#notion shortcuts

[suejannoreiga]

As someone with ADHD, I’m easily distractable sometimes. I can be hyper-focused on writing something and have a good idea mid-writing but leaving this page risks losing my 🍃flow🍃 and not writing down this bomb idea risks it evaporating, never to be caught again~

Since these buttons launched I’ve been OBSESSED with them. I love seeing them on others’ templates but the only personal use case I could think of is having them as shortcuts so my brain can get this idea out without getting distracted.

Learn how to create your own buttons in Notion

🟣 join The Commune: community for neurodivergent beings creating systems that finally work with them

🧑🏾‍💻 The Notion Concierge: custom Notion builds that work with your unique brain

[eossa]

Minitorial: shift+command+k not opening images in Figma

Recently, I had noticed the issue that when I was working in Figma and tried to open/place images, the keyboard shortcut shift+command+k was not opening an image but instead a search mask to search my space.

I was confused as to why it was doing this and assumed that maybe there was a bug where the same shortcut was used for two different tasks. However, when I clicked on "edit shortcut" in the search mask today, I was taken to the settings of Notion and not of Figma.

As it turns out, when you have Notion open in the background, even if the window is inactive and hidden, the shortcut shift+command+k is still called for Notion, despite actively working in another app.

Now, the simplest solution would be closing Notion entirely while working in Figma, but that's a hassle if you work a lot with both like I do. Instead, I went to settings -> my settings and disabled the toggle "activate direct search", which allows searching Notion via the shortcut even if the app is not active. Alternatively, if you want to keep this enabled (it is enabled by default), you could also set a new shortcut for opening Notion's direct search.

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TL;DR: Notion's direct search (enabled by default) uses the same keyboard shortcut as Figma does for opening images. As the direct search for Notion works even when the app is inactive, this can cause unexpected behavior. You can fix this by turning off the direct search feature or changing its shortcut in Notion's settings.

[gossippool]

sry if this's been asked before, but where/on what site/platform/etc do you write your fics?

hey!! i just use google docs!! it's the most convenient and easy to use for me since it's where i do literally everything else too LMAO and now since they have that new tab feature it's even better since i can separate my chapters

[komelliko]

manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader

summary: After Sunday spoiled your 'not-date' with Aventurine, he feels he still has to warn you about some things. wc: 1.6k - this is nsfw! cw for dubcon! fondling, masturbation, sexual fantasy a/n: The guillemets «» are still used to indicate Sunday's telepathy!

part 5 / part 6 (nsfw) / part 7 (nsfw) --- You insisted that Aventurine not walk you back home—It was hard to articulate one sole reason why. Sunday's confrontation was a large factor, though. It didn't feel right to throw him into more trouble like that—let him get the sweep, as he put it. You could brave the streets back to your apartment by yourself without much hassle, anyways. Very little of Golden Hour was left unlit, after all. You turn to look behind you. The feeling of still being watched crawls up your back like a creeping fungus, a sense of unease clinging to your spine all the way until it reaches your throat. But in the cacophony in golden light and bustling figures, you can't make anything out. You know who it is that's following you. You just pretend he's not there, and simply press on.

« But something tells you that you have to take another route. » You're not sure why...? So you stop, you steady yourself, and you try to figure out where you are and how long it is until you're on Glaux Avenue. « Something tells you that you have to walk behind the food truck and into the passageway between that jewelry store and that automobile dealer. » Hesitant, you trust the strange feeling, slipping behind the truck and into a dark passageway, two impenetrable walls of brick squeezing the thin line of the alley together, bins of waste and discarded belongings littering both sides. You don't understand what makes you think this will be a shortcut to Glaux Avenue. 

« But something tells you that if you just take a few more steps, just barely enough to no longer be in the light, just a few more, one more step... » You get the notion that someone familiar is behind you. You freeze in place, recognizing the exact sound of the footsteps calmly approaching you in great clarity. You turn a quarter of the way around, not yet enough to meet his eyes before— Sunday clasps a hand over your face. You feel your lips smushed under his palm, your front teeth against the cool cotton fabric of his white glove. "Listen to me for a moment," he commands. "Don't speak." You stay silent, eyes locked on the wall in front of you. You assume you'd be terrified out of your mind if you had it within yourself to be that way. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the surprise. Besides, you were sure making a fuss wouldn't do anything good. "No matter how I or any member of The Family may act around that man in public, I cannot stress to you how little you should trust him. From this moment forward, do not answer any questions he asks, do not accept anything he offers you, and by Xipe, do not ever let me find you fraternizing with him ever again." Oh. You swear you could almost break out laughing. This- This wasn't Sunday. Sunday had been unusual at times, sure, but it was all innocent (if uncomfortable) behavior. It's almost comical, you assure yourself, to hear such harsh threats come out of his mouth! That explains why you can barely believe what he's saying, after all. Nothing to do with being terrified of your employer—nothing of the sort. "...Awlrigh...?" "Are you not taking me seriously, [Y/N]?" You take in a sharp breath, even if it's stunted by Sunday's hand in your face. Frantically, you shake your head no. "Good. I'm glad you have returned to being reasonable." His hand lifts off your mouth, an awkward thread of saliva connecting your bottom lip to the damp stain of breath on the palm of his glove. Sunday closes his hand, almost as if he's tenderly holding the spot on his glove for safe keeping, before bringing it down to hold on to your waist. "[Y/N], you are one of the most important people in the entire Family. What you decide to do with your time impacts not just you, but the entirely of Penacony. Do you remember what I said about upholding our reputations?" "Yes, sir." "I meant every word of it." Both of his hands are now holding your sides, bringing you in to press your back up against him. "You must understand what the good people of Penacony would think of me if I let my dear assistant run off with a member of the IPC." Sunday takes in another breath as if he means to say more, but stops himself. You can almost feel his composure slip for a moment, and as you turn your head back to see what the matter is, you notice him looking around warily—Checking for witnesses. His right hand slowly and hesitantly ascends, wrapping his fingers around your breast, creasing the cloth of your blazer underneath his grip. Sunday barely stifles a groan, his other hand squeezing your side fiercely as if to steady himself. "I w- I would not consider myself a vengeful man, [Y/N]," he stammers, lightheaded with his own desire as he fondles you. "Nor would I consider myself a man who is jealous beyond reasonable means. It is not covetous nor avaricious merely to insist upon what is already mine." His last sentence is tugged almost into a hoarse cry, and he bites his tongue to suppress another groan.

Though he would be remiss to admit it to you at a time like this, Sunday understands what he is doing is unconscionable, and he hates himself for it. But there is simply no other recourse. In matters of temptation, his behavior only seems sinful on the imperfect surface. For temptation is the fledgling form of greed, of gluttony and corruption, but the source of that which drove him to take you in his hands and tortured him night after night with thoughts of defiling you was instead responsibility.

Sunday has an obligation to make his possession of you known to himself, to you, and most importantly, to others. Others like that Avgin scum who dared to try and steal you from him behind his back. More were bound to attempt similar foolish things if Sunday did not reassert his authority with proper haste. You feel Sunday's breath curl down the back of your neck as he moves your hair to one shoulder. He plants a kiss on the soft flesh of your neck, right where it meets the edge of your jaw, and you shudder at the feelings of his lips against your skin. "If I can't trust you to make wise choices with your time off, I might not be able to give you time off at all," Sunday whispers lowly in your ear, his tone dreadfully serious. "We don't want to worry about you getting in trouble, do we?" He pauses for a moment, before adding "I certainly don't." And just as his hands remove themselves from your body, you turn around and Sunday has vanished. ... ... ... ...

Sunday is able to think about little else once he reaches his quarters, and he shuts his door emphatically the moment he enters.

To alleviate his own misdeeds, it is imperative that he approach it in an orderly fashion. Sunday takes off his coat properly and hangs it on the third spoke of his coat rack. With his dorsal wings free to open, Sunday takes off his vest one arm at a time, folding it neatly and setting it on his dresser. Sunday rolls up the bottom hem of his shirt until it reaches his torso, then pulls the neck over his head, then extends his arms out to pull it off his body entirely—The shirt then folded neatly as well, and set next to the folded vest. As one last precaution, Sunday scans his quarters. Not a blind has been left undrawn, nor a door left cracked open, nor an object out of its usual place. Sunday listens to the sound of his own breathing for a moment, as it is his only company: It is labored, heavy with desperation, tortured with knowledge of Sunday's unfulfilled responsibilities. Sunday sits himself on the side of his bed, facing away from the door, and undoes his belt. Xipe will forgive him. Xipe will forgive him. That which torments him is much more than wanton impulse. The infraction of him spitting in his own palm and satisfying his own carnal urges is infinitesimal to the weight of Penacony's corruption. With no person to confess to but himself, Bronze Melodia of Xipe, Sunday has full authority to absolve himself of guilt. For a cause like his, his actions are no transgression. With the stories he's listened to, Sunday knows the habits of lesser men, and lesser men do worse daily without even a second thought. Sunday brings his other hand up to massage his face, his head rolling back from the feeling of his own hand stroking him. In due time, it would be your hand, soft and gentle and perfumed and perfect in ways he could barely fathom, the rhythm of your delicate fingers brushing against his smoldering-hot skin euphoric beyond his wildest imagination. Sunday falls back onto his own bed, one foot lifting to dig its heel into the mattress as his movements grow more fervid at the thought of your face, your voice, the kind look in your eyes. Nothing short of taking you entirely could satiate him, and he knew it; There would be no other way to fulfill his responsibilities towards you. He bites his tongue, holding back grunts a more sinful man would make carelessly, and dares not to buck his hips into his own hand like some sort of uncouth aberrant. Still, even as his tongue is held, your name is repeated in his thoughts like a desperate prayer. With the invocation of your name, he begs for mercy from this torture. With your name, he begs for release. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].

--- a/n: tumblr was fighting with me this whole fucking time and I finally figured out it was because of it that third sunday mind control sentence and for the life of me I could not tell you what was so bad about it so prevent me from posting this feedback is always appreciated! tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos @i-am-tiredd @8x9d @ruruize @herrscherofprocrastination

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Cognitive Bias

Cognitive Bias - a strong, preconceived notion of someone or something, based on information we have, perceive to have, or lack.

These preconceptions are mental shortcuts the human brain produces to expedite information processing—to quickly help it make sense of what it is seeing.

The many types of cognitive biases serve as systematic errors in a person’s subjective way of thinking, which originate from that individual’s own perceptions, observations, or points of view.

There are different types of bias people experience that influence and affect the way we think and behave, as well as our decision-making process.

Examples of Cognitive Bias

Confirmation bias. This type of bias refers to the tendency to seek out information that supports something you already believe, and is a particularly pernicious subset of cognitive bias—you remember the hits and forget the misses, which is a flaw in human reasoning. People will cue into things that matter to them, and dismiss the things that don’t, often leading to the “ostrich effect,” where a subject buries their head in the sand to avoid information that may disprove their original point.

The Dunning-Kruger Effect. This particular bias refers to how people perceive a concept or event to be simplistic just because their knowledge about it may be simple or lacking—the less you know about something, the less complicated it may appear. However, this form of bias limits curiosity—people don’t feel the need to further explore a concept, because it seems simplistic to them. This bias can also lead people to think they are smarter than they actually are, because they have reduced a complex idea to a simplistic understanding.

In-group bias. This type of bias refers to how people are more likely to support or believe someone within their own social group than an outsider. This bias tends to remove objectivity from any sort of selection or hiring process, as we tend to favor those we personally know and want to help.

Self-serving bias. A self-serving bias is an assumption that good things happen to us when we’ve done all the right things, but bad things happen to us because of circumstances outside our control or things other people purport. This bias results in a tendency to blame outside circumstances for bad situations rather than taking personal responsibility.

Availability bias. Also known as the availability heuristic, this bias refers to the tendency to use the information we can quickly recall when evaluating a topic or idea—even if this information is not the best representation of the topic or idea. Using this mental shortcut, we deem the information we can most easily recall as valid, and ignore alternative solutions or opinions.

Fundamental attribution error. This bias refers to the tendency to attribute someone’s particular behaviors to existing, unfounded stereotypes while attributing our own similar behavior to external factors. For instance, when someone on your team is late to an important meeting, you may assume that they are lazy or lacking motivation without considering internal and external factors like an illness or traffic accident that led to the tardiness. However, when you are running late because of a flat tire, you expect others to attribute the error to the external factor (flat tire) rather than your personal behavior.

Hindsight bias. Hindsight bias, also known as the knew-it-all-along effect, is when people perceive events to be more predictable after they happen. With this bias, people overestimate their ability to predict an outcome beforehand, even though the information they had at the time would not have led them to the correct outcome. This type of bias happens often in sports and world affairs. Hindsight bias can lead to overconfidence in one’s ability to predict future outcomes.

Anchoring bias. The anchoring bias, also known as focalism or the anchoring effect, pertains to those who rely too heavily on the first piece of information they receive—an “anchoring” fact— and base all subsequent judgments or opinions on this fact.

Optimism bias. This bias refers to how we as humans are more likely to estimate a positive outcome if we are in a good mood.

Pessimism bias. This bias refers to how we as humans are more likely to estimate a negative outcome if we are in a bad mood.

The halo effect. This bias refers to the tendency to allow our impression of a person, company, or business in one domain influence our overall impression of the person or entity. For instance, a consumer who enjoys the performance of a microwave that they bought from a specific brand is more likely to buy other products from that brand because of their positive experience with the microwave.

Status quo bias. The status quo bias refers to the preference to keep things in their current state, while regarding any type of change as a loss. This bias results in the difficulty to process or accept change.

How to Reduce Cognitive Bias

Even though cognitive biases are pervasive throughout every system, there are ways to address your bias blind spots:

Be aware. The best way to prevent cognitive bias from influencing the way you think or make decisions is by being aware that they exist in the first place. Critical thinking is the enemy of bias. By knowing there are factors that can alter the way we see, experience, or recall things, we know that there are additional steps we must take when forming a judgment or opinion about something.

Challenge your own beliefs. Once you’re aware that your own thinking is heavily biased, continuously challenge the things you believe is a good way to begin the debiasing process—especially when receiving new information. This can help you expand your pool of knowledge, giving you a greater understanding of the subject matter.

Try a blind approach. Especially in the case of observer bias, researchers conduct blind studies to reduce the amount of bias in scientific studies or focus groups. By limiting the amount of influential information a person or group of people receive, they can make less affected decisions.

Biases make it difficult for people to exchange accurate information or derive truths.

A cognitive bias distorts our critical thinking, leading to possibly perpetuating misconceptions or misinformation that can be damaging to others.

Biases lead us to avoid information that may be unwelcome or uncomfortable, rather than investigating the information that could lead us to a more accurate outcome.

Biases can also cause us to see patterns or connections between ideas that aren’t necessarily there.

Logical Fallacy vs. Cognitive Bias

Cognitive biases are often confused with logical fallacies.

A cognitive bias refers to how our internal thinking patterns affect how we understand and process information.

A logical fallacy refers to an error in reasoning that weakens or invalidates an argument.

Cognitive biases are systematic errors in a person’s subjective way of thinking, while logical fallacies are about the errors in a logical argument.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[sorcerer-felix]

Have finally started to see results as I build muscle but would love to be completely taken over my the transformation. Just completely lose myself, almost like I become a new person

The humid air hung thick and heavy, a stark contrast to the sterile chill of the gym Zach had abandoned for the afternoon. Sunlight dappled through the leaves of ancient oaks in the park, casting dancing shadows on the worn path where he performed his pull-ups. He stared at his reflection, the faint outline of biceps mocking his efforts. Months he'd dedicated to iron and sweat, yet the gains were frustratingly minimal. "I'll do anything to get stronger," he muttered to his reflection, a desperate plea hanging in the humid air.

Rounding a bend, he saw a figure draped in shimmering silk, lounging on a moss-covered boulder. "Felix?" Zach asked, recognizing the sorcerer from their brief encounter in town. Felix turned, a playful glint in his light blue eyes. "Ah, Zach! Come to admire the scenery?"

"More like, wallow in frustration." Zach slumped onto a nearby rock. "This whole muscle-building thing… it's not working." Felix chuckled, a light, airy sound. "Training alone? Oh, Zach, that's only half the battle. It's all about nutrition." "I know, carbs and proteins," Zach groaned, reciting the mantra he'd heard a thousand times. Felix waved a dismissive hand. "Such pedestrian notions! You need… blue caviar." Zach blinked. "Blue caviar? Where am I supposed to find that?" "Ah, that's the fun part." Felix's eyes danced with mischief. "Follow the river to the Emerald Falls. Step into the water, behind the cascade, you'll find a cave. It awaits there." "Wait, what kind of fish produces blue caviar?" Zach was already picturing himself wrestling some exotic sturgeon. Felix simply smiled, a knowing, infuriatingly vague expression. "Patience, Zach. Some things are best discovered firsthand." He rose, smoothing his silk trousers. "Good luck! And bring some caviar for me too." "Wait!" Zach called out, a million questions crowding his mind. But Felix simply smiled, a flash of something unreadable in his eyes, and disappeared into the dappled sunlight. "The Emerald Falls?" Zach muttered, a shiver crawling down his spine by the thought of the exhausting hole day long hike through the wilderness. Still, the promise of a shortcut to his dream physique was too tempting to ignore.

The weekend arrived, and Zach, fueled by Felix's cryptic promise, embarked on his quest. He followed the Emerald River, its waters shimmering under the canopy, deeper and deeper into the untamed wilderness.

Zach’s trainers crunched on the overgrown path, each step heavy with anticipation and a growing sense of fatigue. The Emerald River snaked before him, its waters shimmering under the dappled sunlight that pierced through the dense canopy. He swatted at a persistent mosquito, the buzzing a minor irritation compared to the ache in his muscles. A day's journey it had been, just as Felix had said, a day stolen from his weekend and dedicated to this… this bizarre quest for blue caviar. Finally, the path opened to reveal ancient mermen statues, their stone faces weathered by centuries of mist and spray. They stood sentinel on either side of the river, guarding the entrance to the Emerald Falls. Zach gasped and his heart pounded with excitement; he was close.

The water cascaded down moss-covered cliffs, a roaring curtain of emerald green. The air thrummed with the falls' power, a primal symphony that resonated deep within his chest. Fishing rod in hand, Zach approached the riverbank. He scanned the churning water, searching for any sign of sturgeon. This whole thing felt absurd. Blue caviar? Magical muscle growth? Yet, Felix's confidence had been unsettlingly convincing. He set up his fishing rod, the familiar action grounding him amidst the fantastical surroundings. As he cast his line, a figure emerged from the depths of the pool. A merman, muscular and imposing, with a black tail that shimmered like obsidian, short, gelled black hair, and a stubble that shadowed his sharp features.

"What are you doing there?" The merman's voice was deep, resonating with an undercurrent of power. Zach, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of a creature he thought existed only in myths, stammered, "Uhm... nothing." The merman rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "I see that you are fishing, and that's fine with me. I just wanted to know what fish you are after. By the way, my name is Caspian!" Zach blushed, his gaze darting away from Caspian's piercing emerald eyes. "I'm hitting for sturgeon, to get some blue caviar. I was told that it helps to gain muscles." Caspian threw back his head and laughed, a deep, resonant sound that echoed across the falls. "That doesn't work this way." He gestured dismissively at Zach's fishing equipment. "Let me help you!" Caspian plunged his hand into the water, emerging with a creature that made Zach’s stomach churn. It was a leech, but unlike any he’d seen before – thick, pulsating, and disturbingly large. Caspian laid it on the stone beside Zach. "What is that?" Zach asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Your ticket to bigger muscles," Caspian replied with a sly grin. Zach thought it was a special bait and reached for it, intending to hook it onto his line. But the leech was faster. It uncoiled with surprising speed, slithering over Zach's legs, a cold, slimy sensation against his skin.

"Hey!" Zach exclaimed, trying to shake it off. But the leech was relentless. It slithered upwards, disappearing beneath the hem of his shorts. Zach yelped, scrambling backwards. Panic flared as he felt something wriggling against his groin, a cold, insistent pressure. He clawed at his waistband, desperate to dislodge the creature. Then, a sharp, stinging pain erupted from his groin. He ripped down his shorts, his eyes widening in horror. The leech's mouth, a gaping maw ringed with tiny teeth, hat put his teeth into the base of Zach's shaft and was now fixed. "Get it off! Get it off!" Zach screamed, scrambling backward. He grabbed at the leech, trying to pry it loose. "Agh!" A wave of numbness washed over his legs, making them feel heavy and unresponsive. He looked up at Caspian, his eyes wide with fear. Caspian chuckled, a cruel glint in his emerald eyes. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. If you pull on it, the leech secretes a special secretion, which paralyzes your limbs—and eventually, your heart." Zach's blood ran cold. "But how can I get that thing off?" Caspian grinned, a flash of predatory amusement in his emerald eyes. "Not at all. Just enjoy!" "Enjoy?" Zach was bewildered, his eyes darting between the leech latched onto his cock and Caspian's unsettlingly gleeful expression. What was he supposed to enjoy about this? Then he felt it. A slow, deliberate caress as the leech explored the sensitive skin of his glans, a wet, insistent flick against his piss slit. A moan escaped his lips, involuntary and mortifying. A strange heat bloomed in his loins, eclipsing the initial fear and disgust. The leech continued its tantalizing ministrations, driving Zach to the edge of climax, then abruptly stopped. Zach gasped, his body aching with unmet need. "The leech subsists on your cum," Caspian purred, watching Zach's torment with undisguised pleasure. Desperation clawed at Zach. He was so close, yet the leech held him captive, denying him release. Hours crawled by, each moment a symphony of exquisite torture. The leech teased, retreated, and advanced, always stopping just short of the precipice. Finally, when Zach thought he could bear it no longer, the leech relented. A shuddering climax ripped through him, his body convulsing as he emptied himself into the leech's insatiable maw. Afterward, spent and disoriented, Zach felt a gnawing hunger. He caught a fish, gutted it, and started a fire. The flames danced, casting flickering shadows on the surrounding trees. "Why bother with that?" Caspian asked, arching an eyebrow. Zach shrugged, confused by the question. "I'm hungry." Caspian chuckled. "Suit yourself." Over the next few days, the leech's game continued. The periods of teasing grew longer, the pleasure more intense, and the frustration more unbearable. Zach noticed the leech growing larger with each climax, its body pulsing with stolen energy. He, too, was changing. His muscles grew denser, his frame broadening, and his appetite became insatiable.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session with the leech, he caught a fish, the familiar pangs of hunger biting at his stomach. As he prepared to clean it, a primal urge surged through him. He hesitated, then, driven by an overwhelming compulsion, devoured the fish raw, scales and all. The taste was wild, untamed, and shockingly satisfying. He ripped the flesh from the bone, relishing the wriggling life between his teeth. "That's more like it," Caspian said, his eyes gleaming with approval. The shift was complete. Zach was becoming something… else. With each passing day, Zach's transformation accelerated. His body became a sculpted monument of muscle.

But the changes weren't merely physical. His thoughts grew simpler, his desires more basic. He found himself seeking Caspian's approval, a deep-seated need to please his tormentor. "Is this good, Caspian?" he’d ask, flexing his biceps. Or, "Did I catch enough fish, Caspian?" Caspian would simply smile, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You are doing well, Zach. Very well indeed." Soon, Zach was a hulking mass of muscle, barely recognizable as the slender young man who had sought Felix's aid. He no longer bothered with fire. Fish were simply sustenance, devoured whole and wriggling. His movements became more animalistic, his thoughts clouded, his will diminished. He was aware of the change, a dull ache of loss buried beneath the rising tide of instinct. But the desire to please Caspian, the primal satisfaction of his ever-growing strength, eclipsed all else. One day, as he was wading in the river, he noticed something strange. Patches of scales were forming on his legs, shimmering like polished metal. Fear flickered in his eyes, a brief spark of his former self. He looked to Caspian, a question forming on his lips. But the words died in his throat. All that came out was a confused, "Caspian?" Caspian approached, his expression unreadable. "You are becoming what you were always meant to be, Zach. A magnificent specimen." Over the next few weeks, the scales spread, encasing his legs in a glistening, iridescent armor.

His feet fused together, forming a powerful, sturgeon -like tail.  His cock now nestled within a sheath in the tail, almost hidden. He looked, undeniably, like a merman. He stared at his reflection in the water, a grotesque parody of his former self. "What…?" Zach croaked, his voice thick with fear. "How can the leech survive under the skin of my tail?"   Caspian threw his head back, a booming laugh echoing across the falls. "There isn't a leech anymore. It is completely merged with you!"

He began to sing, his voice a deep, resonant baritone weaving an ancient melody in an alien language. A seam in Zach’s tail shimmered, then opened, revealing his cock, now strangely sensitive and pulsating. With a practiced stroke, Caspian’s hand encircled Zach’s shaft, milking him with firm, rhythmic motions. Zach moaned, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward. “Oh, fuck…” Caspian continued to stroke, his eyes gleaming with predatory delight. “Almost there, little fish.” Then, with a final, forceful stroke, Zach came. But instead of cum, a cascade of glistening blue caviar spilled from the tip of his cock, each tiny sphere catching the light like a miniature jewel. The caviar tumbled into a clam shell that Caspian held beneath, the shell filling rapidly with the precious substance.

Zach stared, mesmerized. All the anger, all the frustration he had felt towards Caspian, the torment of the leech, vanished in that instant. He realized Caspian hadn’t been cruel; he had been guiding him, helping him to achieve this. “Thank you so much, Caspian!” Zach grinned, blissful. “Now I can become a human again… a muscular human!” He reached for the shell, eager to possess the caviar that would restore him.

But Caspian’s answering smirk was cruel, predatory. He snatched the shell away, the blue caviar gleaming enticingly. "Caviar isn’t for livestock," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. Zach’s face crumpled. He stammered, confused. “Livestock? But… the caviar…, Caspian?” Caspian’s eyes glittered, emerald shards in the filtered sunlight. "And don't call me Caspian. It's 'your highness' to you. I'm the prince of these waters, and you? You are not even my subject. You’re nothing more than my… cattle!" Two other mermen materialized from the depths, their eyes cold and assessing. They seized Zach, their grip surprisingly strong. “Hey! Let me go!” Zach struggled, panic rising in his chest. He was a fool. He tried to fight, thrashing against their grip. But his muscles, newly grown, were no match for their aquatic strength. They dragged him down, deeper into the emerald abyss. Caspian chuckled, a possessive gleam in his eyes. “Don’t fight it, Zach. Embrace your new purpose. You will be well cared for, I assure you. And your caviar will be greatly appreciated.” The mermen hauled Zach through twisting tunnels, past kelp gardens and shimmering schools of fish.

In the coming weeks, they molded Zach into livestock. He fought, he resisted, he pleaded, but the mermen were relentless. Days blurred into a monotonous cycle of feeding, milking, and subservience. Caspian would sing to Zach, his voice a siren’s call, weaving promises of comfort and purpose. "Just relax, Zach," Caspian would coo, stroking his tail. "You're doing so well. Such beautiful caviar." Slowly, Zach’s resistance crumbled. The primal instincts, awakened by the leech, took over. He stopped thinking, stopped questioning, until he was nothing more than a compliant creature, grateful for the scraps they tossed him. He preened under Caspian’s touch and became accustomed to the milking, eager to offer up his bounty.  He even took pride in the quality of his caviar, in the rich blue hue and the perfect spherical shape of each glistening pearl. He was livestock, yes, but he was *good* livestock.

One morning, a ripple disturbed the tranquil surface of the river. Caspian, ever attentive, turned with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Ah, Felix. Always a pleasure." Felix strolled into view, his silk shirt catching the light. "Caspian, darling! You always have the best seafood. A stressful month, you know? I need a little treat." Caspian clapped his hands, a sharp, commanding sound. "Of course, Felix. Only the best for you." He gestured towards the water. "Zach!" From the depths, Zach emerged, his magnificent tail rippling. He held a shell, brimming with the shimmering blue caviar. His eyes, once so bright with ambition, now held a vacant devotion. "Your Highness," he murmured, his voice a low, guttural rumble.

Felix smirked, his gaze lingering on Zach's transformed physique. "Wow, Zach got quite muscular! You've been taking good care of him." A flicker of something, recognition perhaps, sparked in Zach's eyes as he heard his name. Caspian beamed, a possessive hand landing heavily on Zach's head. "He has really developed into wonderful livestock!" He plucked the shell from Zach's grasp, offering it to Felix. Felix, always the connoisseur accepted it, delicately tasting the caviar. His eyes widened in delight.

"He's become quite docile, hasn't he?" Felix commented, watching Zach's reaction to Caspian's touch with amusement. "Hardly a trace of the human he once was." "That's the beauty of it," Caspian replied, his voice laced with possessive pride. "Complete control. Utter devotion." He squeezed Zach's cheek, his fingers digging in slightly. "Isn't that right, Zach?" "Yes, your highness," Zach murmured, his voice a low, submissive hum. He opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on Caspian's face. There was nothing else in his world. Felix chuckled again, shaking his head. "You truly have a talent for this, Caspian. Turning men into…well, this." He gestured towards Zach with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's quite impressive, in a disturbing sort of way." "He's almost ready," Caspian said with a grin. "Soon, he won't even remember his past life. He'll be nothing more than a vessel for producing caviar, completely and utterly mine." Felix nodded slowly, while popping another spoon of caviar. He strolled back along the riverbank and muttered to himself, "Another soul claimed, another wish twisted. Amusing, truly amusing." He laughed, a carefree, boyish sound that echoed through the trees, carrying no hint of the devastation he left in his wake.

As Zach watched Felix go, a faint echo of a memory stirring within him. The echo was quickly washed away by the overwhelming tide of Caspian's presence. He was livestock, and Caspian was his master. That was all that mattered. He lowered his head, content in his servitude, as Caspian led him back into the cool, dark depths. The world of human ambition, of striving and desire, was a distant, forgotten dream. He was home.

[valeisaslut]

along with ellie being different/looking different/being a lesbian compared to other women singers/celebs who are famous alongside her, i can’t stop thinking about how also… the notion of being a “rockstar” is unfortunately and incredibly VERY male dominated.

even with being the daughter of joel, i can’t imagine how much misogyny she must’ve faced from her own “peers” in that musical scene/genre. i wouldn’t even be surprised if men gave her shit BECAUSE joel is her father. you know those super annoying, gatekeep-y type of men who are like… “nirvana? oh yeah? name five songs.” she must’ve been surrounded by them.

the idea of a “rockstar” is always so typically a man, a womanizer, sleaze and star power… thinking very heavily about ellie breaking through such a general “man thing.” thinking about men belittling her, trying to sexualize her, trying to make her into something she’s not. treating her as though she would never be an equal.

and ellie? taking it all in. internalizing it. spite or self protection, maybe it was both, but she became the untouchable thing. she beat them at their own game. she wasn’t their equal, she was BETTER. but she lost herself in the process.

#sorry making headcanons about a story that doesn’t belong to me

OMG. OMFG. I ALWAYS WANTED TO YAP RELENTLESSLY ABOUT THIS. YES. YES. YESSSSSSS!!!!!! I WANNA FUCKING KISS YOU SO HARD YOU BEAUTIFUL GORGEOUS GENIUS NONNIE!!!!!

don’t EVER apologize for making headcanons about my story because this is CANON behavior. i’m gripping it w both hands and screaming “EXACTLY.”

you’re completely right: the concept of a “rockstar” is so deeply gendered and steeped in misogyny. it’s loud, it’s cocky, it’s male by default. and ellie? ellie is none of the things those men wanted her to be. not straight, not submissive, not grateful. not legacy-only. not manufactured. not anyone’s muse. just a fucking star.

she grew up hearing joel called a legend 3 times in the same phrase. she could play guitar before she could do a long division, and instead of being seen as a prodigy, people just said: oh, that’s joel’s kid.

so from the start she’s less than in the eyes of men who will never, ever hold a candle to her talent. and she knows that. she’s spent her entire life being treated like an industry fluke, like she got a shortcut, like she owes the world something for having talent and a vagina.

and what does she do in return? she takes their blueprint, rips it up, and builds her own fucking empire alongside jesse and dina.

six grammys in one night. six. let’s NEVER forget chapter five.

she swept the entire industry and stood there in custom dior looking like she could bite the head off every man in that room and they still clapped like crazy. she has more women simping for her than any man ever could. she doesn’t have to say she’s the best—everyone already knows.

but none of that stops the criticism. because she’s a lesbian and angry and unapologetic. because she doesn’t play the good little queer girl. because she doesn’t soften the edges of her masculinity. because she doesn’t care if men want to fuck her or not. and that’s terrifying for them.

and still. still. she internalizes it. of course she does. all that hate, all that scrutiny, all that fear she inspires: it doesn’t disappear when the lights go down. it settles in her bones. it becomes the voice in her head that says “joel would’ve done that better, you’re just lucky, you’re not enough.”

and that voice doesn’t just show up in insecurities or her addiction—it shows up EVEN in bed. she can give and give and give, but receiving? letting someone take care of her? FIGURES TO CHAPTER FIVE being so shocked ab reader wanting to give her head.

she’d rather wear the strap than talk about why she never comes first. she’d rather collect bodies than risk getting close. she learned how to be wanted without being vulnerable. that’s the trick. that’s the armor.

but it’s not real love. not until you.

because you’re the only one who makes her feel like she’s not a product. not a headline. not the “lesbian rockstar daughter of joel miller.” just ellie. who can be soft and selfish and scared. who can cry and be held and fall apart without the world watching.

so yeah. she beat them at their own game. she made herself untouchable. but now, for the first time, she’s learning how to be held.

THANK YOU truly for giving me a space to talk about this topic, i appreciate not only you reading, but taking your time to reflect, send this amazing inbox and think about all the things im slipping thru the lines. ilysmmmmm💞💞💞💞💞

[stilljuststardust]

PLEASE YAP ABOUT YOUR DRS I LOVE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT, I LOVE LEARNING NEW THINGS BOUT YOU

I've tried to have DR accounts but speaking into the void makes me feel so weird and it's harder to yap that way.

I'm usually very private about my Drs so I'll share stuff people IRL don't know/can't be traced back to me. I don't know if I've even told my friends about this DR yet.

Anyways. Breaking news ig:

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

My Shifter DR

Sorry yet again if this is how you find out I don't live inside of a black and white surrealist photograph

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

This is a 2020 shiftok DR.

Playlist

This is basically my buffer reality. A quiet life where I can take a break from more intense realities while also being able to express myself fully. I hate the separation I feel from non shifters and this reality doesn't have that disconnect.

Its basically a better CR but where shifters can live authentically. A version of the web with shifter centric Google, Pinterest, TikTok, youtube, though obviously they aren't named the same as it's the shifter version of each thing.

The community in that reality has all of the late night sleepover energy of old shiftok with none of the misinformation or desperation. Just a real community coming together and gossiping.

There is a version of the internet only available to reality shifters. A secret society far far away from the prying eyes of anti shifters, where you can post without the worry that if anything too cringe will land you in a middle grade YouTubers shitty think piece. Even if the general public had access they wouldn't care because this reality is built for my inner weird kid.

Cringe culture is dead in this reality. Anyone I tell about shifting will be accepting even if they themselves are not a shifter and I will never again pause awkwardly as I decide if it's lying to say I have a boyfriend if that boyfriend is a fictional character. Basically, people mind their fucking business when it comes to shifters instead of shitting themselves everytime they hear about it.

My favorite thing I scripted is being able to download and upload media from your DRs and post it instead of trying to cobble together recreations. There is an application called scriptr that's basically the Holy Grail. Its a mash up of Notion, Pinterest, and the Sims. You can design your bedroom and a real photo of it will pop into existence, create an avatar of your desired self, search for a specific reality or time period and find exclusively accurate results, prompts, etc.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

My life there

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

I did script myself younger, but not to the age I was in 2020. Before a bunch of people get mad at me, the age change is incredibly small. I'm only aging back one year, because 18 was traumatic and I didn't get to experience it at all. I think you'll live if I'm the age I was six months ago guys.

It's not an exciting reality and it's not supposed to be, it's a quiet life where I can escape from my twelve other less quiet lives. Yes I also have a waiting room for that but that reality isn't a home, my WR is a silly little place where I watch edits of myself.

I've scripted the reality as this really healing place for me. That feeling you had picking flowers on the side of the field instead of participating with everyone else, how holidays felt when you still believed in magic, how you were before they banned fun and whimsy.

I grew up feeling like there was something wrong with me and all I ever really wanted was to feel like I wasn't weird, so this reality says fuck that shit I'm just gonna be weird.

I've mentioned before that I put subliminals on a playlist as a shortcut for scripting so take a look at the ones I saved for DRs energy: here

This reality is all sitting in silk robes as I live stream with my friends talking about our DRs, long walks in the meadow by my house, buying luxury perfumes, and cooking with my mom. Its all the whimsy and nostalgia and the weird kid tendencies this reality tends to discourage after a certain age. My life there is Wattpad, silly edits, and storytimes.

I spend hours lounging on my canopy bed as I script diabolical shit, and then when I finally go outside and touch grass I lose myself in the wonderful woods behind my house.

If you are reading this I really suggest you have a reality where you can be yourself. Be whatever weird annoying person you've tried to get rid of, because you were only doing what made you happy.

It's just me, my cat, and my 16 hour screentime against the world.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

[thisonegirl]

To Be A Weakling

pairing : jo togami x reader rating : nsfw warnings : angst ; sexual descriptions ; swearing ; mentions of violence ; mentions of blood wc : 2.5k (edited)

Would you stay with a person who is evil to others but good to you?

You had always thought that as long as your partner treated you right, you didn’t care about anything or anyone else but you found yourself doubting that notion as you watched your boyfriend mercilessly beat another boy into a pulp before removing his jacket, the Shishitoren jacket. 

It always bothered you how easily they could turn on someone after calling them brother. You thought it was all about unity, loyalty and fraternity but it turned out to be a dog eat dog world in a quest to be the strongest or, as Choji would put it, the most free.

“What do you even mean by that?” You had asked once, “it’s not like you’re shackled to anything, metaphorically speaking of course.” 

“For us it means being free from boundaries and anything that would restrict us in any way,” Togame explained, the glimmer in his eyes as he spoke told you exactly how much believed in those words and how passionate he was about achieving that goal. “The only way to be truly free is through power, and power is only reserved for the strongest.”

“So you guys are more devotees of freedom rather than power, no?” You had questioned with furrowed brows, slowly making sense of what he had been explaining to you.

“No, we’re devotees of power because that’s what ensures our freedom.” 

That conversation seemed innocuous enough at the time but having seen with your own eyes the lengths they went to ensure their “power”, you couldn’t help but kick yourself for missing such a bright red flag waving right in front of you eyes. 

The sound of Togame’s fists pounding against the boy’s face was unsettling but the sight of it was even worse. You knew all about his lifestyle and all about what they did — I mean, who didn’t? — but Togame always did his best to make sure you never witnessed it. Partly because he knew you were too sensitive for such a sight but mostly because he didn’t want you to see that side of him, the meaner and crueler side of him.

You weren’t even meant to be there in that alley. You were tired and you thought to take a shortcut to get home quicker only to be confronted by a mass of yellow jackets surrounding something, or rather someone.

You weren’t scared or anything. Everyone knew who you were and they knew better than to mess with you so you just thought to keep your head down, turn around and walk away when you heard his voice.

You couldn’t make out the exact words but you knew you heard him so like a moth to flame you followed it. And boy, did you regret it. Managing to catch a glimpse of what was in the middle of the circle from gaps between the rowdy boys, you saw him. 

You were frozen in place for a bit before your legs began moving as though they had a mind of their own. You pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of Togame.

His fist was pulled back, ready and packed with another blow when he saw you. Shock, confusion and even slimmer of shame swirled in his eyes as he faltered. He released the boy’s collar, letting his head hit the ground. The sound of the impact made you flinch and wince.

Slowly getting up, he put his glasses back on and threw the extra jacket over his shoulder. You watched his movements not recognizing the mannerisms. 

“Let’s go,” he said in a cool manner, ignoring the shock, disgust and disappointment in your eyes. He softly pulled you away from the crowd, your eyes still stuck on the bloody face that laid on the ground with no one to help him. You wanted to be the one to do so but by the time you gained control of your body once more, Togame already had a hand on your lower back leading you away from the scene and everyone else had dispersed.

“What were you doing there?” He asked in a low tone that felt colder than what you were used to. 

“I-I,” you stammered a bit before gulping, “j-just wanted to take a shortcut,” you whispered with a slight tremble to your voice.

You all of a sudden felt nervous to be with him. Alone at that. Deep down you knew you were safer with him than anyone else in the world but having witnessed his brutality for the first time, seeds of doubt regarding his character were planted in your mind.

“You shouldn’t go through there. It's not safe,” he said softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side.

You were hyper aware of his bloody hand on you. You cringed trying to ignore it as he led you home. The walk felt longer than you remembered it to be and the silence between you was only broken by the noise surrounding you. A tense silence that replaced the lively chatter that would usually ensue the second you were together.

When you reached your home, with shaken hands, you tried to unlock your door. Hoping that he didn’t notice how badly you were fumbling with them would be futile as he gently took and opened the door himself. The both of you entered the apartment. The dark and quiet that greeted you were the sign that your mother nor your younger brother were home, much to your dismay. 

Following the routine in such cases, you both go to your room. As you placed your things in their rightful places, Togame went to the bathroom. You heard the water running and you couldn’t help but picture the blood washing away from his hands. Blood from the wounds of a face that would forever remember the hands that scared it.

You heard the water stop running and within seconds he was in your room, behind you, arms wrapped around your much smaller frame. You felt his lips against your head, lingering for a bit before he spun you around in his arms to kiss your forehead.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he whispered.

You didn’t know what to say so you just nodded.

“Please say something,” he sounded… normal again. Gentle and kind like how you had always known him to be.

“I don’t have anything to say, Togame,” you responded.

“Yes you do. You’re just scared,” he countered. He was right. You were scared. And though you knew he would never lay a had on you, you weren’t sure you liked the idea of him being able to hurt anyone else so easily, so nonchalantly. “I’d never —“ his voice cracked and with it, your heart as well.

“I know you wouldn’t!” You interrupted, “I never thought that, Togame. I was just… I guess… a bit off put by it,” you gently explained, “I know what you guys do but actually seeing it was just… I don’t know,”

“He was weak. He went against what we stood for and that’s why —“

“No! Please no, I don’t want to know why,” you said, “let’s just forget about it okay?” You pulled yourself from out of his embrace and went about your night routine, ignoring his gaze following your every movement as you tried to ignore him.

When you both laid in your bed, you thought about how had it been a regular day in the absence of your family, you’d both be insatiably and shamelessly ravaging each other but no, you just had to take that damn shortcut and now you laid together in bed, your back to his chest as he held you close, with unspoken words and uncomfortable feelings lingering about.

“It wasn’t always like this,” he said. You let his words float for a bit before responding.

“What do you mean?” 

“We used to be… different, better. Then Choji…he wanted us to be stronger and he said this was the only way,” he explained further. 

“What was the only way?”

“Getting rid of the weaklings… the losers.” It broke your heart hearing those words leave his mouth. You thought about how much your younger brother looked up to him. He was just starting middle school but he had plans to join them much to your and Togame’s disapproval. Now I know why he opposed it.

“Why was that the only way though?” You asked, turning to face him. You noticed the discomfort etched upon his face as he avoided your eyes in shame.

“Because he believes the strong can’t lose.”

Choji was the youngest ever leader of the Shishitoren. You knew that to get there, he wasn't nice or meek. A weakling, in his words. His cheery personality combined with that fact left you very untrusting of him, very weary and skeptical. He was the strongest of the strongest, therefore the freest. He was beyond boundaries and you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t tolerate anyone threatening the power of his gang as their strength was supposed to be a reflection of his. 

You didn’t particularly like the fact that Togame associated himself with the Shishitoren nor that fact that he was such close friends with the leader, to the point that he was the second-in-command but you weren’t exactly thinking straight back then being a dumb lovestruck girl and you were no longer in a position to complain because you knew exactly who and what he was when you got together. 

“Do you believe in that too?” You asked, noting how he structured his prior response.

“Not necessarily but I understand it,” he responded sincerely. 

“If you don’t believe in it, why follow it?”

“Because he’s my closest friend. I need to stand beside him no matter what.”

“Even if he’s wrong?”

His eyes tentatively met yours as confliction clouded them. You knew the answer, he didn’t need to utter them. You also knew what you had to do but decided to postpone it for a bit.

Pushing the conversation aside, you leaned forward to kiss his lips. The soft hesitant kiss soon developed into a passionate one. You could almost feel his relief and it broke your heart to think about what you’d do after.

Your hands made their way down his torso and he took it as permission to do the same as he let his own roam over your body. Your kiss, still passionate, was broken for a moment as he lifted your shirt over your head before continuing.

You pulled him closer and over you, tugging on his shirt urging him to remove it as he had done yours to which he hastily complied.

“I’m sorry baby,” he said breathless from the kiss but you silenced him by grabbing his face in your hands and connecting your lips once more.

The remainder of your clothing flew off your bodies article by article until there was nothing left between your bodies.

As he rested between your legs, you felt his cock rest against your pussy. The feeling of his hardening member  made you wet and needy that you begin moving your hips, grinding against him. He groaned against your lips, following your lead and moving his own hips with yours. His shaft moved between your lower lips as his tip brushed against your tender clit with every thrust.

His hands roamed all over your naked body before stopping at your breasts to play around with your hard nipples, twisting and pinching them with his fingers making you gasp and whimper at the feeling.

Breaking the kiss he lowered his head to your chest, placing your nipple in his mouth and sucking it while massaging the other one.

“Ah, fuck,” you whimpered sinking your fingers into his hair, softly pulling at it.

You felt yourself inching closer and closer to your climax, your hips moving faster and rowdier as you did. Taking the hint of your impending release, Togame stopped his movements and pulled away from you making you whine in confusion which quickly disappeared as you watched him move even lower and wasted no time slurping you up.

He feasted hungrily, taking a hold of your hands and interlocking your fingers with his. His warm tongue worked wonders on you, making you arch your back in pleasure as a loud moan ripped through you.

“You like that baby?” He asked, his lips still on your pussy. You looked down at him, at his droopy hazy eyes, the sight making you even horniner.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes, Togame, yes, I do…” you moaned. Your legs began to tremble as he sucked you clit and licked up and down your lips, and like before, as you felt yourself nearing your end, he stopped.

“What the hell-“ you started to complain only to be interrupted by Togame burying himself inside you in a slow but deep thrust.

“Ohh…” you let out a long drawn out moan at the feeling his cock stretched you out. A feeling that though you were used to, never ceased to make your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Fuck baby…” he groaned, finding a steady pace as he thrusted in and out of you.

Your fingers still interlocked as he held your hands down beside your head. His forehead resting upon your as you breaths mingled and his eyes set on yours as he steadily fucked you.

It had been a while since you felt so close to him, since you felt such a burning passion as you made love to each other. You wondered if he knew this would possibly be the last time. 

As you felt your orgasm simmering once again, your eyelids shut at the intensity creeping up on you. Togame lets go of your hands, one reaching between you bodies down to your clit rubbing and the other wrapping itself around your neck in a firm grip.

“Open your eyes… I wanna see them when you cum,” he hissed, his thrusts growing erratic as he also inched closer to coming.

You followed his orders, staring deeply into his green eyes. The ones you fell in love with and knew you couldn’t live without. Your decision to end your relationship was overturned then and there.

His groans and your moans grew louder and louder as you both reached your came. His body stiffening as he came inside you and your body trembling as you released onto him. You struggled to keep your eyes open as you came, but you tried your hardest enthralled with the intensity and passion in his eyes as you stared into yours. The love and admiration. The devotion and respect.

“I love you. More than anything,” he said. His words left like a promise. It was then that you knew he knew. You had a choice to accept his words and his promise or to let this be the goodbye it was meant to be.

As opposed to the Shishitoren, you were a weakling. You didn’t have the strength to hurt him nor yourself, so you chose the former.

——————————

masterlist

[yuurei20]

Updated Vil Facts Part 13: Effort (pt1)

Jade says “Vil is strict, both towards himself and others,” while Jamil says he admires how Vil never compromises on anything “but he certainly works people to the bone.”

We get many examples of the importance that Vil places on effort: he refuses to participate in the Wish Upon a Star event, saying, “I have zero respect for anyone who believes in that hoax and wastes their time on it. Hoping for a miracle without putting in the work to make it happen is the epitome of indolence. I make my own miracles. I have no wishes to send to the stars. That's all there is to it.”

When pressured by Trey to wish for something (Vil: “You make it sound like I'm the bad guy here”), Vil compromises by wishing for Grim, Trey and the prefect to stop nagging him.

Vil explains, “Sometimes, the more capable you become, the harder it gets to endorse yourself,” and tells Deuce, “Spare me the infantile notion that hard work guarantees a reward,” repeating that “The idea that hard work is always rewarded is utter drivel only true in fairy tales.”

Vil says that he loathes instructing those who have no drive to improve and does not believe in doing things halfheartedly: “If you do something, you must do it to perfection.”

This comes up again with Vil's tsum, with Vil accepting tsumsitting duty with reluctance but declaring his intention to “see it through to perfection” as he doesn’t want anyone thinking he does things by half-measures.

He says that plenty of people have called him stoic, “But I’m simply putting in the work necessary to achieve my goals. Isn’t that natural?”

Ace asks if there are any spells that can skip self-care routines and Vil explains that magic solutions are temporary: “What I seek is genuine, authentic aesthetic perfection.” Vil emphasizes to both Epel and Ortho that there are no shortcuts to perfection or success.

Vil says that his pursue of perfection is similar to the Fairest Queen who earned the Magic Mirror’s recognition, as she also “gave her utmost effort to achieve her ideals, which is precisely why she was called the fairest one of all…”

He also says, “True beauty is built upon Intelligence. If you try to coast on looks alone, you'll be exposed as a sham before you know it.” 

Jade says that the eternal pursuit of self-improvement is in Vil’s nature (“He is an ambitious man”) and Vil says he has no respect for people who do not strive to win.

Rook says, “Vil never slacks off, whether he's learning or training. That's one of the reasons he commands such respect.”

[the-meat-machine]

u just seem like the person to ask about hs cherub lore- has it ever been confirmed where the cherubs come from ectobiologically speaking?? like, from my tenuous understanding of it all, calliope and caliborn are living on the destroyed alpha earth that jane and co are living on- but if the cherubs are sbrub players, then they would have needed to do the self-fulfilling extobiology phase of the game, except for the fact that caliborn broke the game before they even had the chance. Are we meant to understand the cherubs were a naturally occuring species in the alpha universe unrelated to intelligent life destined to play the game, and that's why gamzee intervening to get them into a game resulted in a null session as well as the proceeding fuckery?

Yeah, Calliope and Caliborn are some of the few characters in the comic who weren't created through ectobiology. Instead, they were conceived and hatched the natural way for their species.

This is all explained by Aranea in perhaps unnecessary but IMO fascinating detail when she gives her whole cherub sex spiel. The mating battle that we witness during that section of the comic is in fact the moment when Calliope and Caliborn were conceived. Ah, the miracle of life.

And actually, the cherubs didn't hatch in the alpha universe—they hatched in the universe that the kids create!* They were born on Earth C, far far into its future after civilizations have risen and fallen and the sun it orbits has become a red giant. We know this thanks to this conversation between Hussie and Caliborn:

Earth has been through a lot. It was even relocated a couple times. YES. I BROUGHT IT WITH ME, I THINK. INTO THE GAME. Yes. But it was relocated once even before that. It was moved from its native solar system, where it circled around a little yellow sun. Then it founds its way to a new system, around your big red sun. It stayed there for a good while, until your sun started dying.

When Hussie says that Earth was relocated, he's referring to Jade (or Vriska? I guess it was Vriska post-retcon) bringing Earth from the alpha universe into the universe the kids create. Thus, the cherubs are from Earth C.

So yeah, cherubs are a naturally occurring species in the universe the kids create. In fact, I always imagined that cherubs exist in many/all(?) universes in Paradox Space, with their role being something akin to a universal immune system. This would put them in a special role that sets them apart from the ordinary species that evolve within each universe. That's how I interpret Aranea's spiel about cherubs, anyway.

Anyway! I'd also like to challenge the notion that all Sburb players have to be created with ectobiology.

Now, there are certain groups of people who are destined to have to play Sburb because they were ectobiologically created within the game. If they don't play, they don't fulfill the conditions for their own existence, causing a time paradox and dooming the timeline. The beta kids and trolls fall into this category.

But that doesn't mean that the reverse is true! You don't necessarily have to be created by ectobiology in order to play Sburb. In fact, we see in the early acts of the comic that quite a lot of humans on Earth start their own Sburb sessions and write up FAQs for the game and become Gents of Piss and so on. But there's no evidence that all of these people crashed to Earth on meteors as babies. Instead, they were able to piggyback off the version of Sburb that was created from the frog ruins seeded by the beta kids' session.

This is kind of similar to what I think happened for the cherubs. They have Gamzee's computer which presumably still has Sgrub installed, so that's most likely the version of the game Caliborn played. The cherubs don't have their own frog temple or their own version of the game; they had to piggyback off of someone else's.

Presumably, this sort of shortcut is the only way that Caliborn could ever have played the game. There's a lot in the comic about how cherubs as a species were never "meant" to play Sburb, and certainly it seems improbable that a dead session like Caliborn's could possibly be fruitful enough to seed its own player and frog temple through ectobiology. This means Caliborn was only able to play by taking advantage of a loophole, which I have to say is very fitting for him. That's my boy all right. That's my boy.

* Interestingly, this means that no matter how much Caliborn/Lord English opposes the kids, he actually needs them to win the game—if they don't, his own home universe will never be created and he can never be born!

[i-love-your-light]

too many thoughts on the new hbomberguy video not to put them anywhere so:

with every app trying to turn into the clock app these days by feeding you endless short form content, *how many* pieces of misinformation does the average person consume day to day?? thinking a lot about how tons of people on social media go largely unquestioned about the information they provide just because they speak confidently into the camera. if you're scrolling through hundreds of pieces of content a day, how many are you realistically going to have the time and will to check? i think there's an unfortunate subconscious bias in liberal and leftist spaces that misinformation is something that is done only by the right, but it's a bipartisan issue babey. everybody's got their own agendas, even if they're on "your side". *insert you are not immune to propaganda garfield meme*

and speaking of fact checking, can't help but think about how much the current state of search engines Sucks So Bad right now. not that this excuses ANY of the misinformation at all, but i think it provides further context as to why these things become so prevalent in creators who become quick-turnaround-content-farms and cut corners when it comes to researching. when i was in high school and learning how to research and cite sources, google was a whole different landscape that was relatively easy to navigate. nowadays a search might give you an ad, a fake news article, somebody's random blog, a quora question, and another ad before actually giving you a relevant verifiable source. i was googling a question about 1920s technology the other day (for a fanfiction im writing lmao) and the VERY FIRST RESULT google gave me was some random fifth grader's school assignment on the topic???? like?????? WHAT????? it just makes it even harder for people to fact-check misinformation too.

going off the point of cutting corners when it comes to creating content, i can't help but think about capitalism's looming influence over all of this too. again, not as an excuse at all but just as further environmental context (because i really believe the takeaway shouldn't be "wow look how bad this one individual guy is" but rather "wow this is one specific example of a much larger systemic issue that is more pervasive than we realize"). a natural consequence of the inhumanity of capitalism is that people feel as if they have to step on or over eachother to get to 'the top'. if everybody is on this individualistic american dream race to success, everyone else around you just looks like collateral. of course then you're going to take shortcuts, and you're going to swindle labor and intellectual property from others, because your primary motivation is accruing capital (financial or social) over ethics or actual labor.

i've been thinking about this in relation to AI as well, and the notion that some people want to Be Artists without Doing Art. they want to Have Done Art but not labor through the process. to present something shiny to the world and benefit off of it. they don't want to go through the actual process of creating, they just want a product. Easy money. Winning the game of capitalism.

i can't even fully fault this mentality- as someone who has been struggling making barely minimum wage from art in one of the most expensive cities in america for the past two years, i can't say that i haven't been tempted on really difficult occasions to act in ways that would be morally bad but would give me a reprieve from the constant stress cycle of "how am i going to pay for my own survival for another month". the difference is i don't give in to those impulses.

tl;dr i hope that people realize that instead of this just being a time to dogpile on one guy (or a few people), that it's actually about a larger systemic problem, and the perfect breeding grounds society has created for this kind of behavior to largely go unchecked!!!

[gwinny5k]

People like Vance have a weird fucking notion of children as a shortcut to immortality. like, without looking it up, can you name all eight of your great-grandparents?

[literaryvein-reblogs]

When your Character Jumps to Conclusions

Jumping to Conclusions - (JTC or inference-observation confusion) is a psychological phenomenon in which a person comes to an unwarranted decision—usually a negative assumption—without all of the information.

Ways of Jumping to Conclusions

Researchers identify 3 different types of jumping to conclusions:

Fortune telling: In this form of jumping to conclusions, you believe you know how a situation will resolve without enough information.

Labeling: When you label, you use preconceptions, fallacies, or overgeneralizations to make assumptions about a person or situation rather than relying on existing evidence.

Mind reading: This form of jumping to conclusions involves believing you understand how someone is thinking without supporting evidence.

Examples of Jumping to Conclusions at Work

There are many ways you may find yourself jumping to negative conclusions while decision-making in the workplace, including:

Being quick to judge someone’s performance: If someone turns in a project late or performs unsatisfactorily in a meeting, you may indulge in negative thoughts about their performance or commitment. However, without further investigating and talking to them and their coworkers, you’re relying on a snap judgment rather than an informed opinion. There are many other reasons they may be struggling with deadlines, such as family trouble or miscommunication about work expectations.

Making assumptions about a potential hire: In the hiring process, jumping to conclusions can create unfair advantages and disadvantages for applicants. A hiring manager may accidentally rely on preconceived notions about potential hires or the general population instead of focusing on the application materials and interview.

Using shortcuts to summarize a target demographic: When companies identify their target markets or analyze market research, they may jump to the wrong conclusion about the needs and desires of particular demographics and build their foundation on a faulty assumption. For example, you may assume all young people want more social media platforms.

How to Stop Jumping to Conclusions at Work

Here’s how to avoid jumping to conclusions in the workplace:

Identify your sources of information. To stop jumping to conclusions, you first need to identify where you’re getting your information. The aim is to gather information from various reliable sources; if you rely on your own experience or cognitive biases, you’re at risk of extrapolation from limited, subjective sources.

Gather all the facts. Identify all the possible sources of information, and work to consult each one. For example, if you’re concerned about the performance of a particular employee, consider consulting their coworkers, their boss, and the employee themselves before you make any assumptions about why they’re struggling.

Consult trusted coworkers or resources. In addition to gathering information on your own, consult trusted mentors or guides to ensure you’re accessing all crucial sources of information. In the case of a big business proposal or wide-reaching decision, present your findings for review before moving forward.

Many people jump to conclusions in their thinking patterns because they fail to realize they’re missing all the facts, or they have overconfidence in their analytical abilities.

Jumping to conclusions can also result from preconceived notions, prejudices, or unconscious bias rather than real-time information.

Jumping to conclusions can have significant negative consequences in every area of your life, including in the workplace.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[terrence-silver]

Can I be blessed with some CK Terry and college beloved headcanons Bea💚 I just started my freshman year of college recently and I'm already getting stress acne it's only week 2 🫠 (also you’re sticker on my water is helping me get through my criminal justice class half the time lol I'll just stare at it looking at all the beautiful detail keep up the amazing work!)

-

― You sure you don't your diploma simply...you know, bought? Because that's the first idea that permeates Terry Silver's mind; just cut to the chase and buying the damn thing for you like he would buy a new race car or a new mansion. Maybe give the college or university in question a tactical 'generous grant' that leaves them indebted to him, as a benefactor, doing so to such a high degree letting you graduate under mysteriously premature circumstances is simply a given. Is it unfair? Yeah. Is it sleazy? Yeah. Does Terry care? No. In fact, the notion that it's morally wrong makes the whole idea more attractive as a prospect to him. Maybe he should simply charmingly threaten the head Dean if the place proves to be incorruptible, which only makes his desire to corrupt all the more ardent; whatever the case, Terry might see the college as an obstacle to himself. All the time beloved's investing focusing on exams, learning, studying and extracurriculars is time not spent with him, which is the way it should be. But, it isn't. And that's a problem. He's a territorial person, you see, and everything could potentially be a threat; even college.

― As a result, he undoubtedly mentions the whole 'lemme buy your graduation credentials for you' plan very, very, very often. On the daily. Tries to practically muscle you into it, not taking 'no' for an answer, having a whole onslaught of reasons why his standpoint is correct and why you're, in his opinion, making this harder for yourself than it really should be; he comes off strangely compelling and logical about it too. Why spend years and years on this when he knows the right people who know the right people. Not that Terry Silver's against education; on, in the public eye he's the patron of all causes noble (supposedly), so clap in awe of him, except, in his own private life he's just too greedy to share those he considers his. Too possessive to be eclipsed. Look at you; your face is breaking out in zits from the stress, oh, beloved; that right there, among many other factors is a tool of manipulation Terry might use to have you capitulate and let him have his ways because these pricks and punks are here stressing his beloved out to the degree the stress is physically manifesting all over their face. There should be hell to pay for that. He wants revenge on your behalf.

― But then again, as an upside Terry Silver does enjoy having a beloved currently in college because for the lack of a better word, it's hot, regardless if this is a very young post-Nam era Twig, 80's Terry Silver or old man Terry, the fact beloved's still in education has major fetishistic qualities for him and not to lie, said fetishistic quality only ripens and gets stronger as he ages. Old man Terry, for example, is fully aware the fact he's with someone who's still in college would raise eyebrows, run into critique and even downright judgement and disgust but he doesn't care and in fact, he relishes in it for that specific reason. It's quite literally a trope as ancient as can be and he realizes this, playing into it majorly; an older man and the student. Just the sound of that makes him gleeful and turned on and while he might be meddlesome and feel jealousy over the actual educational aspect of...you know, getting an education, the sound of it suits him far better than the practical aspects. Suffice to say he's as invested in this as beloved themselves is, if not more. Everything beloved does is something Terry himself is overinvested in more than beloved.

― Means that while he'd might wanna keep beloved away from school, or invent tactical shortcuts to the whole process by pretty much buying everything for them and presenting it on a silver platter (because, why not, if he can?), but he sure likes the sound of beloved being in college and regardless if beloved consents to this or not he will absolutely meddle, one way or another, into all of this. He'll be there making donations to the university, becoming a backer and a sponsor for various projects around campus, he'll be attending opening ceremonies, holding speeches, probably opens a Karate extracurricular headed by Cobra Kai just to drill the point home that this is now his territory through you and if it's at all possible, he'll invest so much into this philanthropic deeds around this college that these people will have no choice put to put up his framed picture in the lobby. It's like Terry Silver's presence infects everything it touches. Beloved's only a freshman and my god, the man they're with is already in everything. People who fight against it or speak up on the subject? Promptly fired. Maybe they get embroidered in a convenient scandal not of their making if Terry decides that's more fun for him.

― It's obsessive, yeah, but Terry loves beloved. Adores them. In his own messed up, dark way, sure. This is how his devotion manifests; this university? Better be honored to have someone his within their walls. That he's allowing beloved to grace this place at all. Better give them a preferential treatment as a result. They better be just as biased as he is. Yeah, they better be afraid on the downlow because he's butter up, shake everyone's hand, lowkey threaten everyone, bribe whoever he feels needs it and weave everyone into their web to ensure this happens. You want this education? You'll have it. And you'll have it however you want on whatever terms. He could've bought it for you and he's infinitely disappointed you didn't accept that route (or...maybe you did) but these people will worship the very ground beloved walks upon because he'll ensure that happens through his power and influence; the long reach he has. Might not be immediately apparent, but when you're loved by someone as influential as Terry Silver, it pays off. When your significant other's picture hangs in the hallway? People tend to notice. Might just make you valedictorian by the end of your educational career because Silver money just lined the halls of that school.

― Nothing's for free, see? Beloved does graduate with exemplary grades and achievements regardless if they actually did or if, uh, the system of said university got a couple of well meaning nudges in the right direction, if you catch my meaning. If Terry made the right people a couple of offers they couldn't refuse. They're their generation's best student. Probably got handled multiple accolades and awards too simply because Terry had the itch to see them happy and beaming. And he'd do it. He'd do anything to make them content and fulfilled. He's undoubtedly with them, right there on that stage once they graduate because he's invited up to hold a speech. An audience of hundreds of students know beloved belongs to him. Heck, they might even know a great many of these achievements are a source of complete and utter nepotism, but Terry doesn't care. He's amused by it. Totally gleeful like a smug snake. He laps it all up. Sees it as feeding fuel. He crapped over the system in effect in the name of devotion. Beloved's all smiles. Terry's won in their name by any means neccessary. So, that's all that matters to him. If they said 'burn down the campus' he'd just as easily do that as well, so everyone should count their blessings all beloved wanted was a diploma and a graduation cap and not blood.

― 'Perfect' Terry would purr looking over beloved's immaculately perfect grades in the back of his limousine he's totally bribed out of the professors for them. All the better if beloved's just naturally that accomplished and talented, but my god, if they aren't, the whole world's gonna be what Terry Silver wants it to be because he'll make it so.

[adhdnojutsu]

Uchihas are Jew-coded

Preface: I'm Jewish. As with all marginalized minorities, outsiders are welcome to listen, ask questions etc. but not talk over or goysplain us. This applies especially to challenging our indigeneity. Which is not in "Gobacktoeurope"...

Obito

I first started headcanoning this after seeing Obito's Kamui dimension. His panic room looks a lot like the Holocaust memorial in Berlin.

He also said this to Rin:

Talmud (Sanhedrin 37a): “Whoever saves a single life is considered by scripture to have saved the whole world.'

Tikkun Olam: if I ruled the world...

Jews have a collective imperative of Tikkun Olam, aka fixing the world. Obito's and Madara's drive to do so means little on the face since many anime villains have this goal, but given the previous things mentioned, this looks like part of a pattern. Itachi and Sasuke, too, wanted to shoulder the weight of the world to make it a better place. Even if it meant the whole world hating you - like the whole world has hated and still hates Jews.

Let's delve deeper into that hatred, shall we? The anti-Semitic conspiracy theory that we secretly run the world is directly tied to our imperative to fix it. You can't fix anything without power and influence. In fact, the whole notion of Tikkun Olam being our job, may strike Gentiles as conceited and inspire hatred. Obito and Madara needed to "run the world" in order to "fix it" and were happy to accept that this meant being hated.

This "Jews control the world" conspiracy theory connects seamlessly to Konoha's suspicion of the clan conspiring to take over and using the Sharingan, a trait unique to the Uchiha, to control tailed beasts in order to execute such a take-over. Kotoamatsukami is the ultimate parallel to Jews secretly controlling the media, and with them, public opinion (but not in our favour?).

Just like the Sharingan, Jews have, or are accused of having, singular qualities that facilitate our rise to power. This is because Judaism is a closed (ethno)religion and opting in (converting), having interfaith families etc. is discouraged. In some ultra-Orthodox communities, this is taken quite far... Let's just say that Uchiha wives, too, take their husband's last name, but Mikoto Uchiha looks like Sasuke looks like Izuna... go figure.

Of course, in the case of Jews, this quality is not so much a gate-kept genetic trait, as a gravitation towards intellectual and influential professions passed down through generations. This is a direct result of anti-Semitic policy though: often being excluded from handicraft etc, Jews shifted the focus to administrative, financial and legal sectors. Jews are also traditionally studious, so our apparent domination of the Noble Prize is a result of this.

But no matter the cause of our success in certain areas, it would obviously have Gentiles eyeing us with suspicion. Why is a single ethnoreligious minority so prominently represented in positions of influence and acclaim? What might we be plotting? Why shouldn't we be plotting, since we ARE - allegedly - conniving, manipulative and greedy? Better get rid of us. Remember: Nazis hated Jews and were scared of arts and literature. Being Jewish and being an intellectual are, if you ask anti-Semites, shortcuts to power. You know who else hates books and Jews? Every single terrorist organization, be it Taliban, Hamas, ISIS,... Anti-intellectuals are often anti-Semites. Education is power. Jews love education. Terrorist regimes hate smart subjects. Ignorance is cheaper than bullets, after all.

Ghetto Uprising/Beware the Beginnings

The clan suspected the compound was just the beginning. Although the discrimination the Uchiha actually suffered - a compound, which all the other clans got, too, and surveillance - was not comparable to the Warsaw Ghetto or any other real world segregation, Fugaku and other clan members expected it to take a turn for the worse if ignored. And in order to prevent another Holocaust, you must recognize and fight the beginnings.

These beginnings are upon us once more. Anti-Semitism has been skyrocketing, and blaming Israel, a single, far-away country, is dishonest, considering:

Palestinians have massacred Jews decades before there even was a state of Israel; what Nakba was their excuse in 1922? What Nakba was there in Iran?

Jews are entitled to Israeli citizenship, all moving expenses paid, so why do many live in Diaspora? Could it be that they do not wish to be involved with the state of Israel? So why take it out on them, unless one already hated Jews?

The most recent rise in anti-Semitism didn't follow Israel's bombardment of Gaza, but the DAY of Hamas' mass rapes, mutilations, torture, and murder of 1000+ Jews on October 7. People who don't usually praise children, including those of "colonizers", getting slaughtered and mutilated, suddenly praised exactly that. These people have always been anti-Semitic and found an excuse to be loud about it by weaponizing Palestinian suffering, which they only care about because Jews are the culprit. Proof: Houthis are starving Muslim children in Yemen, China oppresses Uyghur Muslims, Assad gassed Muslims, America bombed Muslims for 20 years, but - crickets. Think about it.

Likewise, the Narutoverse counterpart of the Nazis or Hamas, Tobirama and his acolytes, have found many a lazy excuse, most notably the Kyuubi attack. They suspected an Uchiha, and little did they know they were right, except, just like Netanyahu and the people under his command, a single deranged Obito did not represent a critical mass of Uchihas. And yet, the clan, just as world Jewry, faced collective punishment. The Narutoverse Nazis were frothing at the mouth for an excuse for decades, and notable Uchiha individuals kept delivering, not least because their own incompetence, just like Netanyahu's, allowed things to get that far to begin with.

Isobu

Doesn't Isobu look a lot like shellfish? And isn't he why Rin killed herself? Rin was Obito's everything and she died because of this monster. Not that it was Isobu's fault, but still.

Jews aren't allowed to eat shellfish. Obito has every reason to hate shellfish for the mere memory that stuff evokes. I know it's a bit of a reach, but again, patterns.

Dress Codes

For a proud, prominent clan with a bit of a superiority complex for their gate-kept characteristics, the Uchiha sure dress very modestly, the women even more so. In fact, they might just be the least flashy of all Konoha communities. The muted colours and baggy cuts scream "modesty". If you've ever wandered an Orthodox Jewish neighbourhood, you'll see the women tend to wear long, plain skirts, long, tight sleeves, ultra-conservative shoes, and plain, long or covered hair.

Mikoto fits right in, but so do other Uchiha women. Izumi is a bit "daring" with her sleeveless look, but her overall style still fits. Nobody in that clan seems to have much vanity, while the general population of Konoha and the Narutoverse at large, is a lot more individualistic.

"This guy just slaughtered the whole police force, let's throw a kunai at him and see what happens" bless her little heart

Flag Infestation

Uchihas have no chill when it comes to plastering their logo everywhere in their compound. They were driven out of the general public and are doubling down on pride as a result. Same applies to Jews in the safety of our indigenous homeland (the Jewish Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem predates Islam, born in modern Saudi Arabia, by many centuries, so don't Gobacktoeurope me).

Oh, and a Nazi found an excuse to ghetto them up, assigned some of them authority to keep their own in check (Sonderkommando/"Konoha" military police), then got rid of them all and managed to sell it as a necessary evil.