#“we make each other human” this is what its all about

[realcleverscience]

Thanks for the thoughtful reply. I see things a bit differently. allow me to share what I hope to be a thoughtful reply as well:

In terms of plagiarism, I think there are two different issues at play: firstly, training on data one doesn't own, and secondly, reproducing that data and presenting it as original data.

I agree that these are both issues but I don't think they're of equal concern or frequency. In particular, I see "plagiarism" as representing the second issue more than the first. Reproducing other people's works is not ok. That is plagiarism. That has occasionally happened with AI and must be sorted out. No questions there. However, that represents a fraction of a fraction of results. It is a very small and niche issue which is already being addressed.

That said, the first problem - using unowned data - is more nebulous, legally and ethically speaking. On one hand, AI is doing basically the same thing that humans do, which is learn and imitate from others. On the other hand, AI can do this with a level of detail and speed which humans can't. Then there's also issues with the data. For instance, if google uses youtube to train their AI, they probably have some legal right to that as a result of hosting the video. Whenever people use "free" websites, there are usually "costs" which we agree to. (Is that fair? idk. personally, it's ok with me. I think it's a fair trade.) That said, I also expect legal frameworks to develop which make it easier for people to opt-in or opt-out or get compensation as these systems grow. Lastly, it's not clear to me that it's bad for AI to learn from these sources in general - again, much like how humans do. I only really see a problem when it starts to produce actual plagiarism, as discussed above.

Also, in terms of data, I agree with some of your points. I do want to point out, though, that data isn't a finite resource. Just the opposite. We put more and more data on the web each year. in 2010, it got around 2 zetabytes; in 2015 it was 15 zetabytes, in 2020, 64 zetabytes, in 2024, we're expected to have put online nearly 150 zetabytes. And with the growth of things like smartphones, video apps (youtube, tiktok, etc), augmented reality glasses, autonomous robots, self-driving cars, and people engaging with their AIs - these companies are going to get ever growing amounts of rich data, about the world, environments, movement, conversation, and more.

"And that gets to the part of your closer that I wanted to talk about. With "AI" as it is, we are not going to get to a post-labor world like you want. Replacing artists and writers and other creatives will instead create a post-art world... But in such a world, humans aren't just sitting on their asses doing nothing - a lot of people will be creating, not because they have to, but because they want to. Art should be the last job replaced in the process of creating such a world, but the people in charge are trying to make it the first, because their ideal world is nowhere near in line with yours."

To be clear, I'm not interested in replacing artists more or less than any other profession bc I see all professions as valuable. I want to see *all* jobs get automated as much as is possible to get us all to a post-labor society. And yes, it is my hope and expectation that everyone will pursue their hobbies and interests once we no longer have to work. I also know that there's a lot of public focus on AI-Art since a lot of the semi-decent AI products right now are art generators. however, that's only bc art has more wiggle room in its results. But AI is coming for ALL jobs. And I think that's good.

That said, I agree that the rich see AI as a way to get even richer and not necessarily to benefit society. However, I also think that massive unemployment will steer the country (and all countries) toward post-labor systems, such as increasingly shortened work-weeks, UBI, and other changes. I am concerned about how difficult that transition period will be. But that's largely on us and how we vote. (literally one of the reasons I told people not to vote for trump. he dgaf about anyone.)

AI is not a bad technology. It is a major boon for the world. The fight is with capitalism.

'People are panicking about AI tools the same way they did when the calculator was invented, stop worrying' cannot stress enough the calculator did not forcibly pervade every aspect of our lives, has such a low error rate it's a statistical anomaly when it does happen, isn't built on mass plagiarism, and does not obliterate the fucking environment when you use it. Be so fucking serious right now

[h-sleepingirl]

You Are A Wizard, So Pour Over The Tomes

Hypnosis is magic. It is not just “the closest we can get to magic.” Trance practices in all kinds of forms have served as the basis for mysticism across cultures and human history -- thousands of years. It is not new. It is not western. It did not start with Franz Mesmer or James Braid or Milton Erickson or Wiseguy.

Modern hypnosis stems from a rich human history of fascination and spiritual veneration of the mind’s power. We are practitioners of a comparably new discipline where we can literally change the way that other people experience the world. Their innermost selves are as leverage to us -- putty to us, when we know what we are doing. We can transform others freely. We can give pleasure or pain. We can facilitate experiences that seem to defy reality.

People talk a big game about respecting that power. What they usually mean by that is respecting EACH OTHER. That’s crucial, obviously -- not manipulating, not harming, being a good person.

But what about respecting the discipline itself?

It’s tempting to see what we do as disconnected from the “historical” and “outdated” methods of hypnosis. But we are a part of that history. We are likely hilariously wrong about a lot of things related to trance, hypnosis, the human mind -- what will hypnosis and psychology look like in 100 years? And even as we innovate, we are always building on the techniques and ideas that came before us -- in ways we are often not even aware of. We reinvent; we use ideas from the past unknowingly.

We have a right -- and a responsibility -- to OWN our magic. I am not here to gatekeep and say that this magic is not yours. It IS yours; it’s unequivocally yours. But as a whole we could do more to respect it.

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” And hypnosis is not even a technology that we UNDERSTAND. The only real reason we DON’T see ourselves as wizards is because there is a huge motivation to legitimize hypnosis as a scientific discipline -- and non-rationalist perspectives are looked down upon in our culture. I’m not anti-science (maybe a little -- tongue in cheek) but I do think that labeling hypnosis as “just psychology” is dishonest about how much we actually objectively know about it -- and does a disservice to the phenomenon itself.

I’m not saying hypnosis is literally metaphysical. But I am saying we practice something very powerful without knowing its nature. There are secrets we have tried to suss out about this magic through history that we have written down -- past and present. We actually have tomes of knowledge, records of past experiments and modern inventors.

In the last couple of years, I’ve started teaching/facilitating “text studies” -- classes where we sit down with an excerpt from a hypnosis book and parse through it as a collaborative group. I desperately want to show people that there is value in just critically reading the resources available to us. The clinical texts -- especially older ones -- are hard to read, like they are almost in a different language. But it is amazing the insights we have come to by tackling them together.

These old texts are not pure truths -- there is a lot we’ve improved on over time. But we can learn a lot by learning what hypnosis was like historically. The entire discipline of hypnosis is extremely susceptible to change -- it is defined SO MUCH by how we view it culturally. I just recently was amazed at re-reading some Erickson where he talks about making his subjects daydream autonomously -- as a primary mode and result of inducing hypnosis. Contrast that with today, where if someone’s mind wanders for even a moment, they feel like they’ve failed. There’s something really important here -- a technique from 50 years ago that tells us something we’ve lost in modern practice.

And there are countless examples of this, of people losing and reinventing methods over and over. As I’ve watched our kinky niche grow over just the past 13 years, I’ve watched ideas phase in, out, and in again -- there is both growth and regression of our collective body of knowledge. That’s the nature of things, especially when we operate partially disconnected from the resources that are available to us.

We CAN be connected to the rich human history of trying to unravel the secrets about our minds, and about this thing that gives us enormous transformative powers -- powers that we take for granted.

You are a wizard -- so pour over the tomes.

Read a book. Read an article. Set aside some time and view yourself with the respect of being someone who can study and suss out a magical text. Take notes, look up words and concepts you don’t know. Or just absorb what you can on a first pass and go back later. Read a chapter or just master a single page. Romanticize the aesthetic of sitting with the scent of paper, or as the technomancer with words appearing on a screen.

Read. Own this art. And bring that respect of this art to the people you share it with. I promise you can do things with hypnosis that you have never thought possible.

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

This is a little motivational piece (for you and me!) as I gear up to teach "Analyzing Erickson" at Charmed. It's something I feel really passionately about, and I wanted to share it.

Permanently linked/free on Patreon.

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter eight when some clout chaser claims to be the mystery girl in the photo, Hiori shuts down the rumors and teases about the girl who truly has his heart blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains fluff, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader masterlist

The speculations about Hiori’s mystery girl are definitely one of the highlights of his career.

Ironically, he finds it funny how people react to it. He’s already been scolded by both the team manager and the marketing manager, each lecturing him about how careless he’s been. It’s not like there’s anything inherently wrong with dating, especially as an athlete. Though it seems like he was scolded for not giving them a heads up and keeping it a secret. 

His parents, on the other hand, are pretty much predictable. His dad stays quiet about these sorts of things, but his mom? She makes it a huge deal. Despite their issues, she still showers him with love and attention in her own overbearing, only-child-parent way. She’s adamant that he’s been hiding the girl from her because he’s embarrassed or something.

Not to mention, his friends and teammates. His Bastard Munchen teammates—not exactly the epitome of calm, cool and connectedness as how they would look.

The moment he arrived into a field for training, Isagi sprints at him at high speed, like golden retriever finally seeing its best friend. Igaguri and Raichi moan about how unfair it is for Hiori to get a girlfriend before them. The older members, Geisner, Bachs and even Ndiaye praised him as if he scored a goal.

Even Noa himself gives him an approving nod, “at least we know you’re normal-er than the rest of these football heads.”

Again, a wild reaction from everyone.

Sure, he’s not the only eligible bachelor in the field, nay, in his team who have been elusive or secretive about their relationships. But sports gossip writers love to eat up news like this. Like vultures circling around a carcass, the media (even fans) are waiting to pounce on him any moment. 

“Who’s the girl you were caught kissing at the JFA party?”

“Do you finally have a girlfriend?”

“Is your girlfriend a celebrity?”

It’s the same old question every single time. And for Hiori, it gets tiring. He should be answering questions about the game, the team’s performance and plans ahead this season. People are too hung up on who’s his “flavor of the month”, as if he’s Oliver freaking Aiku.

But he knows how to play the game. It’s just like playing a visual novel. His answers already predetermined, all of them would either deflect or shut down the whole topic all together. 

“I have no idea what yer talkin’ about.”

“Are ya sure that’s me? Doesn’t look like me?”

“Looks edited though, don’tcha think?”

Like he promised you, he won’t disclose anything to the media or anyone else. Not that he’s the type to kiss and tell. But he won’t confirm or deny it either. He finds it fun to watch people squirm, teetering on the edge of curiosity and frustration. 

Plus, he values his privacy. That’s how it’s always been, and it’s how it always will be. 

Still, beneath his calm demeanor, Hiori worries he might fumble this. He likes you—really likes you. Enough to avoid making mistakes that might scare you off.

Fine, he likes you a lot. More than he thinks you even realize. 

In the months before you started dating, he found himself looking forward to every conversation with you, whether it was online or during work. He’d take whatever crumbs he could get, so to speak.

That’s why he got so frustrated when you started showing up way less for interviews. He understood it was just part of your job, something entirely out of his control. But when you got reassigned to other teams, it did threaten him. 

You were a natural at what you did—fun, easygoing, and effortlessly charming. No wonder he felt at ease with you from the get go. So it was just a matter of time till others saw you the way he did. 

Athletes like them are human after all. 

When Nagi—and, surprisingly, Reo—tried to squeeze into the picture, that did it for him. He hated how it felt, the simmering jealousy that crept in every time he saw them be all chummy with you. No amount of goals scored against Manshine City could ease the sinking feeling of losing you to one of them. Or, worse, both of them.

Hiori never thought of himself as the jealous type. But now he knows better. He despises the feeling. The tightness in his chest, the restless nights replaying imagined scenarios. Yet, there’s also a quiet satisfaction now. You chose him. 

Not publicly known, not splashed across headlines. But still, you’re his. If he gets jealous, he knows he’s not overreacting.

“I know who she is!” Isagi sing-songs, jogging over to the bench.

Hiori offers him a water bottle, cocking an eyebrow. “Whatcha mean?”

Isagi displays a shit eating grin, practically glowing with mischief. “I know who the girl is. Ness knows, too.”

Ness, approaching from behind, offers a polite smile—a polite smile that makes Hiori’s stomach drop.

“Nah, ya don’t,” Hiori says, chuckling nervously.

“We do,” Isagi insists.

“Ya don’t,” Hiori repeats.

“Well, we do,” Ness interjects smoothly. “Reo told us about how you cockblocked him and Nagi at the party.”

Hiori freezes, sweat beading on his forehead. “What?”

“You guys weren’t exactly subtle when you bailed,” Isagi adds, his shit-eating grin growing wider. “Miss Journalist seems to be really into y—what the hell, Hiori!”

A towel smacks Isagi square in the face. “Shaddap!” Hiori hisses, putting a finger to his lips.

Ness snickers, and Isagi pulls the towel off, laughing. “Alright, fine, ya got me. But can ya two keep it down? We just started dating,” Hiori mutters, massaging his temples.

“Relax, I’m not gonna spill,” Ness says with a wave of his hand but he gives a small smile, amused by Hiori’s reactions.

“Gotcha,” Isagi says, mock-saluting. “But, man, I didn’t know you had that kind of ‘HioRizz.’”

Hiori groans, glaring at Isagi. “I swear to God, if ya don’t shut up, I’ll leave ya out of every pass next game.”

Ness bursts out laughing. “Don’t worry, Isagi. I’ll pass to you.”

“Hiori has more rizz than Yukimiya! I should take notes!” Isagi jokes, only for Hiori to smack him on the arm before chasing him down the field.

Despite the chaos, Hiori can’t help but feel a warm sense of pride. These guys might be loud and annoying, but they’re also the ones he trusts most. And in a way, it feels nice to share this secret with them—a small piece of his happiness.

Because you’re his. And he’s yours. And to Hiori, that means everything.

“So… you’re telling me this is you?” Your roommate, Miko, thrusts her phone in your direction, her finger pointing dramatically at the paparazzi photo of you and Hiori plastered on her screen.

It’s only been a week since the photo started making rounds online, but you’ve been caught staring at it one too many times by Miko, your eagle-eyed, ever-curious roommate. Today, you finally caved. The whirlwind of emotions bubbling inside was too much to handle alone.

And now, you just had to tell her because things are driving you crazy at this point. 

“Yup.” The two of you are sitting side by side on the couch. She grills you with her own paparazzi-like questions while you sink in further the couch, the unfinished article on the laptop you’ve been drafting long forgotten at this point.

Miko squints at you, her head tilting as she studies the image like a detective analyzing evidence. Her brow furrows, and then, as if struck by a sudden epiphany, she gasps.

She springs up from her seat, pointing at your face accusingly. “Aha! Is this the guy you—" she gestures vaguely but suggestively with her hand, “—you know, slept with after that work party?”

“Yes, it’s him. No, we didn’t ‘sleep’ together.” You can’t help but laugh as you swat her finger away. “We shared the same bed, yes. But nothing happened.”

Miko raises an incredulous eyebrow. “Sure, sure. A pretty girl like you, and he didn’t try anything? In this economy?” She blows a dramatic raspberry and plops back against the couch, clearly unimpressed.

Your cheeks burn, recounting the night you spent with Hiori. It was intimate—sweet and wholesome in a way that still made your chest flutter when you thought about it. The kisses, his touches. It only makes you yearn for it more.

The morning after was even better. You spending a whole Saturday with him was like magic. 

She idly giggles to herself as she scrolls more on her phone, probably to stalk Hiori. The girl is chronically online so her stalking (research skills as she calls it) skills are on par with yours. She could be a damn good journalist if she wants to. 

“You’re such a perv, Miko,” you say, swatting her with a throw pillow.

“Says the girl who drools on this guy's sweaty photos,” she shoots back, laughing as she scrolls furiously on her phone. “Wait a minute—oh, damn. This guy’s a big deal. National team and Bastard München? He’s a whole package!”

You glance over her shoulder, smiling despite yourself. At 26, Hiori’s resume is nothing short of legendary. Back when you were just another journalist in the crowd, you’d been blown away by his talent. It was his brilliance on the field that inspired you to write that first viral article—the one that caught his eye.

Even now, it feels surreal. How did you go from admiring him from afar to… this?

“And you’re okay with not going public?” Miko asks, her tone softer this time. Her eyes flick briefly to you, filled with concern. She’s seen you through your fair share of bad relationships—flings that went nowhere and heartbreaks that left their marks.

“Yeah,” you answer, though there’s a hesitation in your voice. “Honestly, I’m kind of relieved. I don’t even want to imagine how people would react if they knew I was just… me. An ordinary nobody.”

Miko slams her phone down dramatically. “First of all, you’re not a nobody. You’re the girl who single-handedly brought Bastard München back into the spotlight. You’re the one who made everyone see their worth when they were tanking. You’re that bitch.”

You can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, leaning into the side hug she gives you.

“But seriously,” you admit, letting out a long sigh, “it feels unreal. Like… we’re from completely different worlds. If this got out, I don’t think I’d be ready for the fallout. People would rip me apart.”

Miko frowns but says nothing, letting you pass her your phone. Together, you scroll through the endless speculation about Hiori’s mystery girl. Post after post describes someone glamorous and unattainable—completely unlike you.

“That’s ridiculous,” Miko says, her voice dripping with disdain. But before you can reply, she suddenly gasps so loudly that you nearly drop your phone.

“What now?” you ask, startled.

She shoves her phone into your hands, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and fury. On the screen is a video of a rising sports influencer, her perfectly curated appearance making her look every bit the part of someone destined for the spotlight.

The interviewer’s voice is casual, almost playful. “So, you attended the recent JFA party?”

The influencer smiles coyly, a soft, practiced laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, of course. I was there.”

You can feel the tension building as the interviewer leans in slightly, their tone dropping to something conspiratorial. “And… given your connections to Bastard München and your shared sponsor, you must know Hiori Yo?”

The influencer’s eyes sparkle, and she lets out a delighted giggle. “Well, who doesn’t know Hiori? He’s incredible—on and off the field.”

Pfft. As if she knows anything about Hiori and his brilliance.

“So… are you the girl Hiori Yo was caught kissing that night?” Your stomach twists as the interviewer delivers the bombshell, their voice taking on an almost teasing quality.

The influencer doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering as if to draw attention to the gesture. Then she twirls a lock of hair, her eyes flitting away from the camera for just a moment before returning with a mischievous glint.

“Well… isn’t that for everyone to wonder?” she says, her lips curving into a playful smirk. The answer is deliberately vague, but the mischievous glint in her eyes speaks volumes, leaving just enough room for everyone’s imagination to run wild.

Miko explodes. “The audacity!” she practically shouts, throwing her hands in the air. “What is wrong with her? She’s milking this for clout! And the interviewer—ugh!”

You can’t even respond. Your gaze is glued to the screen, your chest tightening with every second of the video. The influencer’s words replay in your head, her casual demeanor and sly smile feeding into the storm of doubts you’ve tried so hard to suppress.

Miko’s rant continues unabated. “She didn’t even deny it! She knows exactly what she’s doing. God, people like her make me so mad.” She paces the room, her gestures wild and exaggerated, but you barely register her words.

Your stomach churns as you scroll through the comments beneath the video.

she’s stunning—definitely Hiori’s type. this makes so much sense they’d look so good together

Each comment feels like a jab, their assumptions cutting deeper than you thought possible. The image of you and Hiori, so ordinary and imperfect in comparison, flashes in your mind.

You glance down at yourself: wearing your favorite but worn-out pajamas, the fabric soft from too many washes. Your hair is in a messy bun, a few strands rebelliously sticking out. You’re comfortable, sure, but the reflection from the phone staring back feels painfully ordinary.

The woman in the video, with her flawless hair and perfectly styled outfit, radiates a charisma that seems effortless. She looks like someone who commands attention the moment she steps into a room, someone whose beauty turns heads without trying. 

Normally, you wouldn’t care about looking “normal.” Most days, you’re content in your own skin, finding beauty in your own way. But this? This moment makes you feel like just another face in the crowd. No striking features, no captivating allure. Just plain, unremarkable. And right now, “normal” feels less like a badge of self-acceptance and more like a curse.

Miko stops mid-rant when she notices the look on your face. “Hey, don’t let this get to you,” she says, her voice softening. She sits back down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “People love drama, and she’s giving it to them.”

“But what if people believe her?” you ask quietly, the vulnerability in your voice startling even yourself. “What if they think she’s better for him?”

She shakes her head firmly. “You can’t let strangers decide what’s best for him or for you. Hiori chose you, not some influencer fishing for likes. That says more than any of this nonsense ever could.”

You nod slowly, though the unease lingers. Deep down, you know she’s right. But as you hand her phone back, the thought persists: How long before the world finds out—and what happens when they do?

You spend the next weekend with Hiori at his apartment. Again. 

This routine has become a comforting tradition. Every Friday after work, you and Hiori grab dinner, sharing stories about your day. By the time the last train rolls in, you’re on your way to his apartment, lugging a slightly larger backpack than usual. Inside are the essentials: a change of clothes, skincare, and personal items, neatly packed alongside your work things.

It’s mundane yet romantic, this little ritual you’ve built together. Friday nights are reserved for catching up, sharing laughter, and exchanging updates about work and personal lives.

During one of these chats, he casually mentioned that Isagi and Ness know about the two of you now. You shared that Miko, your closest friend and roommate, knows too. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the video. Not yet.

That Friday night, you binge-watch movies. This time, some of his favorites, including SPEC. It’s endearing to see him so animated as he talks about what he loves, his passion stretching beyond football.

Curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over you, everything feels natural. His arm rests over your shoulders, pulling you close as you melt into his side. Occasionally, he leans in to kiss you—your knuckles, your cheek, the top of your head—absentmindedly, his eyes never leaving the screen. The faint scent of his body wash lingers in the air, grounding you in this moment, so intimate yet exhilarating.

By the time the third movie ends, you’re both ready to tuck in for the night. As you drift off in his arms, the comfort and warmth feel whole, complete.

You always wake up earlier than him. It’s a small, heartwarming detail you love about these mornings. He even got you your own coffee mug. A matching set of Nier Automata ones for both of you. With coffee in hand, you lounge in the living room, flipping through a book while the quiet hum of his apartment surrounds you.

Later, you make brunch together, settling into the kind of domesticity that makes your heart flutter. Saturdays with Hiori are always this way—unhurried and easy. You both slip into a rhythm that feels like second nature, each finding comfort in the other's presence.

When he’s gaming on his PC, you’re nearby doing some light work on your laptop, occasionally glancing up to watch his focus. When he switches to his PS5, you curl up beside him on the couch, yapping about the book or manga you’re reading as your fingers absentmindedly play with his hair. He listens quietly, humming in acknowledgment now and then, his contentment reflected in the small smile that lingers on his face.

It’s the kind of quiet companionship that makes everything feel right—as if the two of you were meant to exist in this peaceful harmony.

But this time, something disrupts the vibe.

Standing by the sink, phone in hand, your brow furrows as the video plays again. It’s the same one. The influencer, the coy smile, the teasing comments. You try to push it aside, but the weight of it lingers.

“Hey, you okay?” Hiori’s voice startles you. He’s slipped behind you, his hands resting gently on your waist as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“God, Hiori, you scared me!” You fumble with your phone, but instead of turning it off, the volume spikes, making you jump. Flustered, you quickly lower it.

“What was that?” he asks, noticing the unease in your expression.

You hesitate but eventually lead him to the couch, where you show him the video. As he watches, you fidget, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap.

“I just… it’s been bothering me,” you admit finally, your voice trembling. “Even though we’ve been dating for a few weeks now, I can’t shake this feeling that our worlds are too different. It’s pathetic that I let it bother me.”

Before he can respond, you continue, a weak laugh escaping you. “I know we’ve talked about this, but… it just gets to me sometimes.”

Hiori pauses, then gently pulls you into his arms. “Hey, s’fine. I understand. Don’t worry about them, ‘kay?” His voice is soft but steady, grounding you.

You feel his sincerity, but the nagging fear remains. “I don’t want to scare you with these feelings,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“And I wantcha ya to know ya won’t scare me. Ever.” He tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help ease yer mind?”

You shake your head, smiling faintly. “Just this… spending time with you like this, it’s enough for me.” But then, gathering your courage, you add, “Actually… I was wondering if I could take you out. On a proper date. Something special. Just the two of us.”

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but his smile grows almost immediately. “You’re asking me out, huh?” He chuckles, leaning in to kiss on the lips. “Of course. I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned.”

And for the first time in days, the weight in your chest feels a little lighter.

When midweek rolls in, you know you'll be too preoccupied since it always comes with an avalanche of tasks, and today is no different.

You're neck-deep in work, juggling content planning for upcoming videos and articles while checking in with interns you’re supervising. They're compiling research on volleyball, basketball, and surprisingly, esports, which they’ve informed you is “the next big thing.”

You slump back in your chair, fingers aching from typing, and let out a long exhale. Cracking your knuckles, you reach for your coffee, savoring the warmth as it spreads through you. It’s moments like this when caffeine feels less like a drink and more like a lifeline for your overworked soul.

Your phone buzzes on the desk, lighting up with a notification. It’s a message from Hiori.

Oooh, a Hiori pick-me-up, you think, already feeling a smile creep onto your face. Just what you need to get through this impending burnout.

The message is short:

hiori: watch fer a surprise

Attached is a link. Intrigued, you click it, and a video opens.

It’s a recent press interview featuring Hiori. He looks effortlessly charming in a black hoodie, his hair perfectly tousled in that way that reminds you of lazy weekends spent curled up on his couch. You remember him mentioning this event last weekend, but seeing him on screen still catches you off guard.

The interviewer’s question catches your attention: “So, Hiori, there’s been a lot of buzz about you and a certain sports influencer lately. Any truth to those rumors?”

Your chest tightens slightly at the mention.

Hiori tilts his head, his expression as calm and composed as ever. “Sorry, who?” he replies, his tone laced with subtle mischief. “Oh, you mean the one who has the same sponsor with our team?”

Ness, seated beside him, nudges him gently, a silent reminder to tread carefully.

The interviewer presses on. “Yes. Rumors are that she's the mystery girl you're dating. Is she?”

Hiori chuckles lightly, dismissing the question with his usual nonchalance. “Nope, not at all. We’ve never even talked to each other.”

And then, just when you think he’s moved on, he adds, “Besides, I like my girl who’s a little nerdy, enjoys the same things I do outside of football, and, oh yeah—she talks a lot.”

Your breath catches.

The comments section beneath the video is already buzzing. Fans are losing it over his indirect confirmation of the photo rumors.

did he just confirm he's taken? he’s confirming without really confirming it! whoever the mystery girl is, she’s lucky af. i will crawl in a hole and cry

But you’re not focused on them.

Hiori’s words replay in your mind, each one feeling like it was chosen just for you. He didn’t name names, but the teasing specificity left no doubt in your heart. This was his way of sharing a piece of his life with the world—without giving too much away.

Your shoulders relax as the video ends, warmth spreading through you.

Another message pops up on your screen.

hiori: would you mind writing an article about how yer favorite football player, Hiori Yo, is no longer single? hiori: also, I can’t wait to see where yer taking me fer our date. 😉

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at his playful tone.

Oh, this man.

The stress of the day doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. With Hiori’s teasing yet heartfelt reminder of how much you mean to him, you feel ready to take on whatever comes next.

amari's notes: i just finished writing this last night, sorry it took so long! i got sick for some reason and still recovering from it. made the bf read this and pointed out that journalist is not my self-insert, the roommate is my self-insert. she is so me lol. also, happy new year to all my hiori loving people! anw, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. i'll greatly appreciate it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ (if you wanna join the taglist, just comment or send me a message!)

taglist: @inu1gf @pookalicious-hq @dontmindtheevie @wannabepoeticischiya

[loredrinker]

Inflection, Context, and Elven: Lavellan’s Veilguard Ending (romance state)

Lately, I’ve seen quite a bit of criticism directed at a romanced Lavellan on my dash - particularly in the Veilguard ending, interpreting her as needy, egotistical, or entitled.

And I am wondering: Did we watch the same ending? (I find it fascinating how differently people interpret the same moments - such a reflection of the human experience.) And I couldn't help myself! I felt compelled to share my interpretations so I punched this out the last few days.

The sticking point seems to be Lavellan’s words, especially the ones spoken in Elven.

It seems like a common interpretation of Lavellan’s words here are: 

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me.” (Implying possessiveness or entitlement - and that she alone will make it better.)

The game’s delivery offers no inflection on any word though. For me, it’s always been: 

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me.” 

It’s subtle, but very different. This is just one micro-example of how much nuance is packed into the dialogue in the Veilguard ending. These lines shouldn’t be taken in isolation - especially not the Elven ones. They should be understood in the context of what Solas says to Lavellan in Elven just before, and beyond that, within the history established in Inquisition and Trespasser.

Indulgent Solas x Lavellan post ahead.

Note: I respect and appreciate all Solas ships and I will never post negativity towards other interpretations in this space. Everyone deserves to enjoy their creativity and find joy in their community. There’s more than enough Solas to go around. As for Lavellan’s portrayal in VG, it's not perfect. I understand the devs had the impossible task of balancing every interpretation of her. Some dialogue between Rook and Lavellan took me out of gameplay a bit. But I recognized then they had to condense countless versions of her into one, and perfection wasn’t possible. In general I have honest criticisms about the game but try to keep my posts positive overall.

Still here? Excellent. (And sorry, it's another long post.)

"Elven is often a game of intents, not direct mapping of phonetic meaning." The language doesn’t rely on straightforward translations of sounds or words into specific meanings. Instead, it operates on a deeper level, where intent and context carry as much weight.

Earlier in the game, when Solas confronts Elgar’nan, he says: “I must speak to you in this tongue. It seems Elven is beyond your grasp.” This insult implies that Elgar’nan has lost the ability to understand the nuanced, metaphorical nature of the language. Elven relies on shared understanding, rhythm, intent, to convey its full meaning. By Lavellan and Solas choosing to speak Elven to each other it's an acknowledgement of their shared understanding - a connection rooted in their history going back to Inquisition.

Which is why I embrace it in my interpretations.

I disliked that Veilguard kept out the Elven words and left only the English translations in. They can be found here: (Elven Language - Dragon Age Wiki)  But for funsies, let's take Lavellan’s actual Elven dialogue and translate it literally: Banal nadas. Ar lath ma, vhenan. We already know from Inquisition that Banal nadas translates roughly to "Nothing is inevitable" - the same phrase Solas uses when confronting the Nightmare Demon. So Lavellan is saying: "Nothing is inevitable. I love you, my heart."  The gall of this woman! 

Since I do my best to keep my posts playing in the game’s sandbox, I’m going to just look at what the game tells us the translations are and not get into actual translations (others have done that far better than I ever could). There are some great fandom language resources linked at the end of this post. 

Let's start where Lavellan enters and speaks in the common tongue: 

This is personal and expansive. On one level, she’s speaking as someone Solas has wronged, reminding him of the pain he’s caused her directly. But on another, she’s channeling the voices of countless others whose lives were affected by him and who will be shattered by his actions. It’s a challenge that blends her role as both an individual and the Inquisitor.

It’s also not a condemnation. Lavellan doesn’t lash out or accuse him of being irredeemable. Instead, she questions him, cutting through to reach the man beneath. She’s speaking to Solas (wisdom).

"Vhenan" is acknowledging his love for her but it’s also symbolic of his heart, the part of himself he’s buried and tried to ignore, suddenly reappearing. Solas has spent much of his journey detached and isolated, removing his heart metaphorically to push forward with his plans without the weight of emotional ties. Lavellan’s presence makes it impossible for him to keep it hidden. His heart is right there, exposed and speaking. And the ellipsis - so many words unsaid.

Immediately Solas looks down (I read it as shame). It’s a reaction back to what he said in Trespasser: that he would not have her see what he becomes. And yet, here she is. She sees him, the terrible path he has chosen, the blood on his hands, the awful things he has done, and what he’s about to do. In that moment, his shame is palpable - because Lavellan is one person he couldn’t bear to face in this state. 

And Lavellan doesn’t hesitate. Her next words are as much about holding him accountable as they are about reminding him that there is still another path. 

This isn’t some starry-eyed, naïve Inquisitor we’re dealing with (at least mine isn’t). Lavellan is fully aware at this point. But her stance is clear: no one is beyond redemption, not even the Dread Wolf himself. And she wasn’t the only one – this message is repeated throughout the game by others. 

Her words challenge the belief that has kept Solas shackled to his path. He’s convinced himself that his guilt and mistakes are too great, that there’s no turning back, and that the only option is to see his destructive plans through to the bitter end.

She doesn’t beg or demand or frame it in a way that’s grand and sweeping – she simply says “you’re wrong.”  

She’s not trying to erase his mistakes or pretend they don’t exist. She's saying, Yes, you’ve done terrible things, but that doesn’t mean you’re beyond the reach of change.

Lavellan’s journey as Inquisitor began with the Anchor - a mark born of Solas’s mistakes and choices. From the moment she touched his orb (yes, it sounds dirty), her path became entwined with his. This isn’t Lavellan selfishly claiming Solas’s path; it’s an acknowledgment that their journeys have run parallel.

Their connection was forged long before either fully understood its implications. Lavellan’s work to stabilize Southern Thedas mirrors Solas’s aim to restore a broken world, including the burdens of being forced to take on titles and labels. She is revealing her own struggles with devastating, blood-soaked choices - choices that, like his, have carried profound consequences.

Solas believes he’s been walking this path alone, but Lavellan shows him she's been walking alongside him this whole time. Now, as their paths converge again, this is a reminder of the power of connection and the burdens they’ve both borne. He's actually not alone.

Her words also carry an unspoken promise: she is ready to continue to bear the consequences with him. She knows the road ahead is painful and fraught with difficulty, but she is steadfast.

Why do I feel that people sometimes forget Lavellan’s role as Inquisitor? She wasn’t defined by Solas; she was the leader of a powerful military and political organization, forced to make horrible decisions. Whether you choose the mages or templars in Inquisition, you doom thousands to torment and death. The Empress of Orlais can live or die based on the Inquisitor’s choices. And if you’re like me and made the wrong calls on the Dalish clan war table operation, her own clan can be murdered and wiped out.  (Yes, I’m still haunted by that moment.) Her hands have blood on them too. This makes me wonder: does some criticism of the Solas/Lavellan romance stem from failing to see Lavellan as her own person? I love Lavellan for who she is as the Inquisitor - not because of Solas. Likewise, Solas is fascinating on his own. Their romance is one layer of the story, not the foundation of either character. Sometimes it feels like there are even some Solas/Lavellan lovers who have a tendency to overlook the depth and individuality of both characters outside of their romance.

Solas’s statement is a raw admission of all the guilt he carries for his deceptions and the pain he has caused her - lying to her about his identity, betraying her trust - not just as the Inquisitor, but as a person he loves.

His words are not an attempt to seek forgiveness but an acknowledgment of the truth - no matter how painful it is for them both. He knows his choices have caused devastation to the world and to her specifically. He's exposing the full weight of his dual burden: the grand, world-altering consequences of his plans and the personal betrayal of the woman he loves, who trusted him. 

Perhaps, on some level, he hopes that reminding Lavellan of his lies and treachery will convince her to abandon him, sparing her further pain. His guilt and self-loathing are so entrenched that the idea of being forgiven - or even supported – either confounds him or terrifies him.

But Solas’s confession is not just a shield to push her away. It’s also an invitation for her to see him - not the wise, compassionate companion she knew, but the flawed, broken man beneath.

This moment to me shows that Solas still values Lavellan’s understanding (we also saw it in his letter to her). He doesn’t diminish the weight of his actions but wants her to see the cost of his deception - not just for her, but for himself. To Solas, his betrayal is unforgivable. 

And yet - this "selfish" woman dares to forgive him anyway. 

Forgiveness is an act of wisdom because it requires understanding - and she reflects that wisdom right back at him.

"All you have to do is stop" is heavy with meaning. Yes, on the surface, it’s a plea to stop tearing down the Veil, to reconsider the destruction. But it’s also a plea for him to stop running, to stop isolating himself, and to stop punishing himself for his failures. She’s asking him to step out of the shadow of his self-loathing and see that there’s another way forward, not by demanding or commanding, but by offering him compassion (forgiveness). (Cole, I miss you.) 

But Solas’s guilt and self-loathing run deep.

With these words, Solas apologizes to his heart - hardening it once more. For a moment, it had softened, cracked open. But he shuts the door.

The bow that accompanies his words is loaded. A bow carries layers of meaning depending on context - reverence, respect, gratitude, apology, greeting or farewell, a spiritual act, acknowledgment, loyalty, mourning, or even a romantic gesture. Solas’s bow can mean all of these. 

He is physically reinforcing the gravity of his apology. It’s a solemn moment. He is bowing to her strength, to all she has endured because of him. And when he calls her "vhenan," it is personal. It's an apology to her and to his own heart for not choosing the life he wanted to have with her.  “...to stay by your side as Solas...as I wanted.”  

The bow also carries guilt. He is acknowledging the pain he’s caused and humbling himself before her. And his eyes in the animation during this moment – I saw haunted, tormented, tired eyes – the eyes of a man grappling with the weight of his choices and the thought that he cannot accept redemption, even if it’s offered freely.

Time for a an indulgent moment - a bow can also symbolize acceptance. What if, in that moment, it’s not just an apology? What if it’s Solas saying, “You’re right. You have walked this path with me. I acknowledge that.” The bow could be a tacit agreement - a recognition of a future with her. What if he’s asking: I’m sorry, but I can’t stop, are you still coming with me? And Lavellan’s eyes right after? She looks down, like she’s contemplating this - what if he tears the Veil down? What happens next? What do I do? Anyway, maybe I indulged with this thought a little too much.  

But, as I’ve said before, it takes a village to stop a Solas. Cue Morrigan and Mythal - but I’m not diving into that dialogue rabbit hole in this post.  

But this scene with Mythal is important. Lavellan has just watched the man she loves completely crumble in front of Mythal. He’s bent over in grief/pain, utterly vulnerable. She hears him say, in anguish, “The things that I have done.” She sees him lift the dagger - perhaps to surrender it, to shield himself from Mythal, or even as a plea to Mythal to end his torment. Whatever the intent, Lavellan is witnessing the rawest, most broken Solas. His guilt is overwhelming, and this is the first time she’s truly seeing the full weight of it laid bare (as is Rook). It’s a moment of heavy sadness for her – and for us as players. 

This scene seems to have created a universal understanding among players who love Solas, regardless of who you ship Solas with. We are all witnessing Solas in this moment of pure vulnerability. Let’s honor that shared empathy. 

Solas is bent over with the emotional collapse of centuries of obligation and guilt coming to the surface. Mythal’s departure leaves Solas vulnerable, stripped of the purpose that has guided him for so long. He is alone in his pain.

For Lavellan, can you imagine the helplessness? All she can do is offer her presence, understanding, and faith in him afterward. That might feel like so little in the face of such immense pain, but it’s all she has to give. 

Where Mythal’s words, spoken in the common tongue, are authoritative and final, Lavellan’s are intimate and personal. Her choice to speak Elven reflects her desire to meet Solas where he is - connecting with him on an intimate level.

Only after Mythal has left him exposed - that Lavellan uses the Elven language. In this moment, stripped of his defenses, he is finally open to hearing and feeling the full significance of the words and their intent.

Lavellan’s words challenge the notion that fate is immutable or inevitable. When she says, “there is no fate...,” she isn’t diminishing everything else in favor of her love; she’s rejecting the tyranny of inevitability. Her words assert that choices - rooted in love, connection, and shared purpose - have the power to shape their path forward. She reframes love as a force just as powerful as fate, capable of creating meaning and direction where there once seemed to be none.

Atonement

And at this point? Lavellan has no idea what Solas will do next. None of them do. But the combined efforts of Rook, Lavellan and Morrigan get through to him. Because Solas makes a choice - a monumental choice. He binds himself to the veil, committing to atonement. Atonement is a powerful, active word. It evokes the gravity of recognizing wrongdoing and the courage to address it. His decision to seek restoration with the Titans, to deal with the Blight, to return to where it all began, reflects the depth of his remorse and his willingness to rebuild the balance he disrupted – from the beginning. 

Solas equates atonement with isolation, believing that his punishment must be borne alone. To him, atonement requires severing ties, including the possibility of love. He doesn’t ask Lavellan to join him because he cannot conceive of burdening her with the weight of his choices and the path he must walk.

But Lavellan’s words - once again - challenge that. She offers him the possibility that his actions, no matter how devastating, do not erase the love and faith others still have in him. This is an invitation.

She's also being vulnerable here. She’s offering herself to him, knowing full well that he still might say no. A risk she’s willing to take. 

He doesn’t try to shut her out or push her away this time. Instead, he shifts the focus - he needs her to understand the gravity of the path they are about to walk. His response reflects his own vulnerability as well, he wants her to know what she’s choosing, but he can’t bring himself to reject her offer outright. 

Solas responds in Elven - his acknowledgment of their shared understanding and their entire relationship and journey that has shaped them.

His words also mark a turning point: for the first time, Solas allows Lavellan her agency. Throughout their relationship, he has taken her choices away. He broke off their relationship in Inquisition. He vanished after Corypheus’s defeat, leaving her no say in it all.

And he knows this! During their confrontation in Trespasser, when Lavellan demands answers, he justifies his deception with, “And what would you have had me say? That I was the great adversary in your people’s mythology?” Her cutting reply, “I would have had you trust me!” lands with devastating clarity. His face falls, struck by the hard truth: the man who values freedom has stripped hers away. And he's going to do it again.

This moment in Veilguard feels like a callback to that. Lavellan is asserting her choice. And this time, Solas doesn’t take it from her.

By framing his destination in such stark, "terrible" terms, Solas isn’t pushing her away out of cruelty. He’s laying bare the enormity of what lies ahead, warning her of the peril while giving her the freedom to choose for herself. It’s his way of ensuring she understands the stakes.

Solas is doing what she requested long ago - trusting her - and what a choice to place that trust in. He’s entrusting her to make an informed decision about stepping onto a path that could shape the future of Thedas. He is trusting Lavellan’s strength and resiliency. And in trusting her, Solas reveals a quiet, unspoken truth: he doesn’t want to face this journey alone. By even presenting the choice, he reveals a quiet hope that she might go with him, despite everything.

To me, what makes this moment so achingly beautiful is the duality in his expression. His eyes seem to plead two things at once: “I don’t want to put you in harm’s way,” and “I can’t deny wanting to be with you.” There’s a raw vulnerability in the way he looks at her.

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me.” 

Lavellan’s response is a direct challenge to Solas’s warning. He tells her the path ahead will be awful - because of him. But she counters, saying that it’s because of him that it won’t be. This isn’t her forcing herself into his journey or suggesting that she alone will make it better. Instead, it’s her way of expressing that his presence will give her the strength to face whatever lies ahead. She’s trying to ease his mind, while also signaling her willingness to trust him again.

At the same time, her words acknowledge the weight of Solas’s suffering, offering herself as a partner to bear that burden together. She isn’t dismissing the risks or downplaying the severity of what’s to come - she’s choosing to stand beside him, fully aware of the challenges ahead.

It’s not about personal gain; it’s about shared resilience. Lavellan’s focus is on what they can endure together, not on what she might receive from the journey.

And since the Fade reflects emotions, as many have pointed out, their combined trust and love could manifest in ways neither of them can predict. Their bond has the power to shape not just their path but the very world around them.

This declaration is past, present and future; it’s a reaffirmation of their bond, a recognition that they’ve been walking the path of the dinan’shiral together all along. It’s future focused - she is offering to shoulder the burden with him going forward.  

She’s also telling him that she won't abandon him, no matter how hard the road ahead may be. 

And at the end of the day, she's a woman who still loves him. What does Prince Lir say in The Last Unicorn? "I love whom I love."

I've never interpreted Lavellan as someone sitting by a window for ten years, writing sad poetry and sighing into the wind, longing for Solas. She’s been busy - rebuilding a fractured world, navigating political fallout, and seeking understanding. Lavellan’s love for Solas isn’t blind devotion; she’s holding onto the possibility of redemption and the deep impact he had on her life. In my world state, Lavellan’s clan is wiped out. The people of the Inquisition have become her family, the ones she fights for and protects. And indirectly, Solas gave her that family. Despite the pain he’s caused, her love for him reflects the complexity of her journey - one defined not by a single relationship, but by hope, resilience, and the connections she’s forged along the way.

Lavellan then leans in to kiss him, and Solas allows himself to be drawn in. This moment is acceptance - a silent vow, a promise sealed in their shared vulnerability. It’s an intimate connection forged in front of those who have just witnessed the emotional storm that brought them to this point, as if to say, “This is where we stand, together.”

While I won’t dive into fly-cam images (you can find some here), there are some tender subtle details: the way he caresses her hands with his thumbs, the way he holds onto her one hand as she pulls away, as if he’s not ready to let go. But I promised to stay within game constraints.

And then Solas turns to Rook and says, “Thank you.”

Solas doesn’t thank Rook when he hands them the dagger, nor when he’s preparing to walk into the Fade. He says it after the kiss. Make of that what you will but Rook’s is symbolic for me, especially after thinking about this ending a bit.

In thanking Rook, Solas acknowledges not only their actions but also their understanding of the connection he shares with Lavellan. Rook, transformed by their own relationships and the bonds they’ve formed throughout their journey, embodies the themes that have always defined Dragon Age to me: connection, fellowship, community, love, and redemption. These games (again, for me) have always been about how people, despite their flaws and struggles, can come together to make the impossible possible.

Rook’s symbolism in the redemption ending feels like the culmination of this ethos. They represent how even those who begin on the periphery of great events can become central to forging bonds and creating change. Solas’s gratitude is for Rook's empathy, their recognition of the importance of connection, and their role in bringing these threads of love and redemption together. I'll go cry now.

And off they go into the Fade.

The Final Translation 

"With Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain dead, and the Inquisitor finally reunited with her true love, it looked like one of the biggest stories the world had ever seen was finally drawing to a close."  

Varric’s narration ties the ending image back to the connection between Inquisition and Veilguard. Inquisition is the Inquisitor’s story; Veilguard is Rook’s. Solas serves as the thread linking them. Varric frames this moment through Lavellan’s perspective, narrating the story like one of his novels - not to diminish Solas, but to highlight the Inquisitor’s journey. After all, Veilguard wouldn’t exist without Inquisition. Rook wouldn’t be working with Varric or searching for Solas if not for the Inquisitor.

As much as I would have loved a deeper focus on Solas, Veilguard wasn’t his story. If Inquisition is the Inquisitor’s story and Veilguard is Rook’s, this ending is a shared culmination: for a romanced Lavellan, it’s the personal resolution of her journey; for Rook, it’s recognition of their critical role in saving Thedas.

Okay, indulgence over - whew, that was long! I really need to practice shorter posts.

In the end, those who dislike this romance or this ending probably always will. That’s fine; I just wanted to share my interpretations because I genuinely love this story for all its complexity.

To everyone who made it to the end of this post - thank you for joining me in my indulgence. May your own Solas ships continue to bring you joy and inspiration.

Elven language resources: 

Project Elvehn on AO3 

Elven Translator 

World Anvil Elvhen Resource 

Reddit on Elvhen Poetry 

[eh-fandomtrash]

This may shock people who are not interested in science and technology, but there are many different types of scientist in the world.

To add to this complexity a biologist is not necessarily a medical researcher, just as a physicist is not necessarily a specialist on the stars or the microscopic. This is why terms like astrophysicist and microbiologist and quantum physicist and, well, oncologist exist. Do we not all love the marine biologist meme? And we haven’t even started discussing geologists, chemists, or ecologists here to name a few…

And I have bemoaned many times (not on here) that our world would be further along technologically if they all had to talk to each other about their fields and breakthroughs regularly.

I want an artificial leaf so badly…

Anyway the human body is so stupid complex that even if someone does specialize in cancer sometimes they still down further and specialize only in ONE SPECIFIC type of cancer that arises in ONE SPECIFIC part of the body. The regionality of cancer is one of the things that makes it such a fucking pain in the ass, this is second only to its ability to say, “so I started over here, but I am going all the way over there to those cells that have nothing to do with me because fuck you I do what I want,” and go from being a bladder exclusive problem to a bladder and brain problem.

I guess my point is that scientists are a very diverse group and fuck cancer in particular.

oh dang, it's gonna take them even longer to get home in that

[Image description a news screenshot reading "Physicists make tiny model of Star Trek's USS Voyager that's smaller than a human hair"]

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter Map Twenty-Nine

TW: violence and harassment against women, police brutality, nsfw, pda

The week goes on, with no official news from the LAPD about your break in. Tom assures you it’s no great surprise. He’s running his own inquiries, and if you’ve lost your faith in the system, you believe in him. You clean up your apartment a little bit, and find a little optimism in the fact that this hotel room actually has bigger windows for your plants. 

Tom babies them, handling the delicate stems tenderly, watching and mimicking the soft way you arrange their leaves, carrying the pots as gently as he carries you. He catches you watching this with abject fascination and admiration, and grins as you look away, flushing, caught in the act of falling more in love with him. 

Needless to say, you are surprised when Tom asks you to go to a party on Friday. He’s laying on your tummy, using it as a pillow while you both giggle at a funny movie and mindlessly shove chocolate and popcorn into your faces. 

“It’s for my boss to meet you,” he says, “for the case.” 

“What do you mean?” you ask, not quite understanding. 

“Sometimes…we get jaded as cops. We shovel a lot of shit. But putting a face to a problem…it helps it get solved, sometimes.”

“Oh. Ok.” You understand all too well, how you start to guard yourself when you work an emotionally taxing job involving people at their worst, their most vulnerable. It does all start to run together, after a while. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it’s the human brain’s way of defending itself from the overload. 

“I think…” he goes on, playing with your hair. “It might help, if he sees what you mean to me. You’re the only girl I’ve been serious about, since…my wife.” 

You close your eyes at hearing that, as if you weren’t already head over heels enough for this man. All the love you feel for him stews with guilt for the thing you’re going to have to do on Saturday, and you can’t stop the welling of tears in the corners of your eyes. “Ok,” you agree again, somehow speaking past the lump in your throat. “We gotta put on a show or something?” 

Tom grins wickedly down at you, his light touch making its way down to trace the neckline of your shirt. It soothes you, somehow, makes the gnawing demon inside quiet down, even if just for a little while. It’s going to be ok, you tell yourself, even if deep down you know you’re lying.

“Nah, baby. All we gotta do is show up. The rest is obvious.” You take his paw of a hand, kissing his palm before holding it over your heart. 

It’s going to be ok, you tell yourself again. You’re going to get through this shitstorm, and then the two of you are going to live happily ever after…

You tell yourself this, because if you don’t, you’re going to start crying again and you’re not going to stop until they sedate you in an institution. 

***

Your first thought, when you snake up the winding mountain road to Captain Wander’s aerie of a hillside mansion looking out over the glittering lights of L.A., is ‘Goddam, do cops really make this kind of money?’ 

You know he’s management and all but Jesus Christ, you thought only movie stars and drug dealers could afford to live up here in the Hollywood Hills. 

The place is bumping, and a line of cars are parked outside, clogging the narrow road. The parking style looks amusingly familiar–you suppose Tom is not the only LEO who just puts his car wherever he wants. You wonder what Wander’s well-heeled neighbors think about all this. Maybe they know their complaints will be ignored tonight. 

He can tell you’re nervous, judging by the way he’s got his arm around your shoulders snugly and his side molded to your own. “You okay?” he whispers, leaning down to kiss the top of your ear. 

“Never been better…” There are a lot of people here, and they all seem to know each other…talking and laughing and hanging out on the back deck with the fancy string lights and the big metal tiki torches illuminating their celebration. 

You hobnob in, doing your best to mingle and shake hands and smile and let Tom lead you around to meet his coworkers and their plus ones. 

He pops you sparkling champagne and grabs himself a beer from the mini fridge, and you actually start to settle in a little bit with some liquid courage and the niceties of strangers. A nurse that works the third floor at your hospital is here, and that makes you feel ten times more welcome. Her husband is a senior detention officer in Tom’s office, and while you talk and laugh with his wife about healthcare antics, he and Tom awkwardly stare at each other and try to discuss work. 

“See?” Tom says, nudging your shoulder and handing you another tiny champagne bottle. “You’re doing just fine, pretty lady.” He leans on the back railing with you, looking absolutely long and delicious in denim and a silky button down, and once again you have to stop yourself from climbing him like a feral squirrel. 

Out for his nuts. 

The thought catches you off guard, and you choke on laughter. 

He raises his eyebrow at you. “I was right.”

“What?” You chuckle, hiccuping into the back of your hand. 

He gives your ass a covert squeeze, making you jump and gasp. “You are a little weirdo.” 

“Tom!” You slap his bicep, lightly, and he pulls you against him just a bit too close for social gathering standards, but you don’t care, because pressed against his hips with his arms around your waist, looking up at the light clogged night sky, is exactly where you ought to be. 

He grinds against you, and you stifle a moan-giggle into your arm. “Have another drink, y/n,“ he teases, mouth pressed against that thin piece of tender flesh behind your ear. 

“Shutup, meathead.” You grin up at him, twisting around to press your ass more firmly against his legs, heavily amused by the subtle flair of his nostrils and tightening of his fingers into your plush flesh. 

“I have half a mind to take you right back to my car and make you sit on my cock.” 

A delicious quiver runs through you, and like that cat in perpetual heat you’ve become, you lean back into him, giving up so easily, arching against his sturdy form. “What are you waiting for?” 

“Meet my boss, then we’ll talk about it.” 

Captain Wander is in the kitchen—if you can call it that. It’s massive, open and warm, with long polished granite counters and sleek appliances. Everything is spotless. Uncluttered. You overflow with envy for a moment, looking around at the high ceiling and neon beverage displays. 

Tom places a hand on the captain’s shoulder, grabbing his attention from the other guests at his expensive bar table. “Jack, this is my girlfriend, y/n.”

“Hi, I’m y/n,” you say, and then flush with the realization that Tom already introduced you and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of his boss of all people. 

However, Wander is gracious about it, smiling kindly at you and pressing your hand in his. You can't help but notice how soft his hands are compared to Tom’s. Manicured, well-kemp. He’s been behind a desk for a long time…

“It’s nice to meet you, y/n. You must have a high pain tolerance, if you’re into my boy Tom here.” There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he says it though, and Tom rolls his eyes with a sideways smile. You can tell by this downright deferential reaction (for Tom) that he looks up to Wander. 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

Wander grins. “Seriously though. You couldn’t be in better hands. Tom is a great guy.” He claps his subordinate on the shoulder, and fuck if Tom isn’t like a puppy rolling over to get his belly scratched. You’ve never seen anything like it–except maybe, with you. 

“Hey,” says the Captain, looking directly at you. “Can I steal my man for a second? We gotta talk some shop.”

Since that’s pretty much why Tom brought you over here, you nod agreeably. “Sure. Don’t keep him long though.” 

Wander winks at you before throwing an arm over Tom’s shoulders, leading him down a hallway where you suppose there might be an office or something. Tom looks over his shoulder at you, mouthing, You ok?

You nod, even though you hate navigating a crowd this big alone, and you miss him already. You decide to get some air, wandering out back to sit by the pool. The view is spectacular, the glittering lights of the city spread out below you. Plenty of people had the same idea as you, and you take a seat with your drink, trying not to look half as awkward as you feel without Tom’s steady presence at your side. 

Some of the other wives and girlfriends whose other halves have wandered off chat you up before drifting away. The lighted pool looks inviting, and you almost wish you’d brought your suit. 

“Oh shit, look who it is! You’re not still with that loser Ludlow, are you sweetheart? Come over here if you want a piece of a real man.” 

Your head turns as though on a swivel, disbelieving that this fucker would dare show his face here, and that he would have the guts to talk to you again. McCauley, the douchey detective from the bar on your first date with Tom, is seated on a lounger back in the shadows. You realize that everyone has pointedly been avoiding him. He’s clearly drunk, his speech slurred. When he stands he almost falls over, but somehow manages to stumble towards you. 

“Give it a rest, Kevin,” your newfound compatriot yells over, rolling her eyes at the drunken idiot.

You decide to ignore him and get closer to the other pool patrons, but his tough grip clamps your wrist before you can run, and instinctively you pull back and hit him in the face.

It’s not like you, to be physically violent, especially not with men twice your size who are stupendously drunk—after all, you know how that usually works out in the end—but over these past few weeks your inner cavewoman has been woken by Tom Ludlow, and then right after that, your inner scratching, biting, kicking, screaming, trapped child by Julian. 

You look at your hand in disbelief, then up at McCauley, his fingers delicately pressed to the blooming bright red handprint on the side of his head. His expression is surprise, then seething rage, and he yanks you forward just a little, tiny bit…but that’s all it takes to incite screams, to make you shield your face, to make you cower before him like a little bitch.

Ludlow is on him in a second, so fast you wonder, later, if he jumped off the porch deck just to get over to you, and he grabs him by the collar of his nice button up. You watch McCauley’s feet leave the ground, you hear a loud, blunt thunk, and then the drunkard is flying into the pool, splashing a chlorinated wave over you and the man now at your side with his warm hands on your face, protecting you from the outside world, from the people that otherwise would be seeing you cry. 

If they were paying attention to you, that is, and not losing their shit laughing at the groaning, bloody man surfacing from the water with his hand pressed over his nose. 

“You okay?” Tom asks, tucking your hair behind your ears and kissing your forehead, and if it wasn’t so heart warming you’d be embarrassed. 

You nod, wiping wetness from your cheeks. “He scared me, I hit him.” 

“That’s my girl,” Tom tells you, grinning wide, and you preen under his praise, smiling despite yourself.  

Tom pulls you against his side protectively, and addresses McCauley. “Either you get the fuck out of here,” he tells him, calmly, almost cordially, “or I throw you over the fence into the freeway next.” 

McCauley is all eyes, and you can tell by his expression, all rage, for you, but you stand your ground, chin raised, and you think of the chihuahua again, so brave when tucked behind its big bull mastiff guardian. You feel…good. Guilty about it, but good. Powerful, with this novel feminine energy pulsing through your blood. It’s so strange and melodramatic, to feel as if you’ve been possessed by Lilith herself for hitting some guy that touched you without your permission at a pool party. 

Your new friend loops her arm with your own. “Uh, you wanna transfer to med surge?” she teases.

Tom lets you go with her to talk and grab a drink while he makes sure McCauley gets to a taxi…safely. You’re much more relaxed, now, as if all the nervous energy transferred from your right hook into McCauley’s skull on impact, and you settle in to talk to Abby from medsurge and her cop wife friends, equipped with frosty Chardonnay bottles. 

Before long, and when the alcohol is really brushing your hackles down into soft fleece, Tom, Wander, and the cop husbands join you. You lean into your fierce protector, and he kisses your temple, like he can’t help but put his lips on you even if you’re surrounded by other people. 

It’s good here—better than you thought you’d ever get, especially in a place like LA—nestled by Tom Ludlow and laughing and drinking and talking. The stories that cops tell are wild, heart wrenching, hilarious. You’re gasping in horror as often as bursting out in laughter. 

Captain Wander—Jack—sets his beer down and commands the attention of his guests, a small wayward smile directed in Tom’s direction, and your tough detective bristles and squirms under the attention of his superior. You almost feel a little jealous of the way Wander subdues him. 

“Now Tom,” Jack says, looking directly at you. “I have some store-eees about Tom.”

Tom grumbles, and you push him playfully. “Oh yeah?” You ask, matching his grin. “Let me guess, he saved a toddler from a house fire and then went back in for their pet kitten?” 

This earns you a laugh around the table, even from embarrassed Tom. 

“Looks like she’s got your number, Luds,” one of his colleagues teases, patting his shoulder. 

Tom looks at you like you’ve got more than just that, and like when you get out of here he’s going to fuck you silly, but the problem with that is you want to be fucked stupid, so you continue, “okay, let’s hear it! I want all Tom’s stories, especially the really embarrassing ones.” 

You are in so much trouble, for egging this on, says his hand gripping your thigh firmly, sending a delicious, achy twang deep into your pussy. 

”Tom’s always the guy you call when you need to get shit done,” Jack starts, speaking directly to you. “Few years back, we had a big time dealer in holding. This guy was real scum of the earth—I’m talking famous among his kind. Every junkie from here to Sonoma had his number—“

“Sonoma?” You interrupt. “Is that far?”

A murmur of laughter ripples through Jack’s guests, and the Captain smiles at you as if he finds you endearing. 

“It’s about 400 miles away,” says Tom to you. Then, to Jack: “she’s from Kansas.” 

“Have you shown her around yet?” The Captain asks, and there is some underlying innuendo in his tone that you can’t quite decipher. 

“Yeah, a little bit.” You look up at Tom, and his jaw is clenched just a little too tight for your liking. To loosen him up, you grab just above his knee, in that sensitive alcove, and squeeze. 

This earns you a jump, and then a brutish grumble of annoyance. You want to ask him if he’s okay, because of his sudden change in demeanor, but Wander is already continuing with his tale. 

“Anyway, we had been trying to get this guy for years, and finally we had him in holding. Only problem was, without a confession, we couldn’t go forward with the conviction...and we had to let him go. That’s where Tom comes in.” 

“Like a human wrecking ball,” one of his coworkers chimes in. 

“Hey,” Wander shrugs, “that’s always been Tom. He’s the guy you call if you want shit done.“ He toasts to the ever-stiffening man beside you, and you grab two of his fingers, wrapping your palm around them in what you hope is a comforting gesture. 

“Anyway, we got that confession,” Jack says. “And then some.”

“At first I didn’t know what the hell he was gonna do with that 91 directory,” Tom’s colleague adds, patting him on the shoulder. 

“They had to screw that scumbag’s jaw back into place,” another says. 

“That’s why he’s the best of the best,” Wander tells you after a big gulp of beer. “You’ve got a good man here, y/n.”

“No doubt about it.” 

But doubt is a funny thing. It plants a seed deep inside your brain, and before you know it that seed has sprouted into wisteria vines and begun to wrap all around your squishy pink organ, binding its thoughts in chaos…

[in1-nutshell]

I would like to request juno having the sparkling at the worst time and place

Highly requested and now here!

Yes, I know that Bots cant have sparklings like humans do. Yes, I did this pregnancy loosely based off of human pregnancy.

Hope you enjoy!

Juno and the sparkling

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Romance, Mentions of pregnancy and birth but nothing too graphic, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

The ship was buzzing with excitement and anxiousness.

Juno’s due date was coming soon, and all the final preparations were being placed.

Perceptor and Brainstorm made it their job to check that everything was sparkling proof… after checking 50 times that is…

Rodimus was rarely seen too far from Juno.

Did this make his job harder?

Yes, Magnus had already long given up on trying to get him to stay for more than half the day.

Rodimus was uncharacteristically nervous about the sparklings arrival.

Juno, for once, was being the levelheaded one and tried to calm their partner down.

Rodimus had a paintbrush in one servo and several color chips in the other. Juno walks into their shared habsuite and raises and optic. Juno: “Roddy? What are you doing?” Rodimus: “I’m repainting the habsuite.” Juno sighed tiredly. Juno: “Roddy this is the 5th time this week. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Rodimus: “But its just not right. How is the sparkling going to fall asleep fast if the colors don’t help her sleep.” Juno: “Help him fall asleep?” Rodimus: “I found some articles on sparklings from Perceptor and Ratchet’s archives. And its she Juno.” Juno: “Nope, it’s he. I can feel it.” Juno takes the brush from his servo and replaces it with their own. Juno: “How about we lay back and watch something?” Rodimus: “But—” Juno: “Do you really want to argue with a heavily sparked bot right now Rodimus?” Rodimus: “… I’ll set the movie up.” Juno: “I’ll get the snacks.”

The arrival of the Scavengers was a welcoming surprise.

Swerve had gotten in contact with Misfire and told him the news.

The rest of their crew wanted to stop by and personally congratulate the pair since they were close by.

No one saw the harm in that.

Juno looks over and spots Spinister. They wave at him as they try to get through the crowd of bots. Juno: “Spinister!” Spinister jumps a bit at the sound of his name but relaxes seeing Juno slightly waddle to him. He walks over and pulls them in a side hug. Spinister: “I leave for a couple cycles and now your sparked. You didn’t waste any time.” Juno chuckled a bit returning the side hug. Juno: “A couple thousand cycles you mean.” They both chuckle a bit. Most of the Scavengers are staring in amazement and concern. Rodimus is just staring at the servos on his Conjunx’s waist. Juno: “Oh you have to see the new built in cameras in the crib Spin! Perceptor did an amazing job in modifying it.” Spinister: “Lead the way.” The pair walk out of the room chatting away leaving a silent room behind. Fulcrum: “Wh-what just happened?” Crankcase: “I second that.” Rodimus gets a strange look on his face and quickly walks after the pair. Krok: “Have you ever—” Misfire: “Seen Spinister so… civil? Not in my lifetime. Bet they used to be a thing.” Perceptor: “Juno remained with little to no contact with most Autobots and Decepticons throughout the war. The likelihood of them meeting Spinister, let alone be courting him is slim to none.” Brainstorm: “… Are you placing any bets?” Perceptor: “Brainstorm!”

This was the hot news now spreading around the ship.

Jumpy, scared of their own shadow Juno was happily chatting with the most trigger happy Decepticon, Spinister.

Rodimus eventually joined them and tried to make a wall in between the Con and Juno.

Occasionally trying to ask questions on how the pair knew each other.

Too bad none of the questions would get answered.

The ship’s alarm went off.

Someone was invading the ship again.

Rodimus tried to get in contact with the others, but communications were down.

As much as it pained him, he sent Juno and Spinister to the med bay.

It would be the safest place for Juno to be in.

Rodimus was surprised when Juno reached out and grabbed his servo.

They had a pleading look on their face.

He almost caved in, but Spinister gently took their servo.

 With a silent promise the bots ran off into different directions.

On the way the way to the med bay, Spinister and Juno found the rest of the Scavengers.

They all feezed at the sound of the Empyrean suite began playing in the halls.

Tarn was here…

Everyone quickly ran into the nearest room and locked it.

Too bad they hid one of Brainstorm experimental locked rooms.

The room not only was heavily fortified but had locks thicker than Grimlock’s helm.

Nevertheless, they all started fortifying the room in the worst case scenario.

Everyone pants and vents tiredly. The music sounding a bit closer than before. Everyone hushes down. Fulcrum: “At least it can’t get any worse than this right?” Misfire shots him a glare. Misfire: “You did not just say that.” Fulcrum: “I’m trying humor Misifre.” Crankcase: “Sorry but I’m siding with Fulcrum on this one. It can’t get worse than this.” Misfire: “Literally everything goes wrong when you say that! Right Grimmy?” Grimlock nods in agreement. SPLASH! Juno slowly looks down at the fluids running down their pedes. They frantically tap Spinister’s arm to look. His optics widen significantly. Spinister: “Oh no.” Krok looked over. Krok: “What do you mean—oh Primus now!” Everyone looked over in horror at the fluids on the floor. Misifre: “I told you!”

After the first few moments of terror, Spinister takes control.

Everyone’s servos on deck.

There was a sparkling to be delivered.

Fulcrum, due to his squeamish tanks, was put on communications duty with Crankcase.

Both were trying different channels for anyone to answer.

Grimlock was to make sure the door and all the barricades stayed in place.

He even managed to promise Juno that nothing would get past him.

Misfire would be Juno’s stress ball/ comforter.

His servos were going to need repairs with how hard Juno was squeezing.

Krok would be Spinister’s make do nurse.

Which was mainly passing Spinister things and holding Juno down.

Juno had to be gagged to muffle their screams and cries of pain.

Spinister was doing everything he could to make this a safe birth for the sparkling with the limited supplies around.

Fulcrum managed to get a signal.

Fulcrum: “Hello? Is there anyone there?” Drift: “This is Drift speaking.” Fulcrum: “We are here in one of the rooms close by the med bay and need medical assistance.” Drift: “What happened? Anyone hurt?” Fulcrum: “Well—” Misfire: “Can’t you hold it in?!” Juno angrily spits out their gag. Juno: “YOU TRY HOLDING IN A SPARKLING AS STUBBORN AS THEIR FATHER!!!” Fulcrum: “Did you get that?” Drift: “Oh… Oh sweet Primus its happening! I’ll get medical assistance over—” CLICK! The call had been cut off. Fulcrum sighs tiredly. Misfire: “Put this back—Did you just try and bite me!?” Juno: “I WILL BITE OFF MORE THAN THA—AAAAARRRGGGHHHH!!” Meanwhile with Drift… Drift runs to Rodimus and Ratchet’s side as they watch the DJD’s ship fly away. Drift: “Roddy! Ratty! We’ve got to go now! Its Juno!” Rodimus looked at him worried. Rodimus: “What happened?! Are they okay!?” Drift: “I just got off the com with Fulcrum, they are having the sparkling now!” Rodimus: “NOW!?”

Drift and Ratchet had never seen Rodimus look so stressed and barrel through a crowd so fast.

They followed behind him, recruiting First Aid and Velocity on the way.

It took a bit for them to find the right room before Rodimus finally melted the right door with his flaming servos.

Grimlock fully decked him in the face, knocking him out cold.

At least he kept his promise.

Rodimus woke up a few minutes later in the med bay with a smiling Drift above him.

He groaned as he woke, gripping his helm right as the memories of the past few hours came rushing in.

Rodimus quickly jumps up from the med slab and grabs Drift. Rodimus: “Juno! Where’s—" Drift shushes him and leads him to a separate room in the med bay. The Scavengers were there surrounding something while Juno, in the med slab, was talking to Spinister and Ratchet. Rodimus: “Juno!” He quickly ran up to his Conjunx, knelt to their level and gave them a tight hug. Juno chuckled weakly burying their face in his neckcables. Some tears escaped from both parties. Juno pulls away and gesture to the Scavengers. Juno: “I think that there is someone there who wants to meet you.” Rodimus freezes a bit before he slowly walks to the crowd. There is a lot of cooing as the Cons part a way for him to go through. In the little basset was a sparkling. His sparkling. Juno and his sparkling. Rodimus smiles down at the little one. The sparkling smiles back. The bitty had Juno’s smile. Rodimus: “Hey there, its me you father.” He let the sparkling grab his digit. A series of happy chirps and whirls came out. Juno: “Looks like our son likes you. Don’t you Flare?” A son! His little Flare. Rodimus carefully picked up the sparkling and held him to his chassis. They both smiled… then the sparkling sneezed and busted into flames. Everyone screamed in surprise as the flames died down. Rodimus: “HE CAN FLAME OUT!!!” He started twirling around with the laughing sparkling in his grasp. The medics tried to get Rodimus to stop twirling around with the sparkling. The Scavengers were just trying to comprehend what had just happened. Juno’s optic was twitching, already making a mental note to have fire extinguishers at the ready. BANG! The med bay doors flew open as a disheveled Perceptor and Brainstorm vented heavily. Perceptor: “Who was going to tell me Juno had the sparkling?!”

[afanofcats]

it took years to finally get to the point where humanity was ready to join the rest of the intelligent universe, with their ego you would have thought them to have created the concept of intergalactic communications, I mean, they even thought they were alone for the longest time. but all of that put aside, it is always nice to welcome new members. we finally let them into our meetings after years and years of observation, ambassadors, lectures, and education. we needed to get their scientists, both physical and social, up to code. we gave them the run down on how to communicate using the automated universal translators, we tested their health and what types of food they could digest. we held interviews and got to know them. all this aside, the first thing mentioned at the meeting was something they called "OSHA".

"you need to have a code that tells people how to work, its for their own safety"

"why do you need a code for this? is there not enough self preservation and logic within your kind to make those choices independently?"

"well, what about building? cant make sure there are any unsafe working conditions or people cutting corners for the sake of saving time"

"really? you all made it this far as a species without being able to look out for each other and yourselves? you need a book, and code, to tell you how to not make certain choices that could result in a hazardous environment?"

"it is for safety."

I wish I could show you the looks on everyone's faces, how had these people, who had made it this far as a race, not have the logic to not kill themselves or set traps for others? that is what the majority of us failed to understand, most of the intelligent life in the universe thus far had only gotten to the point where they are through working together to preserve the growth and safety of themselves and others. the fact that these people did not have the discipline to not kill each other baffled the court.

it was also wondered if this "OSHA" was some kind of God, they seemed to worship it like one. and these outrageous lengths they want to implement could only be thought of by some madman worshipping some sort of god, so we will do our best to respect their traditions.

it was soon after this meeting that the humans had introduced us to hardhats and orange vests, which are clearly just primitive versions of the hover shields and glow jackets developed centuries ago by the founder of the intergalactic alliance. the fact that they found us before moving past this checkpoint is baffling.

the process of setting up the un-needed "safety measures" often took far longer than the construction itself, and I am not too sure how they expect these ill-fitting hats to stay on our heads in a low to no gravity environment. the humans seem to be proud of themselves for thinking that they have made this place safer by having us fallow their little "OSHA" guidelines. whatever makes them happy, I suppose.

they will need to learn eventually that we already have safety measures, they just are not what they are used to. until we get to that point, we will need to suffer the ill-fitting and unflattering colors of their lord and savior, "OSHA"

One of the largest conditions humanity had for joining the intergalactic council was the implementation of some organization called 'OSHA'

[year2000electronics]

do u watch the sonic movies just for agent stone and robotnik

i mean... originally i was going to, yeah! the exact moment the first ever trailer dropped (april 30, 2019) i was already enamored with jim carrey robotnik, and ready to accept that even if sonic's design didn't get changed (which, come on, this is hollywood... usually if an adaptation sucks then it sucks til the bitter end. some of us certainly didnt see the redesign coming), this movie would be my cult classic. flop or no flop. ugly or pretty sonic.

i guess because... i saw a lot of myself in the spin jim was putting on the character! eggman had always been the sonic character that fascinated me the most as i played all the mario & sonic crossover games as a kid, but the particular interpretation of this robotnik- flowing black coats with red trim, someone who grew up as a very lonely kid and so now compensates with leaning into the "lone wolf of evil" aesthetic, someone who has a hard time emoting and feels more like machine than a person so compensates with BIG, LOUD THEATRICS, and a BOMBASTIC TONE OF VOICE! i looked at him and i saw me. i know it sounds a little silly and a lot of jimbotnik's traits come from the fact that that's just jim carrey's style of humour and slapstick but he's just always been kinda special to me even from the beginning.

but yknow, then sonic's design gets fixed! exciting! and february 2020 rolls around, the EXCITEMENT is in the AIR. me i was always going to be fine, nothing about rob needed to be fixed, but now people are actually EXCITED for the movie! YAY!! i head into the movie, and robotnik is everything i could have ever wanted and more. he's silly. he's COOL. he has his own DANCE SCENE. but then i keep getting flashbanged by these SCENES where robotnik keeps getting like, really handsy with his little assistant he has? like he's putting his hands in his mouth and telling him to pin himself against the wall? and then this emotionally-constipated MESS of a man shouts "I LOVE THE WAY YOU MAKE THEM???" WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WAIT WE'RE JUST MOVING ON? ARE WE GONNA GO BACK? NO?! OKAY!!

so obviously im in love with them. with that aspect of the movie. this improvised relationship where both actors asked themselves the question "wait, if robotnik hates humans, why does he keep this one around?" and that question would stick with me for all these 3 movies. it's just so interesting to think about. not to mention how well stone and robotnik just work together as an onscreen duo

but, y'know, then i started really liking the movie's strange, wacky style of storytelling and jokes- i had never seen a cgi animal movie that took the human characters THIS seriously yknow? and by that i mean characters like tom are goofy ofc but it feels like in movies like smurfs they almost want you to not care about the humans, but here, you have stone going from Figurehead for Robotnik's Parade of Black Suits to Guy Who Genuinely Has An Emotional B-Plot In Sonic 3, because of the love fans showed for the character and for how jim carrey and lee majdoub played off each other. even characters like maddie get more in movie 2 because of how tika sumpter said she wanted her character to do more LIKE... LIKE?!

the humour really gets me too, its so strange in a fun way i love. if i was just watching it for rob and stone i wouldnt be watching the knuckles show. ive grown to ADORE the world of the sonic movies, and the actual superpowered animals are cute too! i like their designs, and yknow, this love i have for the sonic movies HAS inspired me to check out more of the games, the shows, the comics, not only to see more of my beloved robotnik (who, yes, i love EVERY version of now. no version of the eggman can escape my love. he is the perfect man) but also to see the other parts of sonic lore because even if it's not like sonic is my fav of all time... i like the storytelling now!!

but stuff like that- my entire lil rant- i think it's why i try not to get gatekeepy when it comes to fandom. because for every series you were there for in the beginning and have an encyclopedic knowledge of, you will have another one where you're only there for a small part or only have a casual enjoyment of. i like to afford other people that kindness because there come times and places when i will be a casual enjoyer of something, and hopefully people will afford that kindness back to me. because even if i do explore other parts of sonic lore and diligently appreciate all parts of the movie, maybe the fact that i'm so robotnik-&-stone centric is still being too much of a casual for some people. maybe i'm only a fairweather fan. even so- even if people think i'm only watching these movies for rob & stone-

i'm having fun!

[lambmotifz]

thinking about how dean’s monstrosity is about enjoying violence and torturing people (mostly men) & sam’s monstrosity is about being inherently unclean and his body being used as a tool for use and abuse by others

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sequel to this ramble cause the way james talks bout the reduced cherik scenes throughout the xmen films in this video is making me want to kill people. 'we'll always have paris darling' what if we all blew up.

[absoluteocellibehavior]

*pulls up a chair*

*sits cutely*

Did you miss me?

Wow, ok. Where do I even begin?! Let's start with Kayne and The Tower itself. You may think that pulling cards like The Devil or Death are gonna be the ones that you're worried about but no. You got a Tower in your reading? Buckle up. The Tower is characterized with massive change, upheaval, and chaos. I honestly could not think of anything more fitting for our "Crawling Chaos." It is a change that affects you on all levels: physically, mentally, and spiritually. A massive, unexpected change that knocks down that stable structure built on unstable grounds. The Tower is also characterized with divine intervention that causes this massive change for your greater good. Well, the greater good is not the case with Kayne but he is certainly divinely intervening. He's got a hand in everything. Playing chess while everyone is playing checkers. He knows exactly how to get the people that he needs in the spots that he needs them without them questioning it. Look at those strings he's got on our little boys down at the bottom!

Going back to what I said about the shaky foundation. John and Arthur are the tower itself in this case. They have built this structure out of necessity. They are bonded to one another. So, their relationship has to be built up with one another. However, with the amount of lies and things kept from one another, this "stable structure" is liable to cracks. Just think about the amount of divorces we joke about. Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. However, any of the massive things that have broken down their relationship back to the roots have been, for the most part, caused by Kayne. For example, Arthur's deal with Kayne causes Arthur to have to start from square one (no matter how unsuccessfully) with Yellow. John's deal with Kayne leads to John having to lie and manipulate Arthur into getting him to New York to the Grey Stone which culminates to another shattering of their relationship. However, after each of these events, Arthur and John have had to build their trust and bond with one another again. Arguably, I would say it gets stronger every time especially with how they are with one another in Season Five. Yet this cycle of destruction and renewal has Kayne looming over it and we truly can't be certain when Kayne's going to knock them down again.

OTHER CUTESY DETAILS <3 First of all, hello Chakra symbolism! We got two going here! The Crown Chakra is represent by the, well, crown lookin thing behind Kayne's head. This is actually something that shows up in the Rider-Waite tarot deck symbolizing energy coming down through the most divine part of yourself. This is just even more fun symbolism of Kayne's hand and intervention in everything. Down at the bottom between the boys, you've got the opposite: The Root Chakra. This is your grounding chakra. Your earthy chakra. A humanly connected one as opposed to the divine we previously spoke of. A major theme in Malevolent is what it means to be human. Both Arthur and John are painfully human, representing "humanity in all its forms" (borrowing a line from the most recent chapter). Over the course of the parts, you have Arthur and John changing and growing into themselves, choosing when to change or staying stubborn in certain areas. All of these choices symbolizing the essence of the human experience. They learn from one another. This leads into the next fun detail. John and Arthur are in the position of "The Creation of Adam", except your expected roles are reversed. John is Adam and Arthur is God. However, it makes sense in this case. Rather than Adam becoming close to the divine through a tainting of a relationship with God and partaking in the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, you have John becoming closer to humanity through his experiences in his bonding to Arthur (not all due to Arthur, mind you). And this little outreaching of hands is happening -- you guessed it -- in front of the Root Chakra.

Last little fun detail. If you don't know, Nyarlathotep in the OG Lovecraft lore often shown as an Egyptian pharaoh. So, we get some of that symbolism with Kayne here with little Eye of Horus designs on his clothing which was tied to the belief of the gods ruling over humankind. This is the left eye but we see Kayne looking out of his RIGHT eye leaning towards the Eye of Ra instead. The Eye of Ra is said to be able to see anything. Which is painfully ironic for Kayne because is this nearly the case except for that pesky little Black Stone, huh?! Fun details <3

XVI The Tower

Who’d want to be human anyway? Who pilots all these crude machines?

[da-janela-lateral]

And You and I

[spacedlexi]

the way the ericson group were at the outbreak just a bunch of troubled kids who made various mistakes or committed crimes and were judged by a system that punished and abandoned them instead of giving them the support and love they needed, are then nearly a decade later put into a situation where now they must judge a troubled child for the mistakes and crimes hes committed against them. and 5 to 3 vote them out 😭

[in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene]

I do think Withers has a really subtle background character arc in bg3. Because at the start it is really clear he doesn't want to be here and he's being forced to clean up his mess by Helm and probably Ao. He doesn't really care either. Everything ends so nothing really matters, he'd like to go back to his paperwork now please.

Except he's stuck babysitting a bunch of traumatized dumbasses as they stumble into dealing with the most recent bad idea of his three fuck-up disappointments. So he brings them back when they die for a pittance, lets them pay for some vengeful ghosts to come back as flesh and blood to wreak bloody vengeance on the Absolute, and starts to... comment, on what's going on, as he follows them on their adventure.

Next thing you know Withers is like, doing things unprompted. He refuses to bring back Alfira (or Quil) but that's an act of compassion, keeping the poor girl from the Urge and letting her rest, his actual duty as a god of death. He tells Arabella to follow her destiny and does that thing to make her grief go away which honestly freaks me out but seems to be him trying to help her. He shows up at Moonrise and prompts us to consider why the Dead Three would want a bunch of soulless illithids that would give them no power, getting us to think of the big picture.

And by the end (especially if you do a resist!Durge playthrough) Withers is actively interfering and seems genuinely invested! He brings Durge back from the dead, free of their father! He encourages us before the final fight with the Netherbrain! He's real fucking smug that the Dead Three lost when he never seemed to care about the destruction they caused before! He throws a reunion party and many of his lines are genuinely touching or kind! Especially if a companion died permanently! He has tea with Gale's mom and Tara! He's like, socializing and shit! Yes, everything is temporary and we all die, but there's great beauty in fighting for that precious time and living it to the fullest!

Basically Wither's character arc is this meme, all because Helm made him go outside and touch grass.

[softness-and-shattering]

I was writing tags but I think it deserves main post.

Something I know multiple people to do is get a pet so that you have a life relying on you. You cant do it today because who will feed the cat tomorrow?

And as a bonus, looking after an animal really helps you have compassion and look after yourself. Ive experienced this personally*.

Animals, especially cuddly ones are also super therapeutic. Just holding or touching a warm living creature is really powerful, especially but not exclusively if youre lonely or touch starved. Its comforting. You feel less alone. Theyre affectionate towards you, and that makes you think there must be something about you worth loving because theres a cat climbing on you and purring. It doesnt know about human troubles and self esteem and reputation and work. It knows you are person. You feed it. It sees you every day. It loves you. Youre lovable. Youre worthy of love. This weird creature says so.

This isnt necessarily the right advice for everyone so do think about it; eg dont get a dog if you cant consistently leave the house to walk them. Cats do better indoors, and they need more than just food water and litter change. Brushing, love, play, vet visits etc. I dont know anout keeping fish but that might be easier. You could also try a plant. Its surprising how effecting it is to have a living being with you, even if its just a tiny succulent in a pot that doesnt ever move. Its still alive and thats powerful. If youre keeping it alive thats also an incredible feeling. One time when I was living alone and isolating myself, a friend left me a little succulent at the door when I said I wasnt up for actually interacting. And it made a really significant difference which was so surprising to me, its so small! But its *alive*.

*I once had a psych ask if Id ever had a pet, I said no, he said ok so try imagine. The same way you love a pet unconditionally no matter what it does, try feel that way about yourself. I did not viscerally understand what he meant till I got a cat, who could be a mischievous stinky slippery little shit, and I loved him with all my heart no matter how upset I also was at him. This wasnt something I had experienced before.

Another time Id moved somewhere new and I was talking to my cat about how it must be scary for him, in a new place with new sights and sounds and smells. And then I realised, hey, *Im* in a new place with new sights and sounds AND smells, and its ok if I feel a bit wobbly about it. We can be a bit wobbly and comfort each other together.

Seriously, having a Little Guy follow you around and love you is the best. Pet ownership is one of my best life decisions.

So there is a lot of bad stuff going on right now, and I'm sure there are lots of people feeling hopeless and thinking of suicide. Well, I've been suicidal for 21 years and I have a few practical pieces of advice for surviving that I rarely see in other places but I think have done more to keep me off the ledge than almost anything.

1. Don't feel guilty for wanting to kill yourself. Life can be extremely painful, and you are not weak, a coward, or irrational for considering the obvious way to alleviate that pain. Guilt on top of the rest of your pain will not help, and you are not a bad person. You are going to have to tell yourself this a lot.

2. If you think you might do it, find an excuse to live. This is different from a reason to live in that it is short term and shallow. For years my excuse was that I still had enough money to buy a pizza and I'd be damned if I didn't get my last pizza before I died, and if i still wanted to kill myself after the pizza then I had lost nothing. I swear this kept me alive through some of the hardest years of my life.

3. If you have an online friend you can trust, ask if they would be willing to do check in duty occasionally on your worst nights. It's very simple, on bad days where hurting yourself is a real possibility, ask your friend if they can send you a message at regular intervals, say 15 or 20 minutes, confirming that you are safe. It can be as simple as "check?", with you responding "I'm ok". Being immediately held accountable makes not doing it so much easier. I asked a friend to help me like this about two weeks ago to deal with a really bad self harm day and the difference between trying to do it on your own and simple check ins is astounding. It hurts so much less.

4. You die with nothing left on the table. This is for when it's over and you are going to kill yourself. You have a plan, you are ready, and you want to. At this point you are effectively dead. Which means there are no consequences. You can finally do the thing that you were always too scared to do. Maybe it's quitting your job, or confessing to your crush. For me it was coming out as trans. This is your last ditch effort, so if it blows up in your face and ruins everything it is no loss because your plan will still work tomorrow. You were already dead anyway, who cares if you left behind a bit more chaos.