#local chapter

[s3znl-gr3znl]

If you're receiving an hour lunch, that means you're spending 9 hours at work and being paid for 8.(for an average shift)

If you're understaffed, it means your company pay sucks/its cheaper to operate with fewer people and force them to work faster because "we're understaffed). Ergo, the company makes more money with fewer people working harder and faster, eventually resulting in burntout replaceableemployees.

Steal from your corporate company/chain store

As soon as it becomes cheaper to automate your job, your company will do so, usually with little to no warning.gz ,

Wage theft isn't just having wages withheld. it's also companies hoarding all the wealth YOU generate for the people at the top while paying barely enough for some people to get by.

[butchspace]

BDS has updated their calls for consumer boycotts to include: Chevron (and Texaco and Caltex by extension). Here is their most current boycott list.

They have also officially called for a boycott of McDonald’s. Here is their Instagram post on McDonald’s.

[steveyockey]

the makers of the documentary No Other Land have made it available to stream in North America for the next 3 weeks for $13.99 with all profits going to communities in Masafer Yatta 💗

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[mochii-derogatory]

oh bartender! one Stanford era Sam winchester night of self discovery please !!! and yeah sure make it unrecognizable as spn fanart thank you

[mysteriousmissme]

every older sibling around the world felt teru at this moment

[aunnokokyuu]

what if YOU were a poor little animation studio who kept straightifying the very homosexual moments between a tiger and a malnourished victorian child in order to make the anime more appealing to the general public. but THE MANGAKA HIMSELF said NO here’s a scene where said malnourished victorian child sensually bites the tiger’s neck while he’s transformed as a vampire and U HAVE TO ANIMATE IT THIS TIME BCS ITS IMPORTANT TO THE PLOT!!! now bones if you straightify that scene like you did to akutagawa telling atsushi to run you fool then you can trust that i’ll find you more than you trust in god

[damiel-of-real]

daily deltarune #95

all in a day's work

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 810: Attack

Pag 1

1: All teams begin to attack!! Staring ahead, they fix their helmets

Pag 2

1: I can feel the tension!!

2: It will start soon

3: The “fight for the lead”!!

4: What an incredible atmosphere

5: Even Kyofushi

6: And Hakogaku

Pag 3

1: have an overwhelming tension and pressure!!

Pag 4

2: They all seem huge!!

3: This is the Inter High's “lead”!!

4: This is “before the finish line”!!

5: ….. but

Pag 5

1: But I've come this far, too!! I won't falter at all, either!! I won't!!

2: Because everyone....

4: pushed my back!!

6: His pressure is rising!? But he's just from the selected team!!

Pag 6

1: His pressure....!!

2: Huh....

5: Kakaka Sugimoto

Unexpectedly... by chance... I guess he didn't come this far just by sheer luck!!

Yeah

6: Those are the eyes of someone who was entrusted with everyone's jerseys!!

Pag 8

7: Dammit....

8: In an instant!! In that instant we were focused on the selected team guy joining us, Kyofushi....

Pag 9

1: did as they pleased!!

Mi....!!

Pag 10

2: Miiiii

3: Good, Hacchobori-kun.... now you can keep pedaling as hard as you like, alright?

Puku

The instant when everyone is distracted by an unexpected arrival is the right timing for attacking, that's road racing's tactic!!

4: Puku!!

Even insects are useful sometimes!!

Pag 11

1: Chase them at full throttle!!

Pedal, Ninoshima!!

Pag 12

1: Yuuto!!

Yes!!

Oruaaaaa

Yon!!

Ou!!

2: So fast....

So fast.... mi!!

More....!!

3: The more you push the faster the bike go.... it's so much fun!!

Pag 13

1: We'll catch them!!

2: Let's rise our pace, Yuuto!!

Yes!

3: Uoooogh

4: Hayaa!!

5: We won't let you go, Idiot-suji!!

Pag 14

2: Ugh!! Midosuji was here just a moment ago, accelerated and got that far!?

3: Only for a moment.... I took my eyes off him only for a moment!!

Ugh!!

4: This is the “lead's battle”!!

So fast!!

Pag 15

1: This is a speed I've never experienced before!!

Kuaaaaaaa

2: Even though I'm chasing with all my strength

3: I'm falling behind!!

4: But I won't falter!! Cling to them!!

Pag 16

3: We caught up, Escape-suji

Pag 17

2: I caught.... up....

3: It was so hard

4: Puku.... I see....

As expected, I can't escape so easily from you... huh

5: You can't!!

8: But we're already before the finish line....

Pag 18

1: I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks... the way I do

Isn't it?

Puku!!

4: Naruko, on your left

Ugh, from there!?

5: “Attacking when someone arrives is road racing's tactic”!!

Huh!?

Pag 19

1: Now Hakogaku is attacking!!

Pag 21

1: Those guys opened a gap in a second, Higashimura-san!!

Dammit, pedal, Ninoshima!!

Yes!!

Chase them!!

2: Wa... waves of attacks...!!

Thi... this is... the lead!!

3: But I!!

5: Rise it...!! Steadily... your “pace”!!

[worokapi]

"僕は別に、お前が蛇の姿になっても好きだよ。" "I don't really care, I'll still like you even when you turn into a snake"

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Indigo is closing a beloved Chapters bookstore in Scarborough in a move that has employees and regulars alike accusing them of union busting. The Chapters at Kennedy Commons is not only the largest bookstore in Scarborough and one of the best Indigo locations in the city, it's one of three unionized Chapters locations in Toronto. According to Indigo (which owns Chapters), the decision to shutter the business was merely a fiscal one. In a statement to CBC Toronto, they suggested that the location's profitability wasn't up to par. But employees of the location, as well as some locals, aren't buying it. For some, the company's decision to close this specific location doesn't add up, leading to accusations of union busting from the store's employees and supporters.

Continue Reading

Tagging @politicsofcanada

[guardianlioness]

For those wondering about my deeply violent descent into Kn8, the series is, essentially, Shonen Genre Pacific Rim Fanfic with:

A Shonen Protagonist in his early 30s who is also a monster shapeshifter

Intergenerational friendships that are presented in a positive and interesting light

A different exploration of the “drifting with a Kaiju” subplot

Very, very little fanservice from the women in the cast and (at time of writing), no focus on romance

Strong undertones of mutual kindness and camaraderie

A villain with really strange motivations

It oozes sincerity and does not try to mock or deconstruct either its source material or its genre. It’s a deeply earnest rework of the ideas presented in Del Toro’s original film with a heavy Shonen flair and less mecha.

In short, it feels like it was custom-written for me.

[tlirswriting]

[They Colonized Mars, entry 4 // start here]

Venus:

Second planet from the sun, rendered uninhabitable 

Roman goddess of love, beauty, and sex 

> Atlas walks down the steps into Cythera’s, crossing the energy disruption field's threshold — a series of simple devices set up around the perimeter of the club to cancel out the city's artificial gravity — and he feels lighter, nearly weightless, the pressure lifting from his bones. 

> The air is warm and sweet in the hazy basement room, thick with candy-flavored nicotine and THC vapor. A tall, four-armed Venusian dances on a small stage against the far wall for a sparse crowd, glowing pink and glittering in the spotlight as she mouths along to the old 2260s pop hit Acid Rain. 

> The music thumps through Atlas, the beat reverberating up from the floor and settling into his chest, pulsing in his lungs. He unzips his jacket and makes his way to the bar at one side of the room to order two of his usual drinks; something strong and fruity with tiny paper umbrellas in it. 

> “This is what people do,” He says to SaM-B, talking over the bass as he sets one glass on top of it. 

> “I cannot drink; I have no mouth.”

> “That's okay, you just have to stand there, maybe you're… moody, and mysterious, or something. Or maybe you're shy, ‘cause it's your first time coming here.” 

> “And this is normal? I am doing it correctly?” 

> “Sure, yeah.” 

> Atlas leans his elbow on the bar and sips his drink, watching the spots of light spinning across the walls, watching the people — mostly Human — bobbing along in ripples or sitting at tables. Two bored-looking lesbians chat quietly in the same corner Atlas always sees them, but he never caught their names; nor the man in a leather harness with scars across his chest, or the girl with green hair that might have been natural. 

> “This place is usually packed tighter when I come here,” He explains. “Saturday night, people are rubbing against each other, snorting zidge in the bathroom…” 

> “This is fun?” SaM-B asks him.

> “Well, I like it.” 

> He downs the rest of his drink and makes his way to stand by the stage where a handful of people are crowded, staring up at the Venusian; she's ethereally androgynous, shimmering like a mirage, larger than life in her heels and moving like gravity forgot her. She calls herself Majel Stardust. 

> Alcohol works its fingers through Atlas, relaxing his shoulders, easing the knots in his back. He breathes — digs through his wallet for a 1.0 note — reaches out to her, hands touching briefly when she takes it, leaning close enough to smell her perfume and she tucks it into her bra. She's electric, dripping glitter, commanding attention; she's mile-long legs and hands you can't keep track of, she's power and grace, you'd almost believe the blasting music was her own voice. 

> It's all an illusion, but Atlas loves the show, dazzling lights mirrored in rows of bioluminescent spots along his cheekbones and down his arms, only visible when his defenses and inhibitions are lowered. 

> SaM-B holds perfectly still beside him, watching intently, its lights blinking in time with the rhythm. 

> She finishes her set, and disappears behind the curtain as the people cheer. A moment later, she's behind him, a hand lightly brushing his shoulder to spin him around. 

> “Atlas, baby!” Her voice is deep and rich like honey. “It's a Tuesday, what are you doing here?” 

> “Supporting artists,” He jokes as she leads him away towards a table near the back. “What are you doing, stealing me from the other queens?” 

> She laughs. “The next one's Mz. Tuna Piano, that bitch is always late.”

> He hums. “Yeah, she is.” 

> “But honestly, really,” She puts a right hand around his shoulders, and another right hand on his waist. “Talk to me. What are you doing here? You look like the train caught you.” 

> He sighs. “I, uh… I had a weird day at work, I couldn't go straight home. Needed to clear my head.” 

> She gestures to SaM-B after they sit down. “Who's your friend?” 

> “My weird day at work.” He grabs the drink balancing on top of it and takes a sip. “That, and somebody died again.” 

> “You gotta get out of there, honey; they'll eat you alive.” 

> “I will, soon, it's just…” He shakes his head. “And go where, y'know?” 

> “Here, maybe.” She sucks on a thin metal tube and blows a ring of pomegranate-scented clouds. “Anywhere. Doesn't matter much, does it?” 

> Atlas chuckles. “I'm not built for entertaining.” 

> “Some people like Martians, with your big brown eyes. You could grow your hair out…” 

> “No, really, I can't.” 

> She studies him for a moment, something knowing in her compound eyes. 

> “I'm gonna get out,” He repeats. “I have plans, I just need a little more time.” 

> She hums. “You want a hit?” She offers. “I hear sometimes humans get a kick out of CO2, makes ‘em dizzy — wonder what it'll do to you.” 

> “No, thanks; I'd feel kinda bad taking your air.” 

> “Suit yourself.” 

> He watches her curl her mandibles around her electric cigar, draw in a deep breath, and beckon him closer — he obeys, leaning in, and she tilts his chin up to press her mouth to his and blow; he breathes in concentrated oxygen, carbon filtered by her lungs, fresh and crisp, artificially sweet. He pulls away and giggles.

> “There,” She says. “You don't have to be guilty about it.” 

> SaM-B emits a high-pitched whine. 

> “Poor thing,” Majel chuckles. “Is it sentient?” 

> Atlas begins answering, “I'm pretty sure, yeah—” 

> “I wish I was you,” It beeps. 

> “I get that a lot, honey.” 

> He sips his drink and thinks about what it meant by that. 

> The night rolls on, soft around the edges, pleasantly dark and spinning like galaxies. 

>>

> Walking home, still buzzing, Atlas leans on SaM-B as they go — his body feels leaden and too-loose, metal pins digging into his flesh to keep his legs on straight — and he slurs: “D'you understand why I took you here?” 

> It beeps, “I think so.” 

> “My point…” The words swim in his head and roll clumsily off his tongue. “With all of this, is that there's more to being alive than your programming.” 

> They can see Mars’ two moons meeting in the middle of the sky through the top of the dome, dancing among silver ribbons of noctilucent clouds. 

> “I want a name,” It says.

> “Yeah?” 

> “I think Selene would be nice.” 

> “Yeah, alright.” 

> A beat. “Can I be a girl?” 

> “Sure, why not?” 

> “Thank you, Atlas.” 

> “You don't need my permission.” 

> It’s true, but she needs to hear it.

> They wobble along the street under holographic advertisements shimmering in the artificial sky. 

> Atlas vaguely remembers getting on the train — rising up over the streets, city lights glowing trails around him — dozing off, and waking up when the brakes squeal at his stop. 

> Staggering out into the cold air again, he's hit by the wind, particles of sand scratching his face and sticking to the corners of his eyes. The storm is habitable inside the dome (outside, the winds are harsher, kicking up dust clouds miles high) but unpleasant enough that he quickens his pace the rest of the way home. 

Next >>

[wickjump]

im gonna start posting fanfic recs btw whenever i find good ones. both here and my (awfully barren) 18+ account. because there are so many good fics out there with so few hits and fewer kudos and sometimes no comments period and it SUCKS because i REALLY LIKE THEM A LOT.. and i hope that by linking them here and yelling at everyone to COMMENT DAMMIT they might actually do it

seriously though any comment means a lot. most people who read a fic don’t even give a kudos. even if the fic wasn’t top tier, if you didn’t dislike it, hand over some kudos!! and if you liked it, comment!!!! even if the comment is one singular heart emoji it will be appreciated. if the comment just says “great fic!” the author will be happy. your comment doesn’t have to be this long winded gushing or analysis.

so many authors quit writing or lose motivation because the comments are few and far in between or just sometimes nonexistent. trust me when i say authors don’t care about how long or cool or smart sounding your comment is i promise!!!

i hope that mmmaybe recommending fics and telling people to comment might help fics i really like get more support maybe. and i, points at you reading this, hope that you will listen!!!at least a little….at least sum kudos….

[twomiddlefingersforthehaters]

The ``4 people'' of Team 7 are enjoying the summer in the countryside. Kakashi in a casual clothes holding up a watermelon (it took me a while to spot him), Sakura watering 2 watermelon in the basket, Sasuke holding cool drinks in his mouth and sweating (he's the only one who's spotted sweating maybe because he's came from training to take a break and also it's a summer time it's hot), and next we have Naruto who lying next to a running table fan enjoying eating watermelon while looking at the Battle of Beatles he named as "Naruto and Sasuke".

Sasuke looking at Naruto eating watermelon with such a suggestive gesture with the bottle in his mouth. While Naruto doesn't seems to notice Sasuke as he is focused on the Beatles fight.

So here we have Sakura wetting herself as she looking at Sasuke, and Sasuke completely ignores her and looking at Naruto while doing something questionable with a bottle, and Naruto is enjoying the battle as he eats the watermelon....but he doesn't notice Sasuke's eyes on him.

the note here written in katakana words spelled ｢ナ｣ "na" & ｢サ｣ "sa"

to express the date in Japanese, the order is reversed compared to English: the year comes first, then the month and finally the day.

in japanese, date is wrote as:

{Day of the Month 日 [hi] · Month 月 [tsuki] }

７月３日 - July 3rd

３月７日- March 7th

3 in japanese is "San" and 7 is "Nana".

So, Sasuke- Sa -is 3 in Japanese - San

as for Naruto- Na- is 7 in Japanese- Nana

Therefore, Japanese consider (7th Month) July 3rd as the NaruSasu day, while (3rd Month) March 7th is the SasuNaru day.

The cover art depicts Sasuke and Naruto from the first part. The lantern-like thing in the center with "N・S" written on it.

[stromuprisahat]

Ivans loss: "soldiers aren't human beings" & "all grisha are soldiers" is probably what the author thinks. I still remember when RoW came out and someone asked Leigh Bardugo a very heated question about Fjerdans and she gave a strange justification (link below). She replied, no to making the reference (let's just respect that answer and let's say Fjerdans arent' what the question said they are - and I don't even want to type it out because it's like kicking a beehive and no good will come from it) Let's focus the issue of grisha = soldier = fair game Leigh justifies Matthias and Fjerda's actions by saying: @ 1:23 "Grisha are soldiers. they are weapons. they are ppl who are fighting back" But....SoC had Matthias and Fjerdans going after non-soldiers. They were quite literally hunting civilians, farmers, etc. in all the lands. "Pursuing rogue Grisha in other lands...liberating Grisha captives with the sole purpose of clapping them back in chains and sending them back to fjerda for trial and execution..." next page captive speaking "We are not criminals...we are ordinary people - farmers, teachers. Not me Nina thought grimly. I'm a soldier. ...Did Leigh truly forget about the 15 innocent souls who were chained in the ship? 15 souls who were there just for being grisha? Does she not re-read her works at all????? x.com/hellcatdynes/status/1584699468536221697

That woman! (derogatory)

(Ivan post)

tw: I'm not gonna hold back in this reply as much as I usually manage. It might get vulgar and harsh.

I've seen this particular pile of shit while it was fresh and gods! I can't even begin to explain how sick it makes me. No wonder so many of her fans are a bunch of ignorant idiots.

Let's start with the icky bit- the whole quote:

... people have drawn parallels between Matthias and the drüskelle and the SS, and I don't think that's completely accurate. The Jews, who were put to their death in WWII were innocent. They were civilians! Their crime was being Jewish. Grisha are soldiers. They are weapons. They are people, who are fighting back, so though the drüskelle are hateful and carry a lot of prejudice with them, it is not the same as them going after innocent civilians. And I need to make that clear, because I would never write a Nazi/Jewish romance.

Honey, that's exactly what you did!

I won't shy away from that passage, because it pisses me off immensely.

... people have drawn parallels between Matthias and the drüskelle and the SS, and I don't think that's completely accurate.

So, here we go with this one- I'm entirely sure their uniforms and Brum's accomplishments have nothing in common with fucking Nazis. If you're colour-blind, or US-American, so you don't grow up with photos of that particular chunk of history in your fucking town, because those people in nice uniforms used to burn corpses of their victims just behind the walls. The crematorium is still standing btw. Daily visited by dozens of tourists.

Seriously- fuck respecting what she said! I possess reading comprehension! These atrocities happened around HERE! It's not just an ugly story for me! I grew up in town once used as Jewish ghetto, concentration camp and Gestapo prison, so yeah, I might be overly sensitive about how you choose to dress you genocidal murder club!

The Jews, who were put to their death in WWII were innocent. They were civilians! Their crime was being Jewish. Grisha are soldiers. They are weapons.

As you mentioned:

... The drüskelle had existed for hundreds of years, but under Brum’s leadership, their force had doubled in size and become infinitely more deadly. He had changed their training, developed new techniques for rooting out Grisha in Fjerda, infiltrated Ravka’s borders, and begun pursuing rogue Grisha in other lands, even hunting down slaving ships, “liberating” Grisha captives with the sole purpose of clapping them back in chains and sending them to Fjerda for trial and execution. ...

Six of Crows- Chapter 14

If I wanted to be extremely kind, I could assume this is just Ravkan propaganda- it's what Nina had been taught-, but later we see her experience:

“You’ll be tried for espionage and crimes against the people.” “We are not criminals,” said a Fabrikator in halting Fjerdan from his place on the floor. He’d been there the longest and was too weak to rise. “We are ordinary people—farmers, teachers.” Not me, Nina thought grimly. I’m a soldier. “You’ll have a trial,” said the drüskelle. “You’ll be treated more fairly than your kind deserve.”

Six of Crows- Chapter 14

The wording's rather obvious- it's not about herding up enemy soldiers, but hunting down another species, another race, another kind. That's exactly the type of reasoning Nazis used- Jews were something different, inferior. Dehumanization is a significant part of their ideology.

*takes several deep breaths, because that Cola I've just drank is about to make a re-appearance*

I'll point out another part- already in one of the links in this post, but:

Until a drüskelle had accomplished a mission on his own and been granted officer status, he was required to remain clean-shaven. ... “Good work is right,” one said in Fjerdan. “Fifteen Grisha to deliver to the Ice Court!” “If this doesn’t earn us our teeth—” “You know it will.” “Good, I’m sick of shaving every morning.” “I’m going to grow a beard down to my navel.”

Six of Crows- Chapter 14

Capturing people to have them slaughtered is a rite of passage for drüskelle. It's an accomplishment worth marking. Something to look forward to and boast about.

Grisha are soldiers. They are weapons.

What about non-combatant members of Second Army? Healers, "untrained" Materialki, Grisha working for nobles? Those are weapons too?!

Like- we've already established nobody cares about the free-range Grisha (unless it's drüskelle in need of promotion), but even Second Army includes those, who aren't the first line of defence! Who won't be used to be attacked.

They are people, who are fighting back, so though the drüskelle are hateful and carry a lot of prejudice with them, it is not the same as them going after innocent civilians.

I'll make it even more obvious- would you say rape doesn't count as such, when its victim learnt self-defense before it happened?!

Nice opinion, Leigh! Great message for the poor young vulnerable girls! Very empowering!

And this is one of those days I'm sorry they don't organize full-experience trips to places like my ex-hometown, because I'd gladly invite that woman, so I can accompany her visit with loud reading of specific quotes from her work.