it out to be read. enjoy any references you can spot because i had fun inserting them. we are all the reader and we are clearly on our willow park vibe. i was late to add it to the masterlist but irnbtv can also be read on AO3.

Taglist (send an ask to be added or removed); @etherisy, @crowbird​, @junephantom21​, @tanspostsblog​, @yaesflorist​, @d4y-dr3am3r​, @liesatemyocean, @masayanausuario, @xiaorby001​, @ghostlysyntaxed​, @personified-smol​, @jasontoddisfantastical​, @kurawooooooo, @yuii-v​, @joeyxsnow​, @levisbebe, @lemonlimesocks​, @celestialsiren​ , @ainescribe​,

Bold couldn’t be tagged.

chapter ii; finding your roots masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Dear Master Diluc,

Fuck offー

Dear Master Diluc,

We get on like water and oil; that is to say, Pyro and Dendro. Fire and Plants. You clearly represent the fire. Which, if you ever took the time of day to get to know me you’d know I fuckingー

Dear Master Diluc, 

What if we just broke off the engagement? 

No one would blame you for it. After all, to everyone else I’m just the Mad Dog of the [Surname] Duchy and a Crazy Bitch. I don’t want to just pull the misogyny card out all willy nilly but this world finds fault in a woman even if she isn’t 100% to blame in a relationship falling apart. Because I’m not.

You failed this relationship by willfully leading me on like I’m some sort of dog that you can give the carrot and stick treatment and I am tired ofー

Dear Master Diluc,

How else can I say it? 

You’re being let go. 

Your department’s being downsized. 

You’re part of an outplacement. 

We’re going in a different direction. 

I’m not picking up your optionー

Dear Master Diluc,

While it would be best to say this in person, I feel like it would be best done through the written word. 

Simply put, I don’t love you anymore. 

Firstly, you do not love me. You weren’t obligated to return any feelings I had for you and I do apologize if my actions ever made you uncomfortable. But it would have been easier discerning you only considered our engagement a political one and had no love for me you two-timing, ginger piece ofー

Okay. Me. I know we hate him, but we need to do this in a way that won’t get me killed afterwards. You had no clue if it was possible for Diluc to kill you directly in Hard Mode; you never made it that far, unfortunately. Still, it wasn’t worth the risk when his favorability was at -10% to start with. Even if he didn’t attack you directly, some sort of ridiculous event could transpire with you dying in the process whether by fork or broken neck. And we can’t mention him cheating, he hasn’t done it. Yet.

You grimaced, looking at your most recent attempts at trying to script a sound and reasonable breakup letter.

To the compost they went.

You had plenty of time to come up with something more amicable before you officially split from the main cast of Seraphim’s characters. As it turned out, avoiding them was quite easy when you were at rock bottom status and most didn’t want to invite you to social affairs because of it.

You always found it strange how the parents of characters such as these rarely cared about the things that went on in their lives but you were thankful the negligent parent trope applied even now. As long as you didn’t do anything too outrageous, the Duke saw it fit to leave you be. So you had wasted no time in shopping after the idea struck you that you were in serious need of test supplies.

Now it had been nearly a month since the luncheon and things were going well all things considered. Perhaps too well, hence why you didn’t let yourself rest completely. For the time being, avoiding the main cast was your priority. Even if you weren’t fearfully fighting for your life because of Hard Mode, you read plenty of villainess manhwa to know where things would go if you interacted with them.

All I’d do is accidentally seduce someone and end up in a harem a la Catarina Claes, you reasonably concluded your first night of constructing a plan to leave the kingdom. Therefore, like Zombieland’s Columbus, you had your own internalized set of rules for surviving the situation you landed yourself in.

No writing things down. Carnelia Easter thought she was safe because she was writing in Korean but then that hot evil dude decoded everything and figured out how she knew everything that was happening.

Speaking of Carnelia, I don’t know what type of villainess isekai trope I’m in so avoid the love interests and if they can’t be, be as platonic as possible. This’ll either go the usual accidental harem route or in the Carnelia route of everything I do being seen as shitty and evil for the longest and ending up in me dying because of misunderstandings. I should probably avoid banging anyone in the first place even if they aren’t a love interest. It’s giving ‘Fantasy Game set in the Slut Shaming Era’ in Teyvat.

No rescuing any beggars or injured animals. That trope is as plain as day and old as hell. They always end up being some hot dude with way more baggage than originally intended when the protag first brings them in.

If I somehow end up being a lucky Raeliana where some really high level priest wants to adopt me and take me away on a pilgrimage, take it. It’ll get me out of here faster, but… knowing my luck that definitely isn’t going to happen.

In the case of this being a situation where Lumine is some other reincarnated girl from my world who isn’t a girl’s girl, forget any plan I already have set in motion and abandon ship immediately. It will not be worth any trouble I get. She can have whatever love interest she is obsessed with and I’ll gladly skedaddle.

In the case I catch feelings for someone or the horny gets too strong, I guess it’s fine later down the line if I do end up meeting a nice person. Just as long as it isn’t a love interest. And after I’ve left this place. Fucking hell, where’s MY Caesar? Not the Villainess Divorce Caesar, the one that dies in JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. Rest in Peace, my hunky beloved.

Excessive as they were, you knew these rules would keep you alive and on track. If only this was something like, I Reincarnated into the Heroine of My Favorite Otome Game and Seduced the Villainess. [First] I would have treated you right. With a sigh you stood up; you wasted enough of your paper trying to write a breakup letter and imagining being Lumine wouldn’t help your progress. Back to work I go.

The staff either thought you lost your mind or that perhaps you were returning to ‘your’ commoner roots, either way field cultivation was where you decided to direct the bulk of your attention.

Field one was for testing the extent of amplifying growth with Dendro.

Field two was for testing how long you could keep plants alive with Dendro.

Then there was field three, the Dendro-less control group.

Wherever you went, if you were going to make use of your newfound abilities to support yourself, you needed to know what all you could do. After all, you had plenty of questions and your endless supply of knowledge on Light and Abyssal magic from Normal Mode wasn’t going to help you answer them.

Maybe I should go to the Akademiya. The various books Lumine found in Normal Mode always proved themselves useful in the hidden gems Seraphim had to offer. Her research had always been geared towards her own magic, however, so most of the in-game books you read had to do with the topic. And I should really get some fertilizer for field three… Maybe I can get some at Pardis Dhyai? I could always go there to get herbs for potions but there’s bound to be other things there to purchase too.

But for now, the progress you were making was something to be satisfied with. Or maybe it wasn’t. You couldn’t find yourself caring considering you still had this high for the past month. I can do magic! 

A large portion of you is sure that any of the magic types of Seraphim would have been satisfactory for you.

Geo would have meant you were an earthbender like Toph.

You remembered your moody teenage days of being annoyed by the constant loop of Let It Go but it was too easy to imagine yourself belting out the lyrics and attempting to see if you could make icy-themed outfits like Elsa if you could use Cryo.

And the idea of literal lightning being at the beck and call of your fingertips gave you a power surge that made you shudder with cackles.

Yet there was something wholly satisfying with Dendro being the magic your transmigrated self was stuck with.

Lumine described Light magic like a warmth in her chest. A faint glow that became blinding light behind her eyelids until it burst forth. That light was pure and feathery, an energy silky to the touch.

For you, Dendro felt like life itself. Behind your eyelids was a forest of tall trees and grass unkempt but beautiful and your fingertips felt like blooms were sprouting from them. 

The easiest thing to make, you found, were leaves and grass. It was practically Dendro 101. A quick wave of your hand and a spray of leaves would strike in the direction you aimed in. When you first began experimenting with field one, you found that weeds seem to grow faster than your seeds did.

Specific plants required more specific mana instructions.

Roses felt like they were cloaked in perfume, earthy elegance exuding from them in waves.

Dandelions depended on the stage of life they were in; the flowers felt like they peppered your hands with its energy. Meanwhile seedheads felt light and wispy, ready to drift at a moment's notice.

Sunflowers were like the sun, bursting with inexplicable warmth. A humble leader.

Fruits were sweet and fluid, flexible in a way you couldn’t explain. Vegetables had a similar nuance, but the sweet was lacking.

You chalked these discoveries as simply needing to gather as much information as you could before you left. Yet not even you could deny that these discoveries were more so dependent on the child-like glee you had at the fact you were, in your own right, a mixture of Cornelia Hale, Winx Club’s Flora, Shiemi Moriyama and Willow Park. Oh my gosh this is so cool! Sorry Haylin, Sorry Irma, I’m all Team Plant right now.

You were giggling as you weeded your fields for your compost.

This magical stupid hierarchy doesn’t know what it’s talking about, you look at your work proudly. This is way cooler than anything else I could have been given. (You ignored the minute part of you that wanted to debate how this thought would have been the same regardless of your element.)

You wouldn’t let yourself get too distracted by magical antics; you still had many questions that needed to be answered.

The amplification of growth was easy enough once you began realizing the patterns. As for testing the durability your magic gave plants, that was still a work-in-progress. 

You look at your second field with your lips pursed. It was hard to tell if your magic was actually doing anything. So I definitely need to ask someone about that if I can’t get any direct answers from the books. You considered asking Alhaitham himself before pushing that idea aside entirely. Alhaitham isn’t even an Amurta researcher though, pretty sure he is in Haravatat. As such, he confided in Lumine that his magic didn’t serve any use for him in terms of research and was more so a benefit in physical altercations. And I should just avoid the Love Interests for now unless I actually have to interact with them.

It doesn’t help that you don’t think Alhaitham would enjoy talking to you in the slightest anyway. And I forgot that he’s a total recluse, he never shows up to things if he can avoid it. You glance to your third field, recalling your need for fertilizer. 

Tighnari would be safe to ask then, I think. 

He wasn’t a Love Interest, nor was he someone who had been exposed to the deplorable reputation you were the proud owner of.

You stood up, dusting your dirt-covered gloves on your trousers. A trip scheduled to Pardis Dhyai was just the thing then.

next chapter; ? masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

[theshadowrealmitself]

I’m in a really shitty mood y’all, I know everyone’s reactions to the bacon scene was to pretend it didn’t happen and I’m actually upset about that, I think everyone should’ve been furious about it, there should’ve been huge amounts of outrage about it!! Did the showrunners even apologize for that? Or did everyone just move on??

Like I know everyone’s just quietly accepting it as an alternate universe, but the showrunners are still currently stating this as a direct prequel, so this Spock is supposed to be a direct prequel to Leonard Nimoy’s Spock, and I can’t think of a bigger slap to the face than this, like it’s still shitty as any version of Spock, but to specifically connect it to Nimoy’s Spock is just. evil.

I know you’re all accepting a level of bad from the show and just shrugging it off, but I don’t think that should’ve been shrugged off, and I don’t understand why everyone keeps watching the show when it doesn’t seem like they actually have any level of respect for TOS (despite insisting it’s a direct prequel)

I’m officially blacklisting Strange New Worlds and I refuse to acknowledge it’s existence from here on forward (and I hate that people won’t understand how serious this is because of the jokes of “all Star Trek fans hate the new shows”), I just needed to get this off my chest so I could move forward, I just hope everyone else continues to properly tag it here and on ao3 so that it can actually be avoided

[radioactive-earthshine]

do you have any like,,, silly little konbart headcanons? just like,,, little things they do ya know?

!!!

You have come to right place at just the right time.

Here are a few silly little hcs for Konbart that they do (non exhaustive).

1.) This one is recycled from another post. They play "extreme hide-and-seek" where they hide over a huge area and have to rely on their special skills to find each other. Bart cheats at this. Kon caught him cheating and shamed him on social media.

2.) They banter! A lot. It took Bart a little while to understand how to banter but once he did he and Kon rarely shut up, much to the annoyance of everyone.

3.) This isn't even really a hc it is comic supported but they love making up their own game rules with existing games ie "Random Trivia". They love finding new ways of playing games and throwing in new rules or sometimes even combining games together in ways that only make sense to them. Most of the time the changes are just to make each other laugh but sometimes it's to make the games harder.

4.) Bart just slips little goodies in Kon's pockets randomly through the day. Little candies (Batman's lollipops) or tiny figurines he found discarded in the street.

5.) At least once a week they have to pretend they are raptors and 'stalk' each other.

6.) They make memes of themselves and everyone they know and send them back and forth, it's a coping mechanism.

7.) They make up sound effects and words to describe the various sounds they hear. "Fizzlezop" "Byobop" "Deededede... dop!"

8.) Kon has absolutely just reached over and tapped Bart's tongue when he's "bleping" while thinking.

9.) Sometimes while they are on patrol they have impromptu games of tag.

10.) They riff on movies they just aren't getting into. Because they both missed out on years of formative development they have a lot of movies to catch up on and sometimes even a classic and well loved movie just doesn't really capture them so they riff and tear into it. Not so silly here but really they do make sure to spend at least one night every other week just watching films to fulfill a baseline.

11.) Needless to say hypothetical conversations and ridiculous debates (part of bantering) is very common between them like "Can you really slap a chicken fast enough to cook it?"

12.) They have really silly little competitions like "How many dogs can I get to like me" or "How many pictures of random orange cats can I take" in a day and the loser makes dinner or whatever it is they decide on.

13.) Kon likes to touch. He's a very tactile (hah) person and thus will always look for an excuse to touch, or be touched by Bart. It's a game they play sometimes where they "accidentally" bump into each other. Or "accidentally" sit on each other or "accidentally" hug. Cissie just wants them to hug without it being dramatic sometimes.

14.) They sometimes come up with wild fake childhood memories and present them to the rest of their friends. The one with the most believable AND outrageous story wins and it becomes part of their official lore. They both get weirdly competitive about this.

15.) They cast themselves and all of their friends in movies and shows and have ridiculous debates about it. Kon just doesn't believe he is a Hobbit but Bart is absolutely correct when he insists Kon is Samwise.

16.) Butterfly kisses. Silly sweet little butterfly kisses.

17.) Obnoxious victory hugs that take to the air and involve a lot of screaming.

18.) Sweet/Silly, they trace words and shapes on each others skin and they have to guess what it is. Sweet because it is intimate. Silly because they will choose the most random of things sometimes. Most of the time it is sensual and sweet but Bart has to throw in sometimes "noodle" and it derails the mood for a moment.

[notknickers]

synopsis: no one puts könig in the körner!

warnings/tags: sexual harrassment, könig is a creep, non-consensual public wanking, so many inaccuracies as to how the military or pmc's work (but accuracy is not why you're here, hm? 😏)

audiences: strictly adult

word count: 1473

a/n: this has been in the works a couple of days and i've only had time to finish it now. i like the idea of könig being so outraged as to lose any sense of decency and propriety. i also love the idea of könig handling his massive köck in general, while full of rancour or woe in specific.

tentakönig is shouting: "under 18 not allowed" and you are answering "yessir, yes!" and scampering away like you should, if you are not of age. don't make him angry by disregarding his words: what tentakönig lacks in size, he makes up for in spite.

colonel könig leant on his desk, a roll-up in his fingers, grey haze turning blue in the pale light filtering through the open window to refresh the office from the damp mustiness accumulated in the night, painting vorticose fractals in the early morning air.

he dragged slowly, end blazing vermilion as he sucked, smoke lingering around his bared face as he enjoyed the taste of toasted tobacco while it filled his chest.

in his free hand, colonel könig held a small bundle of papers. documents, memos and communiqués alike he was supposed to go through and sign off on, before he went to let out some steam in the gym, as he counted his days before a new mission would be assigned him.

he was getting restless, cooped up in his own office, reading useless sheets that contained no targets, no instructions, no interesting intel to evaluate and strategise around, before lunging head-first into action with a team he expected to personally hand-pick to fit the situation.

he knew that his rank would come with more perks and responsibilities, but less time on the field. what he did not expect was to see it so drastically reduced. only companion to his bitterness the sizzling paper that accompanied the last, long drag he took of his roll-up, before flicking it out the window.

tired of wasting time with boring pencil-pushing for which he was hardly made, yet resigned to no excitement for the day that just began, könig did not linger long in front of the window. he closed it swiftly, pulling blinders over it to preserve the privacy of his office, plasticky clacking still echoing at his back as he made for the door.

a clear knock landing on the wooden panel right when the colonel was about to turn the knob had könig halt in his step. he quickly pulled down his hood, fitting the ski-mask sewn underneath it back around his chin and neck to keep it in place, before abruptly opening the door.

the soldier he found before himself took a quick step back to avoid it slamming into him, a look of surprise on his face as he held an envelope in his hands. he quickly addressed his superior, snapping out of the initial shock from the near collision with the door to properly salute him with the straightest, stiffest stance könig had ever seen.

the colonel stared at the private in silence, waiting for him to announce the reason why he was bothering him, even when the correspondence in his grasp made it obvious. more bumph.

growing uncomfortable in silence, under the scrutinising and unsettling gaze of the beastly official, the recruit took the liberty to repeat his salute: «sir, colonel könig, sir!»

könig grunted lowly, almost a growl, before he spoke himself: «at ease.»

the soldier nodded once in a well-rehearsed, small movement: «i was instructed to give you this.»

«i already received today’s correspondence.»

«i understand, sir!», if the soldier were not well trained, he would be shuffling uncomfortably on his boots, nervously shifting posture to distract himself from yet another one of the colonel’s searing gazes, «a simple lapse, surely.»

könig regarded the soldier for a moment longer without saying anything more, leaving the private to hide his discomfort behind a polite smile as he held out his delivery, waiting for the colonel to accept it.

he held in a sigh of relief when the official finally accepted, tearing the ugly yellow envelope the austrian had come to associate with tedium, by now, from the recruit’s grip.

he turned and threw it on his desk, deciding on the spot he would not have his training delayed by more paperwork, not even hand-delivered paperwork: for good or ill, it would still be there, waiting for him on his bureau upon return.

yet, könig turned to find the soldier still on the threshold. the zeal in these new recruits!

«dismissed.»

but the other man did not move.

«uh, sir… i was instructed to wait for your reply. it’s… rather urgent, it seems.»

hope that this might not be yet another useless document didn’t have time to ignite in könig’s chest, as he skimmed through it. encomiums and flattery for his invaluable service in the field. blah blah. faux gratitude. blah blah. a new assignment: desk duty and the occasional devising of plans and strategies to operations he would not be allowed to take part in any more.

the bloody bastards! they really wanted to make him into a full-time bureaucrat! he'd rather get himself dishonourably discharged before he let it happen.

könig was incapable of seeing himself as such. he was not made for the safety of the base. he was too restless. too spirited. too… haunted to just give in now.

he never thought he would basically retire by mid-forties. in fairness, he never though he would make it alive to his mid-forties. still a couple of years left to prove himself right, but not if his superiors had it their way.

at the bottom of the document, a dotted line was there for his signature, to acknowledge his receipt – and acceptance – of the orders.

the colonel had no intention of signing it. he muttered angrily in his tongue, eyes narrowing to stone-grey slits as a pen hovered in his sight. the recruit offered it with a sir…?, as if he were doing him a favour, making it easier, painless.

so they sent a babysitter not just to make sure the colonel wouldn’t discard his post, but to witness his surrender. if they wanted könig to yield without a word, they should have sent someone capable of subduing him.

he roared in frustration, teeth grinding as he his fingers almost sank in the sheet, crumpling it where they held it.

he slapped the pen away from his face, catching the soldier unawares: «you’re here for the answer?»

the soldier cautiously nodded.

«so be it. here’s the answer.»

the private’s relief did not last, as his conviction that the delivery went better than planned was soon upended. he watched, frozen and incapable to tear his pupils away, while the colonel unbuckled his belt and undid the button and zip on his trousers.

next, he lowered them down to his hips, drawers caught alongside, as he began ferociously stroking his cock, intimidating even in his floppy state. which did not last long, either way. it was growing quickly in the pumping fist that choked it mercilessly in fast, staggering slides of the hand.

the private swallowed loudly: «sir…»

könig’s withering look, hand halting mid-motion around his fleshy shaft, cut him off: «came to witness? here!», the colonel growled angrily, lifting his mask only so much as he needed to bare his mouth.

ptooh!

he spat in his hand and returned it to his throbbing cock, every movement from then on accompanied by the slick, wet sound of every stroke, making it impossible for the recruit to ignore what was happening. even when he managed to surreptitiously turn his gaze to the ceiling, the colonel too busy frantically working his organ, the younger soldier could not avoid hearing the sound his hand made when it slid along the noteworthy length.

neither could he avoid hearing the colonel’s breathing growing faster, ragged, guttural, husky roars soon pushing out of his throat and crashing against the useless barrier of cotton of his hood, which barely muffled the uncomfortable sounds.

all that mask was good for at the moment, was soaking in könig’s spit.

finally, könig’s muscles tautened almost all at once, grip loosening only for his fingers to delicately wrap around his tip, where he could rhythmically pinch his foreskin back and forth along his fraenulum, cock jolting and spasming as it emptied thickly on the documents.

the private returned his eyes to his colonel at the pitter-patter of his juices staining the papers, incredulously watching him rub the head of his cock on them, spreading the gloopy mess he made all over the printed letters, trying to roughly clean himself.

könig inhaled deeply to steady himself, sighing out loudly to choke down a chuckle. the crying that often accompanied his release was absent, too wound in anger to allow the flow of tears to take away the tension with them.

könig did not bother tucking himself back in his clothes, yet. still panting, he shoved the documents back in the envelope, the dull yellow turning darker as it soaked in the colonel’s cum, the wet spots unmistakeable for anything other than what they were.

he threw it at the private’s feet, intent clear even without a verbal order and the younger soldier reluctantly picked it up, careful not to stain his fingers and wary not to further upset the high-ranking giant after what he just did.

«now, you are dismissed.»

[krindor]

So re your tags on the pope post...

Where's the menorah krindor?

So, starting at the very beginning.

70 CE: Titus sacks Jerusalem and loots the Second Temple. In his triumph (fancy war parade) he has the Menorah, as is recorded by Josephus Flavius in 71 CE and by the Arch of Titus' reliefs in 81 CE

The Menorah is displayed in the Tempulum Pacis in Rome, and 2nd century CE Rabbis claim to have seen it in Rome, as well as various other artifacts from the desroyed temple including the parochet and the choshen.

Now here's the thing. This is the last time historical texts mention the Menorah by name so everything below here needs to be taken with an increasing pile of salt

410 CE: The Visigoths sack Rome. Procipius of Ceasarea (500-560), a Byzantine Historian, writes that the Visigoths take "treasures of Solomon the King of the Hebrews." If this includes the Menorah, the trail goes cold. So that's it right? The Menorah got taken to a secondary location and was lost forever, right?

Wrong, because that's not the only time Procipius mentions Jewish Temple loot.

425 CE: The Vandals sack Rome again, to the point where the word vandalize comes from it. Procipius notes that their leader, Geiseric, takes "a huge amount of imperial treasure" with him to Carthage, which was at that time the Vandal capital.

Trust me this is relevant

534 CE: The Byzantine Emperor Justinian sacks Carthage, and they hold a triumph in Constantinople. Among the paraded items are "treasures of the Jews, which Titus, the son of Vespasian, together with certain others, had brought to Rome after the capture of Jerusalem”

That these "treasures of the Jews" include the Menorah is not a new theory, as is indicated in the 19th century painting Geiseric sacking Rome by Karl Bryullov

(Note the Menorah)

So it's in Istanbul right?

Wrong, because our boy Procipius isn't done yet: according to him, Justinian sent the "treasures of the Jews" to Christian sanctuaries in Jerusalem, since he heard that they were cursed that any city save Jerusalem that held them was doomed to be sacked.

This is the last time the "treasures of the Jews" are mentioned in historical texts.

So for our next step, lets look at major churches in Jerusalem in the 6th century, and officially enter the cork-board and string section of this rant post.

As well as the extant Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the Hagia Sion Basilica, and the Church of the Holy Apostles, Justinian built a church himself in the city, called the Nea, in 534 CE, just nine years after sacking Carthage. It would not be unreasonable that he'd send the Menorah to his own church, so we can theorize that it's in the Nea for the remainder of the 6th century (there are, of course, problems with relying on one historian's account of these things, but this is for fun, not a published article)

So that's it? It's in one of the churches of Jerusalem?

...

So in 614 CE Jerusalem gets sacked by the Sasanian/Persian Empire, who according to historical records destroy all the churches.

Now here's the thing. Recent archaeological evidence gives rise to the possibility that our Byzantine historical sources are trying to stir up outrage against the Sasanians: While mass graves dating to around 614 CE were found, the churches and Christian residential neighborhoods were barely, if at all, damaged, and the Nea itself was very possibly completely undamaged. This is, however, a recent theory, and the academics are still hashing it out.

So it may be in one of the churches of Jerusalem?

Tragically, even if the 614 siege didn't get the churches, in 1009 the Fatimid Caliph al-Hakim bi-Amr Allah destroyed all churches, synagogues, and many religious artifacts of both Christians and Jews in Jerusalem. So if by some miracle the Menorah had survived until this point, if it was in Jerusalem it was most likely destroyed.

But that's disappointing, and what's a good conspiracy theory without going a step or two beyond what is reasonable?

Apparently, while the churches, synagogues and most of the artifacts were destroyed, at least in the case of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, objects that could be carried away were looted, rather than destroyed. And if we know anything about the Menorah at this point, that thing is certainly able to be carried away by people.

If the Menorah was looted rather than destroyed, it's not unreasonable that it would have made it's way to the Fatimid capital of Cairo. However, as the historical record dried up some 500 years beforehand, beyond this point it's unreasonable to attempt to track the Menorah.

So that's it. If the Menorah wasn't destroyed it most likely made its way to Egypt and was lost or destroyed there.

Is what I'd say if I wasn't so far down this rabbit hole I was beyond reason. Because as we all know there's one place that has all the significant treasures of Cairo and a penchant for looting:

The British Museum

[jorvikzelda]

Okay so. Bridle leaks. I can’t add a tag because I’m on mobile but

⚠️SPOILERS! LEAKS! (THE INFORMATION IS TECHNICALLY IN GAME BECAUSE IT’S ON THE BRIDLES BUT NONETHELESS THIS IS YOUR OFFICIAL WARNING)⚠️

so FIRST OF ALL the winter magic horses are apparently a Paso Fino and an Icelandic Horse(!!!!!!), unless they’ve started naming horses deceptively on purpose. Hopefully this also means that everything will be retrofitted to the Icelandics, like how they retrofitted everything to the APH prior to Laverna’s release..?

SECOND, Tennessee Walking Horses? Look. Look I know this isn’t an inherently abusive discipline. SSE knows this isn’t an inherently abusive discipline. Do their hundreds of thousands of young followers on Instagram, or SSO YouTubers who love to yell about anything and everything without checking sources for that matter, know that this isn’t an inherently abusive discipline? Absolutely not. There is going to be outrage about this and I dread it.

Also it’s so weird that there’s two entire unreleased horses leaked through bridles? We cannot possibly be getting two more this year—there’s only three updates between Halloween and Winter, and one of them is going to be a main quest. They’re REALLY ahead of time here for whatever reason and it intrigues me greatly.

[this-is-ally-and-im-confused]

Anger looks good on you|| C.Makar

Summary: how does the normally gentle, soft, teddy bear of a man react to his partner getting rude comments and criticism?

Random tags: @quietblues (who gave me the idea), @snugglyducklingbrewhouse @fandomgal03 @pulpfixion @cartahhart79

Warnings: mentions of bullying, sadness, and angry!Cale

*16 insta notifications*

“No phones at dinner, baby.” Cale said with a joking-tone to his voice.

His smile was warm as it washed over you. His eyes swirled over your face as his hand came over to clasp over yours. His grip urged you to turn the phone back over and stay here in the moment with him.

“Uh yea–sorry.”

Instantly, your fiancé’s eyes filled with concern. You were never this quiet at dinner, or this closed off. Yet, dealing with all of the world has been dragging you down. Of course, you couldn’t let Cale know any of it. He works too hard to have to listen about your worries, insecurities, and fears. He can’t know about the stupid comments, tweets, and DM’s that have taken every bit of confidence you had.

“Where’d you go just then, sweetheart?” Cale asked softly. It seemed to him that daily you’d spend more time in your head then any place else.

“Just thinkin’ “

“About?”

“Stupid things.” You responded.

With that, you silently crept away from the table to clear your plate. You weren’t even thinking about the fact that you had left your phone on the table. Or the fact that both you and Cale knew each others passwords. You weren’t thinking about it at all. That was–until Cale came and wrapped his arms around your waist to gently pull you from the dishes in front of you.

“None of it’s true, those people are lying to you.”

“It doesn't make it hurt less.” you murmured as you flipped to place your head against his chest.

His fingers locked into your hair, softly pulling your head up into the warmth of his neck. It was a lot for both of you to take in. He wanted to protect you from the hate, and you just wanted to run from it. He had just now seen the hundreds of hateful words spewed at the person he loves the most. Comments about looks, personality, and outrageous accusations. How could strangers even begin to think they knew you? The longest interview you had ever done was less than 30 seconds, and it was just you saying how proud you were of Cale. Instantly, you were attacked for seeming “fake.”

“They think I'm only into you for the money.”

“I know that's not true, natemac makes twice as much as me and is painfully single.” Cale tried to joke.

“Hmpf, they called me a puckbunny.”

“My puckbunny.”

Cale was trying to hide behind humor so that you didn't see how scared he was of his fans pushing you away. You are his everything. He wants to marry you. And a couple stupid people shouldn't have control over who he loves.

“I can try and fix it, but it might hurt a little more for awhile.”

“Anything. Just make it stop.”

calemakar_

Liked by 43kadri and others

@yourusername, words cannot describe how grateful I am to have you in my life. I know lately we’ve had fans try to come in between us but take this as my official statement of “never gonna fuckin’ happen”. For those of you trying to get under my gorgeous girl’s skin–stop. You are wasting your breath.

---------------

@landeskog.92 All hail cale🥬, stop being mean to y/n! She's a sweetheart.

@yourusername awww hun♥️ -> @calemakar_ anything for u 😘

@mackinnon29 rooting for you guys!! #veggiewedding?

[btsqualityy]

Blood On The Dance Floor: Chapter 7

Hoseok x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, established relationship, thriller, fatal attraction!AU (kind of, but with major changes), smut, angst, and fluff.

Summary: Hobi travels to Japan for work, Bora pops up again, and the drama starts.

Warnings: stalker behavior. 

WC: 1.9K

Four months later, life had continued on as normal. Hobi was still doing an amazing job working at HYBE and you were excelling in your classes at law school. Though the two of you were insanely busy these days, you both made it work and you were still extremely happy. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me for two weeks,” you pouted as you and Hobi moved around each other in your bedroom, working on packing his suitcase.

“I’m only going to Japan for Star Turn’s showcases and their official Japanese debut,” Hobi replied as he threw a few shirts on top of his suitcase. “I’ll be back as soon as you start to miss me.”

“Impossible because I’m already missing you and you don’t even leave until tomorrow morning,” you smiled, taking the shirts that he had thrown and properly folding them before packing them correctly. 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I won’t even have time to miss you,” he joked, yelping when you threw the shirt that you had in your hands at his face. “That was a joke.”

“A fucking terrible one,” you rolled your eyes playfully. Hobi paced over to you then, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you against him. 

“You know that I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered into your ear. “I don’t think we’ve ever been apart for that long.”

“We haven’t, not since we’ve been married,” you told him. 

“At least you’ll have your final exams to keep you occupied,” he pointed out. 

“Oh yeah, that’s a high point,” you chuckled. “I’m so nervous for them. I mean, I’ve been doing good so far but what if I just blank during the test?”

“Hey, that won’t happen,” Hobi assured you. “You know just as much as any practicing lawyer out there and you haven’t even taken your bar exam yet.”

“You’re right, I do,” you smirked as you turned around in his arms to look at him, making Hobi laugh loudly at your sudden confidence. 

“I am going to go to Japan and work hard with the group while you stay and ace all of your exams and once I’m back, we’ll celebrate with a staycation somewhere,” he announced. “What do you think?”

“Hell yeah,” you grinned widely. “I’d love that.”

“Good,” he smiled and when you went to move away from him to finish packing his suitcase, he grabbed your arm and pulled you right back into him. 

“What?” You asked. 

“I’m gonna miss you too,” he said and you cooed fondly, leaning forward and kissing him firmly. 

“Alright, back to it,” you announced once you pulled away from his lips. “We’ve gotta figure out a way for you to pack your whole wardrobe for a two week trip.”

“Hey!” Hobi exclaimed in mock outrage while you cackled loudly.

..........................................................

“Alright guys, good practice!” Hobi grinned as he applauded the members of Star Turn from his place in front of the stage. Once he arrived in Japan, he immediately went to work, spending the entirety of the first week helping the members brush up on the choreography for their Japanese single as well as creating choreography for some of their B-sides.

“We can call it quits for the day! Please get some rest and we’ll be back at it tomorrow morning!” He announced and the members cheered before beginnging to gather their things and file off the stage. 

“Hey, you wanna go get a drink?” Jimin asked from his place standing next to Hobi. He had tagged along on the trip, choosing to act as Hobi’s assistant choreographer since Bora had randomly up and quit. 

“Fuck yeah,” Hobi agreed easily. “You wanna go back to the hotel?”

“Nah, there’s too many paparazzi snooping around because of Star Turn,” Jimin scoffed. “I know this great bar that’s lowkey.”

“Send me the location and I’ll meet you there once I finish up here,” Hobi nodded. 

An hour later, Hobi was sat next to Jimin at L’Escamoteur, a popular in bar in Shimogyo-ku. 

“So, how did you know about this place?” Hobi wondered. 

“I spent a semester here when I was in college,” Jimin revealed. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m so fluent in Japanese,” he chuckled. “It was a long three months.”

“You got around too, didn’t you?”

“Well, you know,” Jimin shrugged with a bashful smile on his face. “What about you, though?”

“What about me?”

“Did you get around before you met Y/N-ah? Or after?” Jimin asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Before I met her, most definitely,” Hobi laughed. “But after we met, it was like no one else in the world existed to me. It’s almost as if I had tunnel vision and all I could see was her.”

“Ugh, see? That’s what I want,” Jimin lamented. “I refuse to give up my whoring ways until I meet someone that makes me feel like that.”

“You’ll get there eventually, Jimin-ah,” Hobi cooed, reaching over and patting his friend’s hand. Just then, the bartender walked back over to them. 

“Would either of you like another drink?” He asked and Hobi shook his head while Jimin nodded his.

“I’m not even finished with this on yet, and two’s my limit anyways,” Hobi told the bartender before glancing at Jimin. “And it should be yours too.”

“My bounce back game is incredible, I’ll be fine,” Jimin waved him off. “Another bottle of Sake, please.”

“Coming right up,” the bartender nodded before stepping away from them.

“I don’t need you hungover tomorrow,” Hobi chuckled. “You leaving me hanging is the last thing I need.”

“Oh please, I’m not Bora,” Jimin huffed with a smile. “I still can’t believe that she did that.”

“What?”

“Just up and quit like that,” he elaborated. “I mean, she worked there for over a year and then she just up and leaves? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, haven’t you talked to her? I know you two were friendly,” Hobi said. 

“Tried to call her but her phone was disconnected,” Jimin replied. “I just hope she’s ok, you know?”

“Yeah,” Hobi murmured as the bartender came back over with Jimin’s sake.

“Sir, your wife is at the entrance looking for you,” he told Hobi.

“My wife?” Hobi echoed in disbelief.

“Y/N-ah was coming too?” Jimin asked and Hobi shook his head as he got up from the stool that he had been sitting on. 

“No, she has exams this week,” he frowned. “I’ll be right back, ok?” 

“Take your time,” Jimin nodded and Hobi walked through the lounge to the front door where the hostess stand sat. When he looked around, he didn’t see you but he felt arms wrap around him from behind. 

“Hi baby,” the woman whispered and Hobi instantly recognized the voice, pulling her arms from around him and stepping away from her. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Bora?”

“I came to join you on the trip,” Bora giggled happily. 

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Hobi snapped. “How did you know that I was here?”

“Star Turn’s schedule is public and I knew you’d be coming with them in order to make sure that they’re ready for their Japanese debut,” she explained. “Plus, I like to keep tabs on the people I love.”

“Love?” Hobi echoed with a scoff. 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Plus, I couldn’t turn down your invitation.”

“What invitation? How would I invite you when I haven’t seen you in four months and haven’t spoken to you in just as long?”

“Oh yeah, I apologize for that, by the way,” she pouted falsely. “It sucks that our only time seeing each other was in that club and I didn’t make it any better by kissing another man. I know how it feels to watch the one you love kiss someone else but I didn’t know how else to get your attention. I hope the little photos I sent you made up for that.”

“You really believe that I gave a fuck about you and that guy? Or those fucking weird ass photos?” Hobi laughed in disbelief. “I don’t fucking want you, Bora.”

“You don’t have to pretend right now Hobi, there’s no one around,” she smiled. 

“You know, I don’t know what else I have to say in order for you to get this through your fucking head but I do not want you, Bora,” Hobi stated firmly.

“Hobi, I know what it’s like to be in a relationship that you don’t want to be in,” Bora began. “But if you just let me-”

“Come here,” Hobi spat, grabbing onto her arm at the elbow and dragging her over to a secluded corner. She yelped in pain, smacking at his hand that was holding onto her until he pushed her up against the wall and caged her in with his body.

“Listen to me and listen good,” Hobi said darkly, pushing his finger into her face. “You are a fucking lunatic who has randomly come up with this delusion that I have any type of romantic feelings towards you.”

“If you want me to help you, you shouldn’t call me mean names Hoseok,” Bora frowned. 

“I don’t need your fucking help,” he snapped. “If you come near me again or contact me in any way, shape or form, I’m going to the police.”

“No need for idle threats.”

“Try me if you want to,” Hobi fumed before stepping away from her and walking back into the lounge area. A few seconds later, Jimin came waddling back to the bar just as Hobi was taking his seat again.

“Hey, where’s Y/N-ah?” Jimin asked.

“It wasn’t her,” Hobi shook his head. “It was a name mix up.”

“Ah ok,” Jimin nodded. 

“Let’s close out our tab and head back to the hotel,” Hobi suggested. “It’s getting late.”

“Oh alright, buzzkill,” Jimin muttered. After calling the bartender back over to them, they paid their bills and Hobi grabbed his drink, throwing the last of the umber liquid back before he and Jimin made their way to the front door. 

“You ok to drive?” Jimin questioned and Hobi nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I only had two drinks and the hotel is only 10 minutes away,” he replied. “You?”

“Oh, I took a car service here because I’m gonna go meet up with this girl from my university days now that we’re done having our drink,” Jimin smirked knowingly. 

“Be careful,” Hobi laughed as a car pulled up. “See you in the morning, 8am!”

“Yes Sir,” Jimin saluted before opening the door to the car and getting inside. Once the car pulled away, Hobi walked half a block down before he got to the car that he rented and climbed inside. Once he started the engine, he slowly pulled away from the curb before merging into traffic. 

The first five minutes of the drive were completely normal. It wasn’t until Hobi entered the start of a winding road that he began to feel numbness in his hands. It started as a slight tingle in his fingers before spreading to his palm, up his wrists and even up the entire length of his arms. 

“What the hell?” Hobi muttered, taking turns removing one of his hands off the wheel and shaking them hard in an effort to try and get the feeling back into his limbs. However, that didn’t happen and it wasn’t long until he felt his legs beginning to go numb as well. 

Before he could even question that though, his entire body suddenly went stiff and the next thing he knew, his car was careening off the road. That was the last thing that he remembered before he lost consciousness.

[daffodi1]

I've been in and out of the VnC tag in the past couple of days after doing a reread of the series (and finally watching the anime) and one thing I keep seeing is people asking if the whole thing between Vanitas and Noe is "queerbaiting". I can kinda understand why some people might think that, but here's my personal take on why Mochijun had no such intention (TL;DR I AM TIRED OF PEOPLE BEING MEAN ABOUT THIS SERIES AND I AM TIRED OF THE ONES DEFENDING IT BY SAYING THEY'RE NOT GAY. COME AND FIGHT ME.)

So, a lot of these opinions are going to come from some of my understandings about Japanese fandoms and the way their genres work. In order to explain this, I'm going to need to talk about another piece of media I like, an indie game called "Witch's Heart". I PROMISE I will get to why this has to do with VnC and the idea of queerbaiting.

Awhile ago, the dev of Witch's Heart came under fire for saying that any non-canon ships should not be put in the main tag, especially gay ones because "Witch's Heart is not a game about gay people" (please keep in mind that the dev could not speak English very well before you get your panties in a wad about the poor wording. They've already stated they have nothing wrong with gay ships or LGBT headcanons). A lot of people were outraged, especially since the American fandom for this game is heavily LGBT. But the thing is; the dev themself has been seen liking gay ships and art of their characters as trans, so many argued that there's no way this person hates to see those things *period*, they just didn't want them in the main tag for some reason.

That's when the Japanese members of the fandom came forward to explain; and here is what I learned. Japanese fandom tends to focus a lot on the idea of "fantasy", that being the idea that anyone can interpret any relationship as being romantic or platonic according to their wishes. That's why a lot of relationships when written tend to teeter on that line of romance and friendship, and why a lot of characters may seem subtly LGBT coded. It was stated that the reason headcanons and non-canon ships did not belong in the canon tag is because in Japanese fandom, the canon tag is strictly to give people an idea of what the story is about, whereas the non-official tag is for any headcanons and ships that aren't canon-compliant. Posting something unofficial in the canon tag is thus seen as selfishly declaring your ships and headcanons to be canon, prioritizing YOUR fantasy above anyone else's. That's why a lot of people took issue with it and saw it as rude.

It was also stated that LGBT things, especially M/M and F/F relationships, tend to be shoved aside into their own "genres" regardless of what the story is actually about. For example, sometimes I even see "No. 6", which has a very heavy plot outside of the romance, sometimes tossed to the side and categorized as "BL" (which grinds my gears for many reasons. And if you're asking "what's no. 6"-- go watch it). Thus when they said "this is not a story about gay people", they were referring to those genres.

You may be asking "okay cool but what does this have to do with VnC--" hold on hold on I am GETTING THERE.

So what I am saying about VnC is this: A lot of Mochijun's stories tend to have very homoerotic themes and relationships in them, but nothing that seems explicit. I personally believe that this is because she wants to create that "fantasy" I mentioned earlier without her stories being shoved aside and being considered "Just BL" stories. I think that doing this and allowing LGBT people to fantasize about seeing themselves in these characters they love might be the best she can do without her stories simply being tossed aside, and I don't think that what she's doing specifically counts as "queerbaiting". Several of her characters and their interactions are queer coded: Domi and her gnc manner of dressing and flirtations with women, Jeanne's way of acting around Domi, the way Roland acts around Vanitas and Noe (and how Noe blushes in response), the way Jean-Jacques and Noe's interactions happened when they could have easily put those interactions between him and Chloe instead, and of course; whatever the hell Vanitas and Noe have going on. I will never believe that she did this all just because she hates gay people and wants their money. I believe she did this out of love for her LGBT audience and a desire to give them characters they could relate to even if it can't be entirely explicit. And many people may be frustrated that it never will be as explicit as they want it to be-- and hey! You know what? Your frustration is valid! But I don't think Mochijun is the one to be angry with-- I think we should be more angry with censorship and those who shove stories with LGBT characters to the side in the first place and act like those stories don't matter outside of the relationships.

People may be thinking "did you write this just to yell at the queer fandom" and actually, I did not. I wrote this bc all of the discourse I saw defending this show was saying that Vanitas and Noe were "just friends" and that their interactions were not at all queer coded. Don't get me wrong: if you wanna see them as just besties, that's fine but to deny that any homoerotic subtext is there is being willfully ignorant at best. I won't tell you why because there are literally a million other essays you could read on the matter by fans that are more mentally ill about dedicated to the matter than me, and this has gone on too long anyway. But I couldn't stand the idea that the only two options were demonizing Mochijun or turning a blind eye to queer interpretations. There HAS to be a middle ground, people.