#it's just being given the critical information to make a choice.

[tired-fandom-ndn]

If it isn't obvious, I've been rewatching Elementary off and on as a break between audiobooks. Something that really interests me is that when Joan first starts working as a detective officially, she gets "interventions" from multiple people in her life (her friends, her therapist, Gregson, etc) who nearly always claim that Sherlock is unaware or apathetic to the danger his work poses to Joan.

All of these conversations happen under the guise of protecting Joan, making her aware of the danger of being a detective (and of being close to Sherlock) so that she can escape. Every single one of those people assumes that Joan is naive and needs to be protected in the first place, particularly from Sherlock's supposed carelessness.

Sherlock, on the other hand, is the one who regularly reminds Joan of the dangers AND gives her ways to defend and protect herself. He strongly encourages her to learn self-defense and, while his methods are. . . not great, he does a lot to improve her reflexes and her ability to recognize and handle dangerous situations. Instead of treating her like a child who isn't aware of the danger, he treats her like an adult who is making informed decisions and should be given resources to handle the consequences.

I don't know where I'm going with this, I'm just very fascinated not just by how Joan is infantalized by people who genuinely mean well but also how much her relationship with Sherlock is mischaracterized even by people who know them and their dynamic. While nearly everyone else in her life is trying to help her "escape" from a situation she chose and is happy in, Sherlock is the one actually giving her the tools and support needed to handle whatever comes.

(Also something about how the very first person other than Sherlock who not only recognizes how much Joan enjoys detective work but actively encourages her to change careers is her mom, who is seemingly critical and judgemental but sees Joan as an intelligent and capable adult who can make her own choices. Hmm. There's something there.)

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: Wally hadn't been able to make sense of what you'd said. How had it been possible that he and the others had been trapped for so long without knowing it? With that truth out for him to examine, Wally hadn't been sure he'd wanted to look any closer. He'd felt violated. Betrayed. Lost. What other lies had he been unwittingly a part of?

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.14

The world fell away as your words penetrated. Wally stilled, didn't breathe, didn't blink, didn't make a sound. As if he could delay the impact of that truth if he shut down critical functions.

Weakly, "What do you...mean?" Wally croaked, but something deep within himself had always known.

Known it like common sense; the feeling like looking at a green sky and knowing it was supposed to be blue. Like being sick since birth yet knowing that that wasn't what healthy felt like. He'd known and yet never questioned it because he and the others had had no way to be sure their situation was terribly, tragically wrong.

In the earliest days succeeding his untimely demise, Wally had tried to leave the school.

Not to follow his mother home after she'd donated his trophies, helmet, and jacket to display in the stadium entrance. Not to join his friends in Rodney's basement to get stoned after his memorial service. Not to break his own heart by stalking Jenny to the motel where she and her second choice prom date, Gary fucking Reid, lost their virginities together.

Rather, to go for a walk for the sake of getting some air. Despite having been flung back to the field multiple times by then—a lesson that had drilled into him the habit of remaining perpetually vigilant of his surroundings—Wally had had this intrinsic understanding that he could roam beyond what the barrier permitted.

So much so that, one evening, he hadn't kept track of where he'd been going (partly because he'd trusted himself to veer away from the perimeter, but mostly because he'd been relaxed. Not actively chasing down a loved one). It'd been an unconscious series of actions; one foot in front of the other, listening to Eddie Money's Can't Hold Back on a Lost & Found walkman, strolling into the thin smattering of trees on the edge of the grounds, and then wham—

Back to Start.

It had happened a few times after that, too. Rhonda would cackle around her lollipop du jour, roll her eyes, and tell him to, "Get smart, Jockstrap."

When Charley had come along, he'd experienced the same thing. And then Ajay and Katelynn. Learning the lesson after the lesson had been learned. Mr. Martin had calmly and wisely informed them that it was merely the result of not having internalized being dead yet.

But that hadn't sat right with Wally, similar to having been given the excuse of roughhousing when he'd caught his parents in a compromising position one innocuous summer-break afternoon before he'd aged into double digits.

"Babe..." Wally croaked, just above a whisper, the weight of what you'd unveiled slamming into his chest and leaving him winded, "What are you saying?"

Your eyes, marbled and bright—though not outright glowing like they had in the theater—stared right into him for a moment. You were obviously calculating what it meant that Wally couldn't leave the high school, all the hows and whys flittering like dust motes between you and him.

"Unless you're a residual haunter, like Mina or Yuri, you should be able to go wherever you want. How long have you been stuck?"

Wally's throat clicked when he swallowed, "Since I died."

You pressed your forehead to his, hands slotting under his jaw, and, voice laced with grief, said, "That's not possible."

"I mean, maybe it is?" Wally tried to reason, slumping back in his seat and staring at the 5-yard line as he stitched together his own theories based on what he'd learned as an actual dead person. "It's not like ghosts wrote those books you read. Maybe whoever wrote them got it wrong."

Shaking your head, "Actually, they did. Not the physical copies, obviously, but those authors collaborated with ghosts to write those books."

Wally didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know if he could answer a lot of things anymore. Did he even know what it meant to be dead?

You seemed willing wait him out as he turned everything over in his head, one hand on his shoulder, the other lifting the one he'd had on your calf so you could string his arm through your legs and cradle his hand on your belly, your thumb rubbing soothing patterns between the bones.

"What does it mean?" He asked, distant.

Wally could feel himself slipping away, the revelation frosting him from the inside and making him numb. He'd had a similar experience when he'd been fourteen and had broken his collarbone. The pain so intense that his brain had immediately severed its connection to the feeling.

Shock.

"It means that something doesn't want you to leave." You answered once he'd returned his eyes to yours. Your features creased, "Or someone."

Wally felt that statement like a nail through the chest. "How?"

You stared at him helplessly, caressing his cheek and then tilting forward to press your foreheads together again. The action worked to ground Wally, reeled him back from the edge of an existential crisis he wasn't ready to have.

Regretfully, "I don't know, Wally. But we'll figure it out, okay?"

He nodded against you. Closed his eyes and absorbed the warmth of your nearness, the solidity of your touch. Allowed those things to calm him.

"At least we can rule out Mr. A having anything to do with that, right?" Wally snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood.

You pulled back, smiled gently, and nodded, "Right. But he could've used it to his advantage. With her soul stuck here, Maddie wouldn't be able to get back into her body and then go to the police. It also means that he could've safely stashed her body anywhere, so long as he has access to life support."

"You think he dropped her at the hospital?"

"Not here." You said, "Split River isn't big enough to pull that off. He could've driven her to another state? Dropped her off at a big city hospital as a Jane Doe?"

Wally grimaced, shaking his head at the depravity, "That's messed up."

"God, her body could be in Detroit for all we know and it wouldn't get back here until someone in the hospital there made the connection. Unless Sheriff Baxter decides to widen the search."

"Couldn't you ask him? It's like you said, Xavier's your brother from another mother. Wouldn't the sheriff listen to you?"

You didn't seem convinced, reciting in a satire of an upbeat tone, "Hey Sheriff, I think my teacher knocked Maddie out of her body and took it to another state all so she wouldn't tell you about the money he's hiding in his classroom. We should totally look into that."

Wally responded in a responsible manner, "That sounds like an awful idea, let's not do that."

Curling against the back of your seat, voice slightly strangled, you uttered, "So, Maddie's stuck in an In Between 'til I can find her body and bring it back to her."

Wally sensed the granite mass of the pressure you were already putting on yourself. Choosing to steer you out from under it, he diverted the conversation, "Still haven't told me what an In Between is, by the way."

It did the trick, at least for the time being. Your lips quirked up at the corners and the wrinkle between your brows vanished as you informed him, "It's exactly what it sounds like. A plain between plains."

"Yeah, pretty thing, you're going to have to dumb it down more." Wally said, willing to sacrifice his dignity for the sake of making you smile.

Grinning, you set the stage, "Think of plains like different worlds. I'm in the living world, you're in the dead world, right?"

"Got it."

"Now, pretend there are doorways into those worlds. In Betweens are the spaces between the doors." You nibbled your bottom lip and Wally's attention immediately slipped, the urge to lick into your mouth making him twitch. Sweetly unaware, you back-tracked and tried a different avenue, "Not doors...maybe glass walls?"

"The door thing made sense. I mean, I think I get it. In Betweens are those places that anyone can access, whereas the living world is just for the living and the dead world is just for the dead. Am I close?"

"Yeah, you got it." You praised and Wally had to stifle the desire to puff out his chest and preen. "Well, not anyone can access In Betweens, but if your soul can Travel, that's where you go."

"So, when you project, you're in an In Between." Wally stated, though he was hedging for clarification.

"Exactly."

"And you said Maddie's stuck in an In Between, too, right?"

Wally saw the moment you clocked where he was going with that train of thought.

With a lamenting sigh, you said, "Unfortunately, In Betweens are complex. They're unique to all kinds of things like bloodlines and soul-ties—" Wally opened his mouth to ask, but you got there first, "—incredibly deep bonds you make in life with another person." He closed his mouth and listened as you elaborated. "So, me and my great-aunt enter the same In Between and can see each other. But Maddie..."

"Isn't blood?"

"And she and I weren't close enough to form the type of bond you'd need to Travel the same In Between. Either she'd have had to invite me into hers or I'd have had to invite her into mine. It's extremely intimate. Not something you do with someone you only hang out with in a group." You perked up and finally gave Wally a full, supernova smile. "I actually wrote you some notes."

The implication conjured an image of you scribbling notes for him under light cast from a laptop screen, kicking your feet as you lay on your bed like a schoolgirl. All so that he could understand the twisty, twiddly secrets of the universe...

He swooned, barely holding back a wistful exhale.

And then his brain ticked back a few frames to you on an unmade bed. The collar of the oversized t-shirt Wally hoped you owned bearing one shoulder, and the smooth skin of your legs on display.

He couldn't care less about the state of his deadness now, and what it meant that he couldn't leave the school grounds. Instead, he let a slow, devilish smirk slant across his mouth, emboldened by hormones and how receptive you were as he leaned into your space.

He slid his hand from yours and placed it on your thigh, "Gonna let me copy your homework, baby?"

"Gotta get those grades up before the big game." You played along, "Don't want you kicked off the team."

Without hesitation, Wally struck, halfway out of his seat, hand gripping the armrest behind you to hold himself up. He loomed over you, little thing that you were, squished into your seat and completely caged in by him. He hovered, heard your breath hitch, and watched your gaze go hazy.

"Lucky to have a girl like you on my side, then, huh?" Wally said, voice rough, tightly controlled, closing the distance between your lips in increments.

You reached up, wrapped your arms around his neck, "Damn right, big shot," and dipped in.

A throat cleared somewhere over Wally's shoulder, from behind and moderately above, and drove him back into his seat at Mach speed, his hold on you resituating to a socially acceptable place on your ankle. The interruption was accompanied by that arcing of gravity that emitted from a living body which meant Wally was once more on the outside looking in.

"Okay there, hot shot, time to get moving. Students aren't s'posed to be up here outside'a game time." The maintenance worker said, illicit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

Wally noticed the man wasn't quite looking at you, and, for the first time, he had to wonder what the hell people saw when you and he were together while you were still in your body.

You pulled yourself up as fast as the angle allowed you to without injury, foot still tucked in Wally's lap. As soon as your head peeked above the back of your seat, the maintenance worker clutched a hand to his heart and plucked the cigarette from his lips.

"Jesus, girl, you can't do that to folks." He scolded you, southern accent thickening, "Lookin' like a zombie comin' out the grave or what."

"Sorry," You said and sounded as puzzled as Wally was by the man's overreaction.

"Just hurry up and get goin'." His eyes swept in a strange pattern, away from you then back then away, fixing on a point that would have been Wally's nose if he weren't invisible. "You kids these days thinking you can be wherever you wanna be, huh? Ignoring the rules, like they don't apply to you..."

God, this guy. "Can it, asshole. Give her a minute to get up." Wally snapped, bolstered by the fact that the man couldn't hear him. "Bet you're bent outta shape because all that nicotine makes your dick about as useful as a wet napkin."

He heard you choke on a laugh that you quickly masked under a cough.

The man squinted, lips pursed in aggravation. Surprisingly, he departed with no more than a gruff, "Get gone!" and stuck his half-burned cigarette back into his mouth.

Wally glared after him as the man marched up the stairs toward a ladder open beneath a curtain of cables and metal that spilled from the ceiling. Clearly, the man had been in the middle of fixing something when he'd seen you.

"Fucker." Wally grumbled. He patted your leg, pressed a kiss to your knee before he released you.

"I appreciated the support," You giggled, "Even if it doesn't do much on my side of things, it's nice to know you have my back."

"I've always got you, baby." Wally vowed as he unfolded himself and rose to his feet. He couldn't help tacking on, "Every bit of you," with a wink that made you pink up so prettily.

You wetted your lips, ducked your face into your shoulder; shy after you'd been caught in what might’ve been a very awkward position. "I'm starting to get that."

Wally let you take the lead, enjoyed how you brushed up against him as you shuffled out of the row and onto the stairs. He shot the man one last angry look as he grabbed his jacket and then turned to trail you across the field and out of the stadium.

At the top of the grandstand, feet from the ladder, the man examined his cigarette through a profoundly glum expression.

With a grunt, he dropped it to the ground and crushed it under the thick sole of his work boot, simultaneously pulling the crumpled, two-from-empty pack out of his breast pocket and whipping it into a nearby trashcan.

💀___________________________

PART THIRTEEN - PART FIFTEEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[carriesthewind]

Yeah so anyway, I'm making my response to this fucking garbage its own separate post in case people want to reblog it without having to reblog a scare-mongering lie.

This video pisses me the fuck off whenever I see it, and today I'm not in the mood to just scroll past.

Wow! Am I being lead to panic by scaremongering algorithm fodder completely unsupported by real evidence?! test:

The reason you think something exists is just what you're being told by a nefarious *them*, there is actually a conspiracy behind it!

I, an ordinary person with no expertise who critically examines the world around me, have uncovered this conspiracy.

"That's what they're telling you." (put the emphasis wherever appropriate for the conspiracy of your choice - in this case, it's on *telling*)

This new tech thing is actually a bad idea and the old school method was better - which clearly proves there must be a secret conspiracy, because why allow the possibility of incompetence and investor tech-hype when you can instead assume a highly-competent evil conspiracy?

I will now tell you my conspiracy theory while scrolling rapidly through a document without pausing or allowing you to actually read any of it. This allows me to look like I have proven my claims while doing nothing of the sort. Because do you really think someone could do that? Quickly flash a document on screen and just lie about what it says?

But Owl! This is real! A user upthread found the patent and it *does* prove it!

Yeah. I read the linked patent. Did you?

Let's quote the "real purpose" hidden in the patent, as claimed out in the video:

"The real purpose of these screens is to use the little camera at the top right here to scan your face and use AI facial expression analysis to judge whether or not you like the packaging designs of the product you're looking for."

This is complete made up horseshit.

First, let's look where the reblogger directs us, to column #4 on page 17:

"Preferably, each retail product container further comprises customer-detecting hardware, such as one or more proximity sensors (such as heat maps) , cameras, facial sensors or scanners, and eye-sensors (i.e., iris-tracking sensors). Assuming cameras are employed, preferably cameras are mounted on doors of the retail product containers. Preferably, the cameras have a depth of field of view of twenty feet or more, and have a range of field of view of 170 degrees with preferably 150 degree of facial recognition ability. Preferably, software is employed in association with the cameras to monitor shopper interactions, serve up relevant advertisement content on the displays, and track advertisement engagement in - store." (emphasis added and references to figures removed for readability)

That is the extent of the "nonconsensual data collection."

Now, to be fair, there is some stuff on page 18 and 19 which kinda-sorta-maybe has at least some relation to the claim in the video:

"Preferably, the controller/data collector is configured such that as a shopper stands or lingers in front of a given retail product container, the display associated with the retail product container changes yet again. At this point, preferably the controller/data collector has been able to use the customer-detecting hardware to effectively learn more about that particular customer, such as gender, age, mood, etc. The controller / data collector is configured to take what has been detected about the customer to determine which advertisement and other information to present to that particular customer on the display associated with the retail product container in front of which the customer is standing. By tracking shopper data in parallel with which advertising content is being served on all displays within the viewing range of the shopper, the retailer and the brands are better served, providing new analytics. As such, the system provides advertising, influence opportunities at the moment of purchasing decision, optimizing marketing spend and generating new revenue streams....

"Additionally, preferably all inputs collected by the IOT devices will be analyzed locally as well as remotely (via cloud) to provide the feedback inputs for the system to push more relevant/targeted content, tailored for the consumer. The analytics are preferably conducted anonymously, images captured by cameras are preferably processed to collect statistics on consumer demographic characteristics: (such as age and gender). This data is preferably subsequently analyzed for additional statistics for the retailers that are valuable for in-store merchandise layout design and smart merchandizing, including the ability to track the shoppers “traffic” areas, known as “heat maps”, areas were [sic] customers would concentrate more and spend more time exploring, etc." (emphasis added and references to figures removed for readability) (And note the repeated emphasis on preferably - they don't have a patent to do any of this.)

Which, like, not great! I fucking hate the idea of shit like this! But there is literally nothing here about monitoring your expressions to sell the data about how you react to packaging!

This isn't a nefarious plan hidden in the patent. It's tech bros adding on totally sick ideas about how they can sell this shit to walgreens. (Because to be clear, I'm sure walgreens's corporate office would love to collect and sell this kind of information. But just because they would, doesn't mean they can or are. And this patent sure as hell doesn't prove it.)

Because let me be clear: the image capture of consumers is so irrelevant to the product that it literally isn't even included in the claims section of the patent.

Because the patent is quite explicit and detailed about the idea they are selling big retails stores on - this is a better, new, innovative, tech-driven way to "provide an innovative advertising solution"! (The words "AI," "intelligent," and "machine learning" are deployed liberally, but in the same way that "blockchain" was a few years ago. It's advertising tech hype.)

I want to make it clear - the OP in the video is straight up lying to you. Whether for fun or profit or just attention, I don't know and I don't care. If you shared this, you probably should have know better, but everyone makes mistakes. OP, on the other hand, is just a fucking liar.

But Owl! What about "the senators looking into this"?

I don't know how to tell you this, but thing linked about is a press release by a politician's office. That doesn't mean it's not true, but it's not evidence on it's own. Like, the letter linked in the link included links to sources, but is not itself evidence (ooh, layers of links to actually get to a source, my favorite)(actually my computer wouldn't even goddam open the links to the source, I had to independently search for it).

Anyway, the letter to Kroger linked in the press release by the senators contains a single sentence and a single link relevant to the claim here (linked for your convenience because it sure as hell wasn't for mine). Unfortunately, this article is itself based on a goddam press release (That isn't linked! Again, you're welcome.)

And when we finally get to the underlying fucking source. "In addition to transforming the customer experience and enhancing productivity for associates, the EDGE Shelf will enable Kroger to generate new revenue by selling digital advertising space to consumer packaged goods (CPGs) brands. Using video analytics, personalized offers and advertisements can be presented based on customer demographics." So it's purporting to something *kind of* like the claim in the video, but an entirely different format completely unrelated to the thing the video is scaremongering about.

Now Kroger did actually start using the advertising screens in 2023. And you can believe what you want about the data privacy claims and the claims about not using video, just sensors (which remember is entirely consistent with the patent). But remember: being skeptical of a company's claims is fine and good! It does not mean you have proven they are lying, and it especially does not prove you have claimed they are doing something extremely specific! And most of the articles, and the letter from the senators, are (much more reasonably) concerned about so-called "dynamic" or surge pricing. (Which is not related to the screens.)

Like goddamn. Aren't there enough real problems with surveillance and price-gorging to be concerned about without having to make up fake ones? Hell, why can't we at least be concerned with the real problems with those dumb screens, which is that the a) make shopping harder and b) catch fire?

[newtonsheffield]

I know you're super knowledgable about Bridgerton so I wanted to get your thoughts and opinions on this. As someone who hasn't read the books (but Idc about spoilers), I wonder how the show is gonna have Eloise end up with Mr. Crane. From what I know of the books from the wiki fan page and Tumblr the books really seem like a suggestion at this point lol and I just cant conceptualize her ending up with him but I'd love your input or theories.

I hope Eloise is one of the very last seasons. I hate so many of her decisions but I empathize w her and I'm so fucking invested in her growthI and thats gonna take time and I dont want them to rush that for the sake of order

I Don’t know about super knowledgeable 😂

I think… they’re going to have to pull some pretty major changes to that story to get it to work within the context of the show at this point. That’s why for a split second I thought Eloise and Michaela Stirling were getting paired up. And truthfully I think one of the major problems the show has to face is the Marina of it all.

I have said many times and I will stand by it still that Julia Quinn is not the world’s greatest author. But something she is good at is giving you only the information you need to invest in the relationship that she wants you to invest in. In the books we have no idea who Marina is (A distant Bridgerton cousin in the books) until Phillip starts talking about her at the beginning of the book. That means, we find it a little tragic that she suffered from these mental health issues but were distanced from it. That’s very different from the darkness of a character that we know suffering the same fate. It also I feel… won’t really play that well given she was the one who gave Colin a speech about the fact that she was content enough with her life and didn’t need saving. That’s a switch up.

I think… there’s a lot of work to do to get Eloise and Phillip to a place where they’re right for each other.

I have been critical of the line they’ve taken with Eloise because I feel like she fails to recognize the privilege she has that she doesn’t need to marry. Violet might nudge her a bit over enthusiastically in that direction but she really seems to have given up on that after last season. And Anthony, after the disaster of making a match for Daphne and after finding that his life is SO much improved being married to Kate ho he loves very much is NOT going to arrange her a match and force her to go through with it. Few women were afforded this. And Eloise does not recognise that at all. They got SO FUCKING CLOSE to her acknowledging this through her friendship with Cressida this season. And then they threw it back in my fucking face! True feminism is about having the CHOICE.

I feel like Tyra Banks.

Eloise has a lot to learn and one of my criticisms of season three is that I felt Penelope and Colin weren’t ready for each other and needed to grow more so I hope they take their time with Eloise.

This is just one person’s opinion of course. Has no bearing on anything.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 9

Hello and welcome back to this wonderful fic! Like I've said before having a set schedule for each story got hard and I've resorted to posting on vibes alone.

This week's vibes are all over the place because of the pain in my elbow. It's getting better but it's taking every ounce of self-control and self-preservation I have not write as many words a day as I can to make up for lost time and slowly work my way back up to my old schedule so I don't re-injure it.

But as I've said, if you want to see a specific work more often, drop me an ask and I'll see what I can do.

Here we have Eddie being a sweetheart and Steve and his friends being dorks.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

NDAs were such a large part of Steve’s life he couldn’t remember a time he didn’t have them. For everything.

Even producers had to sign them before they could even breathe in the direction of The Fallen in the recording studio.

It was an exhausting but necessary part of his life. Just like the locked room in his apartment.

Shane and Spence had done an amazing job with Steve’s little notebook of song material. And shocker, only two of them were love songs. Most of the rest of the songs were about trying to survive in a world you had to hide.

He knew that a lot of critics would tell them to lose the masks if it bothered them so much, but at this point Steve didn’t care. They were working on their third album in three years and he was fucking tired.

“Again, from the top,” the producer said into the com. “Abbadon you got a little pitchy on the second line. Watch it. Astraeus, you’re coming in too early. It’s duh-ba-ba-dun and then you come in. You’re coming in on the first ba.”

Steve and Shane nodded and they began again.

Steve’s brain thought it was going to melt out of his ears. He had a test for his certification after today’s session in the studio and he was sure all the information would have leaked out by then.

But apparently Steve’s brain went on autopilot taking the test, and not only did he pass, he passed with full marks.

Spence clapped Steve shoulder. “Hey, man if this whole rockstar gig ever falls apart, you should come be an EMT with me.”

Steve grinned back. That wasn’t a bad idea actually. With his lifeguard training and his affinity for thinking well under pressure, it really was the ideal job.

“I might just take you up on that.”

They broke up for the day and as Steve was putting away his guitar his phone rang.

“Hey, Eds,” he greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie replied. “How did your test go?”

“I aced it!” Steve said, bouncing on the tips of his toes in excitement.

“What?” Eddie cried. “Baby, that’s so amazing! We’ll definitely go out tonight and celebrate. But that’s not the reason I’m calling.”

“Oh?” Steve asked.

“How far are you guys into the album?” Eddie asked, hesitantly.

Steve frowned for a moment. He looked over at Spence and Hopper. They had all had a really rough session today and it had become almost grueling in a way that the other two albums never felt.

“Not as far as we’d like,” Steve admitted. If anyone knew what they were going through it was Eddie.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Eddie commiserated. “Would it be better to continue at it or take break touring?”

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. It would be nice to actually take time with the album and not push it out as quickly as possible.

“A break for sure,” Steve murmured. “We’re on our third album in three years, and even though we just got back from a tour, it was less exhausting than being in the studio right now.”

Eddie was silent for a moment. “Have you thought about changing the studio you’re working in? Sometimes a change of scenery can help.”

“I guess we could try,” Steve muttered. “I just didn’t think we had that kind of pull with the record label yet. I’ll call Robin later and see what she can do.”

Eddie hummed in agreement. “So the reason I was asking, babe, is that they have given us a choice of two sets of dates. One that would start at the beginning of the new year and one that would start next summer. And since we’re taking you with us, our management is going to coordinate with yours.”

“Oh.”

Steve wasn’t sure which he would prefer, if he was being honest. “Can I talk to my boys and get back to you on that?”

“Sure thing, Stevie,” Eddie said fondly. “You can tell all about what you guys decided when we meet up for drinks tonight, how does that sound?”

Steve let out a little sigh of relief. “Yeah, that sounds great, Eds. Text me the details.”

“You’ve got it!” Eddie said and then they both said their goodbyes and hang up.

More work, Steve thought mournfully. He didn’t want more work. He was tired and miserable and he should have been happy. The record was liking the album so far, they were about to go on tour with the biggest metal band in the world, he was dating Eddie. Why wasn’t he happy?

He put his head in his hands and forced himself to breathe. He knew that a lot of what he was feeling was being forced to wait when he didn’t want to.

That even if he was out as Abbadon, he couldn’t be out with Eddie. Both of their labels would have literal bitch fits. They could be out to their friends, but as far as the media went, that was off limits. Being bisexual or gay was better now, but it could still tank their careers if they came out with actual same sex partners. Steve’s career especially, new as it was.

Steve let out a low shuddering breath. This whole masked identities shit was tough. He didn’t know how those other bands could handle it. Maybe the difference was that their families knew. He honestly didn’t know.

But he had chosen to walk down this road. When they first started playing and getting turned away by how they looked, they chose to not change themselves, but to become someone else. And it worked and he really couldn’t argue with the results.

Steve loved his job. He loved that he got be in a band with his best friends and that his platonic soulmate was their manager. He loved getting out there on stage and singing his heart out. But it was hard sometimes.

He pulled out his phone and called Robin. “Hey, what are the label’s requirement on getting this album done? Like does it have to be at this studio with this producer?”

“One sec,” Robin said, pulling it up on her computer. She scanned the document complete with searching for key words. “Doesn’t look like it. Why? What’s up?”

“You know how we’ve hit a wall in the studio?” Steve asked around chewing on his thumb.

She scoffed. Of course she knew. “And you’re thinking a change of venue might help or at the very least a new producer?”

“Yeah...” Steve said. “Eddie suggested it, but I wasn’t sure if we had that kind of clout with the record label.”

Robin was quiet on the line, but Steve could feel the cogs in her head turn. “I’ll get on it.”

“Thanks,” he said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Did Eddie’s label send over the tour dates?”

“Let’s see...” she hummed. “Yup! I’m reading through them... and I’m guessing you to talk with everyone before making a final decision?”

“Right in one,” Steve said. “Preferably with whether or not we get someone else in to produce.”

“You’ve got it, babe,” she said. “Does this have a deadline?”

“Eddie said he would like to know by tonight,” he said, “but I can tell him we’re still working things out and that’s we’ll get back to him.”

“That would be ideal, yes.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I’ll still talk to the boys and at least get a feel for what they’re thinking even if we can’t shift producers or studio.”

“Sounds good,” Robin said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I learn anything.”

He hung up and pulled up the group chat and messaged his friends to meet at his place. He had stuff he wanted to talk with them regarding upcoming tour dates.

Simon and Shane texted back immediately. Spence had left them on read for about fifteen minutes before responding with a question about how long they would be.

And then the ribbing began.

-Oohh...you with that girl?- Shane

-He totally is!!- Simon

-Pics or it didn’t happen- Steve

-Pics!- Simon

-Yeah, man, is she cute?- Shane

-Why do you care, Shane? You’re gay- Spence

-Because like a flower I can appreciate the feminine form, even if I don’t want to fuck it- Shane

Pic comes in of Spence on his couch with a gorgeous dark-skinned woman with soulful eyes and long black hair.

-Meet Nadia

-Lucky guy!- Simon

-That’s quite the flower :P- Shane

-Yeahhh...I’m sorry, man, as much as I would like to let you stay with your lady love, we really need to talk. Business. :(

-I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. -Spence

-lol! You keep telling yourself that and maybe one day I’ll believe you- Shane

-GASP! Spence doesn’t love us! :’(- Simon

-Damn it. Fine I love you all- Spence

-Simon uses sad emoji against Spence, it’s super effective! (pokeball emoji)- Steve

-Meet at my place as soon as you can- Steve

There was the usual chorus of affirmative responses and Steve set down his phone.

He looked up at the ceiling as he huffed out a sigh. His friends were on the way, Robin was trying to fix the problem with them hitting a brick wall making their album, and Eddie was supportive.

It helped that Spence was dating now, too. They could commiserate about their love lives.

Simon hated that while he could get girls as Asmodeus but not as himself he swore off dating until he found someone who liked him for him and not just because he was a rock god.

Shane just liked having fun. Wherever that took him. Usually gay bars with lots of booze and dancing.

They weren’t “rich and famous” enough for the wild parties and shit. At least not yet. They were getting a lot traction with their second major album though so that was probably going to change fast.

Steve just glad that he would have Eddie and Robin holding his hand though this.

He looked over at the contract on his table and sighed. Like Spence, he really did love his job. And he knew that there were hundreds of bands wishing to be in his shoes.

He could do this.

He was, after all Abbadon, lead singer of The Fallen and he knew how to do this shit.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch

@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian

@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners

@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade

@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

[comikadraws]

Sasuke and the Final Battle

Alright! So personally, I dislike the conclusion that Sasuke's character got in canon. Here's why!

I am putting in pluses between panels to ensure nobody thinks those panels belong together.

The premise of the battle is as follows: Sasuke, motivated by the loss of his family, comes up with a plan to rectify the injustice he experienced which involves killing Naruto - not just because it promises him the power he seeks but also because he wants to cut that bond. It's a direct parallel to the first VotE fight.

Now, I still think Sasuke deserved better and I am very sorry to all Sasuke fans, but we need to get this one out of the way first.

While Sasuke's plans in the first VotE fight made a lot of sense, here, in the second fight, they are downright insane. He essentially plans to take over the world, become a dictator, and maintain his rule in neverending loneliness by becoming immortal. It doesn't need a genius to see that this should probably be considered tyrannical and self-destructive. And yes, he absolutely needed someone to knock some sense into him. But please keep in mind that the degree of Sasuke's insanity is a deliberate choice of the writer. A plot device for picking sides.

And it also makes a lot of sense for Konoha to be wary of him. Outside of this fight, he switched sides like five times. That's not something that would make you look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

It makes sense for Sasuke to feel guilty for his actions. He tried to kill his friends and comrades on multiple occasions. That's not something anybody would feel proud of.

But now, here are the issues I have with this battle and its conclusion:

Sasuke's core motivation is being glossed over

There's a huge bias going on in favor of Konoha and Naruto

Sasuke's sudden change of heart is abrupt and inconsistent with his character

The conclusion of Sasuke's character only exists in theory

Core Motivation

Sasuke's core motivation is the injustice experienced by the victims of the Uchiha massacre. His pain, loneliness, or even his wish for change are merely symptomatic, yet they are the only motivations ever acknowledged throughout the battle - even by Sasuke himself.

Problem is, Naruto needs to physically and ideologically defeat Sasuke - preferably without looking like the bad guy for shutting down a victim's cry for change and justice. But that only works by erasing and not ever talking about the corruption of the system. As a consequence of removing Sasuke's motivation and justification, he ends up looking insane to the reader.

But defeating Sasuke and reducing his motivation to insanity like that, not acknowledging and condemning the injustice that motivates him, can only come at the cost of his depth, authenticity, and readability as a character.

The Konoha Bias

This also makes Kishimoto seem incredibly biased when it comes to Konoha. The crimes the village has committed, be it genocide, slavery, or child abuse, usually merely fulfill the purpose of "sad backstories" rather than being given the time and dignity to be properly identified, criticized, and rectified in the story. Injustice is allowed to be a character motivation or a flavor in the story, but it is not allowed to be a theme. That is no different here. Sasuke's traumas (though not their origin) are used to inform his actions but not shown as the result of the depravity of the system.

Aside from this linking back to Sasuke's character being deprived of his ideological value in the story (due to being a victim of the system and demanding change), this lack of attention and awareness toward the injustice reads like propaganda from an irl perspective. These are some of the most contemptworthy acts in existence we are talking about. And yet Konoha gets away unscathed.

Meanwhile, Sasuke, who is seemingly the only person demanding change, is intentionally characterized as "crazy", inevitably invalidating him and his desire for change. It basically reads as "yes, this system is rotten but everybody wanting to change it is evil". Change becomes evil by association. It's disheartening, demoralizing, and disappointing.

The Change of Heart

Now let's take a look at how his character actually progresses during this battle.

Sasuke wants to change the world even if that means killing Naruto or being lonely

Sasuke re-evaluates his relationship with Naruto

Sasuke realizes he no longer wants to kill Naruto or be lonely even if that means the world never changes

Now. Rethinking his self-destructive approach is, without question, a positive change. But that is not the problem here.

The problem is that this change in his character occurs rather unprompted. Sasuke, the entirety of the story, has ignored his own suffering in favor of justice. He has ignored every single character crying over him or telling him that they don't want him to ruin or endanger himself. But then Naruto basically says "it hurts to watch you suffer" and Sasuke suddenly rethinks his entire ideology. Naruto is basically only treating one of Sasuke's symptoms but not their origin.

This is unrealistic for his character and hurts his coherence (as well a invalidating him). It is a forced plot convenience to avoid any sort of compromise between Naruto and Sasuke. Both because Naruto has to come out on top due to genre conventions and also because Konoha cannot be questioned.

Missing Conclusion

Furthermore, this results in Sasuke's arc never coming to an actual "conclusion". As a victim, he should have been given justice. As someone who was supposedly suffering under his loneliness, he should have been given companionship. As a villain, somebody should have pointed out his hypocrisy and the wrongs he has committed.

None of that happened. Sasuke is not given justice and is even incarcerated in the most undignified and dehumanizing fashion possible in the anime. Afterward, he takes off alone. So in the end, even the "power of friendship" resolution that Kishimoto attempted to write only occurred on a surface level and failed in its execution. Sasuke is not changed because he realizes he is a hypocrite and doing more harm than good but because of a plot convenience. Sasuke internalized none of what he supposedly learned and practically had no conclusion whatsoever. He is still suffering. Nothing has changed.

The Point

And at this point, I'm just wondering "what was the point?". Clearly, the point of Sasuke's character wasn't to explore the darkness of the shinobi system. And it wasn't to seek justice for the horrors it has committed. It also wasn't about helping Sasuke heal from any of the hardships he's endured.

The point was, unfortunately, to be Naruto's trophy. Naruto is the main character, therefore he must remain ideologically unchallenged and perfect, he must have the strongest jutsu arsenal and he must have the most unwavering determination. Even if that means bending the other characters to the plot's needs. Sasuke is, thanks to genre conventions, not allowed to be right and Naruto cannot be wrong. A compromise or any justice at all become impossible.

[captainjonnitkessler]

I think being on the internet has given a lot of leftists a drastically skewed view of how popular our beliefs are.

Most politicians support Israel because most Americans support Israel - only 8% of the population thinks the US should publicly criticize Israel.

Bernie didn't lose the primaries because the Democrats were just too scared of having a real progressive in office so they rigged the election, he lost because socialists are the least-electable people in America and because fewer people voted for him. That's how elections work. ( In b4 'but everyone else dropped out in a coordinated effort to concentrate votes behind biden!' - yeah, if your candidate can only win when the vote is split eight ways that's not a viable candidate. And I voted for Bernie!)

As of 2021 only about 15% of Americans support defunding the police, 47% would like to see increased police funding, and the number of people who think violent crime is a "very big" problem jumped 20 percentage points up to 61% in one year.

And it's just really frustrating to see internet leftists being super condescending as though everybody should already know everything and be on board with this stuff or else they're a Bad Person, driving people away from leftist ideology or making people too afraid to ask questions lest they be branded as a Centrist or worse, a Liberal, or refusing to engage in politics until they're being specifically catered to even though that would be political suicide (and would therefore not accomplish anything anyway.)

And like. It's fine to think that people who support Israel or more police funding are bad people, frankly I think a lot of them are. But I think even more are just misinformed or not really informed about alternatives at all. And not everyone is in the headspace to do education or outreach, but when you're only 10% of the population I think you need to make a choice about whether you want to feel good about being right on the internet or whether you want to be effective. It's frustrating to have to walk someone step-by-step through why genocide is bad, but it's a lot more likely to change minds than shouting at someone that they're obviously just a genocide-loving racist is.

[gold-rhine]

Sub! Heizou x GN Dom! Reader

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned.

Warnings: nsfw, overstim, slight degradation, spanking, leash play, anal sex, cock stands for strap\cock as usual.

Wordcount: 3k

I don’t think there needs to be a lot of analysis to justify Heizou being a sub, it’s fairly intentionally in your face in both hangout and ahem, birthday “yawning” art, because that’s the most most obvious bottom “O-face” since Gorou’s “moaning and tearing up over the bowl of onions” emoji.

Like in two endings he straight up says out loud his confidence is partly a facade and he’d really love for someone else to sometimes step up and take the charge, but no one does bc ppl think he’s too smart.

”Haha, well, as you might see, I’m a little less confident than people might think.”

“And everyone around me thinks I’m so smart that I should be able to handle every case on my own.<...> But you’re different. Unlike them, you don’t have that kind of prejudice towards me. <...> So I’d like you to decide whether we should expose the truth or not.”

He’s not a pushover and he’s not a pillow princess-y type, but he’s also not a brat. He’ll encourage you to take the lead and won’t criticize your choices, but he will *evaluate them*.

First of all, on how well you’re keeping up with his hyperactive ADHD goblin nature, and second, he’ll leave the unspoken puzzle and see if you’ll manage to figure it out.

He’s open for experimentation and fairly shameless, but how far he’ll go pretty much depends on if he judges you competent enough for this.

Like, meeting him in the hangout starts with him openly calling Traveler “so dreamy”, and then he lets the Traveler decide what course of action to take, but only divulges hidden information after the Traveler showed that they have a deeper understanding of a situation and connected several puzzle dots themselves.

His inner conflict is when it’s immoral or not to withhold information and does it depend on how capable a person given this information is. The law does not really factor into this, Heizou will act on his own principles instead.

Like in the hangout case he only tells the Traveler that he will follow their choice (see above) after the Traveler presents him with the evidence and proves they have sound judgment.

So he’d *LIKE* to let someone else make decisions, but he wants to make sure that someone else is qualified. So he won’t like outright lie, but he will withhold context if you don’t show him that you get it.

Then he can get quite clingy, like telling Traveler that he’d love to have them as a partner all the time, haha he’s joking, he wouldn’t want to be so greedy…UNLESS???

In a situation where he does trust the other person’s competence, he likes to feel helpless, overpowered and needy, if you indulge him in it. His ideal situation is where you understand that he’s smart and capable himself and he doesn’t strictly need you to take charge, but would enjoy it.

He wants to have fun without anyone making it too weird, and he wants to know you have a clear head on your shoulders, that’s it.

One day while you’re walking down the street near your home, a group of obvious miscreants runs by and a young man in white shirt and brown shorts follows them. The last of ruffians shoves him while they’re running past you and you catch him to stop him from hitting a corner of a house with his head. When the bandit looks back, you instinctively shield a man in your arms with your shoulder, and the bandit obviously judges it not worth the trouble, runs away.

When you look at the man you’re holding, he’s looking up at you with a wide smile, bright green eyes twinkling.

“Oh, thank you, my savior!”

“I didn’t do anything,” you say, putting him upright. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine!” he suddenly pauses, looks you over and says in a weaker tone, leaning into you. “I mean, I’m a little not fine, nothing major, but perhaps if someone could look after me for just a little bit?...”

You take him to get coffee just to keep an eye on him and end up talking for hours. His name is Heizou, he’s flirty, fun and cute, has ruffled mauve hair and little twin moles under his eyes, asks more questions than he’d like to answer about himself, wears a choker and a shirt that leaves his sides bare, and would very obviously love to get dommed from how he talks to you. But you cannot in good conscience take advantage of him now, because his eagerness might be an effect from the shock, so you let him go.

Day later you talk with a neighbor and he mentions how the young detective who from his words meets Heizou’s description just caught a group of pickpockets.

“Detective, huh?” you ask out loud, and some things that didn’t make sense before fall into place. Like an exaggerated weak affect and how eagerly he pushed himself on you.

Couple of days after you walk into a confrontation in one of the secluded courtyards on the way to your home. There’s Heizou and opposite of him a group headed by the large white-haired oni. It looks incredibly awkward and staged.

“Oh, it’s my savior again!” Heizou says coquettishly, smiling at you. “Hello there! It seems you’re just in time to save me once again.”

“From what?” you say calmly, crossing your arms.

“From being mugged, of course.”

“So these guys need to be arrested, huh?”

A tall oni starts shifting nervously, looking back and forth from you to Heizou.

“Hey, hey, we didn’t agree on…”

A green-haired woman elbows him and he stumbles.

“I mean, you can’t arrest us, we’re big bad bandits, rawr!”

You ignore him, looking Heizou straight in the eyes. He pauses for a second, then pretends to be fainting in your direction. You catch him, rolling your eyes. Green-haired woman punches the oni in his side and they run away with the entire group.

“Oh, thank you,” Heizou says, looking artistically disheveled in your arms.

“No problem, Detective,” you say coldly and he tenses, straightens up.

“So you know…”

“Yeah. And I don’t appreciate being played for a fool.”

“Listen, it’s not like that… It’s just that I... I wanted you to treat me like a sub, but you didn’t do anything after we first met, and I thought maybe if you see me in an even weaker state...”

“I didn’t do anything because you seemed too irrational from shock. If you just told me the truth that you’re detective and were fine, you’d be spread on my bed few nights ago.“

He blushes, but his green eyes light up.

“I would? Oh, I mean, I am fine and we cleared the misunderstandings, so?... Um? About spreading?“

You shake your head, narrowing your eyes.

“Only come to me if you’re ready to drop your bullshit. I’m sure you can figure out how to find me, Detective.“

“Hey there!” he’s bouncing on your threshold a day after with the widest obnoxious smile, and you wouldn’t see the tinge of nervousness under it if you weren't paying attention. “So you said I can come if I dropped the bullshit and um, you can pat me over, including cavity search if you want, to make sure I haven’t got any on me”

You roll your eyes, hooking your fingers under his choker, pull him close and kiss him. He stumbles for a second, but then melts, throws his arms around your neck and presses against you. You can feel him getting hard as you pull him towards the bedroom and then throw him roughly onto the bed. He looks up, his green eyes sparkling in delight.

“Cavity search?” you say incredulously, crawling over him to slide your hands under his shirt and pulling off both of his layers. “That was terrible.”

“I know, I know, I panicked,” he moves his arms to help you get the shirt off, then pulls frantically at the ties of the armguards. “I was going to say you have a search warrant, but somehow it turned into a cavity search.”

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” you grin against his cheek and pull his pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. He gasps, and when you grab his ankles and forcefully spread his legs, he blushes but looks you straight in the eye, already fully hard and breathless in excitement.

“I am? I mean, of course I am, but do tell me more about it.”

You kiss him instead, roam your hands over his slender body, and he arches under you, moans against your mouth. You slide your hand down, close it over hard, twitching cock and he whines, bucks his hips against your palm.

“Oh yeah,” he whispers feverishly. “Yes... Don’t be afraid to treat me rough…”

“Oh trust me, I won’t,” you grope his leaking cock and balls in your hand, firmly like you own them, and he whines sweetly, looking up at you with excitement in half-narrowed eyes. When you slide your hand down and circle his entrance, he comes immediately, pressing himself against you.

You chuckle, kissing him.

“In my defense, I spent some long nights imagining you touching me, so I’m not taking criticisms on how quick I came,“ he mutters, squirming under you, cheeks blushing brightly.

You grin and stand up, moving away.

“Well, you’re not getting away that easily, kitten. I’ll be back shortly.“

When you walk back to the bed, he has finished taking off the last piece of the guard and is waiting for you, naked except for the elbow-high fishnet gloves and a choker.

“I have something that I think you would like,” you smirk, showing him a leash and he gasps, visibly lighting up.

“Have you thought about becoming a detective yourself? That’s spot on.”

“It wasn’t a very hard deduction to make,” you hook your fingers under his choker, lifting him up, and he follows, grinning under the bitten lip. He’s so lovely in how blushing and eager he is while you’re closing the leash on his neck, looking up at you from under the ruffled bangs.

You turn him around, so that he leans against the bedrest and he giggles, settling down on his knees.

“Oh, great, I wasn’t sure how to breach the subject of… consequences of being naughty.”

“You don’t try playing hard to get, do you?” you grin, slide your hand from his intentionally arched back to caress smooth skin of the perky ass, obviously and eagerly presented for you.

“No, why, would you want me to?” he shoots you a sharp glance over the shoulder, analytical even now.

“No,” you say pleasantly and slap his ass, hard. He gasps, shudders, but arches even more, presses quickly reddening, tender flesh harder against your hand. You spread him and run your fingers between his legs.“I like it when you’re being open.”

“I don’t see the point in denying the obvious,” he says, still sounding mostly collected, if a little breathless in excitement. “And if I don’t show what I want, how will I get it?”

You strike his ass again, several times in a row, until it’s blooming red and he’s whining quiet and sweet, then you stroke it.

“Very logical of you,” you say, squeezing his sensitive ass while he’s squirming needily under your hands, and kiss the sharp curve of his shoulder, move his ruffled hair aside and get to his neck. “Unlike the stunt you tried to pull earlier.”

“Oh well, I miscalculated,” he says airly. “And it’s not as if I was trying to deceive you, it’s that I know that once people hear who I am they misjudge… the way I’d want to be treated. So I just wanted to make sure you get the right impression.”

You tug on the leash, pulling him close, his back against your chest. He gasps, arches his back and rubs his ass against you.

“Or you could’ve just said so honestly, you dumbass,” you run your hand over his chest down, close it over his cock and kiss him, still tugging on the leash. He kisses you back, eager and a little sloppy, rocks his hips, rutting against your palm.

“Well, taking your advice on speaking openly,” he whispers breathlessly after breaking a kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “I’m close again and I want to come from you fucking me.”

“Good boy.”

You pull him into your lap, over the strap\cock, and he squirms, straddling your knees. You catch his chin, while he’s lowering himself over onto the head of your cock, make him meet your eyes, his own hazy green, cheeks bright in blush, pink lips half-open and taking short feverish breaths. You put your hands on his hips and push him all the way down until you’re fully buried in him, and he moans, shuddering and arching in your arms.

“Ah! Oh yes, yeah, like that, oh fuck…”

He rides you, his hips moving rhythmically and his hard cock bouncing against his stomach, but when you close your hand over it, he whines, digs his fingers into your shoulders.

“Please, no, I’ll come too soon if you touch me…”

You let him go and chuckle, pepper kisses over his neck, chest, lick over his pink hardened nipple, while he’s whimpering pleas and fucking himself on your cock.

“You’re really such a slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, I love it, I love how your cock feels inside of me, please…”

You tug on his leash, making him arch, suck on the tender juncture between his shoulder and neck. He comes just like that, screaming, his movements turning frantic. You push him down on his back, roll over him without taking your cock out.

“Can you take any more, kitten?”

“Yes.. yes, please keep fucking me,” he’s trembling under you, but says this firmly, looks you in the eye without hesitation, his ass clenching around you. “Use me like I’m your toy…”

You lift his legs up, pressing his knees against his chest, exposing his ass and thighs, still pink from spanking. You can see his oversensitive red cock getting hard just from being spread and exposed like that, and when you thrust deeply into him, he screams and tries to lift himself off the bed, writhing under you. You grip his hips and fuck him hard, hitting his prostate, until his mouth is going slack and his eyes roll over, his pleas turn into incoherent moans and whimpers.

You lean down, cock buried deep inside him, kiss the corner of his mouth. He whines, his arms tightening around your shoulders and his hips rolling to take you even deeper.  

“You've been very good, kitten,” you whisper against his parted lips, his green eyes glittering with held tears. “Come for me, baby.”

He comes after a few thrusts, clutching at you, and you fuck him through it until he goes limp. Then you slide out of him, let him curl against you, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. You hold him and gently stroke his hair until he stops shivering, giving him time to come to senses before you’ll move to clean up.

“How fast will you want me to leave?” he asks, quietly, but his voice is firm, neutral. “I know I can be annoying in large doses, so if you need me to get out, I can…”

You silence him with a kiss, slow and sweet to calm him down. “It’s okay, kitten, you don’t annoy me. Don’t worry about it, just rest.”

He freezes for a second and then suddenly presses himself desperately against you, clutches at your shoulders. You stroke his hair, neck, sharp knobs of his spine soothingly, whisper sweet nothings in his ear until his body relaxes. He rubs his cheek against your chest and looks up with a cheeky grin.

“I am lucky that I’m cute, huh?”

[siyelius]

I wanna hear your headcanons about Josh and dynamic he has with Markus

oh shoot I love that guy he’s so underrated. I love how bold and unapologetic he is of his opinons. This’ll be long so I’ll try and section it off:

if you’ve got any you’d like to add I’d love to discuss !!

- his arms seem clean by the time his intro comes around, so given his backstory of having been beaten by drunk college students I’d assumed by then he’d have replaced or healed from most physical damages. then again, I still hc his torso endowed with soldered bullet wounds and plasticine chassis slightly warped from the heat caused by explosives in BfD.

- his baseline for his opinions stems from his past occupation as a professor. He was built to be a walking textbook, he’d be most knowledgeable on civil rights protests and how minority groups reacted to oppression as it was literally ingrained in him from creation. His insistence of refraining from human casualties and making a stand even if it meant the death of many androids is a mirror image of how various peaceful protests throughout history were carried through.

- due to his strong voice, he probably oversees the wing of jericho relating to intel and underground recruitment. he’s able to broadcast on a mass scale (projecting functions / specialized hardware) and is responsible for relaying hidden messages to guide deviants safely into jericho through methods invisible to the naked human eye. he’s quite talkative, so he fills in the goal of jericho to deviants markus may have freshly converted. like a guide. (this is more speculation, but I’d like to think Jericho’s old symbol being a monkey’s wrench was his idea as it references the railroad.)

- josh probably finds comfort in knowing his words are genuinely heard by the people of jericho, compared to the ignoring and abuse he was victim to while instructing at college. the students saw his lectures as nothing more than a boring youtube video spoken verbally as a lazy excuse for an actual, human professor to not be teaching instead. In jericho, he’s seen as both a person and a superintendent, so he’s respected and listened to by other androids. and they recognize that josh’s information isn’t regurgitated from the internet, but of his own experiences and thoughts.

- relating to bonds, while north paired herself with markus constantly id say josh grew close with simon if not already been close previously. he acts as si’s voice quite a lot in Jericho’s chapter, and he wears a university sweater that may have been tied to josh. they were both paired off together on multiple occasions (Stratford, together in the cyberlife warehouse truck, and possible capital park team), so it’s safe to say they probably work well together.

// DYNAMIC WITH MARKUS

I truly believe it fluctuates depending on which Markus decision-wise. Peaceful Markus seems as the most favorable choice to win Josh’s full approval, but his respect and support are on two different fences to me as shown by the argument he can kick up at the beginning of Crossroads. he supports Markus’ choices, but he doesn’t necessarily approve of them. He doesn’t like the deaths of unaffiliated humans, or any who were caught in the crossfire of their missions and he’s not afraid to voice his strong opinions on those matters. yes josh will kill and harm humans, but only if they’re directly involved with their cause and in the moment (ex. the armed forces he’s shot at in both Stratford and fought in freedom march in self-defense).

He clashes with Markus, but I believe it’s out of respect and as an attempt to display his thoughts on the matter. It does no good to blindly follow a leader if you believe their methods are flawed / in need of calling out. and Josh does just that. he also clashes with north quite often, and simon too. no one is safe from josh’s opposition. It just shows that markus has just a chance as any to hear Josh’s words, because what good is improvement if not begun with criticism? It’s why I love josh and some hate him, what others see as him being annoying I see as a necessity both gameplay-wise and in terms of their personalities. Yes his logic is flawed. But so is north’s and Simon’s. All three are from different backgrounds and have different reasonings for how they view humans. If josh believes something is wrong you’re damn right he’s gonna say something. That’s why he’s awesome.

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 33)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (32) | Next (34)

Content Warning: Some mouthplay (brief, not the focus of the chapter)

Word Count: 2.1k

------ Chapter 33: The True History ------

Ronny didn’t sleep well, with Tanya weeping next to his head all night on his nightstand. They both eventually nodded off, but Ronny had to get up early for his morning tutoring lessons. Yet again, he was too ashamed to face Tanya. With the morning came recollections and fresh perspective. As he was dressed and fed, Ronny snuck a glance at Tanya, huddled up in her own doll bed. She didn’t get up or look at him, even when he opened the lid to give her breakfast. She only pulled the sheets tighter around her, hiding from view. 

He was wounded inside, not only to be given the cold shoulder but when reflecting on his past behavior. He questioned if he was a fool, falling into the trap of being too soft. Perhaps he was making a mistake, seeing humans as people. Maybe he was being irrational. Should he harden his heart, as his father demanded of him? He hated to admit that his monster of a father could be right, but these powerful new feelings were out of control. It would be so much easier, just to trample them into the dirt and fall back into his old ways. 

He smoothed his features, still swollen purple from his beating, into an aloof, frosty expression and trudged to class. If he had a choice, he’d prefer to just lay in bed and sleep. He was depressed, exhausted, and cranky. The sight of his sister, playing with a small man on the end of her fine gold chain, irritated him further. He wished the humans would just go away. He didn’t want to ruminate over what he had done—all the horrible things he had done. He sat down in his chair. 

“Welcome back,” Milton began. “Today we’re going to be studying... history.” An excited gleam entered his eye as he dramatically plunked a thick, ancient tome on his desk and tapped the cover with his finger. 

“That’s boring!” Bianca interrupted rudely. The royal children had been schooled to death about past generations of Giganterra’s kings and queens. She continued to fiddle with her necklace, slurping the diminutive man’s feet and legs in her mouth and sucking on them. He cried out, but she covered his mouth with her fingertip to muffle his screams. 

Milton appeared unperturbed by her lack of interest. He opened the book and flicked through the dusty pages. “This book chronicles the history of Minimaterra.” Both Ronny and Bianca perked up their ears at this information. Although the tutor didn’t realize it, he was treading in dangerous waters. Minimaterra’s history was one of those “forbidden subjects” that King Richard prohibited. 

The erudite giant cleared his throat and began to read, paraphrasing the longer portions in his own words. The royal siblings listened with rapt attention. “Minimaterra was once referred to by a different name, though what exactly that name was is now lost to the ages. The original title was censored by later generations, physically scratched out or removed in historical documents. It used to be a kingdom of giants, a neighboring country to Giganterra. The two kingdoms were not on the friendliest of terms, but maintained a brittle peace, as they were about equal in regards to size and military strength. One could not conquer the other without great cost and excessive bloodshed. 

“Magic was practiced clandestinely among certain bloodlines, but was reviled and feared as unholy witchcraft. Sorcerers were forced to practice their craft in secret. The government, while aware of these family lineages, did not prosecute the spellcasters as long as they didn’t cause problems. One day, a sorcerer used his magic to disguise his face, masquerading as a trusted servant to the king, and breached the castle grounds to assassinate the ruler of Minimaterra. The impersonator almost succeeded, but made a critical error and was discovered at the last second, before he could carry out the deed. 

“This attempt on the king’s life rocked Minimaterra to its foundations. The king suspected that the sorcerer had been sent by the king of Giganterra to destroy his reign, though the truth remains obscured to this day. He became intensely paranoid, perceiving an enemy in every face. He declared anyone that used magic to be his enemy, and a witch hunt began. Sorcerers were rooted out by the royal guards and exterminated en masse. They were burned at the stake or chained to heavy stones and drowned in lakes. Most died, but some managed to flee. Giganterra, as an enemy to Minimaterra, accepted the refugees with open arms. 

“The king of Giganterra saw a golden opportunity to eliminate a powerful rival, once and for all. He pledged to protect all sorcerers from persecution, in exchange for their undying loyalty. They swore fealty to the royal Hardon bloodline in perpetuity through a magical blood oath, one that would literally boil their blood in their veins if they ever betrayed the king. In this way, they were finally allowed to practice their magic in the open, but they were bound in service to the kingdom. 

“Giganterra and its new allies now had a common hatred for Minimaterra, and a common goal: to exact revenge, and bring the mighty kingdom to its knees. The sorcerers pooled their resources together, transforming their bloodthirsty grudge into a catastrophic punishment that would curse the kingdom eternally. This curse was a terrible poison that tainted the air, the water, the land, the plants, the animals, and the people. The once prosperous giant kingdom was reduced to a speck, shrunk down until the people were less than a finger’s length in height, minimized into complete insignificance. The kingdom was disastrously crippled. 

“Any living creature that entered this wretched kingdom would permanently shrink, including other giants. The only people exempt were the sorcerers themselves and their allies tied by blood magic, those who acted on behalf of Giganterra’s king. In order to prevent the enchantment from spreading, or Giganterra’s subjects from foolishly trespassing into the bewitched land and shrinking, the giant king built a wall around the territory. The miniaturized kingdom fell under his ownership, and he could do with the tiny people as he pleased. 

“Giganterra’s king was ecstatic over his newfound power, and the total subjugation of his longtime rival, but he had one problem. He, too, feared the horrifying power of the sorcerers after witnessing the impossible miracles the magic had wrought firsthand. He harbored the same prejudice in his heart towards magic as the wider populace. While the sorcerers had sworn a magical oath to serve him, he worried they would eventually find a way to break the spell, using their collective numbers, and rise against him. Before they could revolt, he cracked down while they were still helpless to resist and destroyed all the bloodlines except for one, the Ogreson bloodline. Their specialty was in potions and runic stones, a more restricted form of magic, so the king reasoned that they would have more difficulty deposing him. He still wished to harness their power for his own use. 

“The remaining sorcerers were extremely bitter over the king’s betrayal, but there was nothing they could do. They did not have the ability to break the oath, contrary to what the mistrustful king believed. The king eventually died of old age, and generations passed. Future kings did not release the remaining sorcerers from their blood oath, but they did seek to make amends, giving them special privileges and luxuries, as well as the respect they felt they deserved. Over time, the fractured alliance was restored. 

“Minimaterra’s fate was dependent upon the whims of the current ruler. Some kings were more benevolent and allowed the miniature kingdom to conduct its own affairs and flourish, while others went mad with power and demanded tribute and slaves. The kingdom was regarded more as a farm to extract harvest, and the people as commodities. The history was lost to the sands of time, and the people of Giganterra forgot that the citizens of Minimaterra were once giants, just like them.” 

Milton trailed off, closing the book solemnly. Ronny and Bianca sat in stunned silence, spellbound by the revelation. Bianca still held her human toy between her teeth, furrowing her brows in contemplation. 

“So... the humans really are people, just like us giants,” Ronny said quietly. His doubts from that morning had been shattered in an instant. 

“Correct,” Milton affirmed. 

Bianca spat out her human slave, stuffing him vindictively into her cleavage. “Well, it sounds like they deserved their fate!” she declared. “They messed up! They shouldn’t have made such foolish decisions!” 

“Perhaps the rulers in charge,” the tutor replied coolly. “But the whole kingdom?” 

“Ab... Absolutely!” Bianca insisted, though her tone lacked determination. “Plus, this happened thousands of years ago, right? I’m sure they’ve regressed in development since then and acclimated to their role in the natural order. Their size marks them as our inferiors, our prey. Obviously. End of discussion.” She crossed her arms with a pout. 

“What do you think, Ronny?” Milton asked, directing his attention to the prince. 

Ronny didn’t answer right away. He also had his arms crossed, folded on his desk as he leaned forward stiffly so his lacerated back didn’t rub on his chair. “I don’t know,” he mumbled faintly. 

Before Milton could respond, Leon came into the room. “Sorry to interrupt,” Leon began. “King Richard sent me to supervise the lesson and check up on the progress of…” He stopped, trailing off as he spied the book on the table. The color sapped out of his waxen face. 

“What’s the matter?” Milton inquired. Leon didn’t answer, but began compulsively wringing his hands in a nervous tic. “Is there a problem?” 

“Um… class is dismissed!” Leon announced, a bit too loudly for the compact room. The royal siblings didn’t question the order, not wanting to be in class anyway, and readily marched out. Leon peeked out the door in their wake, checking the hall warily before closing the door. 

“Put that away!” he hissed. “And don’t let King Richard know you found it! Or shared it with his heirs!” 

“Why not?” Milton argued. “What’s so wrong about having knowledge? Are you suggesting to me that the prince and princess shouldn’t know the history of their own country, and the subservient territories?” He kept his voice level and calm, but inside he was boiling with indignation. As a teacher, he believed willful ignorance to be the worst form of blindness. 

Leon groaned softly. “It’s not that I disagree,” he elaborated, in a gentler tone. “But King Richard wishes to keep them in ignorance. If he finds out you told them…” He gulped. “He won’t be happy.” 

Milton sighed. “Pure folly,” he muttered. 

“Additionally, he will never allow you to leave his service if he knows that you possess such secrets. Why do you think I’m still here? Despite it all?” The corners of his mouth twitched and he clinched his teeth. “I mean… I’m here for my own reasons as well. I do what I can…”  

He ground his teeth as the familiar rotten taint of guilt over his complicity spilled into his gut, burning and festering into an ulcer. All the abominable things he’d done, in service to the king: kidnapping defenseless humans, arresting people, conscripting people into the king’s service, always being wrapped around the monarch’s finger, whispering into his ear like a snake, even as the treacherous snake of his own creation slithered around his own throat, tightening the noose and readying him for a trip to the gallows—it all made him ill, dreadfully ill. At the end of the day, though, he couldn’t leave, even if he desired to. So, he did what he could, by giving sensible advice that he sincerely hoped would steer the king to a more righteous path. It was the best he could do. His soul was condemned to damnation in the afterlife, with all he’d done, but he at least hoped to save others from a gruesome fate in this life, and wash some of the gallons of blood off his hands. 

Milton folded his eyebrows together. “You do what you have to do, Leon. And I’ll do what I have to do.” Exactly what that was, Milton wasn’t sure. What he did know was that he would not be so easily threatened or deterred. He was becoming invested, and he wasn’t the type to give up so easily. He knew he’d be visiting the library again today, without a doubt. 

Leon gave him a significant look. “Tread carefully, Milton. And remember… I am the eyes and ears of the king. I have to report what I’ve witnessed here today, as we cannot trust the prince and princess to stay quiet. But I will protect you, this time. Next time… you may not be so lucky. You’ve been warned.” 

Chapter 34

Tag List: @tinycoded360 @yummynomms

[ihopesocomic]

I think what a lot of people who have issues with you (aside from the youtube lion show stans) is that you dont baby people

People ask for obvious spoilers and you just say "we'll see!" (Unless its been asked several times in which case you explain that)

People try to push for bigotry to be in your comic which you wont stand for

People refuse to actually read the comic and want it explained and you have to put your foot down and tell them to read the comic

Ect ect ect ive never seen you guys get unreasonable with any messages, angry? Short? Sure some of the anons you get are like "why is hope have 3 legs?" Its completely understandable to be angry at messages like that

Yea that's pretty much the vibe we get too tbh. But we're not gonna apologize for having standards and we're not going to change how we present ourselves if it means putting in extra mental energy to be overly polite to bad faith actors or people who just simply ignore what we put out unless its addressing them personally.

You mentioning the spoilers incident is interesting because the person who brought that up would later state that spoilers weren't their issue at all, just us being "condescending" because they made the personal choice to read our neutral responses as such. Or us using 'lol' whenever we indicate we're being light hearted. Because not everybody who uses 'lol' is being snarky or rude.

Ultimately, being given the benefit of the doubt would go a long way instead of people automatically assuming we're being nasty or "unprofessional" because of things like 'they criticized something I enjoy" or "Well, I didn't like that they weren't bowled over by an ask I sent two years ago' or just anything that happened years ago LOL

Anyway. Some people may be fine with spoiling the whole story of their project, but not us. We're having a lot of fun keeping people guessing, especially if they guess correctly and their theory is proven in a future chapter. We do big high fives when that happens lol

The people who outright demand inclusion of bigotry are especially confusing because at best its people thinking our one little comic that's not-that-popular-actually constitutes as erasure of the queer/disabled struggle. And at worst it's people who somehow can't find value in entertainment unless it's misery porn. And both of these instances they claim the existence of IHS in its current form takes away from the countless already-existing content that covers both, or somehow shames people for including it in their own story when we've never said such a thing. Anything we've said either applies to us personally or we're criticizing mainstream media that takes our experiences and makes them palatable to a mainstream audience. (At it's funniest it's nerd fans who criticize our comic for being a knock-off of MP while in the same breath complain that it's not doing the same thing as MP)

And an insincere sorry in advance to people who want us to spoon-feed them information in the comic. I was under the impression that when you saw a web comic, you had intentions on reading it. Heck, we have a dub now, you don't even have to read anymore technically. But I value my time too much to explain every single detail that may go missed in a chapter. Some stuff we feel confident in our readers piecing together on their own because we respect their intelligence, and most times there's no incorrect conclusion to arrive to because leaving some things up to interpretation is better than over explaining it. But maybe I'm just a meanie. - Cat

[slugdragoon]

RPG Role Analysis Series #15 - Mother 2/Earthbound

Mother 1 analysis here

Ness - Ness' stats are a little bit different than Ninten, opting instead of perfectly balanced stat growth to give him the stats of a secondary damage-dealer role as the character with the best Offense next to Poo, but also the best ability to get critical (SMAAASH!!) hits. That's actually the same as Ninten, but Ninten got it by default by having a base stat total so much higher than Ana and Lloyd that "balanced" was really strong. Ness also has a higher base stat total, but the gap is closer here and Ness's stats actually have an emphasis on critical physical hits, and if anything, is a bit slow compared to Ana and Poo, so it feels like more of a choice here.

However, when looking at Ness's PSI ability list, he's also a flavour of support PSI user, much like Ninten. Ness has HP-healing moves, both more of them and faster than Poo, but gets status-healing abilities later and can't guarantee revival of party members to full health (but has a 75% change to do it to half-health). Ness can also do single target shields. His signature offensive ability is a multi-target, no-element wave of PSI that might decrease enemies' resistance to PSI attacks. Ness is the only character to be able to put enemies to sleep or paralyze them, or use PK Flash which does a random detrimental effect (status and instant death among them). This is a major change from Ninten who gets no offensive PSI at all (but who could still hit really hard). I think Ness, even more than Ninten is an all-rounder. He really can do everything just a bit worse than the best. Maybe a little more luck-based, too, given his gamble on revival, gamble on PK Flash, gamble on criticals instead of consistent high damage like Poo. Effects like PK Flash, Hocus Pocus (Dragon Quest), and Metronome (Pokemon) always make me think of a wild mage, but Ness is deep into healing too. A wild cleric maybe?

Paula - So I realized my memory was faulty, because although Ness, Paula and Jeff are very clearly modeled after Ninten, Ana, and Lloyd, Paula isn't much like Ana mechanically at all. Paula has the same emphasis on being the party's PSI whiz kid with the highest IQ, like Ana, but notably uses it entirely for combat. She's fast too, but isn't using her Speed to go first as a healer and stabilize the party. Paula uses Fire, Freeze, and Thunder to attack her enemies, and she's kind of a glass canon with miserable defensive stats. She can also drain PSI from enemies, buff your Offense and Decrease enemies' Defense, all of which are pretty aggressive abilities. The support skill she does get is a PSI nullifying or reflecting shield, depending on the rank, like any good dueling wizard. No status effects though, which always makes me think more battlemage than black mage. The exception to her lack of healing and her inability to deal status effects are the random results of her Pray ability, which really can't be described in any other way than a wild magic effect that covers many scenarios, a small fraction of the time, randomly.

Jeff - Jeff get the exclusive ability to Spy, which give you information on the enemies' Offense and Defense, a PSI weakness, and any items they might drop, which allows you to take them after battle. I wouldn't say the looting ability suggests thief at all for Jeff, as you can't take the item and run, and I think that distinction makes the difference, but the other side of Spy is much like Goombario or Goombella from the Paper Mario series. In terms of using items to attack, Jeff is a lot like Lloyd from the first game, but with a larger set of items. Unlike Lloid, some of them have no chance to break after use, so become his defacto attacks, and he's less about inventory management, despite still using Bottle rockets. Jeff's tools also can drain HP and debuff and remove shield from everyone, including the party. That last one, plus the inherent HP-splitting effect of draining moved makes Jeff a character than levels the playing field, in theory. Reset buffs when they get out of hand, and in terms of HP, take from the rich to give to the poor. OK, so maybe he is a thief of a different kind, but I would overall call Jeff a tactical scholar/scout type who can read enemy weaknesses and choose the best moment to strike with, often limited use items, but in the meantime keeps the party from getting in a bad tactical position.

Poo - You would think Poo, a martial artist, would be a lot like the remaining character from Mother 1, Teddy who was a huge physical damage dealer, and Poo can hit the hardest of anyone in Earthbound, but he can also use PSI this time. Poo is the best at fixing status effects and reviving party members, though a bit slower at learning HP-healing abilities than Ness, and he gets multi-target PSI Shield while Ness can only apply it one party member at a time. The difference between the usefulness of this is even greater in a game with 4 party members instead of 3. Poo can also confuse enemies, guarantee fleeing from battle, and drain PP, and attack with PSI, but his damage output won't be as good as Paula's until he gets PK Starstorm. Poo has the Mirror ability to copy a move from an enemy for one turn. Honestly I don't think that one is very notable, but it's like a magical counter ability, fitting for a martial artist. I feel like it's common to see monks get status-healing in JRPGs, like Chakra in Final Fantasy, and everything else about Poo's design says monk, plus they sometimes get confusion as a physical ability like dazzling them with your fast strikes, and Poo is the fastest. However, mass-party shielding and full revival is so strong that he has strong protection cleric energy as well.

[jedi-enthusiast]

Ok, here's the post I promised detailing why I take issue with Ahsoka's decision to send Kanan to find Rex in Rebels.

Disclaimer: This is not me "hating" on Ahsoka, this is just me being critical of a couple of her decisions.

To start off: Ahsoka knows that Kanan is a Republic Era Jedi, and common sense tells us that if someone was a Jedi during that time, they were almost 100% certain to have faced the clones during Order 66. Ahsoka may make stupid decisions sometimes, but she is not stupid. It was not lost on her that Kanan, only old enough to have been a padawan at the time (if she didn't recognize him from around the Temple), probably saw his master get brutally murdered.

Now, she might not know the details like we do, but it's made very clear that Kanan has definitely not healed from Order 66. Grand Inquisitor literally spells it out for us by taunting Kanan about his master's death and talking about Kanan having nightmares because of it, with Kanan being near tears and clearly blaming himself when he says that her last words to him were "run."

It is still very much an open wound for him and Ahsoka knows this, even if she isn't clear on the details.

"How does Ahsoka know this?" You might ask.

"You must trust him." - Ahsoka repeats this phrase over and over to Kanan in the beginning of the episode. She offers no other explanation or information except "hey this droid can track my friend" and "trust my friend." Nothing else.

Why would she say that, unless she knew that Kanan was going to react badly?

Now, even if Kanan was absolutely the only person possible who could've done this mission (which he wasn't), my main issue is that Ahsoka didn't give Kanan the informed choice of whether he wanted to go on the mission or not. She withheld information from Kanan so that he would go on the mission without a fuss, knowing that he would probably change his mind if he knew that her "friends" were clones.

"How would she know that?" - You don't withhold information like that for no good reason. If she didn't think Kanan would put up a fuss, or if she actually cared about giving him a choice on whether or not to face the men that helped murder his family, then she would have given him the full story and not just some vague message of "trust him."

("But Jedi-Enthusiast, the clones didn't want to kill the Jedi, they were forced to!" - Yes, we--as the audience--know that and so does Ahsoka, but Kanan clearly doesn't. It's shown in the episode that he obviously thinks the inhibitor chips were an excuse, but not the actual reason.)

Ahsoka's decision to withhold this information is not just shitty, but it's also really stupid.

What if Kanan's PTSD manifested like Wolffe's did?

Wolffe's first instinct upon seeing a Jedi was to kill first, ask questions later, until Rex managed to ground him.

What if Kanan's first instinct upon seeing clones was the same? Or, better yet, what if he wanted revenge for his master's death and decided to just kill them anyway?

She was lucky that Kanan's first response to seeing clones was shock, fear, anger, defensive position and not shock, fear, anger, violent response to seeing his family's murderers.

Overall, I just think she should've given him all of the information and allowed him to make an informed choice about whether or not to go instead of just letting him blindly walk into a situation that would remind him of his trauma.

[umbral-reign]

There is a post that comes across my dash every so often which talks about the two fundamental kinds of tragedies: the story that is tragic because it was always going to end in sorrow; and the story that is tragic because it didn't *have* to end in sorrow.

The latest episode of Wheel of Time (2x07) is, I think, an example of the latter - and yet, at the same time, I think it was a tragedy that was *destined* to happen.

I know there are theories concerning Compulsion having been used on Siuan (and possibly some other theories about why she acted as she did in Cairhien), and I do not at all want to discount them because honestly it would make sense. But, taking the events of the episode at face value - as much as I hate it, and as much as I personally wish it had gone a little differently, I do think that the way Moiraine and Siuan's conflict culminated was a horrible, tragic example showing just how toxic, damaging, and outright dangerous the fundamental traditions of the White Tower (and even culture of the Aes Sedai) are and have become.

But I'm getting a little ahead of myself.

I do think that this episode, more than any of the others yet, suffered from the limited episodes Rafe/the writers were given to work with. It felt rushed, and we didn't get the chance to breathe with any of the characters in the really intense and honestly critical emotional scenes (e.g. the scene at the beginning where Moiraine and Siuan talk).

And it's there - the first scene with Moiraine and Siuan - that I think the tragedy that was to come was irrevocably decided. Because if Siuan had stopped, had listened, had given Moiraine the time she needed to be able to talk about what was happening, I think the whole mess could have been avoided. But Siuan didn't.

And I understand why, I think. Siuan was afraid and hurt. To her point of view, Moiraine had made it clear that she had cut her out of her confidence and counsel. Moiraine had been purposefully neglecting to share critical information with Siuan, and that information was very impactful on her ability to fill her role in the plan. To Siuan, I'm sure it absolutely looked like Moiraine had already broken faith with her - had already decided it wasn't *them* trying to find and protect and ready the Dragon Reborn, but *Moiraine* alone. Whether Siuan thought that choice was made from pride, grief, or Moiraine distrusting/distancing herself from Siuan, I don't think it would matter really. To Siuan, the outcome was the same.

It wasn't her and Moiraine against the world anymore. It was her, and Moiraine, and the world.

And Moiraine had proven herself incapable - at least, that's what it looked like.

There were plenty of ways that this could have been avoided. Moiraine could have been more open and forthright. Lan could have told Siuan about his suspicions regarding Moiraine's stilling. There are likely things that Alanna or even Verin could have said that would have inclined one (or the other, or even both! all three of them!) to have made different choices.

But there, I think, is the reason that this tragedy, while it could have been avoided, was destined to happen all the same - in one form or another, even if not that exact time and place and between those very specific women.

Because the Aes Sedai value secrecy and personal agenda above all else. Even if those secrets and those agendas are in the service of something else, something greater - a perfect example, of course, being Moiraine searching for the Dragon Reborn - the Aes Sedai do not trust each other. They cannot. Because their lives, their very society and community, is built on secrecy, on lies-spoken-as-truth, on politics and power and hidden agendas. They are at war against themselves, and not just because of the Black Ajah. They are at war against themselves because the White Tower does not allow honesty, trust, or open loyalty between its Sisters - ever.

And that is why, in the end of it all, I think the White Tower and the Aes Sedai, at least as they exist right now, need to be razed. Because how are those who are meant to protect and guard and guide the world able to do so, if they cannot even trust *any* of their own sisters to do the same for them?

That is why, while the tragedy of this episode could have been forestalled, maybe even avoided - it was destined to happen all the same.

But it hurts - so goddamn bad - that it had to be here, and now, and between Siuan and Moiraine.

[annah-kitathryne]

Thinking about Batgirl (2000) so far [I just finished issue 44]

Cass knows who Alpha is. Who he is as Alpha but who he is without it. She sees people as a base level of good. People are never born evil. They are not born killers. She sees everyone as redeemable. She has a great length of empathy and compassion for others. Where a government agent could have been turned in, she gave him a ticket out of there. She gave him a chance to start over. Where she sees a man who has great capacity to do evil, she sees good. Alpha, without his memories, is a good person. A person who felt sick at the idea of having used a gun against someone else. Even when he turns against her at the sight of the bomb, she offers empathy and a second chance. She offers what she herself has been given.

Having a great capacity for compassion even for those many wouldn't hesitate to punch is admirable. An outstretched hand for a second chance, an Oliver branch, an open palm. The number of people she does good for simply by not fighting is amazing.

So many times, the fandom looks at the bats as violent forces who hit and punch their problems away. She is likely to first look for a different option. She said Alpha was dead. In a way, he was. He stopped being Alpha. Ergo, he was dead.

Her ability to fight, control a battlefield, and understand the next move of those around her is frightening and awe-inspiring, but her ability to read people. To see people and know people and offer the same thing she was given? To look for peace? That is something that everyone should aspire to be.

Cassandra didn't forgive herself for the person she killed when she was eight until she died and was brought back to life. Even then, she lives with that moment. With the reality that she killed someone. She couldn't find it in her heart to forgive herself, yet she finds it to reach out for peace with others who have comparatively done way worse. She has a death wish, but she will not impart that death wish onto others.

She is frightened on her ability to quickly move to murder agin. When she is hit with a token that drives the victim to come up with a scenario where they would commit murder, the others who were hit took minutes even an hour. It took her seconds. That frightens her. Even with the information that it can take seconds to drive someone to kill, someone who is so against killing holds the sacredity to life at such a high standard that she reaches out to others.

When she and Batman travel to capture Doctor Death, the first thing she notices is the people who are suffering, and she looks devastated. It's the first thing she points out when Batman asks her to report what she found out. What she knows. When she and Black Wind are talking about what happened to his home village, she holds great compassion and empathy. An understanding. She looks to prevent killing. She looks to listen in whatever way she can. She wants to help. To do something.

So when asked what Cassandra's greatest traits are? I would say her compassion to others and the deep amount of empathy that connects her to the world around her. They make her a better person and a better fighter. She is self-critical to the point of creating a hubris, but she tries to remain fair to others.

Oftentimes, throughout the Batgirl (2000) series, she seems upset and critical of Batman's choices. As if he isn't doing enough, as if he is failing the standard of the symbol the both of them wear. She doesn't voice in any form these criticisms (not yet), but it's there. It's there in the way she gives an agent a false identity to leave, it's there in how she hides what happened to Alpha, it's there in the outcome of the little girl and her their father, it's there in how she feels like she wasn't foing enough.

Cassandra will redefine what the Bat symbol means. She creates a new standard for it. She is so much more than what she is confined into being. She is doing much more than she seems to think she is. She has traded one abusive father for a hypocritical one. She is the worst of both of them but will be better than both of them. She is her mother's daughter, not that she knows it yet. She is so much more than a daughter. She is more than who is related to by blood or choice, but it has defined her. Her past, her present, her future.

'Perfect for a year, or mediocre for eternity'. She chose to be perfect and die because then she would be able to do the most good possible in that time.

Being Batgirl, embodying the symbol is who she is, but she doesn't forge anything outside of the mask. They are one and the same. She is Batgirl, she is Cassandra. She would be helping doing the best she could without the suit anyway. The suit doesn't make her who she is anymore than being Cain's daughter.

She is confined in Gotham. She is so much more than Gotham. She has the compassion and empathy to help the world if she wanted to. Gotham is one place, and she is one person, but in many ways, she is starting to grow beyond what Gotham can offer her.

She would make an amazing Batman. A better Batman. She wants the symbol because it's the mission she dedicated herself to. However, she is so much better than what the symbol offers. She is so much better than what David Cain, or Lady Shiva, or Bruce Wayne want from her.

She redefined herself, the symbol, and could redefine the future. One open hand and acts of empathy and kindness at a time. With a far share of action and kicking ass along the way.

[drdemonprince]

Hey Doc, any advice on how to determine at what point something crosses the line from me struggling with nueroconforming communication and becomes discrimination?

Context:

I'm out trans at work but have not disclosed my autism. I am constantly getting tone-policed and told I don't communicate well. I keep implementing feedback and communicating as clearly as I can with the criteria I am given, and I keep getting ignored.

When I'm blunt I'm told I am being harsh and need to be softer. When I'm soft I'm told I need to be more blunt to get my point across. When I'm detailed in asking for something I'm told I need to be more brief if I want people to actually read my requests. When I'm brief my requests are ignored entirely and unless I produce screenshots or email chains I'm told I never asked at all. ETC. No matter what I get ignored until the minor issue I was flagging becomes a huge emergency, and then I am asked why I did not say anything sooner.

While this pattern of being ignored has happened to me many times at past workplaces, there were never complaints about my communication skills when I was closeted and boymoding, people just admitted they ignored me and it was their fault. However this is with a new company than the one I worked at before I was out so I'm having a hard time telling if I'm being fucked with for being trans or if this is just the "normal" 'tism office experience but the blame is being shifted to me at this new place. I want to take feedback and learn to be a clearer communicator but starting to feel like my communication is not the issue.

Note: this is not a sexism thing because I have two coworkers and one supervisor who are cis women that do not have this problem, everyone listens to them.

Thanks so much, been pulling my hair out over this for a year now and feel like I'm going crazy.

This is a very, very common experience for trans femme people -- and it is absolutely caused by transmisogyny. I have noticed that trans women truly cannot win. When they explain information carefully to try and educate others, they are accused of being condescending, inaccessible, and difficult to understand. When they cease trying to be heard by people who willfully refuse to hear them, they get criticized for not being approachable or a team player. They're penalized for assertiveness, being told that it's too masculine, and then if they're passive, they get completely ignored.

You are not crazy. You are not making the wrong choice or communicating poorly. You are being targeted by a pervasive systemic bias, and there's probably very little that you could do to make it not happen to you.

A friend of mine once told me that when they were in kind of an awkward-feeling phase of their transition, people suddenly stopped laughing at their jokes. Cashiers, coworkers, random acquaintances at parties, and other people they had easily charmed in the past would suddenly react as if they were not there. Instead of even acknowledging their remarks, my friend was met with a completely neutral stone-faced expression.

For my friend, this phase eventually dissipated and their transition progressed and they arrived at a place where they felt more comfortable and other people found them easier to read by binary, cissexist norms. They still had to deal with sexism in their highly male-dominated workplace, but after a certain point, they became an acknowledgeable human again.

This wasn't about passing as cis, not exactly anyway, because my friend actually never passed as cis ever in their life, not even before their transition. But it was about legibility and their social positioning as a trans femme. When their transition was obviously a thing that was happening but which cis people didn't know how to read or respect, my friend dealt with the full force of transphobic prejudice, and it did ebb a bit once they arrived at a place where they were both more comfortable in themselves, and (probably more importantly, unfortunately) other people were more comfortable with them. The best way I can explain it, from what they told me, was that it was a combination of transmisogyny and hatred of nonbinary and gender-nonconforming people.

It was horrific and unfair that they had to pass through that, and of course many nonbinary and trans femme people live in that area of dehumanization and isolation for all of their lives. But I felt that was a worthwhile anecdote to add, because in some ways it has some parallels to what is happening to you. It might be that gradually people start treating you better, in line with more everyday workplace sexism, as I've witnessed many trans femme people eventually get professionally slotted into a more collectively accepted feminine role after being disrespected for many months or even years. But it does not always happen either, and even when it does, it was after enduring a ton of abuse and learning how tentative people's acceptance always really was -- and there's no unknowing that and unliving it once you have.

I think the workplace culture that you're in is treating you in an unacceptable way, and that you've already tried far more than you should have to in trying to make yourself legible to them. I don't have high hopes that anything you do could have the power to shift this toxically transmisogynistic culture. It's not how you are communicating, it's not how you look, it's not because you're Autistic, it's not because you're a woman -- it's because they are transmisogynistic and are penalizing you for their discomfort and lack of communication skills.

You can, I think, absolve yourself of any feelings of responsibility for managing how other people react to you. Hope can sometimes be a poison that we keep drinking over and over again, believing that we have control over whether or not it will harm us. It's okay to accept instead that nothing good will come of drawing from that well, and choosing not to imbibe it.

The choice for you, then, is how best to survive in an environment where you are treated this way. What can you do to document that you are performing the work as asked? Can you request examples or templates of 'correctly' done work, or explanations, so that you can point out that you are meeting expectations as they have been outlined? Are there people at work who have been treated unfairly too, whom you can communicate with?

(Transmisogyny, I have noticed, often parallels anti-Blackness in certain mechanisms that it uses. Many Black people are accused of being "confusing" to understand when they try to explain basic experiences of bias, or are seen as too "hostile" in similar ways, particularly Black women, and sometimes community can be built along those or other lines. If you have a union, I would certainly consider speaking to union leadership about this if you trust them. Be careful in how you go about agitating against pervasive problems like these at work -- the messenger is frequently punished. But, you might find some solace and some possibility of a culture change in the long-term if it is fought for alongside comrades rather than alone.)

Realistically, you will probably need to build an escape route for yourself. Whether that's by psychologically detaching from your workplace as much as possible, letting them fail for having not listened to you, and finding your belonging elsewhere, or whether that's by finding another job or quitting is for you to decide. I wish the options were better, but I think taking honest stock of what the problem is and accepting that it's not a social dynamic that you have the power to correct can be clarifying, at least. I hope people with similar experiences will sound off in the comments with advice or validation.

Best of luck, and I'm so sorry this is happening. Please keep me updated on what ends up working best for you.