#small or large whether you believe so or not you are worth it and you are family and you are his

[earthlyruins]

seeing people mischaracterize sanji will forever boil my blood but seeing people mischaracterize LUFFY and say that he only has sanji on his crew because he can cook actually has me wanting to kill someone HOW can you be that stupid. no genuinely how

[theonewiththefanfics]

A Life Worth Living (one-shot)

Synopsis: As sickness creeps closer in taking her life, Y/N has come to make her final amends. Though the Astarion she fell for no longer exists, even the cold clutch of absolute power can't match true love.

This is sort of an AU! because in truth, Ascended Astarion would not give a single shit if you've left him at this point, sorry :D I just had to get this out of my head

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x fem!Reader; Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of sickness (not specified), dying, death, swearing etc. Minimally edited :)

Word count: 5115

The day was much like any other in Baldur’s Gate – sunny without even a single wispy cloud in the sky, yet the Ancunin palace rose above all the rest like a beast in the night, drowning the houses in menacing shadows.

Matches, Y/N thought, to the person living inside.

Wrought iron gate surrounded the grounds, thorny rose vines looping through, while beautiful blooms opened towards the slowly moving star above.

This could’ve been her home, had she not said no. She shuddered to think what her life would’ve been like.

That had been almost five years ago. So much had changed during that time. It didn’t even feel like just half a decade had passed, it felt more like a century since Y/N had left Astarion. But she couldn’t stay with him. Not after he’d Ascended, completing the ritual he’d killed Cazador for, and became what he had always hated – a version of Cazador himself.

Her hand had barely touched the handle of the gates before it swung open on its own accord. Y/N shouldn’t be surprised by it, not with how much magic she’d seen and experienced during her travels, but still, such small things made their impact. Whether it was an invitation inside, or a trap only time would tell.

She didn’t have much of it, which is why she was there in the first place. Had that cursed sickness not been slowly taking over her body, eating away at it, cell by cell, Y/N would have dragged this final meeting with Astarion as far in the future as she could, but there were still friends she wanted to visit, places to see, no matter how limited her life had become.

With thinly veiled amazement, because she didn’t want to marvel at what surely was slave work, she walked down the gravel path towards the large double doors of the mansion, looking at the meticulously groomed gardens. Not even a single leaf was out of place. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. Where once she would’ve believed Astarion to be the one to care for these plants, now Y/N knew in her heart, he’d never stoop so low as to even get on one knee to prune a rose. Such a thing was below him nowadays. Let alone sleeping next to her on a bedroll.

When she stood face to face with the large carved oak doors, her heart picked up its rhythm. She couldn’t help it, as years of memories, of love won and lost, rushed through her mind. Slowly, she raised her hand to knock.

It took about half a minute for the doors to open, an unfamiliar face staring back at her.

A vampire spawn, eyes red and glowing, looking at her with a cocked head.

“Can I help you?” he asked, giving her an appraising glance.

 Y/N let out a breath. “I’m here to see Astarion.”

“Master Ancunin is not taking any visitors. Not without a previous notice,” he said it almost with a sneer, but she just gave him a smile.

“Tell him an old friend has stopped by. From the times before.”

The vampire looked ready to scoff and throw the door closed in her face, but stopped as he was closing it, a recollection of something flashing across his features. Whether he recognised her as a hero of Baldur’s Gate, or maybe he recognised her from a story Astarion might’ve told didn’t matter, because whatever it was, hopefully would grant her this one meeting.

With that though, Y/N was left to wait outside, pretty much twiddling her thumbs. Astarion probably wouldn’t take it too kindly if she went and took a bloom, though it used to be something he did for her. He used to do so much for her…

About five minutes later, the same spawn appeared, opening the door and motioning for her to enter.

“Master Ancunin will be with you shortly.”

And once again, she was left awing at the hallway, this time completely alone. She guessed no one saw her as a threat, despite the fact she had felled many enemies, including the Absolute. But oh well. At least she didn’t have to awkwardly stand with a guard or something, trying to figure out what small talk to fill the silence with. This gave her a chance to have a look at her surroundings.

A grand staircase, looping up to both sides, stood in front of her, while the palace spiralled away to the right and left. The entrance itself was almost like a ballroom, and she was sure, Astarion had at least one, if not more. What would those look like? What would a ball itself in the Ancunin residence look like? Would there be dancing and singing? Would people be laughing?

She couldn’t imagine it. Not with how he had degraded her after Ascending, telling her to kneel, telling her he’d turn her into a spawn, not because he wanted to spend the rest of their eternities together, but because of the control he now wished to exert over her.

A vision of herself, a blood-red gown, her eyes matching the velvet he’d no doubt dress her in, flashed across her mind. And a beautiful pearl necklace cinched tightly, two large bite marks across the slant of the skin. A collar disguised as gems to tether her to him. One large gilded cage to keep her in.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t my darling, crawling back home.”

Astarion stood at the top of the staircase landing, bringing Y/N out of her pondering.

He was a vision, as he always had been, but now, were vulnerability and love had shone in his eyes, only wry amusement and cruelty were left in their place.

His steps echoed across the empty house as he made his way down, not taking his gaze away from her. Y/N could imagine how she looked to him – covered in dirt and dust from weeks of traveling, eyes hollowed by dark circles and hair a complete mess, skin cracked around her lips, its colour dull. Compared to his meticulously coifed locks, the intricate frock and trousers, and even his gem-covered boots, she was a disaster.

Despite the pain in her heart, Y/N managed a smile. “You look good, Astarion.”

He scoffed, coming to stand before her. “Of course, I look good. I always did. You just didn’t appreciate it. Have you come back to beg? I do like a bit of grovelling. Though after what you did, there might be more you have to do than just plead for me to take you back.”

She chuckled, shaking her head and looped her arm through his elbow, undoubtedly surprising him, as she took charge and led them to the left, no idea where the hallway was going to bring her to, otherwise she might start crying. “Tell me everything Astarion. I want to know how you’ve faired these past five years.”

Her nonchalance, her whole attitude had completely stunned him, something Y/N didn’t think she was capable of, but maybe it was good. Without having knocked him off balance a bit, he might’ve just turned her away, but she needed this conversation. This closure before the sickness took her.

Together they walked inside what turned out to be a dining room. Did he even need one? He didn’t eat human food, even though he was Ascended now, and could enjoy the tastes.

“I have to say,” he started, “I did not expect to see you again.”

Y/N sighed, looking at the paintings hung along the walls, at the gleaming chandeliers above. “Believe me, I did not expect to come either.”

“Then why are you here? If not to apologise for what you did, why bother wasting my time?”

The words stung, but she wasn’t going to tell him the real reason. It wouldn’t matter to him anyway. He told her he wished she died screaming, and though that might still be a possibility, it was more likely she would simply go to sleep one night and never wake up. “Because, although I do not believe I have anything to apologise for, I did wish to make amends. Life for us mortals, is so short… and the thought of living the rest of mine, without at least having tried, seemed… wrong.”

Astarion scoffed, but she could feel him tightening his elbow, as if he didn’t want her hand to slip from the crook it rested in. “I will not apologise for my decisions.”

“I am not asking you to,” Y/N said. “I simply wish for us to become friends once more. If only for the sake of sentimentality.”

“Sentiment,” Astarion sneered. “But what else can I expect from such a creature as a human.”

Y/N let out an amused huff, pressing down the real impact it left on her heart. He knew right where to cut, because when they’d been together during the tadpole adventure, she’d laid her soul bare to him. Told him all about her fears and hopes, how much of a hopeless romantic she was, so now, to tell her it was foolish to try and rekindle if only a friendship, was stupid… but she hadn’t expected more from this version of Astarion.

He’d already given much more time than she’d expected. Half of her had thought when the spawn would tell him who was at the door, he would take the chance and fulfil his words by killing her himself.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s what she’d told him when she’d tried to talk him out of the ritual. How he would be condemning seven thousand other lives. But he hadn’t cared. Astarion had believed he deserved the power, deserved to complete what Cazador couldn’t. Y/N couldn’t stand by and watch, nor would her conscience allow her to be by his side.

And so she’d left. Because there was nothing left of the man she’d fallen in love with. For these five years after, she’d avoided Baldur’s Gate, hearing from whispers and gossip how he’d risen in the ranks of politics and society, how brutal he could be to his servants and those who stood in his way, almost reminding her of when he’d talked about his Magistrate days, only amped to a hundred. A new, sickening Cazador at the helm.

“But how have you been, darling?” Astarion almost sounded bored as they moved into what passed for a living room in this palace, Y/N assumed. “What shenanigans have you caused?”

And so she told him. As a servant spawn brought a tea-set laying out two cups, though Astarion didn’t even pick his up, Y/N recounted how she’d gone all across the Sword Coast, had travelled over the seas and seen knew lands. How she’d done the things he’d promised they would do together.

“Sounds rather… dull,” he commented, lounging on the seat. “But I suppose to such simple minds and hearts as yours, it’s all very exciting and enthralling.”

She wanted to snap at him, remind how half of the ideas she’d completed, had been his, but instead, Y/N just took a deep breath. “Have you finally gotten everything you wanted, Astarion?” she asked instead. “Are you finally happy?”

That had been the true question plaguing her mind these past years.

He turned to look at her, eyes blazing. “I have power, status, people bow to my every whim. What more could I possibly want?”

“Then I’m happy for you,” she said, setting down her half-drunk tea. “Even if it means nothing to you anymore, I am happy you’ve finally gotten what you wished.”

An awkward silence settled between the two, and Y/N took it as her cue to wrap things up. “I best take my leave.”

“And where will you possibly go?” he sneered, but stood up alongside her, making their way back to the grand oak doors.

“Karlach and I are meeting up at a local tavern. And then we’re all going to the get together at Wyll’s. You would know that, had you come to the party Wither’s invited us all to.”

“And waste my time?” he scoffed. “No thanks. This conversation has done enough of that.”

By now they were at the doors, and Y/N turned around, taking in her final fill of the vampire. No doubt this would be the last time she ever saw him. “I hope you have a good life, Astarion. You deserve it. Despite how things went down between us, I do wish all the best for you.”

Slowly, she leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek. It was cold, but not as cold as she had been used to. No doubt he used every opportunity to lazy out in the sun, or feed on someone.

Just as she was about to exit, he grabbed her by the wrist, his hold tight and not something she’d be able to break out of.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes narrowed in on her, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N’s heart spiked. Was he really still that hurt, he would finally cash in on that revenge? She knew she would never be able to hurt him. No matter what, that romantic heart of hers would betray her.

He snapped her to his chest, her breath hitching in her lungs, as he leaned down by her neck and inhaled. Her frame was ramrod straight, not daring to move a muscle. When he finally moved back, anger and something else raged in his eyes. Was it… fear?

“Now, my dear, tell me the real reason you came here.”

“I -,”

“And don’t lie,” he hissed. “Because I can smell it on you. In your blood.”

“Smell what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Death.” And Y/N had to be hallucinating, because she was sure she heard his voice crack. “Sickness and death runs through your veins. It’s – it’s like acid.”

“What’s it matter, Astarion? What would any of it change?”

“It would chan-,” but he stopped himself.

Y/N leaned a bit closer, her Y/E/C eyes narrowed, trying to decipher what she was seeing on that stony face, but pulled back, shaking her head. “Maybe you will finally get your wish and I will die screaming.”

By the look on his face, she understood Astarion did not appreciate the comment. “You dare enter my home, under the pretences of lies and deceit,” but his vile words didn’t match what she could see brewing underneath – despair. If only she was still naïve enough to believe he felt anything else but contempt for her. “I deserve to know the truth.”

“But you do know it.” Y/N shrugged. “So I’m going to ask you once again – what does the knowledge that I am dying, change? I would still die someday. Whether it is in a week or in half a century, I would still die. What’s it matter?”

“Had you not been stupid, and accepted my offer of becoming a spawn, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Astarion spit, but didn’t release his grip.

“I did not come here to ask you to change me.” She placed her hand against where his heart should be beating, yet everything was still under her fingers. “I am not afraid of death. I am not happy its coming for me so quickly, but I would rather have my life end now, than live as a spawn.”

Hurt crossed his face. “Would living with me really be so repulsive to you?”

“Living as your slave would.” Y/N lifted her chin. “We would not be equals. You would never see me as the person I am, but rather as a thing to own. And I, for one, thought you would be the first person to understand why I would never choose such an option.”

This was not how she wanted them to part, but it seemed like it would once again leave them as enemies.

She pulled away from Astarion, and this time he let her.

“I hope one day you do understand my choices. Because as much as I disagree with yours, I have always accepted and understood them. Live Astarion, if only for yourself.”

Sunlight greeted her, as she opened the door, but she didn’t manage to put a single foot outside, when the vampire grabbed her by the nape of the neck, pulling her back in and slamming the door shut.

“I am sorry my dear, but that simply won’t do.”

Fear didn’t even get a chance to rush through her veins when everything went black.

It was a while before Y/N finally came to, but when she did, she was laid on a plush bed, body covered in a duvet, head resting against the softest pillow in the universe, and the sky outside was the violet of the setting day.

Horror struck her as her memories came to her – of Astarion pressing his palm against her nose and mouth, preventing her from breathing. Of how unconsciousness took over, while his red eyes glared at her fading form. But worse – the conversation they’d had right before that, about refusing to become a spawn.

Did he really hate her that much, he’d turn her against her will?

But instead of Astarion sitting in the room she found…

“Gale?” Y/N’s brow furrowed as she raised herself to her forearms on the mattress. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, you’re awake.” The wizard stood with a smile, walking to sit beside her. “How are you feeling?” He pressed a palm against her forehead, checking the temperature, and hummed when he deemed it to be normal.

“Fine,” she mumbled. “But again – what are you doing here?”

“Astarion called.”

“Astarion?” Y/N was befuddled. She would’ve assumed Gale would be the last person ever he would contact, well, last except for her. Especially if he’d turned her into a spawn. No doubt would their friends come to battle if they heard such a thing. And yet Gale seemed perfectly content in the vampire’s castle.

“He sent such a panicked message, I portaled here as quickly as the Weave would allow and-,”

Gale was stopped mid-sentence as the door clicked open.

But the man standing in the doorway wasn’t the Astarion she’d known before, the man she had fallen head over heels in love with, or even the Ascended Astarion she’d spoken to that day. No. This Astarion had eyes as bright green as freshly grown grass, cheeks red and full of life and the blunt incisors of a human, hope and shame shining in his irises.

She whipped her head to Gale. “What in the name of all the Hells did you two do?”

“We saved your life,” the now ex-vampire entered the room, his movements slow as if Y/N was a deer he would startle if he did anything quicker than the pace of a snail. “And I paid the price for it.”

She swallowed hard. “And what exactly was the price?”

“My immortality.”

Now, Y/N assumed she’d been cured as she was inclined to believe not only because of Astarion’s transformation, but because Gale so meticulously was counting her breaths and heartbeat, but that confession almost did take her out, the shock of it all.

She threw a wary glance at the wizard. “So – so I’m not a spawn?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head. “But I don’t blame you for believing I would do such a… vile thing.”

Heavy silence settled in the room when she finally turned to look at him. “But I thought you had everything you ever wanted.”

“I did so too,” he nodded. “But when I smelled it, that – that sickness in your blood… I guess it is true what they say – love is the most powerful magic of all. Because the thought of you dying – it did something to my head… my heart. I could not let that happen.”

Y/N surveyed him, the new person standing before her. “You gave up everything for me. All the power… everything…”

“I won’t lie – I almost gave into the temptation, I almost did bite you. But these past five years were… miserable. And the thought of living the rest of eternity with the knowledge you hated me before you died… it wasn’t something I could do. Even with all the power in the world, the one weakness I have never been able to rid myself of is you.”

Neither noticed Gale clear his throat and motion towards the door, and neither noticed how it shut behind the wizard, leaving them on their own.

She watched as Astarion crossed the room, and sat himself down at the very foot of the bed, eyes locked onto the fingers in his lap. He was still as graceful as ever, but no longer was there this predatory supernatural sense to it. Now he was more a ballet dancer, than a stalking panther.

“So what happens now?”

“Now,” he sighed. “Now I don’t know. I didn’t really think further than Gale performing the ritual and hoping it would be enough.”

“Am I… immortal now?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, and his smile was so warm, it almost knocked her back down to the bed. “You’re as human, as human can be. Only healthy now. Hopefully with many a decade before you yet to be lived.”

“And you?” she had to address the elephant in the room. “What exactly are you now?”

“I,” he sighed and looked at the wall. No, not the wall, but a large mirror, his eyes boring into the ones of his reflection. “I am what I was before Cazador. As common as a high elf can be.”

“I just don’t understand,” Y/N said. “I don’t get why you would do such a thing. Seven thousand spawn died for you to gain all that power, for you to prove you could complete what Cazador couldn’t. How could you just throw it all away?”

Astarion sighed, standing up and moving to the other side of the room where a large open door stood, leading out to a balcony. He leaned against the railing, and Y/N finally got out of the bed.

She could feel the strength having returned to her muscles. No longer did they ache, no longer did her bones scream, no longer did she feel tired and weak. A new zeal of life had filled her, and she couldn’t get why Astarion had given it all up for her to – what? Live maybe just a couple of more decades?

Together they leaned on the marble railing, overlooking the lush gardens, the flowers now a duller colour, but still as beautiful in moonlight, as they were in the sun.

“For five years I imagined what I would do if you showed up on my doorstep,” Astarion started. “There were times I imagined taking you and putting you in chains, dragging you to a dungeon and inflicting unspeakable pain, because that’s how it felt when you left. I wanted to do nothing but hurt you. And then I imagined how you would have come to your senses, how you would come and beg me to turn you into a spawn, finally realising your place was always beside me.”

He looked at her. “But then you did turn up. And all I could do was barely hold it together and not kiss you then and there. When you said you were dying, but that it would be a better life than with me, something… something cracked. Whether it was my sense coming back to me, the part of my brain that made good decisions being released from a prison of power, I don’t know.” Astarion chuckled. “But the only thing running through my head was – the one person that has always loved you selflessly, is dying. And you’re a pathetic coward that can’t do anything to stop it.”

“When Gale told me there was a way to heal you, but it would cost me, somehow I didn’t even pause to think. I just told him to do it. If the price for you being able to live a fulfilled life was having my power, my immortality stripped away, he could’ve for all I cared, spilled all my blood and let me bleed dry. As long as it meant you were here – living and breathing.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what you would’ve done. And I couldn’t be bested by a dying woman. Would turn you into a full martyr, and I couldn’t have someone outshining me like that.”

Y/N wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, letting out a choked back laugh. “What was the ritual?”

“Apparently Gale had been looking at certain transfers of power for a while.” Astarion shrugged. “When I contacted him, I didn’t even have anything specific in mind, I just knew he would probably be the best at figuring out what, if anything, could be done. Of course, had the answer been negative, it would not have ended well for our dear wizard, but you understand my point.”

“Well, I am glad Gale is still in one piece.” Y/N looked at him as she slowly covered his palm with hers. Astarion’s breath hitched, when she intertwined their fingers. “And I am grateful to the both of you for what you did. But I will forever be in debted to you.”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, tightening his hold, as if terrified she’d slip away like sand. “There is no debt to be repaid. Actually, I think I should be the one thanking you. For showing up. For even thinking I was worth enough to say goodbye to, but I have to ask… Were you ever going to tell? Had I not smelled it on you, would you have ever told anyone? Because when I told Gale, he was so stunned, I almost thought he would join you and pass out.”

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “By the time I decided I had to see you at least once more before I… well, you know… I’d already met all of our friends individually. I had thought of asking Shadowheart if there was a spell maybe, but ultimately, no.”

“Why would you keep something like that to yourself?”

“I didn’t feel like burdening the others.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ve all gone through so much darkness, have so much else to worry about, I didn’t want to add more to that.”

“Surely you know those idiots would ride blindfolded into battle for you.”

“I do. But it’s not like I would want that. Besides… if those were to be my last days, I wanted them to be filled with joy and fun things. Not with Halsin worrying if such excitement was healthy for me, or Lae’Zel scolding me for certain decisions. And let’s not even mention Karlach who’d cross the world searching for a cure that might not even exist.”

“And you left me for last…”

Y/N bit down hard on her lip. “Because it took everything in me to get over the hurt. Get over what you did and said. Because I was terrified you would slam the door in my face if I showed up.”

A tear rolled down his own cheek, as he bit the inside of it. “A fair assumption. And maybe if you’d come earlier, I would have. But… deep down I knew, I would have done everything to try and make you stay. Even through the haze of that power… my heart has always been yours. And still is. If you will have it.”

The words coming out of her mouth hurt, but they had to be said, despite how ardently she wished to say yes and return to how things were. But she knew she couldn’t neither of them could. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Astarion.” She could see him visibly shrink down, tears now unabated as they flowed like rivers from his eye. He wanted to pull away, but she didn’t let him, holding onto his hand tighter, running a soothing thumb over his hand, so warm and alive under her touch, it made her sigh.

 “You’ve just regained yourself.” Y/N tried to give what was an endearing smile, but was probably more a grimace.  “You’ve just become an elf again… there is so much you need to grasp and realise… I don’t think a relationship is what would be good right now.”

Two green eyes met her Y/E/C ones. Gods, the colour was so gorgeous, she felt like drowning in his gaze. “The only thing I was ever sure of in my life was you. Even as an Ascended bastard. And then I blew it. Absolutely smashed my chance to pieces like an idiot, but… if you’ll allow it. I would like another try. If only at being someone worthy to stand by your side.”

Y/N felt her lips quirk up. “Would it be overtly presumptuous of me to think, that by the end of it, you would wish to be more than friends?”

“If I am only allowed to be your friends, I will fall to my knees before you and beg for the chance. But no longer will I lie and say my true intentions aren’t to hopefully, one day, get on one knee, and wish for a shared life.”

She had not seen such a version of Astarion, so candid and vulnerable, since leaving him. And for him to be so open, made some resolve in her melt a bit. “We can try. Slowly.”

It was like a boulder had rolled off Astarion’s chest, his whole body visibly shuddering in relief, before he tentatively, as if waiting for her rejection, weaved a hand around her waist.

She rested her head against his shoulder, revelling in the feeling of him pressing his cheek to the top of it. And when he tilted her chin up, a hopeful gaze in his eyes as it slipped to her lips, she didn’t stop him when he pressed his mouth to hers.

It was like surfacing for a breath after years of being pulled down in an abyss, something Y/N never thought she’d be able to do again. And that kiss – it was filled with so much love, she didn’t need oxygen to breathe.

There was still a world of hurt between then, a universe of making up to be done, but they had time. They had all the time they wanted or could need.

“To a new start, my love.” She muttered against his lips, and the smile Astarion gave her was more brilliant than the moon and stars shining in the sky combined.

“And to a life worth living.”

The next kiss they shared sure as hells was.

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: My tags are always open

Please don't repost onto other platforms! That is called plaigarism :)

I also had an idea of writing this from Astarion's POV, so if that is something of interest, do let me know :)

[storiesofmyhead]

Alastor x Reader

Summary: When Alastor's wife goes out on a shopping trip, only to remember it was extermination day.

Warnings! Swearing, Hazbin Hotel, Use of y/n

Word Count: 876

Humming the doe walks down the sidewalk looking into each window of every store, deciding whether they were worth going into or not. Though as she began down another part of the sidewalk stores began to close. One after the other, sinners nailed boards up on their windows and locked their doors.

“What the fuck is going on?” She mutters, her horns growing bigger every store that closed. 

Growling she rolls her eyes and begins to make her way back to the hotel.

“So much for a shopping day.” 

Turning back around, the walk back to the hotel begins. 

“AHHHHHHH” A scream interrupts the once silent town.

More and more overlap each other. Quickly Y/n searches the sky, her eyes widening at the exterminators that now fill the sky.

“Shit!” She yells now breaking into a full sprint back to the hotel. 

“Ahhh, Hello sinner.” An exterminator drops in front of her, stopping her.

Taking a step back, Y/n’s eyes fall on the weapon the exterminator holds out in front of them.

“Seems as if it’s your time.” They giggle. “Again.” 

Antlers growing, Y/n’s eyes dilate, as a giant grin as sinister as Alastor’s grows onto her face. The exterminator seems to hesitate at the now growing figure of the sinner before them, but they continue anyway.

Giggles erupt from Y/n’s chest, causing the exterminator to stop. “You ruined my shopping day. And now you threaten me.” Her grin grows deeper, her sharp teeth now on full display. “I believe you owe me an apology.”

The exterminator tries to stick their ground, letting out a weak chuckle. “An apology. Sinners don’t deserve apologies.” 

“Oh.” Her eyes darken. “Ok.”

~~

“Charlie, have you seen my darling Y/n?” Alastor’s voice interrupts her conversation with Vaggy.

Charlie jumps slightly at Alastor’s sudden appearance before humming in thought. “Actually, no. I don’t recall seeing her recently. Sorry.” Charlie gasps. “I hope she’s okay. It’s extermination day.” Now worried Charlie pulls Vaggy up. “We’ll help look for her. Come on V.”

Alastor nods, narrowing his eyes at the ground, trying to think if she had mentioned anything before.

Before Charlie and Vaggy have the opportunity to leave to look for Y/n, the door to the hotel slams open. Revealing the exact person Alastor had been looking for.

“Al.” She whimpers, dropping to the ground.

Alastor quickly moves to Y/n’s body that lays motionless, except for her chest that softly moves up and down at each breath. Moving her head to his lap, his eyes search her body for any injuries, finding small scratches and bruises, lifting her cardigan that he had so graciously given her he revealed a giant gash on her side.

Behind him Charlie and Vaggy move to help, but are stopped when loud static noise fills the space around him. 

"̵̨̺̻͇͖̖̫̪̫̗̩͕̀S̴̛̞̭͚͆̾͆͑͐͒̇̅̊̚͝͠t̸̺͔̞̥̻̊͜a̴̡̡͙͋̅̓̓̐̏̈̐͝y̴̰̤͓̣̫̱̯͉͔̫̙͓͈̻͙̔̆̉̒̆̒̊͐̚͝.̶̢̲̤͔̞̩͚̱̭̭̱͕͖̋̀̎̄̇́̈́̽ ̵̡̡̰̲̜͓͚̦̲̭̼̤͙̜̩̂͐́̊̀̉B̷͚̲͓͎̏͒́̇̅́̕a̵̡̬̱̙̙̰̮̹̋̋̆̆̎̐̀̑̔͐̾͘͜c̶̨̼̱̼̫̰̥̤̳̏͑̉̀̎̈́́̃͆̉̓̀͘͝͠k̷̛̻̖͍̬̖̗̩̝̫͈̏͑͋́̒͊͌͛͘̚͠"̵̛̝̜̭̙̄̇̐̐̓̊̎̂͑̌͘ͅ He utters, his antlers growing large, as his shadows cover both him and Y/n before they disappear from the two girls view.

~~

Her eyes fling open at the sting on her side. Screaming her body tries to move away from whatever was causing her the pain, only to not move an inch.

“ALASTOR!” She screams.

His hand lays on her head as he rubs her ears. “I know darling.” His voice emitting more static than he meant for. Clearing his throat he speaks again. “I’m almost done. Just one more.”

Her whimpers echo in his mind. As much as he loved hearing others' pain, this was the only situation he hated it.

“Done.” He smoothed down Y/n’s hair, allowing his shadows to put away all the supplies he was using to dress her wounds. Now although she could heal without them dressings, the provided a safe barrier so they wouldn't reopen.

Her eyes finally found his face, only to see a frown in place of his usual grin.

“Al.” Her voice comes out as weak, as she watches him sit back down next to her. But no matter how many times she had said his name he wouldn't look at her.

“I’m supposed to protect you. Never let you get hurt. I f̸̥̦̖̝͇̗̯̪̳̪̩̘͙̊́̒ȃ̶͍̺͈̩̒̈́̎̾̃̾͛͑͝ī̴̧̧͖͓̙̟̙͊̄̅̾̀͊̊̕̚͝l̷̺̯̳̤͖̪̩̪͗̎̃͌͛̀̄̋̒́̆͋̿͘ẽ̶̮͚̣̊̏̐̑͐̃̎̾̊̾͛͋̅͘ḑ̴̘͖͚͎̠̪̱͇̅̈́͑̈͑ ̸̧̞̱̝͚̤̱̘͖͖͉͊͗̏̍̈́̆̽́͒͘̚͜y̶̭͕͍̰͋ǒ̵͈̦͇̝̲̻̀͋͗̆̈́́͊̀̿̽͠͠u̴̡̺̭̼̞̘̭̭̲̣̮̣̞͗͌͐͋̅̋̔͂͜͜.” His voice broke in static at the end.

“Al. Please look at me.” She begged, lifting her hand to his face turning it towards her. “You didn't fail me. I left on my own. It was my fault.” 

“No.” His eyes wide as he quickly leaned towards her. “It’s not your fault-”

“And it’s not yours. Ok?” She smiles. “Now get in bed. I’m tired.” She yawns, moving over, only wincing a bit at the gash on her side.

Shaking his head, Alastor shrugs off his jacket, laying it on the back of the chair he had been sitting on before. Lifting up the comforter, he slides under it and softly pulls Y/n into his chest. Cradling her, one arm wrapped around her waist and one arm wrapped around her head playing softly with her ears. 

Humming Y/n nuzzles her head deeper into Alastor’s chest, her tail wiggling around in content, causing Alastor to chuckle as it moved the blanket behind her. 

“G’night” She mumbles sleepily, before finally letting the exhaustion take over.

“Good night, my love.” He smiles softly.

[kayas-kosmos]

Because of what's happening on Twitter...

I've made a little diagram to demonstrate why billionaires and the ultra-wealthy are bad for society.

(Text in Image)

"If we view society as a body, every sector is like a different organ within the body that serves a function and works in harmony with other organs to maintain balance. Every part of the body is important for the whole thing to function."

"The ultra-wealthy want you to believe they are the beating heart and thinking mind of the society – they are the innovators who create our jobs and their brilliance drives society forward. They deserve to be at the top of society because they have earned that. Without them, the body won’t function because they are the most important part."

"In reality, they are more like a malignant tumour, sucking all of the blood (resources) away from everything else (people and the planet) to fuel its own infinite growth, depriving the rest of the body and slowly killing it. Workers create all of the innovation and keep things running, the ultra-wealthy take all the credit."

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

This is a public domain image so feel free to pinch it for whatever.

Elon Musk has put the careers of thousands of small business owners who depend on Twitter (myself included) in jeopardy by completely running it into the ground. Before this, Mark Zuckerberg had already been doing the same when he started pursuing Metaverse, making Instagram and Facebook much more unusable for artists. Do I really need to go into other examples of CEOs and very normalised practise of wage theft?

Meanwhile, the UK currently has the richest Prime Minister in its history. What is this man doing with this wealth? Continuing the Tory legacy of austerity in order to line his pockets and the pockets of his crony friends. This has resulted in a devastating cost of living crisis that continues to ravage the country as people's energy bills skyrocket out of control.

My diagram is pretty basic and lacks nuance, there's definitely more I could elaborate on with this comparison but I really don't have time. I just want people to get the basic point of how billionaires view themselves vs what function they actually serve. I'm also not here to debate whether some organs are more important than others since I'm not a doctor, that's not really the point here. And no, I don't care if people think I'm being harsh by comparing billionaires to a tumour. If they don't want to be compared to one they should stop acting like one. Jeff Bezos could end world hunger right now and chooses not to.

Also, I know a lot of people are going to come at me with the argument that billionaires give away massive amounts of money. First off, people like Jeff Bezos only give large sums of money to charity a.) for the sake of improving their public image and b.) because giving to charity allows them to write it off in their taxes. Also, charities in of themselves have a lot of problems, but that's a blog post for another day. Mutual Aid is a better way to help people directly. Really, the ultra wealthy need to be taxed, of course they do everything within their power to avoid taxes.

Also:

"Earning a lot of money" and "holding onto a lot of money" are two different things. You cannot be a multi-millionaire unless you hold onto that money. If you give away massive chunks of it to enrich society, you cease to be a billionaire.

Oh and this is worth a watch, too.

Furthermore:

Also before the inevitable great man comments:

Being a billionaire is a moral failing. Nobody needs that much money.

[Slight edit here - I made the assertion that a billionaire could not spend all of their money in their lifetime, but as someone in the comments pointed out it's very easy for them to completely waste billions in no time. Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg have shown that].

Anyway, if you would like to see more anti-Capitalist art from me, I am currently working on a webcomic called "Flowerpunk" - a story about a group of anarchists who are trying to save the city of Wyrdon from a supernatural plague known as "the rot." The comic heavily discusses disaster Capitalism and how the rich will use mass death and destruction as an opportunity to further line their pockets.

I also like to do little anti-Capitalist doodles relating to this project, which I plan to make into posters at some point.

Please consider donating a Ko-Fi also if you would like to help support this project. I am really struggling at the moment because I've basically lost a massive chunk of my client base due to this Twitter implosion and also because of the AI BS that has made it impossible for me to get any reach nowadays. The last year or so has been an absolute nightmare for my career because of all of this.

Thank you all for your continued support! Hopefully I can re-establish my audience here on Tumblr and wherever else I decide to go.

[centrally-unplanned]

Gonna make this a quick one since I just don’t have the spoons for a really big effort post: Pre-CCP 20th Century China Did Not Have Feudal or Slave-like Land Tenancy Systems

Obviously what counts as “slave-like” is going to be subjective, but I think it's common, for *ahem* reasons, for people to believe that in the 1930’s Chinese agriculture was dominated by massive-scale, absentee landlords who held the large majority of peasant workers in a virtual chokehold and dictated all terms of labor.

That is not how Chinese land ownership & agricultural systems worked. I am going to pull from Chinese Agriculture in the 1930s: Investigations into John Lossing Buck’s Rediscovered ‘Land Utilization in China’ Microdata, which is some of the best ground-level data you can get on how land use functioned, in practice, in China during the "Nanjing Decade" before WW2 ruins all data collection. It looks at a series of north-central provinces, which gives you the money table of this:

On average, 4/5ths of Chinese peasants owned land, and primarily farmed land that they owned. Tenancy was, by huge margins, the minority practice. I really don’t need to say more than this, but I'm going to because there is a deeper point I want to make. And it's fair to say that while this is representative of Northern China, Southern China did have higher tenancy rates - not crazy higher, but higher.

So let's look at those part-owner farmers; sounds bad right? Like they own part of their land, but it's not enough? Well, sometimes, but sometimes not:

A huge class (about ~1/3rd) of those part-owners were farming too much land, not too little; they were enterprising households renting land to expand their businesses. They would often engage in diversified production, like cash crops on the rented land and staple crops on their owned land. Many of them would actually leave some of their owned land fallow, because it wasn’t worth the time to farm!

Meanwhile the small part-owners and the landless tenant farmers would rent out land to earn a living…sometimes. Because that wasn’t the only way to make a living - trades existed. From our data, if you are a small part-owner, you got a substantial chunk of your income from non-farm labor; if you owned no land you got the majority of your income from non-farm labor:

(Notice how that includes child labor by default, welcome to pre-modernism!)

So the amount of people actually doing full-tenancy agriculture for a living is…pretty small, less than 10% for sure. But what did it look like for those who do? The tenancy rates can be pretty steep - 50/50 splits were very common. But that is deceiving actually; this would be called “share rent”, but other systems, such as cash rents, bulk crop rents, long-term leases with combined payment structures, etc, also existed and were plentiful - and most of those had lower rent rates. However, share rent did two things; one, it hedged against risk; in the case of a crop failure you weren't out anything as the tenant, a form of insurance. And two, it implied reciprocal obligations - the land owner was providing the seed, normally the tools as well, and other inputs like fertilizer.

Whether someone chose one type of tenancy agreement or the other was based on balancing their own labor availability, other wage opportunities, the type of crop being grown, and so on. From the data we have, negotiations were common around these types of agreements; a lot of land that was share rent one year would be cash rent another, because the tenants and market conditions shifted to encourage one or the other form.

I’m doing a little trick here, by throwing all these things at you. Remember the point at the top? “Was this system like slavery?” What defines slavery? To me, its a lack of options - that is the bedrock of a slave system. Labor that you are compelled by law to do, with no claim on the output of that work. And as I hit you with eight tiers of land ownership and tenancy agreements and multi-source household incomes, as you see that the median person renting out land to a tenant farmer was himself a farmer as a profession and by no means some noble in the city, what I hope becomes apparent is that the Chinese agricultural system was a fully liquid market based on choice and expected returns. By no means am I saying that it was a nice way to live; it was an awful way to live. But nowhere in this system was state coercion the bedrock of the labor system. China’s agricultural system was in fact one of the most free, commercial, and contract-based systems on the planet in the pre-modern era, that was a big source of why China as a society was so wealthy. It was a massive, moving market of opportunities for wages, loans, land ownership, tenancy agreements, haggled contracts, everyone trying in their own way to make the living that they could.

It's a system that left many poor, and to be clear injustices, robberies, corruption, oh for sure were legion. Particularly during the Warlord Era mass armies might just sweep in and confiscate all your hard currency and fresh crops. But, even ignoring that the whole ‘poverty’ thing is 90% tech level and there was no amount of redistribution that was going to improve that very much, what is more important is that the pre-modern world was *not* equally bad in all places. The American South was also pretty poor, but richer than China in the 19th century. And being a slave in the American South was WAY worse than being a peasant in China during times of peace - because Confederate society built systems to remove choice, to short-circuit the ebb and flow of the open system to enshrine their elite ‘permanently’ at the top. If you lived in feudal Russia it was a good deal worse, with huge amounts of your yearly labor compelled by the state onto estates held by those who owned them unimpeachably by virtue of their birthright (though you were a good deal richer just due to basic agriculture productivity & population density, bit of a tradeoff there).

If you simply throw around the word “slavery” to describe every pre-modern agricultural system because it was poor and shitty, that back-doors a massive amount of apologia for past social systems that were actively worse than the benchmarks of the time. Which is something the CCP did; their diagnosis of China’s problem for the rural poor of needing massive land redistribution was wrong! It was just wrong, it was not the issue they were having. It was not why rural China was often poor and miserable. It could help, sure, I myself would support some compensated land redistribution in the post-war era as a welfare idea for a fiscally-strapped state. But that was gonna do 1% of the heavy lifting here in making the rural poor's lives better. And I don’t think we should continue to the job of spreading the CCP's propaganda for them.

There ya go @chiefaccelerator, who alas I was not permitted to compel via state force into writing this for me, you Qing Dynasty lazy peasant.

[cerise-on-top]

Hank with an Eldritch Horror Reader

Here's another thing I wrote two years back! It was an interesting concept which I really liked, so I actually really enjoyed writing this request!

Hank J Wimbleton was a grunt of many things, but not one to be scared unless he had a good reason to be. There were many things in this world he did not understand, you were one of them. Upon meeting you, his first instinct would have been to either fight or run away - who could blame him, it was all he knew. No matter how many times you reassured him that the very last thing you wanted to do was to harm him, he’d draw his weapon, uncertain of whether or not he should believe your words.

Once you show no resistance towards him whatsoever and simply restrain him using your powers or other methods, that’s when, thrashing around as much as he could, he would start listening. You may or may not have seen a grunt up close, but this was your chance to finally examine one. As you scrutinise him from every possible angle Hank realises that you were simply curious about his being and finally lowers weapon.

Your voice would likely hurt his head and freeze the blood in his veins, so you might have to resort to telepathy or speak through a marionette, if you can find one. Though, once Hank’s interest in you has been piqued, he’d be more than happy to find you one. A lot of people in Nevada seem to be redundant in the first place. Regarding telepathy: You will be able to have a two-way conversation with Hank like that, but, for the most part, he doesn’t think in words. Still, he can do so, if needed.

If you’re on the rather small side, he will make an effort to pick you up, or hold you, and bring you back to base. Depending on whether you can float or not, this might be rather difficult, but he’ll try. If you’re large, however, then he will simply “tell” you to follow him. As an eldritch being you could likely either change your form or scare away anyone in your path in the first place, so he doesn’t particularly worry about anyone being stupid enough to attack you.

Spend time with him, he’ll get used to you more and more and, eventually, grow a bond with you. Proud, he’ll show you to Doc so he can figure out what you are, but do not be fooled. Hank wants to know what you are to some degree too. Once comfortable with you and certain you won’t harm him, he’ll start observing you, touching you to some degree. See how you react, how you feel, how you are.

Despite your conversations being, for the most part, one-sided, Hank will ask you directly what you are and if you’re some form of eldritch deity. Since you’re an amicable creature he can’t exactly wrap his head around, it’s worth a try.

Although he would like to do so to some degree, he won’t take you with him on missions. It’s his way of saying “I care a great deal about you, I don’t want you to die or worse even if you are capable of defending yourself.” If you really insist on aiding him, he will let you, begrudgingly. But beware that he will have your back. In fact, having you around will give him a greater reason to fight and improve his overall performance. Though, it will also be a major stress factor to him if something were to happen to you, so choose wisely.

[aspd-culture]

What’s the difference between remorse and shame?

So remorse is inherent to having had done something wrong. While getting caught/the risk thereof, if someone got hurt emotionally or otherwise, the potential for social consequences, etc can *add* to that remorse, none of that is what causes it. Instead it is a societally built instinct that becomes an uncontrollable part of brain development quite early in life, though as we see in pwASPD it can be removed entirely or diluted by circumstances that make it useless, dangerous, or otherwise cause a child to believe other people don't feel that way. That instinct defines a bad and good and if you do something bad you feel this itch to make it up to anyone involved, to tell people what you did, to try and get forgiveness and atone for whatever it is you did, and even after all of that there will still be that feeling of remorse. It is this thing in the pit of your stomach nagging you about what you did wrong - not because of any effect it may have on you, and it occurs even if there is 0 chance it will affect you in any way - and not letting you forget about it.

Shame is a different social response, and in typical development, comes from perceived risk of social consequences (if people found out they'd hate me, so I must be bad and I shouldn't have done it) and a hit to self-esteem/self-worth on the basis that they did whatever they did. It can also come from PTSD as a trauma response, or OCD. As a trauma response, doing something that may have caused a valued adult or caregiver or even a friend that was taking a somewhat caregiving role for you will cause this shame as you risk falling out of favor with someone who is safe. You don't want them to see you in a negative light because their opinion of you directly affects how you feel about yourself. As an OCD obsession it can come from being either labelled as bad as a child and your brain taking that in and becoming extremely paranoid about good vs evil and which side you stand on, or for someone who is kind and caring and "good" by social standards and values that, as an attack on something you value most - as that is what OCD does by definition. Shame is a part of the anxiety needed to keep humans in packs back when we were surviving in small groups in the "wild" rather than in established towns/cities/civilization of any sort. If a human were to be cut off from the pack due to distaste towards them, it would be the end of them almost certainly. Humans were weaker to the elements, starvation, dehydration, and predators at the time, so you needed the protection that came in numbers both for the ability to keep food/water/shelter around and for the fact that animals were less likely to attack a group of humans than a single one. It was literally life or death if people liked you enough to keep you around, and so there is a very strong response built into humans' brains to keep social favor towards them - that's what we call shame.

So shame has something to do with how you view yourself or how others view you (and the potential consequences thereof), while remorse is an instinct that does not care about consequences, whether anyone knows, your opinion of yourself, etc. Remorse just is because of the fact that you did the thing. It's considered disingenuous to apologize or attempt to make amends exclusively on shame, and remorse is a large part of the social dance expected when someone knows you did something wrong. In fact, perceived remorse is a large part of court proceedings and legal decisions such as parole/probation vs jail time, length of sentence, etc. "You should be ashamed of yourself" is a bit of a misnomer, because really what they want is for you to feel an instinctual suffering as a result of having had done something wrong.

I hope this made sense; as always anyone is welcome to send in another ask for clarification if it didn't.

Plain text below the cut:

So remorse is inherent to having had done something wrong. While getting caught/the risk thereof, if someone got hurt emotionally or otherwise, the potential for social consequences, etc can *add* to that remorse, none of that is what causes it. Instead it is a societally built instinct that becomes an uncontrollable part of brain development quite early in life, though as we see in pwASPD it can be removed entirely or diluted by circumstances that make it useless, dangerous, or otherwise cause a child to believe other people don't feel that way. That instinct defines a bad and good and if you do something bad you feel this itch to make it up to anyone involved, to tell people what you did, to try and get forgiveness and atone for whatever it is you did, and even after all of that there will still be that feeling of remorse. It is this thing in the pit of your stomach nagging you about what you did wrong - not because of any effect it may have on you, and it occurs even if there is 0 chance it will affect you in any way - and not letting you forget about it.

Shame is a different social response, and in typical development, comes from perceived risk of social consequences (if people found out they'd hate me, so I must be bad and I shouldn't have done it) and a hit to self-esteem/self-worth on the basis that they did whatever they did. It can also come from PTSD as a trauma response, or OCD. As a trauma response, doing something that may have caused a valued adult or caregiver or even a friend that was taking a somewhat caregiving role for you will cause this shame as you risk falling out of favor with someone who is safe. You don't want them to see you in a negative light because their opinion of you directly affects how you feel about yourself. As an OCD obsession it can come from being either labelled as bad as a child and your brain taking that in and becoming extremely paranoid about good vs evil and which side you stand on, or for someone who is kind and caring and "good" by social standards and values that, as an attack on something you value most - as that is what OCD does by definition. Shame is a part of the anxiety needed to keep humans in packs back when we were surviving in small groups in the "wild" rather than in established towns/cities/civilization of any sort. If a human were to be cut off from the pack due to distaste towards them, it would be the end of them almost certainly. Humans were weaker to the elements, starvation, dehydration, and predators at the time, so you needed the protection that came in numbers both for the ability to keep food/water/shelter around and for the fact that animals were less likely to attack a group of humans than a single one. It was literally life or death if people liked you enough to keep you around, and so there is a very strong response built into humans' brains to keep social favor towards them - that's what we call shame.

So shame has something to do with how you view yourself or how others view you (and the potential consequences thereof), while remorse is an instinct that does not care about consequences, whether anyone knows, your opinion of yourself, etc. Remorse just is because of the fact that you did the thing. It's considered disingenuous to apologize or attempt to make amends exclusively on shame, and remorse is a large part of the social dance expected when someone knows you did something wrong. In fact, perceived remorse is a large part of court proceedings and legal decisions such as parole/probation vs jail time, length of sentence, etc. "You should be ashamed of yourself" is a bit of a misnomer, because really what they want is for you to feel an instinctual suffering as a result of having had done something wrong.

I hope this made sense; as always anyone is welcome to send in another ask for clarification if it didn't.

[kelcemenow]

As The Snow Falls - Chapter 5.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2629

Warnings Some angst, some mentions of controlling behaviour and past trauma, slight smut and strong language.

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

"So, what are you going to do?" Amie looked at you with wide eyes.

You held your stare on the view out of the large window, the trees dusted in crisp, white snow, "I have no clue."

Amie sighed before taking a sip of her coffee, "Isn't it funny? If you'd have just both told each other how you felt back then, this whole situation may not have even happened."

"Yes, I see the painful irony."

"Like, you two could've been a couple by now."

"Amie-"

She widened her eyes, "You could've been married to him!"

You looked up in frustration, "Alright, stop it!"

Amie shrugged her shoulders and sank down in her chair. You took a deep breath and stared into your mug, a small amount of milk froth swirling on top of the brown liquid. You liked Travis, you liked him a lot. His presence caused you excitement, almost making you feel like you were back in college with a crush again. There was undeniable chemistry between the both of you and a sexual tension that you could hardly stand but something was holding you back.

"You're worried about being hurt again, aren't you?"

"I'm always worried about being hurt again."

Amie tipped her head, leaning forward to reach for your hand, "You need to let that go. You're never going to truly move on and be happy if you don't."

You could feel a lump forming in your throat, "But what if he finds me again?" You whispered.

Amie shifted to the edge of her seat, "And what if he doesn't?"

"I could never bring that drama onto Travis, it's not fair. It's not worth the risk." Your voice trembled.

"What's up, bitches?" Jasmine shouted as she pranced over to the window.

You turned away slightly to avoid her gaze and Amie retreated from you, smiling at Jasmine, "Hey, what's up?"

"Travis is rich, right?"

Amie glared at Jasmine whilst you looked at her from the corner of your eye.

"What do you mean?" Amie questioned.

Jasmine settled into the spare armchair that was situated next to you, her hands running through her hair, "You know, he's rich. He's just won the Super...something. So, he's gonna have some money behind him. He's famous. Not my idea of famous, but sports famous."

You snorted a sarcastic laugh which attracted her attention.

"Look, I know, you two were having some kind of moment in the hot tub earlier but I was thinking of asking him out." She crossed her arms, "I just wanted to check whether it was worth my time?"

Amie's mouth gaped open as she listened and looked to you for your reaction.

You stayed silent, clenching your jaw as she continued.

"He's brutally hot, don't get me wrong, but I need more than that. I need someone who can...keep up with me and my lifestyle, you know, financially."

You pressed your lips together and furrowed your brows, holding your nerve and your tongue as much as you could.

"So, what do you guys think?" She glanced between you and Amie with expectant eyes.

Amie cleared her throat gently, "I think, maybe you should get to know him a little better? See if you two are compatible?"

Jasmine laughed, "Oh, please. I'm compatible with everyone." She stood up from the chair and turned to you, "Y/N, can you put in a good word for me? You two seem...close." She said with a smirk.

"Uhhh, y-yeah sure." You stuttered.

You both watched as she floated away, her hips swinging and her head turning, seemingly in search for Travis.

Amie leaned forward to you, whispering, "You're not going to actually do it, are you?"

You shrugged your shoulder, "Yeah. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

"What kind of friend-? Are you kidding?" She hissed, "She has been vile lately. I mean, she's always been a bit...you know, but honestly, I think she's getting worse, Y/N. I can't believe you don't see it, she's walking all over you! Just like-"

"Just like Aaron did, is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes! He did and she's doing the same." Her face softened slightly, "I want you back, Y/N. I want the Y/N I know and love and became best friends with over three bottles of red wine and a Cup O Noodles!"

You exhaled a laugh and hung your head, "I'm still here...somewhere." Sighing, you rested back against the wall, "I didn't know if you had realised the date but it's been a year since I left him."

Amie nodded gently, "Yeah, I'd noticed but I didn't want to make a big deal about it."

"A whole year, and he's still looming over me. Every date I go on, every new city I move to, every time I just walk down the street, I'm still worried that he's there. I answered my front door for the first time without panicking last week and I almost broke down crying at how amazing it felt. That's not normal, Amie."

"It is for someone who has been through what you've been through."

You smiled meekly, "Even if it is, I'm tired of it." You looked around the room, "I'm just tired full stop. I think I'm going to have an early night."

"That's probably a good idea. You've got an early ski date in the morning." She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, stop it."

"What?" Amie laughed, "You told me you wanted to have an early ski in the morning and Travis apparently said the same thing. No reason you two can't go together?"

"I suppose so." You said as you rolled your eyes.

Amie giggled and reached across, pulling you in for a hug, "Just enjoy it. Relax...and see what happens."

You held your mug to your lips, hiding the growing smile of excitement on your face when Travis appeared at the top of the staircase.

"Ladies." He nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a little longer.

Amie stood up, smiling, "You'd best have your wits about you, Jasmine's on a hunt for you."

Travis quickly scanned the room, "What? Really?"

You pressed your lips together, "Yeah. She's set her sights on you and usually if Jasmine wants something, she gets it."

Travis laughed, "Well, she ain't getting me, man."

Amie threw her arm around Travis' shoulders, needing to lift up onto her tip toes to reach him, "It takes a brave man to deny the princess, I wish you all the luck in the world." She squeezed him before walking away.

Travis raised his eyebrows at you and turned on his heels, heading back upstairs with haste.

______________________________________________________________

You found yourself wide awake again, tossing and turning in bed as you struggled to find a comfortable sleeping position. Your stomach was churning and your mind was whirring with thoughts, mostly of Travis.

The gentle wind whistled through the trees and although the sound would usually ease you into a restful slumber, tonight it only mocked you and your inability to sleep at all.

Pulling the blanket away from your body, you felt the cool air wash over your skin and you sat up onto the edge of the bed. Your toes rested on the hardwood flooring and you rubbed your eyes roughly with the heels of your hands. Shaking your head, you stood up, heading straight for the bedroom door, your feet having no attempt to stay quiet. You quickly grasped the handle and pulled it down, opening the door and making your way down the corridor.

Your eyes strained to see in the dark and you held your hands out in front to guide you. When you reached the right door, you took a breath, your fist raising higher, a gentle knock alerting the person inside.

"Yeah?" Travis' muffled voice rang out through the door.

You quickly entered the room, pressing your back against the wood once you were inside. Your eyes fell onto Travis, relaxing in bed and scrolling through his phone. The sheets covered his body from the waist down, the fabric lightly draped across his legs. His bare chest made your knees slightly weak, his bulging arm muscles only making you worse.

He stared to you, dropping his phone to his side, "Y/N, is everything okay?"

You held onto the door behind you, "It is now." You breathed.

Travis raised an eyebrow, "I don't understand?"

"No, neither do I." You smiled and shook your head, "But as I was laid in bed just now, struggling to sleep...I realised that I just wanted to see you."

Travis' face lit up as he listened to your words.

"I always want to see you. I used to make sure I walked past the football field on my way to classes to double my chances of seeing you that day. After graduation, I made any excuse to go to back to Ohio just in case you were around. And I don't know why I'm telling you this-"

"I'm glad you are." Travis interrupted.

You pushed yourself from the door, taking a space on his bed, "No, but this is the thing. I have no idea what I want from this, I don't know. It would be so complicated-"

Travis shuffled closer to you, "It doesn't have to be."

"No, it would be. Because I am. I am complicated. My life...I've had some pretty fucked up things happen and I really don't want to drag you into it all."

Travis eye's flickered between yours, "I don't care, if it meant having you, bring it on." He reached out and held your hand in his.

You looked down at the bed and sighed, "I'm being serious, Travis. It's the reason I've moved around so much."

You paused as Travis stared intently, waiting patiently for you to open up to him.

"I...was with a guy. For a long time but slowly...slowly things didn't seem right anymore. He...he-"

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, or if you can't right now." Travis' soft voice soothed you, his gentle touch on your hand easing your growing worries.

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, taking a long breath. You wanted him to know, you wanted him to understand but your head was telling you that it was all too much, too soon.

You shook your head and looked back into Travis' caring gaze, "It's late, I should go back."

You looked into his eyes, your heartbeat rising into your throat as he licked his lips. You leaned forward as he did the same, pushing the sheets away from his legs. His scent surrounded you and your skin tingled with how close you were to him, his hand slowly moving up your arm.

"Y/N, you wanna stay here?"

You nodded, your breathing becoming heavier and heavier. Travis' eyes widened and both of his hands moved to your waist, pulling your body slightly closer to him. The room seemed to fade away and all you could hear was your own heartbeat as Travis slowly leaned in and laid his lips onto yours. You stayed still, allowing his mouth to move across yours with ease. Your eyes fluttered closed and you slowly tilted your head to the side, parting your lips and allowing the kiss to deepen. You felt his hand move up to the side of your face, his fingers tangled in your hair. The kiss was passionate, but gentle and soft. You inhaled, allowing your own hands to explore him. His buzzed hair, sharp facial hair, solid shoulders and warm chest sent your senses into overdrive, your hands dragging themselves down his body. Travis shifted on the bed, allowing you to turn yourself more so that you were facing him. His thumb ran across your cheek, your skin tingling with goose bumps. When he pulled away from the kiss, his eyes opened and settled onto you, his gaze darting around your facial features with adoration.

His bottom lip twitched for a second before he took a breath, "We can just...lie here if you want? If you want to get some sleep?"

You smiled and shook your head, "No, I don't want to sleep anymore."

Travis' eyebrows lowered, just enough for you to notice, a slight expression of confusion before his hand returned to your face. His lips connected with yours once again, but with some more pressure and passion than before. With one hand keeping your balance on the bed, you rotated yourself and laid down, pulling Travis on top of you. His frame loomed over you, slightly to one side and his right hand roamed your body. His fingers dug into your hips, grabbing at you roughly and desperately. You writhed underneath him as he shifted himself fully on top of you, using his knees to pull apart your legs. His mouth moved to your neck and you gasped for air once you were free from the kiss. Travis hummed against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh my God." Travis mumbled between kisses.

Your fingers ran up his bare back, "Are you sure about this?"

You waited for a response but Travis was too busy laying soft kisses down to your collarbone.

You tapped him lightly on his shoulder, "Like, are you sure this is what you want?"

His head lifted quickly, his mouth formed into a wide grin, "Are you kidding? This is all I've wanted!"

You smiled back at him, pulling his face to yours and as his arms slid underneath you, you wrapped your legs around his waist. His tongue slipped into your mouth, running it along your own and causing you to groan with pleasure. Something inside of you began to tighten, a burning sensation growing up into your chest. Your pussy throbbed and you could feel a wetness beginning to form on your pyjama shorts, Travis' hard mound pressing into you. One of Travis' hands roamed down to your ass, squeezing the firm but voluptuous flesh before sliding down to your thighs, his touch leaving goose bumps in their wake. His fingers danced at the hem of your shorts, gently lifting it and stroking your soft skin underneath.

You flinched as his touch grew closer to your slit and Travis quickly pulled away from you, studying your expression carefully.

"Are you okay?" He said, his voice thick with concern.

You nodded with closed eyes and cleared your throat, "Yeah, yeah...I'm fine. Sorry."

Travis lifted his chest away from you, his eyebrows furrowed, "Are you sure? We can stop if you want?"

You could feel your eyes moistening, "I...I'm sorry."

He stroked your hair gently before helping you to sit up, "No, no. You have nothing to be sorry for."

You sniffed and shook your head, "I want this, I really do."

"Hey, stop." He whispered, "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

Your heart swelled as he spoke, his sweet and caring nature making you smile.

He tenderly pushed some hair behind your ear, his hand lingering at your cheek for a few seconds, "How about we just get some sleep? Apparently, I'm a pretty good big spoon?" He winked, followed by his classic charming smile.

The corners of your mouth curved upwards as you giggled, "Yeah, okay. Thank you, Travis."

He shifted himself over to your side as you laid back onto the bed, "It's okay. I got you."

His arm rested itself across your stomach before pulling you closer to him, the curves of your body fitting perfectly alongside him. You felt his lips lay a gentle kiss on your temple, his soft and steady breathing relaxing you completely as your chest began to rise and fall with his.

______________________________________________________________

I finally got it out! I'm sorry to everyone who has been waiting but I've had a very busy couple of weeks! This story has a couple of more episodes left in it and if I'm completely honest, I'm going to miss it! If you want to be added to my Taglist, please let me know and I will of course add you to it so you never miss another chapter!

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[laecrowa]

Ripples Of Revelation

guys i made this in the span of like the first episode of the show cause i needed to get some info this is actually trash

english is not my first language please be nice 😔🙏

Living in Kyoto is a different experience, especially when you’re a women, and a women who doesn’t come from a wealth like a princess who is lucky enough to marry a man she wants or to be married off to a wealthier family. Or if your a lady who isn’t wealthy and isn’t married you find yourself working in a brothel, luckily i haven’t come across that point since my father is my chaperone for the city and I’m still young.

Kyoto is very big and is home to the Shindo Dojo, the place where men who want to become samurai can train. So they can brag to the villagers and act like they are better than most even tho most cannot hold the blade correctly. They sit atop their horses and look down on the others acting as if they are worth.

Most times i’m grateful they ignore me and sometimes I have the utmost displeasure of hearing them say such nonsense to me in hopes of courting me. My father will not let them as he believes that I should find a strong and comfortable living man that will help me settle down comfortable and in hopes that I won’t end in a brothel. As the Shindo Dojo is here theres also the Shindo house the “whore house” as my mother used to call it when i was younger.

As me and my father walk by the Shindo house i see a man being grabbed on by the ladies. He looked as if he wasn’t expecting to be met in that manor and they looked as if they have been insulted then they look impressed. I turn my attention to the small puppet show that sits next to the brothel, which was interrupted by a big man bursted thru and breaking the stand. he looks to the man with the large hat and then back at me causing the man in the large hat to look at me. Tilting my head slightly before moving on next to my father who also saw the scene he smiles before looking forward.

“what? what’s with that look?” I look at my father as he laughs slightly. “that boy, he seems different hmm i saw that look in your eye. You should try and find him later huh?” i stop in my steps and soon after he does as well and smiles while turning to look at me. “I have no clue or reason on why you think that. We had only locked eyes for a second there is no reason for me to think that in any way he is different and I will not be finding him later you are crazy.” he looks at me trying to find any flaw in my face or voice as i speak on the subject. He laughs and tells me to move on and to continue walking to sell.

After a while of selling my father pushes me along to find something near the Shindo Dojo, as i walk along closer to the gates i see the man in the large hat. I move myself along in hopes for him to not see me and follow him. Slowly creepy from behind him a good 20 paces behind and out of his sight he leave Kyoto. I think to myself whether i should follow or go back but i think back to what my father says, and what he didn’t say. He usually says something along the lines of how “that boy is trouble” or “dont get yourself wrapped up with men like those” but no he says that he’s different and i cannot help but agree sometimes is definitely different about this young man.

Was is the glasses? maybe the large hat or maybe it was the fact that you feel more attracted to him then any other man had made you feel to them in the whole village that you’ve been in for so long. Had that man with the large hat make you feel like every other man is stupid, surly not he hadn’t even say a word to you let alone look at you for more then 5 seconds. It’s completely silly but i find myself still walking out of the gates hoping that he won’t turn around and find me following him like a stalker. Would he kill me for even looking at him for to long?

As I continued to follow him I find myself going deeper into the woods I loose him for a moment. I curse at myself for looking away for a moment and not knowing what turn he had made, it’s dark and already hard to see with the trees in the way. I look around frantically and I hear water from a small lake.

I slowly walk to the river, he would have probably went by the river to clean himself off. I was correct i see his head sticking out the water and *snap* fuck, i walk out all the way and put my hands up in the air to show i mean no problems. He steps out the water completely naked with his sword out and my eyes wander around his body and…

Am i attracted to women?

[richarlotte]

Heauxing Tips?

Here’s what I believe.

In regards to PPM and the discussion I see around here, let me give you my opinion. If you’re accepting less than $600 in MCOL areas, you’re being taken advantage of (robbed BLIND) and setting your standards way too low. You’re also making it difficult for others, whether that be inadvertently or not. You, as the provider, set the number and stick to it. If a man is worth your while, he will give you what you want, pay it to you gladly, and keep his complaints to himself.

 

I honestly believe that if you aren’t actively looking for opportunities, you won’t find them. I love looking at lists of events and places to go, but I also know that women aren’t actually meeting single, very wealthy, or established men at these events. You should obviously go to things and be seen outside, but you can’t go to event after event looking for a man. It becomes weird, people will notice, and there’s nothing wrong with relaxing and enjoying your life without looking for a mark. You won’t meet him at a country club, don’t try.

 

If you are a black woman, do not listen to advice telling you to freestyle in groups. I’m going to just outright say it so what I say won’t be mistaken for anything else. The only white men that will approach a large group of black women are the police. I also don’t believe in the concept of freestyling with a group. I’ve done it with a single friend before, and we had dinner and drinks fully paid for, but it’s honestly not worth coordinating, going out, and expecting to hit it big. Groups draw eyes, and you don’t want eyes or law enforcement on your back.

 

You have to have a genuinely high opinion of yourself to survive sugaring, escorting, heauxing, or whatever you want to call it. If you look at the suicide rates in any industry where sex sells, you’ll immediately see that the suicide rate is higher than normal. You literally have to be level headed and know when to step away to survive. On the same note, if you have no concept of personal safety, then you need to not do this. The police will not take you seriously, and they don’t take most women seriously in general. Men are aggressive, and the tables can turn very quickly in this lifestyle.

 

You have to fit the role and look the part. Are there men out there in the world who’d hire plus-size providers? Sure. Are they few and far between? Absolutely. There is a look that is desired in every city, but most men are going to want top-of-the-line, clean, well spoken, and presentable providers who know how to maintain a certain level of discretion and do well in professional settings. There is a standard of beauty, and to be one of the women who’s always doing well, you have to fit that standard and curate an exclusive client list (yes, that means turning plenty of people down and not taking on more than you can handle).

 

If you don’t keep a low profile, you will get screwed over. I have friends who’ve gotten arrested in major cities; I know girls who are denied entry to the USA and other countries; I know women who’ve had their homes raided; and the forums for serious sex workers are always alight with some sort of drama. If you don’t keep your head down, keep your client list small, and avoid any unnecessary conflict, then I guarantee you’ll get caught up in something that will waste your time. You also have to hold yourself accountable for your own fuckups because, I swear, there are too many instances where I’ve seen someone do something seriously illegal that they knew not to do.

 

If you were serious, you’d go out of your way to access the review sites and see what the serious providers are doing. I’m sorry, but I get so tired of reading accounts from “sugar babies” on Tumblr who don’t know what the forums are, don’t know why high class clients ask about reviews, don’t understand Tryst, and don’t understand the importance of having a photographer and a website. Basic level research and a tiny bit of time spent on Reddit would get you up to speed; learning the etiquette is easy enough, and people would take you seriously instead of making assumptions. It’s nearly impossible to build an exclusive base without this knowledge, and I’d recommend having it so that you’re aware of things.

And remember, if she was dating a senator, she wouldn’t be on Tumblr.

[onetoomanyyy]

why ocho is one of the most interesting coroika characters (analysis/speculation)

Ok, so I think we all know that coroika isn’t exactly known for its incredible character writing. But every now and then when digging for iron and coal, you find some diamond ore (epic minecraft reference). I do really think Ocho/Octophones is the most compelling character in coroika, story-wise. Vintage is definitely second, but there’s something about this guy. So allow me a few minutes of your time to think way too hard about all this. I've never done an essay-style post like this before so it may be a little disorganized/confusing, sorry in advance.

When we first meet Ocho, he’s your typical coroika antagonist. Rude, cocky, and entirely sure that he’s right. He presents the actually interesting concept that battles are boring and that there should be a bigger punishment for losing in order to weed out the weak people. He thinks that the best 8 of splatsville should be based on power, not popularity. (Which is fair!)

He stays pretty static up until his vs. chapters, aside from a small moment of expressing remorse after black-labelling 8-Bit (likely because he knows how much pride she has in her position).

Ocho wants power, simple as that, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get it, including hiring teammates instead of building an actual team. The reason he wants power so bad is because the real thing he wants is to be strong - or to believe that he’s strong. This is, of course, because according to the  Hierarchy, the important people in Splatsville are the strong ones. So in order to be worth anything to the Hierarchy - to Splatsville - he needs to be strong. 

So what happens when he gets defeated? What happens when the core foundation: being able to win battles, of all that pride in himself and his position gets toppled? Probably more than what actually did happen. 

Wineglasses and how he may have severely fucked up Ocho's mindset

Wireglasses is the leader and the founder of the Hierarchy, and presumably the one who first presented their philosophy. (That the strong stay strong and the weak stay weak, and that thus the weak are worthless.) Of course, keep in mind that "strong" and "weak" are largely subjective terms here.

^ Goggles hits the nail on the head here. This idea likely comes from a place of insecurity, the idea that Wireglasses may lose his position as the strongest player in Splatsville. Duh, he doesn’t want that, so he spreads the idea that people shouldn’t even try. But Wireglasses is willing to hear Team Blue out, if even just to prove them wrong. After he’s defeated, he does as he promised. He dissolves the Hierarchy, because Team Blue proved their worth to him. They seemed like a weak team, but they did manage to take them all down. So, Team Blue must be strong. (I believe that Ocho takes the loss not as Team Blue are strong, but that the Hierarchy are weak.)

So all things considered, Wireglasses is actually quite reasonable. He’s got a big ego, but he’s able to recognize when he’s wrong, if he’s been proven so.

Ocho joined the Hierarchy after being defeated by Wireglasses, who despite the win, admired his skill and asked him to join (where he later gained the position of the second strongest member.) Essentially, Wireglasses gave him the opportunity to have a sense of actual worth in Splatsville, not just superficial popularity, and he clung onto that idea for dear life and went on preaching about the Hierarchy. He even echoes Wireglasses’ rule of “The weak will be silenced.” As their leader, it isn't too farfetched to at least partially blame Wire for why Ocho and the others act the way they do. This isn't meant to be a Wireglasses analysis, though, so whether or not this was intentional or malicious manipulation is up to you.

The defeat

So when Ocho gets defeated, it kinda screws him over. He’s so sure of this idea Wireglasses presented to him, that taking down the weak to stay on top by any means necessary is the true meaning of strength, that he doesn’t even turn around immediately and become a friend to Team Blue like many other coroika antagonists do. He instead relies on the last remaining sign that this philosophy isnt flawed (and just as senseless as a system based on popularity), Wireglasses. This is shown with his immediate shift in focus to how Wireglasses will keep the black label going, even if he’s defeated. Okay, maybe he got taken down, but surely Wireglasses, the strongest guy he knows won’t, right? 

But Wireglasses doesn’t just lose, he loses and ends up agreeing with Team Blue, then dissolving the hierarchy. And we don’t see much of Ocho after this happens, but he keeps the same straight face he had all throughout Wireglasses’ battle and up until the Salmon Run chapter (likely some time later) didn't say a word since his defeat. This combined with how much reliance he had on his position, shown by his insistence of how strength worked to the point of losing his usual cool during his battle, gives me a good idea that he wasn’t exactly stoked about this. Plus, he’s still a jerk during the salmon run chapter, which is a rare occurrence for coroika antagonists. But he seems to be getting a little better, so maybe he’s learning his lesson after Wireglasses sided with Team Blue.

Conclusion

Ocho is a guy who wants a sense of importance past just popularity, which is a respectable motivation. But after Wireglasses gives him a sample of that, the proposal of the Hierarchy, he gets way too caught up in it to the point where he needs more than three panels to turn around. And that, my friends, is why I believe Ocho is the most interesting coroika character. (with a whole lotta angst potential...looking at you, fanfic writers!)

 Thank you and good night :>

[fatliberation]

"I didn't give out any medical advice" lmao you were heavily implying that person's doctor was wrong and that they shouldn't listen to their doctor's advice. that's irresponsible. you're going to get somebody killed with this bs

If their doctor's advice is to lose weight through dieting, it is wrong and I can say that in full confidence because it. (x) doesn't. (x) work. (x) Here! (x) Take (x) these! I am (x) chucking (x) peer reviewed sources (x) at you. (x)

Anti-fat bias is at work here. And so is a weight-loss market worth $90 BILLION as of 2024.

In 2013, UCLA researchers Traci Mann, Janet Tomiyama, and Britt Ahlstrom conducted the most comprehensive and rigorous analysis of diet studies, analyzing 31 long-term studies.

“What happens to people on diets in the long run?” Mann asked. “Would they have been better off to not go on a diet at all? We decided to dig up and analyze every study that followed people on diets for two to five years. We concluded most of them would have been better off not going on the diet at all. Their weight would be pretty much the same, and their bodies would not suffer the wear and tear from losing weight and gaining it all back.” (x)

Certain factors biased the diet studies to make them appear more effective than they really were. For one, many participants self-reported their weight by phone or mail rather than having their weight measured on a scale by an impartial source. Also, the studies have very low follow-up rates — eight of the studies had follow-up rates lower than 50 percent, and those who responded may not have been representative of the entire group, since people who gain back large amounts of weight are generally unlikely to show up for follow-up tests, Mann said.

Evidence suggests that repeatedly losing and gaining weight is linked to cardiovascular disease, stroke, diabetes and altered immune function. Mann and Tomiyama recommend that more research be conducted on the health effects of losing and gaining weight, noting that scientists do not fully understand how such weight cycling leads to adverse health effects.

“We asked what evidence is there that dieting works in the long term, and found that the evidence shows the opposite” Tomiyama said.

Here are some quotes I pulled directly from the study.

It is implicit in this definition that losing weight will lead to improved health, and yet, health outcomes are not routinely included in studies of diets.

Overall, there were only slight improvements in most health outcomes studied. Changes in diastolic and systolic blood pressure, fasting blood glucose, cholesterol, and triglyceride levels were small, and none of these correlated with weight change. There were also very small effects of these diets on lipid-lowering medication use and coronary morbidity and mortality. There were a few larger positive effects for hypertension and diabetes medication use, as well as diabetes and stroke incidence. In correlational analyses, however, we uncovered no clear relationship between weight loss and health outcomes related to hypertension, diabetes, or cholesterol, calling into question whether weight change per se had any causal role in the few effects of the diets. Increased exercise, healthier eating, engagement with the health care system, and social support may have played a role instead. Our findings are in line with a recent meta-analysis (Flegal, Kit, Orpana, & Graubard, 2013) that found that overweight and class I obesity were not associated with higher all-cause mortality. Moreover, Ortega and colleagues (2013) have documented metabolically healthy but obese individuals, and an emerging literature on the “obesity paradox”, whereby obesity appears to confer health benefits in certain diseases (Amundson, Djurkovic, & Matwiyoff, 2010), suggests that a disconnect between weight loss and health outcomes should not be surprising.

We believe the ultimate goal of diets is to improve people’s long-term health, rather than to reduce their weight. Our review of randomized controlled trials of the effects of dieting on health finds very little evidence of success in achieving this goal. If diets do not lead to longterm weight loss or long-term health benefits, it is difficult to justify encouraging individuals to endure them.

See for yourself.

[warsofasoiaf]

On ceasefire negotiations related to how Israel-Hamas is operating. Israel demanded to know how many hostages remain and who is alive, and apparently Hamas is refusing to provide the names and count. Is this a normal thing to argue over and is it normal for a country to sacrifice military campaigns for a comparatively small number of civilians? For example would the United States act similarly if it were in Israel's situation? Would another Western country?

This is actually something I can talk a great deal about, because it deals with negotiations, game theory, and applying economic concepts to non-economic subjects. This will be pretty clinically heartless, so I'm going to throw a cut down.

A hostage negotiation is, at its core, taking prisoners to extract some form of compensation for their safe return. The hostage taker wants something, and trades in human lives to get it. This can be money (ransom), an exchange of prisoners (a prisoner swap), or to exert pressure to enact political change (terrorism). The negotiation is largely an argument over price - how much is it worth to return the hostages safely. We'll get back to this in a bit.

It is typically standard practice to declare the name, number, and status of hostages for a few reasons. One is verification, to prove that the organization has the hostages in question. The second is to establish good faith that the negotiations can be conducted, that the hostages won't be immediately executed. If there is no good faith, the other side does not negotiate and instead attempts rescue (or in Russia's case, just mows them down indiscriminately). That's the same reason why hostage takers can release hostages as a show of good faith that further negotiations are fruitful.

At the end of the day, a hostage negotiation is an argument over the price of the hostages' lives. In any negotiation, information asymmetry is the name of the day, and the more advantages you have in that category, the better price you can command. Hamas is incentivized not to declare the name and status of the hostages for both benign (relatively) and malign reasons. By refusing to name the number and status of the hostages, it forces uncertainty into the Israeli negotiations. If Israel doesn't know how many hostages it's "buying" then it's liable to offer more than Hamas is willing to settle for, which makes Hamas come out ahead in the exchange. If Israel offers too low an amount, Hamas can simply demand more - there are no downsides unless Israel refuses to negotiate.

Of course, the malign reason is that the hostages are not in the best shape - they're either the victims of torture or are already dead. In this case, Hamas is disguising the status to up the price of the negotiations. Typically, negotiators don't pay for dead hostages, so in the event you have dead hostages, it's advantageous to disguise that status to extract something for them (typically money because once you have it in your hand, it's tough to go backsies). It's not good business in the long run, because no one does business with you again, but Hamas likely doesn't believe it's going to be in a position to negotiate again so that threat is less prescient. Similarly, Hamas likely believes it's insulated from the inevitable blowback that it would bring. Support for Hamas, either from their Iranian backers or Western groups, doesn't typically go down even in response to perfidy, torture, or other crimes. So in that sense, being a habitual bad-faith actor doesn't hold the same animus - they're still going to enjoy support from their backers regardless of what they do, which are prime conditions for reinforcing bad behavior. It's similar in Israel, where the Netanyahu government largely doesn't care about foreign political pressure - their reaction typically to international condemnation is to close ranks and accuse their critics of wanting them dead, or at least not caring whether they live or die.

Typically, governments don't like to negotiate ransoms for hostage taking for the all-too-logical reason, it incentivizes other hostage taking attempts. Private citizens often pay ransoms because for them, it is a singular iteration of game theory - there typically isn't a second instance of hostage taking unless the individual is quite unlucky. Governments however, frequently interact with terror groups and are thus less likely to negotiate directly save in the event that the hostage in question is extremely important.

In that sense, hostage taking is usually an attempt to force private citizens to enact domestic pressure on a government, not to pressure the government directly. In the sense of the United States or any other Western countries, this is more effective than in autocracies such as Russia or China, which both are relatively resistant to domestic criticism and are more willing to accept civilian casualties. So to answer your question of what would the United States or another Western nation do, the answer is "it depends on the willingness of the public to place domestic pressure on the government to free the hostages versus their desire to punish the perpetrators."

Thanks for the question, Cle-Guy.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

howdy!!! I was wondering if I could get like Dallas x male reader, maybe them going to see a movie or something, I dont really know :))

A/N: Howdy there!! I really loved writing this one, male!reader always get me excited to write, I'm so sorry it took so long to get out there!

Out To The Movies

The Drive-In was usually crowded on Friday nights, but this week, it seemed like there were more people than usual. Line after line of parked cars filled the lots, surrounded by flocks of teenagers drifting from one window to another as they tried to pick up the latest gossip of who was going with who, who was fighting who, and who was in trouble so far. Dally and Y/N had done their floating, managed to bump into Two-Bit somewhere in the crowd, and snagged two seats side-by-side in the back. There were still a few minutes until the movie began and Y/N eyed the popcorn stand, weighing whether or not a warm bag of buttered popcorn would be worth standing in line and probably missing the first moments of the film.

A hand on his thigh cut off his train of thought and he glanced back at Dally who was lazily tracing the seams of his jeans with a small smirk.

“Whaddaya think you’re doing?” Y/N murmured, looking pointedly at Dal’s hand and the rest of the people sitting around them.

Dally blinked innocently. “Am I doin’ something?”

Y/N pushed the boy’s hand away. “If you wanted to fool around, maybe you should’ve asked Buck to take the car. That way we could’ve parked in the back row or something.”

Huffing, Dally crossed his arms over his chest and slouched back in his seat, fixing his pale blue eyes on the large screen ahead of them. He mumbled something Y/N couldn’t catch and knocked his foot against the chair in front of him, earning a dirty look from the man sitting there. Dally sneered back and the man wisely turned back around.

“If you’re going to pout,” Y/N warned, “I’m gonna go sit somewhere else.”

“M’not pouting,” Dally pouted. He shot Y/N a side-eyed glare and huffed again.

They sat quietly for a moment, the tinny music floating from the speakers above their heads filling the air as the usual advertisements played on the big screen. Y/N sighed and knocked Dally’s knee with his own.

“What.”

“Do you want popcorn?”

“No.”

“Figured I’d ask,” Y/N murmured as he stood up. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned to go but Dally snagged the hem of his shirt.

“Do you,” he started, sounding a lot less sure of himself and a lot softer than he had a second ago. It wasn’t an apology, but Y/N could tell he was trying to make up for snapping. “Do you need money or anything?”

Y/N gave him a smile and shook his head. “I’ve got it, Dal.”

Dally gave him a look, like he didn’t quite believe it, but let go of Y/N’s shirt anyway and leaned back into his seat. “Hurry up, alright? It’s gonna start soon.”

Y/N hurried. The line moved a lot faster than he’d been expecting and he managed to get back to his seat just as the opening credits faded out. Arms laden with a bag of popcorn and two sodas, he plopped down in his seat and gave Dallas a look, brandishing one of the sodas.

“I told you I didn’t want anything,” he grumbled, but he took the drink and sipped at the straw as the characters began to arrive on screen.

Y/N scooped up a handful of popcorn and popped a few pieces in his mouth when he felt Dallas’ hand land back on his leg. This time, it was a little more subtle, Dally’s hand tucked out of sight between them, knuckles rubbing back and forth over the side of Y/N’s thigh.

“Think you’re smooth?” Y/N whispered, not looking Dal’s direction as he ate another handful of popcorn.

“Think I’d be doin’ a lot more if we had a car,” Dal answered easily. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

Dally only smirked into his coke and continued to trace shapes into Y/N’s jeans. Y/N slowly slid his foot over to rest against Dal’s, the sides of their soles touching as they both focused in on the movie, content to sip at their drinks and munch on the bag of popcorn as the film played out on the large screen.

[soullessjack]

mm ok I have something to talk about finally ! so something I’ve noticed in a lot of discussions/meta around the TFW2.0 family dynamic + cycles of abuse is that it almost always opts to frame jack as a perpetual victim of [sam and] dean’s mistreatment who can’t fight back, and while I don’t mean to say it’s completely without merit, I feel that it does a slight disservice to Jack’s character by always reducing him into a helpless child (even if he is seen as older by the poster) who cannot/should not bear any responsibility in any of his relationships with his fathers.

to start, the cycle of abuse coincides with an imbalanced power dynamic; someone with more or higher power and authority over you (ie parent, boss or teacher) uses that authority to exploit, control, and/or freely mistreat you. i will note that it doesn’t necessarily have to be framed this way to be abuse, like a situation where blackmail grants someone authority over their target; there are also some dynamics that are inherently imbalanced without being inherently abusive (see above examples). the abuse relies on that dynamic being manipulated, not the dynamic itself.

in the majority of posts I’ve seen, the power imbalance between TFW2.0 almost always puts jack at the bottom of the totem pole, in a constant state of victimhood because he’s constantly at the mercy of [sam and] dean [and cas].*boxed these in bc people rarely pick on sam or cas for their transgressions and whether or not they’ll kill him. clarifying again that i understand where this comes from, but I also think it’s a fairly dated perspective on their dynamic that should really be re-examined—especially with Jack’s autonomy more in mind—and i believe @shallowseeker has a post about the exact timeframe of Cas’ death and Dean’s widower arc/mistreatment of Jack that i recommend for it.

but onto my main point, I feel that this representation of their dynamic is inaccurate, and doesn’t really take jack into account beyond the Helpless Child Victim narrative. for the sake of staying on topic let me just summarize a few things:

A) Jack is the most powerful being in the universe and is functionally immortal/unkillable. He is a greater threat to TFW than they are to him, and so he is the one with power in the dynamic, not the other way around. It all hinges on his personal choice to not harm them (because he loves them of course).

B) Jack is and always has been painfully aware of his power, the threat he poses, the dynamic it creates and the underlying tension it constantly causes with his relationships. The majority of his actions and motivations are rooted in his own self-fear, and the determination to prove he’s good/safe.

Another small point I’ll shove in is that Dean canonically never forgave himself for his mistreatment of Jack, and spent almost the entirety of their relationship trying to make up for it (especially in 14x06, 07 & 08). Likewise, Dean’s promise to kill Jack in 13x02 and that scene from Moriah are both often misunderstood as more Textbook Dean Abuse with **Jack’s perspectives (ie: “dean said he’d kill me, and maybe he should,” his admission of guilt and willingness to let Dean shoot him) (also, his choice to forgive dean at some point offscreen) being largely overlooked.

**obviously it’s not healthy or good for Jack to basically consent to being mistreated or killed because he thinks he somehow deserves it, nor does it make Dean’s actions excusable or justified in any way, but i still feel that it’s worth pointing out as examples of Jack’s autonomy and awareness in the aforementioned power dynamic.

Jack’s responsibility is also pretty unaccounted for in these dynamics (especially when it comes to Mary’s death) which I think stems equally from the fact that his soullessness—and by extension, his soulless actions—were caused by Sam and Dean’s actions and the general perspective of him as a child [who doesn’t deserve the burden he carries, and should be carefree], so nothing is directly his fault and nobody can get mad at him either or that’s also seen as unfair mistreatment). I also personally just think it’s odd because Jack in canon is very adamant about being able to take and hold responsibility (as it relates to his autonomy and wanting to be seen as a separate person from his parents). and, going back to Mary, Jack not only becomes psychotic with guilt over killing her, but after his soul is restored in S15, he has a complete breakdown from the sheer horror of what he’s done, and because, in his own words, it’s all his fault.

I won’t go into the worm can of people blaming Dean for how he handled reliving to his root trauma, but suffice it to say: he had every right to be angry, he was well within reason to act unreasonably, and stop trying to fix his conflict with jack by parentifying him with an innocent baby when he already has parentification trauma and that baby is merely an excuse to absolve Jack of any responsibility he had in the conflict.

I will always and forever love the meta side of the fandom, and I honestly owe my blog’s existence to it, but I still think we have a long way to go in terms of how jack is represented/portrayed in these discussions, and likewise, how that portrayal frames/reflects on sam, dean and cas ^_^

[marveltaughtmetoread]

The thing I have always struggled with is yeah in the Clone Wars the Jedi are shown to have a mature and healthy response to their emotions, they grieve but they don't let it consume, they keep a level head even in times of crisis

There is a whole separate point to be made about the disconnect between how the Jedi are shown to handle their emotions and what they teach Anakin (and by extension the audience) about how to handle emotions, but that's not relevant here

It's not the way they handle their emotions that is the issue, it's their actions and responses to situations that has always been my problem

Their actions are uncaring, especially taking into account their connection to the force

These are people who can sense in the force whether or not others are alive and to some extent what's happening around them yet in both Weapons Factory from Season 2 and Rising Malevolence from Season 1, the Jedi are shown to give up on people in a way that clearly assumes they are dead

They give up on Plo and his troopers because they don't believe there is any hope of saving them, and it is not worth risking the lives of others for people who are already dead

Luminara gives up on her Padawan Bariss and Anakin's Padawan Ashoka when they are buried in rebel and encourages Anakin to move on

The problem with both these incidents is the Jedi should know they're alive

Proximity is to a certain extent a factor, it's only the powerful Jedi we see reacting to and being able to sense what is happening with others across large distances

But Luminara is standing pretty damn close to where her living Padawan is, yet she collapsed to the floor as if she has felt Bariss die, this paints her attachment as a bald faced lie, she should know Bariss is still alive but in the face of adversity (which is mild considering the Jedi's ability to lift things with their minds) she gives up, dooming both Bariss and Ashoka to die, in this situation Anakin's response is the correct one, people have tried to save random strangers from building collapses with significantly less certainty that they will find people alive than Luminara has, but she has given up before even attempting to rescue them, her actions become callous and a horrific response to the situation, not because of how she handles her emotions but what she chooses to do in the face of possibly loosing someone

She appears to be so willing to detach herself from others that she will leave you for dead given the slightest provocation

And Plo's situation is slightly more dire, everyone acts like he is either dead or going to die, because they lost contact with him, once again they should know that he is alive because of the force, but they just assume he is dead and are willing to move on based on that assumption

They aren't willing to risk other people's lives based on a fool's errand, but we know the audience know Plo is still alive and so should they

What's more the have one of their best pilots close by, who they could send on a solo mission to scout or maybe attempt to rescue them, they don't have to send a whole fleet because agree that would be suicide, but a small craft flown by a skillful pilot aided by the force would be a lot safer as Anakin himself proves by going against them

They had options but instead, they assume Plo is dead and once again doom Plo and his clones, who have already (in a move that does not reflect well on the Jedi) assumed no one is going to save them, and they would have been right had Anakin, once again, gone against what the Jedi thought was best to rescue them

The Jedi should know that people are still alive so their choice to give up and move on to grieving - even if that grief is expressed in a healthy way - is abhorrent

I can't emphasise this enough, random strangers have done more to save each other in times of crisis, with less certainty of anyone even being alive to save, than the Jedi do for their allies, those they are responsible for, and the people they control, yet it is the Jedi who people expect me to root for

Them managing their emotions well doesn't mean shit in the face of callous disregard for life