#'these are well documented measurable effects!'

[tokoyamisstuff]

Doc thought it was a great idea to give someone insulin to lower his potassium (side effect).

He forgot that it also lowers the blood sugar (main effect).

😭😭😭

[reasonsforhope]

"The Hague made international headlines for being the first city in the world to approve legislation prohibiting marketing of fossil fuel-related products and services. This major ruling, issued earlier this month, seeks to limit the promotion of items with a high carbon footprint, such as gasoline, diesel, aviation, and cruise ships. The ban, which goes into effect at the start of next year, will affect both government and privately funded advertisements, including those on billboards and bus shelters throughout the Dutch metropolis.

This groundbreaking legislation establishes an important precedent in the global fight against climate change. Other cities have attempted to limit the reach of high-carbon items through council ordinances or voluntary agreements with advertising operators, but The Hague’s prohibition is the first that is legally binding. It is a major step forward for cities around the world that want to reduce carbon emissions and combat climate change head-on.

A response to global calls for action

The prohibition comes after UN Secretary-General António Guterres called earlier this year for countries and media outlets to take tougher action to combat fossil fuel advertising, citing parallels with existing tobacco advertising bans. Guterres stressed that, as with the tobacco industry in the past, fossil fuel businesses are contributing to a worldwide public health crisis—in this case, climate change. Governments can help change public behavior and prevent the normalization of high-carbon lifestyles by limiting their capacity to market.

Several cities have already made tiny moves in this direction. Edinburgh, for example, approved a council vote in May prohibiting fossil fuel-related ads in city-owned venues. The Scottish capital also prohibits enterprises that sell these products from sponsoring events or developing partnerships. However, unlike The Hague’s legislation, Edinburgh’s ban is voluntary and only applies to council spaces.

A legally binding first

The Hague’s new law is significant since it is legally binding. The restriction affects not only specific items, such as gasoline, diesel, and fossil fuel-powered vehicles but also businesses such as aviation and cruise ships. However, the rule exempts fossil fuel firms’ political advertising or efforts supporting a generic brand, allowing these businesses to keep prominence...

The impact of advertising on behavior

Advertising’s impact on consumer behavior is well-documented, and many experts say that fossil fuel marketing undercut climate legislation by encouraging unsustainable behavior. Thijs Bouman, an associate professor of environmental psychology at Rijksuniversiteit Groningen, stated that “fossil fuel advertising normalizes the use of high-carbon products and services, making it more difficult to change consumer habits.” ...

Catalyzing change worldwide

The Hague’s move may have repercussions beyond its borders, spurring similar actions in other cities around the globe. Cities such as Toronto, Canada, and Graz, Austria, are already launching campaigns to outlaw advertising for fossil fuels. In the Netherlands, both Amsterdam and Haarlem have outlawed marketing for climate-damaging products like beef, but these measures have yet to become legislation.

Sleegers believes that The Hague’s move will act as a spur for other towns to follow suit. “More cities have a wish to implement the fossil ad ban through ordinance, but they were all waiting for some other city to go first. The Hague is this city,” she said, predicting that more local governments will now feel empowered to act...

As the world grapples with the rising costs of climate change, The Hague’s pioneering move provides a potential model for other cities looking to minimize their carbon footprints. With cities like Toronto and Amsterdam keeping a careful eye on things, this legislation has the potential to start a global campaign to prohibit fossil fuel advertising. 

More cities may follow suit in the coming years, hastening the transition to a more environmentally friendly and sustainable future."

-via The Optimist Daily, September 26, 2024

[shootingstarwritings]

A Single Kiss with Matching Singlets

part 2/2

Coach Reynolds was an older man and head of the wrestling team. Standing tall and clearly proud of the team he had led to victory year after year, he intimidated most of the other coaches throughout the state. He was stern and assertive on the wrestling mat, yet patient and forthcoming in his office. Many former members of the wrestling team described him as having an ‘uncle-like’ air. Not quite immediate family, but trustworthy nonetheless. At least, that’s what Kyle gathered about the man.

Appearance-wise, he was an older, bearded, and hairy man with years of experience. He was the former champion during his days in university, and he reminded the team of that at the start of every new semester. Though the coach had grown a slight gut as he aged, not a soul doubted the muscles one could gain only through years of dutiful devotion to the sport. Perhaps he wore such tight shirts and jackets to accent the body he was so prideful of.

“It’s rare to see you so talkative,” the coach said, not looking up from the documents he was filling out. He sat by his deck with a pair of rarely-seen reading glasses.

All I said was, “Can we meet in your office after practice? I wish to talk about something personal.” Just how little does Zack even speak?’ The more time spent in Zack’s body, the less Kyle understood about him.

“So,” began Coach Reynolds. He removed his glasses with a swift and practiced flick of his wrist and set them down on the table. Smiling with the warmth that someone who was a father to his students, he asked, “What can I help you with? Come to think of it, this is probably the first time you wanted to talk to me like this. What brought this on?”

“Well, um…” How was he supposed to react? It wasn’t easy, staring at the man who was essentially his romantic rival. At first, Kyle went through a barrage of excuses to distract the coach, but he found it difficult to come up with a lie as he stared at the coach’s genuine and questioning eyes. How Kyle wished that the coach had Namba’s shaggy hair to cut off the eye-contact.

Lowering his gaze, Kyle’s eyes locked onto the golden band that Coach Reynolds always wore proudly wore to work. Kyle knew the story. They had split a few years ago, but Coach Reynolds still wore that wedding ring. Whether it was loyalty or denial, he wasn't certain. “I wish to talk… a-about love.”

Chuckling, Coach Reynolds relaxed and shifted back into his seat. “Love, huh?” he said with a playful smirk. Kyle could tell that the coach had been waiting for someone to ask him about that. “Well, this ol’ dog could certainly teach ya some new tricks. Have a seat, let’s hear you out.”

“There’s someone I love, but they clearly love someone else…” Kyle began like that, and then continued. On occasion, he would accidentally slip and say, “he,” while speaking, but aside from a curious eyebrow raise, the coach didn’t interrupt. Was it another of Zack’s quirks that influenced Kyle, or was Kyle simply waiting for someone with coach’s demeanor to influence him? Whatever it was, it certainly seemed to help get his mouth moving and his lips flapping.

Still, Kyle felt himself able to speak freely. Calmly. Not only that, but he felt… heard. Namba would sometimes tease or cut in to talk about his own opinion, but coach’s gentle prodding and listening was far more effective. “And… and that is all,” finished Kyle.

“Well, that’s certainly the intense revelation you gave, Zack,” the coach said, each word carefully measured. “But! That doesn’t mean I don’t have any advice to give you. Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing for you.” He stood up and wandered over to his desk, giving a great view of his ass hugged by those gray sweatpants he always loved to wear.

Kyle definitely preferred Zack, but he couldn’t deny just how hot the coach was. He had seen the man sweating it out in the gym when he wasn’t coaching the players—and he loved seeing the coach drench his clothes with sweat. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder how the coach smelled. As Coach Reynolds stood up and walked over to his file cabinet—just what was he searching for?—Kyle silently stood up and made his move.

“Sorry, coach,” said Kyle with Zack’s voice as he wrapped both muscular arms around the coach’s meaty frame. As Coach Reynolds began to panic, Kyle leaned into his ear and whispered, “I do think you’re a great man, for all that’s worth,” and made his move. Exiting through Zack’s trembling torso, Kyle forced his spiritual essence to phase through the coach’s back and into his core.

Like a puppet cut from its strings, Zack fell on the ground, unconscious after over a day of not being in control.

Coach Reynolds, on the other hand, remained standing and trembling as he felt a student’s essence overpowering his own. “N-No, get outta… nrgh…! Outta me!” Coach Reynolds reached out for the door, but his legs were already under Kyle’s control. Then, his own arms betrayed him as they gracefully shed off his sweatpants, shaking his hips the whole time. “The fuck…?” was all he managed to say as his cock, bulging beneath his used jockstrap, flew at high mast and began to leak precum. His bare ass shivered as a breeze blew through the office.

Coach Reynolds struggled and moaned as he tried to reclaim control over his body, but it was too late as Kyle grabbed his shirt and windbreaker and tossed them off. Clad in just a leaky jockstrap, Kyle explored the coach’s wonderful body in the privacy of his new office. Zack continued to sleep, even as Kyle let out a roar of pure ecstasy and blew his first load all over the office, some drops even landing on Zack’s open and drooling mouth.

“I can see why you think this hunky piece of ass is your ideal man,” Kyle said, smirking as he flexed and kissed Coach Reynold’s bulging biceps. “I’ll have a bit of fun with him before asking you out on our little date.”

~o~

Sitting down on the booth of a burger joint, Tim scrolled mindlessly through a phone that wasn’t his until the burly Coach Reynolds sat down in front of him. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite coach,” he said, putting his phone down and resting his chin on his hand, smirking. “How’s the body feeling?” He took a quick whiff and chuckled. “Already beat one out or two?”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “How did you now? You got some kinda bloodhound nose or something?”

“Nah, but Tim’s got a sharp sense of smell. Probably cuz he doesn’t wanna get glasses.” Namba shrugged. “Already ordered for ya, by the way. Asked for the, urgh, the bacon triple burger," Namba's borrowed nose wrinkled as he said that.

“Oh, thank god. Dunno why, but Coach Reynolds’ body is constantly craving meat. Was about to go insane with hunger once I was done with a quick workout and jerk-off session. I haven’t had a single fruit or veggie all day. Not even a snack. Just craving meat, meat, meat.”

Namba chuckled. “A strong soul like the coach’s will naturally force more of his personality onto you.” Grinning lewdly, Namba lifted up his shirt and rubbed Tim’s toned and distinctly hairier core. “You have to tame these hosts we’re using. Usually, you gotta force them to submit, my friend.”

“Submit?” Kyle tilted his head. He had thought that jerking off was enough to wrangle coach’s soul. At the very least, shouldn’t the possession itself be enough to force someone’s soul to submit?

When Kyle asked that, Namba wagged his finger, letting Tim’s shirt fall and regaining some semblance of modesty. “No, no. This is why you’re to remain a novice without someone like me to teach you the ropes, kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that when I’m in this body,” said Kyle, lowering his voice. “People’ll give us weird looks.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I put up a few precautions before you arrived.” As if to illustrated his point, Namba climbed up the table and lied on top of it before peeling off Tim’s cargo shorts and throwing off the shirt in just a few quick motions.

Kyle looked around, but nobody came to protest. Not even any of the staff. In fact, looking over at the staff on the counter, none of them were moving. Not even blinking. “What…?”

“Time bubble. Advanced stuff,” said Namba in between moans as he started to touch and pleasure himself. Tim’s boxers-briefs were still on, but didn’t seem to care. He still caressed and licked every bit of Tim’s body he could reach, occasionally rubbing the cock beneath the fabric as a dark spot began to form. “In public places like these are a great way to tame unruly hosts, y’know. How about we make sure that our host bodies enjoy the remainder of our three days?”

Kyle stared at the scene before him, hunger temporarily forgotten. Already, he could feel the testosterone in Coach Reynolds’ body working overtime as he beheld Tim’s naked and tempting body. “I-I… sure. Sure, let’s do it.”

“Well?” Namba spread Tim’s legs, his feet hanging off the booth’s table. “What’re you gonna do to me, coach?” he asked with a playful sincerity. “I thought we were just gonna eat together?”

“Oh, I’m about to devour the snack before me, all right,” said Kyle as he stripped himself, having already had plenty of practice with it. Coach Reynolds’ used jockstrap was the last thing he took off, and he twirled it on his fingers and a few times while playfully slapping Tim’s hole with his erect cock.

“O-Oh, now that’s a keeper…” said Namba, his expression, while still smug, growing a bit concerned. “A-Are you sure that’s gonna fit inside of me, my friend? T-Tim’s not exactly used to stuff up his ass.”

Kyle leaned in, chest resting against Tim’s own, and he said, “I’ll stretch it out real nice for ya, kid. Once I’m through with ya, you’ll be able to fit a whole cucumber inside.”

A tiny dribble of precum launched from Tim’s cock and landed on his stomach. Namba gulped and said, “Go for it.”

Kyle went was slow at first, just to make sure Coach Reynolds’ cock didn’t hurt too badly. Whenever Namba would groan in pain, Kyle would caress his cheek or give him a calming kiss as he pounded Namba’s ass.

“Ngh…! Oh, f-fuck…!” said Namba, writhing in Tim’s body as Kyle thrust in and out Tim’s tight ass. The table creaked and moaned from the sheer force that Kyle was using in the coach’s body. “F-Fuck me harder, c-c’mon!” Namba shouted, his eyes fluttering from the sheer pleasure and strength Coach Reynolds used. “We-We’re really doing this in public? Ohhh, you’re such a pervert, coach! Wh-What if someone walks in?”

Kyle forced the coach’s body to grin. “What’s wrong, Tim? ‘fraid that someone’s gonna see how much of a slut you are?” he said, punctuating ‘slut’ with a particularly deep thrust. Another strong shot of precum launched out of Tim’s cock. Namba reached down to jerk himself off, but Kyle slapped his hand away. “Oh don’t worry, boy. I’ll make ya cum hands-free!”

He lifted up both of Tim’s legs and slung them over his shoulders. With every thrust, he would pull him by the ankles to get just a tiny bit more leverage. Namba seemed to be enjoying it, as his hands gripped the sides of the trembling table until his knuckles were white.

Inside, however, was a different story. “N-No, not in public,” the voice of Coach Reynolds said inside of him. Kyle nearly stopped, but he was far too horny and far too deep inside of his new fucktoy. “G-Get out of me. This is my body!” There was a bit of pressure from inside of Coach Reynolds’ body, but Kyle didn’t mind.

“You’re mine,” Kyle found himself saying, flexing on his arms and enjoy the rippling muscles as he posed and increased the speed of his thrusts into Namba, who looked like he was about to fall unconscious. “This is my fucking body, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it! I’m a fucking stud of a man that does nothing but breed young men, and that’s the truth of it! This is who I am!”

“Yes, coach! It’s who you are!” Namba joined in, staring up in the ceiling as his mind continued to experience unbelievable pleasure. “Ohhh, breed me! Breed this hairy hole I got just for you.”

“I’m gonna breed ya and mark ya. Fuck, fuck…! I’m, I’m gonna—WOAAAAHH!” Kyle let out a cry as his climax reached its peak, and he blew his load and coated all of Tim’s inside with the coach’s thick cum.

“Holy fuck, coach!” Namba cried out as his own cock, still untouched, shot its own load. Most landed on his borrowed chest, but a few shot far enough to land on his face.

Coach Reynolds’ voice became softer and more quiet as Kyle continued to dominate his body. “I-I’m… This is your body. Use it as you like...” Coach Reynolds’ voice said before finally becoming silent.

So… I tamed him. But what does that even mean? And, is it bad that I want more? thought Kyle.

“Mm… tasty,” said Namba, knocking Kyle out of his thoughts. He reached down and scooped up some of the cum with a finger and licked it. “Tim never gets any less tasty. Though I think it’s my essence making him so delicious.” Chuckling, he lied back, head resting on his hands and hole overflowing with cum. “Drink up this sight, my friend. This is what we get with magic. See how rewarding this is?”

Kyle nodded, thoroughly exhausted. He sat down on one of the booth seats, rubbing his sore thighs. “That was… amazing!”

“Amazing and so much more, my friend,” said Namba. “So, what will you do now? Visit Michael or…?”

Nodding, Kyle said, “Yeah, that was the plan. But, honestly…” he hesitate before finally saying, “I was thinking… what if I stayed in coach’s body? What if I made this permanent?” It had only been a day and a few sexual experiences, but the urge to never leave was slowly becoming more and more attractive to Kyle. “Is that even possible?”

Namba cocked an eyebrow, his smile disappearing. “Yeah, but… you sure this is the body you want? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad body and all, but this is a big decision. And…” he let out a thoughtful hum, tapping his fingers on the table. “I can make it for sure, but not yet. Probably not until the semester’s mostly over. Until then,” he grinned and ruffled Coach Reynolds’ short hair, “I’ll keep cooking up some of that concoction for the two of us. Build that little relationship with Michael while I research for a way to make this sorta thing permanent. And, prepare yourself. You’ll be leaving your life behind.”

“And you? Are you gonna take over someone permanently? Like Tim?”

Namba shook his head. “I wanna take over someone hot and rich. Tim’s just a nice ride to chill out in for a few days.” He flexed Tim’s much lither body and ran his hands down his torso. “In the meantime, we gotta finish up our lease and this semester, my friend.” Namba looked down at his watch. “You got one more day until my next concoction, what’ll you do?”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to grin. “Whaddaya think? I’m gonna win over my new love."

~o~

Walking around in Coach Reynolds’ body felt like a reward of its own, so Kyle elected to do that to head back to his office. Zack was long-gone, believing he had just passed out while coach asked him to stay behind for a brief talk. With the office clear and most classes done for the day, Kyle sent an email to Michael asking him to meet up to discuss the team’s future as well as discussion regarding the next captain.

As he walked back, Kyle thought back to what Namba had explained. Their hosts wouldn’t remember exactly what happened while being possessed, but their experiences would leave little marks on their souls. It wouldn’t be anything significant without repeated possessions and behavior adjustments, but it had its merit. “It’ll make it a lot easier for us to take them over. Though I’ll probably hop inside someone else,” Namba had told him. “But you can even influence their behavior even while you’re not inside.”

I could probably get coach to keep seducing Michael while I’m not inside of him, thought Kyle, a spring in the coach’s step. Then, once I take over coach forever, I’ll already be in a relationship with Kyle. It seemed so perfect that Kyle had little belief it would ever fail. With that, he soon arrived.

Michael was seated on a bench right outside the office, but brightened up once he noticed Kyle approaching. “Oh, hey coach!” he greeted with a radiant smile that Kyle knew would soon enough be reserved only for him. “Dunno how of much my experience is gonna mean much, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

With a hearty, almost fatherly, chuckle, Kyle patted Michael on the back and assured him that, “You’re far more helpful and valuable than you think, Michael.” Slowly, he allowed his hand to slide just a bit further down before pulling back. “C’mon, we’ve got a lot to talk about.” The rest of the visit was full of small touches and mild flirting and winks. Michael would flush at most of Kyle’s light advances, but didn’t shy away from it.

Throughout the next few weeks, Kyle would use the coach’s body to tease, caress, and flirt with Michael, who subtly invited them in. Towards the end of the semester, during the final of their little meetings, Michael said, “Are you flirting with me, coach…?” There was a longing tone in his voice as he looked up at Coach Reynolds’. He was hesitant, nervous, embarrassed, and hopeful.

Just how long had Kyle waited for Michael to see him like that? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that, at least, that time was at an end. With Coach Reynolds’ thick fingers, he gently guided Michael’s chin for a passionate, sensual kiss. Kyle’s borrowed tongue guided Michael’s more inexperienced one, and the two soon collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs. “I’ve waited so long for this day,” said Michael, unknowingly voicing both of their thoughts.

~o~

The day arrived. Namba served two bowls with a concoction that somehow smelled like lilacs this time. After agreeing to keep in touch, the two went their separate ways—towards their new lives. Namba went to his rich uncle’s company while Kyle paid one last visit to Coach Reynolds’ office.

Brimming with confidence, he knocked on the door and shouted, “Coach, daddy’s home!” without a hint of shame. So much had happened this semester, and now he was ready to finally embrace the future as someone new.

Coach Reynolds opened the door with dread on his face. “G-Get away from me,” he managed to utter, even as he allowed Kyle to strut inside. He shut the door and began to strip his clothes. It made the possession much easier. “H-How are you doing this…? What is happening to me?” Just speaking with his own will seemed to be a challenge for him, let alone resisting the power of Namba’s concoction.

Kyle walked over and planted a kiss on the coach’s neck. “This is your destiny, coach. This is how your story ends,” he said, placing two of his hands on both of coach’s pecs. His hands began sinking into his body as though Coach Reynolds was nothing but a pool of water. He let out a low groan, trembling. “And this is how our story begins.”

Pushing Coach Reynolds against the wall, Kyle slowly forced his way inside of his future and permanent body. “N-No! Get outta me, kid! D-Don’t do this!” Coach Reynolds clutched his head with both hands, almost ripping off his hair as he felt Kyle’s consciousness and memories swallowing his own. It was as if he was being consumed from the inside out. “You’re g-gonna kill me… I’m disappearing… N-No, please stop…!”

“You won’t die,” said Kyle. By now, most of his body was inside of the coach. All that was left was the top part of his torso and his head that awkwardly hung from coach's burly chest. “We’re becoming one, coach. Isn’t it great? You can feel it, right? How pleasurable this is for us? For me?”

Coach Reynolds grit his teeth, but soon his arms fell limp by his sides. “Y-Yes… this is hot for me,” he admitted, both ashamed and aroused as Kyle’s essence began to bind with his own. As two souls became one, Coach Reynolds became convinced that he was Kyle, that he was another half that was returning home and becoming whole. “Keep it up,” he moaned, thrusting in the air as Kyle fully dove into his body. “Ahhh! Oh, fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Coach Reynolds slid down the wall and fell to his knees, his whole body trembling as a merging of souls occurred inside. Memories of pleasure, pain, madness, and ecstasy all blended together into a cocktail of euphoria until, “HOLY FUCK!” The new Coach Reynolds let out a guttural roar of pleasure as he achieved the most intense orgasm of his life—and the very first of his new life. Streams of cock shot high into the air. One, two, more and more until he lost count. He came his entire load until he was shooting blanks, hips still thrusting into the empty air until he just collapsed on his side, entire body alight with a pleasurable soreness.

There was no need to explore his new body, Coach Reynolds was already accustomed to it after half a semester of taking it over. He just stood up on shaky legs and stretched. Kyle was gone, but he wasn’t at the same time. A new being was born, but he still carried the name Coach Reynolds. The old coach wasn’t gone, either, but it was mainly the one who used to be Kyle in control. The new Coach Reynolds put his clothes back on and checked his phone.

One message from Michael, asking the coach when their first official date would be. Coach Reynolds smiled and gleefully began his brand new relationship to celebrate his brand new life.

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Coriolanus Snow might be a heartless monster, but he'll always be yours. You'll always be his obsession. And that was one thing that Dr. Gaul underestimated her protege about: his obsession with you.

Masterlist here

Heartless Pt. 2

Coriolanus always thought that if he ever laid eyes on you again that he'd kill you. Wrap his hands around your neck, squeeze, and watch your life force drain out of you. He always thought that he'd look deep into your eyes until they glazed over with the death that he brought you.

But Coriolanus never thought that when he saw you again that he'd be keeping vigil at your bedside, watching your ashen form weak and in an endless sleep, while rocking your- his newborn son in his arms.

A son that he only found out about when your older brother called him up, frantic.

That call changed everything. It replayed in his mind on an endless loop as he stared at you, hopelessly willing you to open your eyes.

Coriolanus was sitting in his office in the lab. He finally got promoted from intern to assistant. Coriolanus was right underneath Dr.Gaul; he was proud of how quickly he was promoted.

7 months of hard work had paid off. He now had power, authorization to top secret projects and documents, and a large say so when it came to gamemaker duties. His work was very important to him; he had the steel spine that it took to make the hard decisions that some other game make s and interns turned green about.

Coriolanus Snow was rewarded because he was a heartless monster that did anything to get the result that he needed. That he wanted. He would do anything to see the games remain a success, even if that meant proposing some measures that would make the game a total spectucal.

Dr. Gaul approved of all of his ideas and suggestions. And the one that she pushed for, well he approved of and pressured the other low level gamemakers into approving it too.

It was genius, his mentor’s idea.

Having all children born on District Peacekeeper Bases be registered as a district citizen belong to the district of their birth instead of being granted automatic Capitol citizenship would ensure that their was a larger participation pool for the games; it also prevented too many officers from muddying their Capitol blood with that of district scum.

Coriolanus was looking over a chart for a mutt experiment whenever his private office phone started to ring.

Ring, ring ring…Ring, ring, ring…Ring, ring, ring…

Oh no, was Grandma'am’s memory worsening? Was she giving Ma Plinth a hard time? God, he hopes not.

Ring, ring, ring…

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a deep sigh before picking up the phone. “Assistant Gamemaker, Coriolanus Snow. Whom may I be speaking with?”

“Snow, it’s Officer Rein Halvir, Y/N’s older brother. I'm calling because I need you to get to the base in District 12 right away. Y/N’s been in labor for nearly 36 hours, the doctor won't do a cesarean because Dr. Gaul put into effect a new policy that surgical resources can only be used for peacekeepers and not any civilians living on base, and it's not looking good, Coriolanus.”

“What?...” Was all Coriolanus could say. He was stunned. You could possibly be dying in childbirth? With a child he didn't know about? And on a district base.

On a district base.

Oh no! Not that!

“She was afraid to tell you, Snow. You had her terrified with the stalking: nonstop roses and jewelry. Our mother sent her to stay with me. Once it was announced that children born on district bases would be district citizens and eligible for the games, I tried to get her to go back to the Capitol, but mother refused to let her come back. I even told Y/N to call you; try to work things out with you, but she refused. Said that you never loved her; wouldn't care what happened to her or the baby.”

“I’ll talk to Dr. Gaul about approving a cesarean for Y/N right away.” Coriolanus told Rein as his dead heart started to bleed.

“Thank you, Snow.” Rein replied, a hint of gratefulness in his normally stern tone. “Will you be coming to the base? To see-” your brother began to ask, only for your ex to cut him off with, “I’ll be there, but only because I don't want my child raised in such a filthy, mud hole of a district as 12.”

Coriolanus didn't say another word. Just hung up his phone.

Machines beeped, monitoring you as you slept. Coriolanus felt that you looked dead, not asleep. He was so angry. You weren't supposed to be unconscious in your bed. You were supposed to be up, sitting in bed, holding your baby. You were supposed to scream and cry at him when he walked into your room. You weren't supposed to be just lying there, hanging in-between life and death.

Not when he had faxed the paperwork with Dr. Gaul's signature for the approval of your emergency cesarean.

You were supposed to be okay. You and the baby both. Not just the baby.

As Coriolanus watched you, waiting for a sign of life, he got lost in the recent memory of when he first saw you again.

When Coriolanus got off the train at the District 12 depot, he thought your brother would be there to greet him, but he was wrong. Instead, he had to make his own way to the District 12 base. Thank God he knew where it was, from his short stint as a peacekeeper, otherwise he'd be lost.

The walk to the base was long and grueling. He’d forgotten how far off the base was from the train depot. From the main part of the district itself.

Once he reached the on base hospital, he inquired about your whereabouts and was told where to find you. When he walked into your room, he was expecting you to be tired, but conscious. He even thought you'd be holding or nursing the baby.

Coriolanus never thought he'd walk into your room only to see you hooked up to a machine with your brother’s girlfriend (some district trash he picked up at the hob) by your side. A baby bassinet between your bed and her chair.

She introduced herself as Ashlie (didn't give a surname, not like he cared) and gestured to the bassinet, only to tell him, “That's your son, Cassian Xandros.”

Cassian Xandros.

A name befitting a Snow heir.

“You may go now. I'll watch over her.” Coriolanus told the skinny girl, who looked to be from the Seam. He didn't even bother to introduce himself. He just wanted her to go so he could- hell he didn't know, he guessed sit by your bedside until you woke up, but he didn't want some district whore watching him as he sat by your bedside with your son.

His son.

Cassian Xandros.

Ashlie nodded, a pitiful look in her eyes. She felt bad for both you and Coriolanus, but was too afraid to voice her opinion. The Seam girl just scurried out of the room, leaving Coriolanus alone with you and your son.

She didn't know much about what happened between the two of you, just what Rein told her. And your brother didn't share much since he only knew the handful of facts that you shared with him.

What both Rein and Ashlie knew for certain was that your son with his pure Capitol blood and fine Snow linage was doomed for a chance to fight for his life in the infamous death battle royale known as the Hunger Games all because he was born on Peacekeeper Base-12.

Her heart broke for you, Coriolanus, and your son because no matter if you lived or died, well the platinum blonde father would never be able to bring his son home to the Capitol with him. District born citizens of Panem were forbidden to travel outside of their district of birth unless it was to be delivered to the Capitol as a tribute for the annual Hunger Games. Due to the new rules and laws put into place regarding children born on bases being registered at birth as a citizen of the district of the base, your son was forbidden to leave District 12.

If you die, well, Coriolanus will have to give Cassian Xandros up to Rein (and Ashlie) to raise. That subject’s the reason why your brother’s avoiding Snow.

Once your brother's girlfriend had left, Coriolanus sat down in the chair she had once been occupying. He sadly sighed as he took in your condition.

When his eyes landed on his son, he felt pride well up in his chest. The boy, Cassian Xandros, had his natural platinum blonde hair.

He looked just like him.

Was his little mini me.

He gently picked up his baby boy and cradled him to his chest. When Cassian began to stir Coriolanus rocked him. “Don't worry, son, I got rid of the evil lady that tried to take you and your mother away from me.”

Cassian blinked his eyes open, revealing them to be blue. Coriolanus smiled at his son, seeing that he had striking blue eyes, and told his son, “You're mine and your mother's mine. Nobody ever takes what's mine and gets away with it.”

The baby just blinked at his father, not understanding anything he was saying since, after all, he was just a newborn, and then scrunched his nose. He then closed his eyes and went to sleep in his father's arms.

His father's murderous, monstrous arms.

When your eyes fluttered open, Coriolanus felt a sense of relief he didn't know possible. After not knowing if you'd ever wake up, seeing your beautiful eyes again was like heaven.

And to think that he had once vowed to kill you if he ever crossed your path again. But that was when he thought you gave up on him.

No, things changed when he realized that you were trying to protect the Snow heir because you felt unsafe after that package you recieved.

That damn package Dr. Gaul, his mentor, had sent you. A tape with a letter persuading you that he was incapable of loving you.

A letter he didn't know about until Dr. Gaul let it slip when he approached her about signing off on your emergency cesarean forms.

Too bad she let it slip…Well, too bad for her since it ended her career. And ended her too, by the hands of her most prized prodigy.

The memory makes Coriolanus smile as it washed over him like a warm waterfall.

Coriolanus strode into Dr. Gaul's private lab, where she had her latest deadly mutt experiment in a terrarium, with one mission in mind. To get Dr. Gaul's approval for your cesarean.

He might hate you for leaving, but he didn't want you to die in childbirth with his baby. He didn't want you and your child to succumb to the same fate as his mother and baby sister.

Not when he could help it.

He was a child when his mother and baby sister died during child birth in the Dark Days, he was helpless when it came to their fate.

But now Coriolanus was a man, a very successful one that had cunning, wits, and charm to carry him far. He had an endless supply of money too. He was no longer helpless when it came to the fate of his- well his heir and it's mother during a deadly childbirth.

Coriolanus now has the means to beat fate when it came to death in the birthing bed; he was going to make sure that you and his heir did not share the same fate his mother and baby sister all those years ago during the war.

“Dr. Gaul, I need you to sign off on an emergency cesarean for Miss Y/N Halvir. She's at the military hospital ob Peacekeeper Base-12.”

“Hippity, hoppity, looks like Snow's melting for a baby boppity.” Dr. Gaul sing-songed in a mocking cackle as she watched the mutts moving around in their tank.

They looked agitated, starved even, as their colorful bodies slithered around, sharp claws scratching their glass enclosure, and sharp teeth gnashing and snapping.

The mad scientist was teasing them by holding a bucket full of food, pulling a rodent from it and dangling it by the glass terrarium. She was teasing them, gauging their reaction to her lunchtime torture.

She had snatched away her most successful experiment’s most desperately wanted meal before he could eat; Dr. Gaul had even spoon fed him a meal that was just as good, but not what he wanted. It was what he needed, what she needed him to have to be the monstrous creature she wanted by her side to do her bidding.

She enjoyed teasing and taunting her experiments.

The only creatures of hers that she actually fed were her eels. But…they were more like beloved, dangerous, pets then mutts at this point since Dr. Gaul's had them for so many years.

Dr. Gaul placed the squirming mouse back into the bucket, turning away from the glass tank to look at Coriolanus. “No.” She simply said before walking across the lab to shelf the bucket of rodents.

She'd have an assistant feed the baby anthropomorphic reptiles in the terrarium later, after she shooed away her favorite creation, Mr. Snow, and had her milk and crackers.

“No?” Coriolanus parroted, his tone full of disbelief.

How dare she tell him no? He wasn't asking her to authorize a procedure on anyone, but the mother of his child.

“But, Dr. Gaul, without the procedure Y/N and the baby might die.”

“If they die then they die, Coriolanus.” The mad scientist shrugged nonchalantly. “Death is a natural part of life. If someone weaker or lesser than is removed from the cycle of life then it just proves that their contribution to the ecosystem would not have mattered. Death is the natural way of purging those creatures that are useless in the world.”

Coriolanus could not believe what he was hearing. His mentor was giving him a lecture on why he needed to let the mother of his child and his heir die.

Was he supposed to agree with her?

Well, he couldn't do that.

He didn't want his heir to die.

And you…well…he wanted to be the one that killed you. For leaving him, of course.

“I'm not talking about weak helpless creatures, I'm talking about-” Coriolanus began to say, only for the mad scientist to cut him off with a scoff.

“The little girl that left you over a few words of warning penned in a letter and your damning tape of your best friend Sejanus’ rebel plot. Her bastard offspring that’ll be as weak hearted as its mother. That's who you're talking about, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul told, not asked, Coriolanus as she crossed her lab. Going over to where she had a small table with crackers and milk set up for her snack.

A letter? What letter? He knew about the tape, but not a letter. You never told him about the letter.

“Might as well be weak helpless creatures, considering their dire circumstances and the lowly district they're in.” The mad woman added in as a slight after thought.

“I never told you she received a letter.” Coriolanus, who had figured out what Dr. Gaul has done, told the scientist while following her. His floor shines clicked heavily against the linoleum floor as he told her, “The only way you'd know would be if you sent it.”

Taking a seat at her small snack table, the scientist with wild, frizzy hair, giggled, “Oh, yes, you see, it was indeed me that sent the weak little girl that care package.” Reaching for her napkin and snapping it open, she evilly grinned, “Miss Y/N Halvir and the bastard she carries would only have held you back.” Setting her napkin on her lap, she explained, “The feelings they would have invoked in you would only make you weak.” Giving her protege a proud smile, she giddily announced, “I only made you stronger by removing an element not needed in your life at the moment.” Reaching for a cracker that was on a plate, Dr. Gaul failed to see the rage in Coriolanus' blue eyes. Perhaps if she did, she wouldn't have said, “You should be thanking me, for making you stronger and more powerful then you could have been months ago with the weakness of that stupid girl and the vile creature she's incubating.”

Hearing Dr. Gaul calling you stupid and calling his child a vile creature was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Coriolanus was barely hanging onto his sanity when he realized that Dr. Gaul made you leave him, made you want to protect his child from any dangers (including him) because of a letter and a tape she sent you. But the moment she insulted you, the woman that has consumed his thoughts and has been his obsession since his freshman year in the Academy, and his child in a way that made you seem inhuman, well, he snapped.

He was blinded with rage as he pounced on the mad scientist, catching her off guard and causing her to fall backwards; off her chair.

Coriolanus kneeled over her while wrapping his hands around her throat.

“Y/N was mine, you knew she was mine, and you took her from me! You took her and our child from me when you knew all I wanted was a life with her!” Coriolanus wildly exclaimed as he choked the life out of Dr. Gaul.

“Everything I've ever done was all for her! I needed to win the Plinth prize for her, for our life together, and I had to find a way out of the Peacekeepers, out of 12, for her! You knew that and still, you made her think she meant nothing to me; made her view me as a monster and leave me!” The platinum blonde ranted as his long fingers pressed so hard into the dark skinned woman’s neck that the bones began to crack.

Dr. Gaul gasped for air as her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her eyes were wide and frenzied with the horrific realization that her favorite mutt, the monster she molded and shaped, had turned on her all because somewhere deep down inside of his black, dead heart, he still had a space reserved for his childhood sweetheart.

The blood vessels in Dr. Gaul's eyes burst due to the pressure Coriolanus was applying to her airway. He smirked wickedly as he watched the life drain from her.

“Snow lands on top.” Was the last thing Dr. Gaul heard before she died and went straight to hell.

Coriolanus, upon seeing that the evil scientist was dead, quickly tossed her into the pool of eels to cover up the crime.

Then he forged her signature on the documents needed for your cesarean; faxed them to the hospital on the base in District 12. He also made a quick note in her desk planner stating that he had to take an emergency family leave due to the birth of his first child. It was the perfect alibi to cover his tracks. Nobody would question his whereabouts if they thought Dr. Gaul herself authorized your emergency cesarean, authorized his family leave as well.

You were weak as you took in the bright artificial lights of your hospital room. When you tried to sit up, you were gently stopped by a large hand you hadn't seen in months. “You need to rest, darling. You're still weak.” A baritone you never thought you'd ever hear again told you.

Looking towards the voice, you saw Coriolanus sitting by your bedside with your baby in his arms. Your heart stopped beating and all you could say was, “My baby.”

You didn't know if you were afraid that your ex was holding your son or overwhelmed with a sick sense of joy, but all you knew was that you wanted your baby.

“Our baby, Y/N.” Coriolanus corrected you before standing and placing the newborn into your awaiting arms.

As you held your son to your chest, you shuddered and began crying. The last thing you remember was passing out and when you woke up…well…you had no idea what happened to the baby.

“Did my brother call you?” You asked, realizing that's the only way Coriolanus would know where to find you. Honestly, you were shocked he even came when Rein called.

“Yes.” The platinum blonde nodded. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he wrapped an arm around your back and promised, “As soon as your cleared to leave, I'm bringing you and Cassian Xandros home with me, to the Capitol.”

Looking between your son, nestled soundly in your arms, and his father, you sadly sighed, “Cassian's district, Coriolanus. He was born on base; he won't be allowed on the train.”

“Don't worry about that, my darling rose. I promise, our son will be allowed to return to the Capitol with us.”

You doubted your ex’s words, but nodded anyways.

Little did you know that Coriolanus threatened to kill the nurse’s family who gave him the registration papers for your son if he was marked down as anything, but born in Capitol General.

Like hell was his son, his heir, going to be district. His son wasn't going to grow up in a filthy mud hole. And he sure as hell wasn't going to be fighting for his life in the games.

Coriolanus kills so that his son, Cassian, doesn't have to.

So, folded up neatly in his pocket was a birth certificate that falsely states that Cassian Xandros Snow was born at Capitol General, in Capitol City, Panem.

Even tho Coriolanus Snow was a heartless monster, he was yours. He’s always been obsessed with you and now that you share a child with him, well, even the devil couldn't keep you and your son from him.

After all, he did send the wicked witch of the Citadel to hell for you and his son.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons , @qoopeeya , @mfnqueen1

[piratefishmama]

Nest | Part 11

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

“Doctor Owens?” The enquiry followed three firm knocks on the slightly ajar door to Owens’ office, his open door policy ensuring the door remained open whenever possible, only when he was in a meeting, or absent from the office, was it ever shut.

“Come in” Owens lifted his gaze from the papers atop his desk to look at the Beta who entered carrying a small manilla folder “Ah, Miss Buckley, what can I do for you?”

“You uh… you told me to inform you when Eddie dropped into the third stage of his heat? I… may have forgotten to do that initially and uhm… he dropped about four hours ago now?” In Robins defence, Steve had been lingering around the cafeteria instead of going home and well… she couldn’t just leave sad Steve on his own. He had those puppy eyes that made everything hurt an he was clearly trying to hide how distressed he was, it wasn’t working at all, but he wouldn’t leave so— “Steve’s been… distressed so I’ve just been a little—” distracted.

“Yes, yes of course he is, of course, he’s out of the room then?” Owens was already rising from his chair, this was… uncharted territory at Nest. A pair of scent mates separated from each other so late into the heat was… okay so anything regarding scent mates was kind of uncharted territory, so to have an observable pair?

Goldmine. It was like a goldmine, but the gold was knowledge, and he was an academic!

“Yep, he’s not left the facility though, he’s just—he’s just in the cafeteria.” It wasn’t too far away from Eddie’s room. And he was bumming everyone out.

It stank of musty, mouldy bread and nothing was bringing him out of it.

“So he could leave without negative effect, good. Good okay, that’s good, walk with me Miss Buckley.” Robin stepped out of the way to allow the elder beta to pass by, quickly closing the door behind them, she hurried to fall into step beside him.

“I wouldn’t say there’s been no negative effect, Steve is—well he’s a mess, and I dunno how Eddie’s doing if—if he’s doing well at all I mean, before the cameras turned off it looked like he was crying an—”

“I merely meant negative as there were no violent outbursts, that Steve was able to leave without being physically harmed, or without Eddie trying to harm himself. I understand there’ll be some distress from both sides of this. Do you have the measurements from the levels in the room?” She handed the file to him, allowing him to check over the enclosed documents with an experienced eye. “…These… are… from how long ago?”

“I got them about ten minutes ago.”

“And you say he’s been dropped for about four hours now?”

“Yes.”

“…Shit.” And the pace picked up into a jog, all the way to what looked, for all intents and purposes, like a closet. Robin had passed by that door, pretty much every single day since she’d started her job, it had a keycard slot on the door like most doors in the facility, but nothing else, a completely ordinary closet.

Except Owens had the keycard to it. “Uhm—” they stopped outside of it.

“Do me a favour Miss Buckley, go get Steve for me, okay? Bring him here and uh… use this on the door when you get back.” He handed her the keycard after using it to open the dark room, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him, leaving her alone in the hallway staring at a little blank plastic card. It had no room number on it, no identifying marks, just… a completely blank, white card.

Somehow she felt like she held the key to the universe. And while she was not prepared for that level of responsibility, Owens had given her a task, and the task involved getting Steve, she could get Steve.

Even if Steve had to be dragged from the cafeteria stinking of mouldy bread, releasing thee most pitiful whines as she dragged him by his hand down the hallway back to that room, going a little bit of a longer route around because the original route passed by Eddie’s room and that’d have just been a disaster.

He was a big alpha! She didn’t want to have to bodily shove him down the hallway away from the room!

That’d have been way too much like a cartoon where someone tried to push a big box or a boulder and just. Ran in place for a bit before flopping to the floor in exhaustion. She wasn’t built to force Alphas into doing things.

He was only allowing her to pull him because he was so sad.

He was breaking her heart, it sucked. But they made it with only limited staring from other staff members which was nice. “Robbie where are we?”

“Owens’ special closet I guess, I dunno he just told me to bring you here.” Keycard inserted, door unlocked, and the dark room had been lit up by a single overhead light, Owens, back facing them, sat in a chair at a desk with many monitors but only one on. “Doctor Owens? I’ve brought Steve” The Beta in charge switched the monitor off and turned to face them.

“Well, you weren’t kidding about the distress, eugh, come in the both of you, bit of a tight squeeze but please close the door behind you.” Robin and Owens weren’t exactly the biggest of people but Steve… Steve was pretty broad. He was the one taking up all the room. “Alright… after today, you both should forget this room exists, usually to enter this room, you need be a Beta, to have several degrees in medical sciences, a psych evaluation every two months, and consent to random spot checks on all your electronic devices both personal and professional done by an external government official. Really only I’m qualified to be in here. Now I only bring you both in… because Miss Buckley, you are closest to Steve, and so could probably get through to him in a crisis, and Steve… because this pertains to your scent mate. Normally, you… really shouldn’t be in here.”

Silence, complete silence, both beta and alpha staring at him in wide eyed confused silence. At least Steve’s sad alpha smell seemed to be dissipating with the distraction.

He continued, “Miss Buckley, the readings you gave me were… strange, usually at this point in an Omegas heat, in layman’s terms, the ‘sexual pheromones’ in that room should be in the red.” Four hours in? That room should be drenched in ‘I’m ready for a knot!!!!’ “It’s not, not even close. It reads like he’s having a nightmare. And these levels here, this… this shouldn’t be so low either, this is unprecidented” he pointed to another bar neither were close enough to read the label of.

“Sorry, sorry, what is this room?” Steve was too busy staring at the papers in Owens hand in complete bafflement as if staring longer would make it make sense. Robin was focused more on the monitors.

“This is a secondary monitoring station, none of the monitors are currently on because you are not qualified to see into those rooms. In cases such as Mr Munson’s, difficult cases, there’s a health and safety addition to the admission papers, it simply means a qualified person is allowed to observe in the third stage of a heat to ensure the omega remains safe during it. Mr Munson is aware that this is in place, and consented to it before his heat began.”

“And… an you’re the only one allowed in here?”

“I’m the only one with the keycard yes, I’d like that back now.” He held out his hand and motioned to give it back, which she did. “Thank you.”

“Why are we here?” Steve finally managed to speak “what’s… what’s this got to do with me?”

“Steve… Eddie isn’t using the heat aids.” Owens reached back behind him, and clicked that monitor back on, going against pretty much every single rule in the rulebook just to show one very soul crushing, grainy image.

Eddie Munson, wrapped up in a weighted blanket cocoon, pressed into the corner of the room away from his nest, head down, face buried in the fabric of the blanket, shaking like a leaf desperately holding on through a hurricane.

Steve was out of that room before either of them could stop him.

Part 13

[chuuyasfanboy]

Heya^^ feel free to ignore this request but I'm dying to see more of beast Dazai that isn't angst so I'd like to request some headcanons about beast Dazai finding out that in every other universe where he lives he has the same s/o, aka reader, I just wanna hear out how he is gonna react to such news.

Anyways, love your writing! Hope you have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate! (I'm so sorry if my expectations are weirdly worded)

I have 3 matchups and another request to do but OH MY GOD BEAST GUYS FINALLY I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR MY MOMENT I LOVE BEAST

Also you're so right, we do need more non-angsty Beast. As much as I eat the FUCK up of sad Dazai, I love happy Dazai too, lets give him attention!!!!! Let's also totally ignore the gif I chose is seconds after he just stabbed himself- he's smiling, it's fine guys, he's fine

Beast!Dazai x Reader

Dazai has gone through many worlds, all in the sake of keeping one man alive

Though, he'd be lying to himself if he said there weren't consistencies

It was strange, no matter how different the circumstances were, some things stay the same regardless

His bandages, for one

Whether he took them off later, wore them differently, or drowned himself alive in them, they always remained in some capacity

In the original, he wore them more as a child, but took off a majority of them as he grew and changed

In another, he developed completely, and removed them altogether as a show of improvement

And in the current one, they remained on the opposite side of his body, proving that things must be different, even just a bit

But those weren't the only consistencies either

Chuuya was also there, always

Whether an enemy or righthand man

Once he took the other with him to the ADA

In another world he died

And in another they never met, only watched from a distance

And then, of course, there was you

Only, yours was far different from the many other similarities he'd documented

While his focus was always on Oda, he couldn't deny an attachment he'd formed

You were always by his side. Never an enemy, never leaving, never changing

You were just you

It was almost strange, how you always seemed to trust him no matter who he was, no matter how he acted

But it made him feel truly wanted, it made him almost reconsider certain measures he decided to take for the sake of his goals

Almost

Humming a soft melody into his ear as you worked the stressed knots out of his hair

You brought a light to his life that only Oda could compare to, something intangible, something he hoped he wouldn't lose

And he hoped all his visions of his other lives proved that he couldn't

Because, as stated, you were always with him

You were always there to calm his nerves, to give him sweet kisses and a loving embrace

Once, in another life, he'd stressed himself to much that he got a terrible nosebleed and passed out for hours

And when he awoke, you were the only face he was greeted with

Not a nurse, not Chuuya, not even Oda

You

Perhaps he could consider you a second goal

It would be a nice side effect to keep you alive as well

He tried the same approach he did with Oda in this world, avoided meting you altogether

Maybe if you never interacted, you'd be saved from the whims of fate

He'd almost been convinced you were aware of the realities as well

Because somehow, you still found your way into his arms

And he into yours

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Mary Harrington

Published: Feb 19, 2024

A new study challenges the common assertion that gender-dysphoric youth are at elevated risk of suicide if not treated with “gender affirming” medical interventions. If it’s true, it ought to have a seismic impact on the accepted medical approach to gender-confused youth.

Reported in the BMJ, the study examines data on a Finnish cohort of gender-referred adolescents between 1996 and 2019, and compares their rates of all-cause and suicide mortality against a control group. While suicide rates in the gender-referred group studied were higher than in the control group, the difference was not large: 0.3% versus 0.1%. And — importantly — this difference disappeared when the two groups were controlled for mental health issues severe enough to require specialist psychiatric help.

In other words: while transgender identity does seem to be associated with elevated suicide risk, the link is not very strong. What’s more, the causality may not work the way activists claim.

The association between gender dysphoria and mental illness is well-documented by both providers of “gender-affirming care” and trans advocacy groups and clinical psychology research. But one less well-evidenced claim, based on this association, is that these difficulties are caused not by being transgender, but by the political and social stigma associated with it. Gender dysphoria, we are to understand, is not in itself a mental health issue. What causes mental health issues in transgender youth — up to and including suicide — is the wider world’s rejection of their identity, and of the metaphysical frame of “gender identity” as such.

This is the root of the oft-repeated social media assertion that anyone who demurs about trans identity, however mildly, is complicit in “trans genocide”. The same assertion that invalidating trans youth makes them kill themselves is also behind the rhetorical question routinely used to browbeat parents into consenting to social and medical transition for their gender-confused offspring: “Would you rather have a live daughter or a dead son?”

It’s behind the prohibition on “trans conversion therapy” already in force in several countries, and promised by the Labour Party in England too. Such measures forbid therapists from exploring with their clients whether there is any link between their gender dysphoria and — for example — life trauma or other mental health issues. For logically, if the cause of distress and suicidality in trans people is not being accepted for who they are, any therapist who seeks to explore links between gender dysphoria and other biographic or psychiatric issues is complicit in just this kind of non-acceptance, and is thus not helping but harming their client.

But as the study puts it: “Clinical gender dysphoria does not appear to be predictive of all-cause nor suicide mortality when psychiatric treatment history is accounted for.” Rather, what predicts risk in this population is “psychiatric morbidity”. And contra the activists, transitioning does nothing to reduce it: “medical gender reassignment does not have an impact on suicide risk.”

Every suicide is a tragedy, and leaves grieving loved ones behind. No one wants to be complicit in pushing a young person down that path. So the suggestion that questioning someone’s gender beliefs may have this effect serves as a powerful emotional cudgel. But if the Finnish study is correct, this whole rhetorical, legislative, and medical edifice may be built on sand. If the elevated risk of suicidality in trans youth disappears when you control for other psychiatric difficulties, this suggests strongly that trans youth are not more at risk due to transphobia or invalidation, but due to the well-documented fact that gender dysphoria tends to occur in people who are disturbed and unhappy more generally.

It ought to follow from this that the way to manage suicide risk in trans-identified young people is not to affirm their gender identity and whisk them off for medical interventions, but to watch for and treat psychiatric comorbidities. Ultimately, though, the claims of gender ideology are less scientific than metaphysical. So don’t expect scientific evidence that contradicts its prescriptions to have much impact on trans advocates. Even if “following the science” would make a real difference to suicide risk in gender-dysphoric youth.

==

History will view "gender affirming care" advocates the same way we view lobotomy advocates.

[redjaybathood]

This is very important. In Crimea, russians, again, start to use fake criminal investigations to incarcerate Crimean Tatars. This is not new - but it is the new mass wave of searches on trumped-up charges and arrests.

Translation of the thread below.

1/9 Mass searches in Crimea

10 Crimean Tatar families. 10 homes, where russian "security forces" broke into at dawn. What do we know about the newe wave of mass searches on the Crimean peninsula? 

2/9 4 activists of "Crimean Solidarity", Bakhchysarai, as well as 6 religion leaders and activists from Dzhankoy district, became victims of the rampage of the occupatoinal forces.

Among them, the former Imam Remzi Kurtnezirov, who has a severe disability.

 3/9 "Security forces" behaved themselves very rudely, despite the presence of elderly and small children.

Over the course of the searches, they took documents, tech, and literature. Moreover, the relatieves of the detained people state that the books were planted.

 4/9 FSB agents, when asked by the relatives, replied that they are looking for weapons and illicit chemicals. 

The men are charged with Article 205.5 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation - the same one that the Hizb ut-Tahrir cases are fabricated under.

5/9 After the searches, Crimean Tatars were taken to FSB HQ in Simferopol. 

Currently, some of them were allowed a lawyer but the pre-trial detention measure was not choosen yet.

6/9 Names of the detained: Rustem Osmanov, Aziz Azizov, Memet Lumanov, Mustafa Abduramanov, Remzi Kurtnezirov, Vakhid Mustafayev, Ali Mamutov, Arsen Kashka, Enver Khalilayev, Nariman Ametov

7/9  

According to preliminary information, this is the third largest wave of searches on the alleged involvement in Hizb ut-Tahrir. 

The most massive searches took place in March 2019, when 24 Crimean Tatars were targeted.

8/9 CrimeaSOS analyst Yevhen Yaroshenko notes that detentions in the "Hizb ut-Tahrir cases" in Crimea are intensified approximately once every six months.

This is due to the targeted plan for certain categories of "cases" that intelligence officers have to fulfill.

9/9 Repressions against Crimean Tatars are one of the principles of russia's criminal policy on the peninsula. 

In order to stop the occupiers, we must respond firmly to every manifestation of lawlessness and effectively oppose it

[beautification-tales]

The Accountant

A Caption Tale

Ruth walked to her office after exiting the elevator. She sat down and took a sip of her coffee. She was excited as a major new client was meeting her today. This could be the break she needed to take her career to the next level. She had been preparing for weeks. The office was quiet except for the occasional sound of the air conditioner kicking in and the distant murmur of colleagues in the hallway.

She straightened out her desk as she readjusted her jacket. She checked her reflection in her desktop computer screen as she fixed her hair. The digital clock read 8:50 AM, and she had ten minutes before the meeting was set to begin. The anticipation grew within her like a tightly coiled spring, ready to unravel at any moment.

The quiet was suddenly pierced by the sound of approaching footsteps. The door to her office swung open, revealing a sharply dressed man with a briefcase in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. "Good morning, Ms. Taylor," he said with a firm handshake and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Alex Mercer, from Mercer Industries. I hope I'm not too early."

Ruth's heart skipped a beat. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for. She returned the smile, trying to hide the nerves that danced in her stomach. "Not at all, Mr. Mercer. Please, have a seat." She gestured to the chair across from her desk.

Ruth took a deep breath as her heart continued to beat rapidly. Ruth gathered her thoughts as she couldn’t help but be attracted to the successful businessman. She hoped she could impress him with her presentation.

Alex sat down and placed his briefcase on the floor. He took a sip from his coffee, eyeing the room with a critical gaze. The silence grew thicker as he took in the neatly arranged documents and the diplomas hanging on the wall. He looked back at her, his gaze unreadable. "I've been looking forward to this," he said, setting his cup down. "Your company has quite the reputation, and I have high expectations."

Ruth felt a surge of confidence. She had worked hard to make sure everything was perfect for this moment. She opened her file and began her presentation, her voice steady and professional. The room was filled with the soft glow of the screen, displaying graphs and figures that painted a picture of growth and potential. Alex nodded occasionally, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Wow you really did your homework Ms. Taylor. I am impressed but I do have one question.” Alex leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, his eyes now fully focused on her. Ruth smiled at the compliment of her work and responded. “Please call me Ruth and I would be glad to answer your questions.”

“Well I’m primarily here for your other services.” Alex’s voice was measured, hinting at something beyond the usual business dealings. “You see, I have been facing some... challenges with self-control. I’ve heard your firm has a knack for... handling such situations discreetly and effectively. Is that true?”

Ruth squinted as she was confused by Alex’s question. She was an accountant and financial planner not a therapist. “I’m not sure I understand the question Alex do you mean you spend company funds frivolously?” She asked carefully trying not to misconstrue his words.

“No… well I do that too but I’m talking about the special service you perform for top clients.” Alex leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. “The kind that ensures their dirty laundry stays out of the public eye and doesn’t affect their bottom line. I need your help with that, Ruth.”

“I still don’t think I get what you mean…” Ruth replied, feeling a chill creep down her spine. Alex’s smile grew wider, but it no longer looked friendly. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder, tossing it onto the desk. Ruth opened it to find Alex’s prenup. She wasn’t a legal expert but the financial language was very clear.

“That’s right Ruth if I get caught cheating then I lose my company. However, being a handsome, rich, public man makes it extremely hard to resist temptation.” Ruth looked at Alex still confused as to how she could assist with this problem. “I’m sorry Alex… I still don’t understand how I can help you with this…” she replied tentatively.

“Wow, you really don’t know?” Alex leaned back in his chair, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. “Your firm is the perfect cover for releasing tension. So I’m here for a session… my frigid wife is purposefully resisting me. She also hired a lingerie model as my assistant. I need a release.”

“Mr. Mercer I’m sure a good porn video can do the job. I can help you with your financial portfolio. Not that.” The words came out before she could stop them. Alex’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes turned icy. “So you have no idea that your company is really a brothel for high end businessman?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ruth felt the blood drain from her face. This was not what she signed up for. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was an accomplished educated woman and this powerful man was treating her like an object to be used. She couldn’t hold back her frustration and anger. “Brothel! How dare you! I understand that you are rich and powerful but I do not need your business you Neanderthal!!! I graduated from Yale you bastard. I’m sure I can find other clients.”

Alex kept his smile during Ruth’s tirade. “Are you finished?” he asked calmly, taking a sip of his coffee. His composure was unshaken. “Yes get out !” she retorted, pointing at the door. Alex stood up, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He took a moment to look her over before speaking again. “Your firm’s reputation precedes it, but I admit I had my doubts but consider them gone now.” He stared at Ruth deeply into her eyes. He then whispered “reformo”

Ruth fell back into her seat as if she was struck by lightning. She felt as if her skin was on fire. “Uhh what … what did you do to me?” she stuttered. She felt as if her skin was stretching all over her body. She grasped the handles to her desk chair as her body stiffened. She arched her back as her breasts exploded from her chest doubling in size. She moaned as they felt so sensitive against her clothes. Alex sat back down enjoying the show.

Ruth continued to moan as her body continued to shift. The room became heavy as magical energy permeated inside. Ruth’s fingernails grew longer and more feminine as they gained a beautiful French manicure. Her lips puffed out and became soft like pillows.She felt her skirt recede until it became a tight pencil skirt. Her hips and ass grew larger making the skirt hug her flesh. Pantyhose covered her smooth legs making them even more irresistible.

The clothes morphed as her shirt lowered to expose her amazing cleavage. She felt her panties become a g string. The sleeves of her jacket shrunk exposing her toned arms. The heels of her stilettos grew longer as her feet became more delicate and comfortable in the arch position. A pearl necklace formed on her neck with a matching bracelet on her wrist.

Her mind became cloudy as math and numbers erased like it was on a whiteboard. Ruth continued to moan as her lips curled into a smile. The wall of diplomas also changed as they became pictures of her with celebrities and businessmen. Ruth began to giggle as she felt her pussy become wet. She was a professional all right. She was a professional bimbo slut for her clients.

“Mmm fuck that felt so good! Ah Mr. Mercer! Pleasure to have you here in the office. How can I serve you?” The words slipped out of Ruth’s lips without thought, her mind now a haze of pleasure and obedience. She pulled her hair into a ponytail. She was no longer the sharp-witted financial planner she had been moments ago. Instead, she was a bimbo, eager to please the man before her.

“Ah well um … Ruth. I needed a release.” Alex leaned back in his chair watching her transformation with a twisted smile. His eyes scanned her new body with hunger. He adjusted himself in his seat feeling his cock press against his slacks.

“Why of course Mr. Mercer! I’m going to make that hard cock spew so much yummy cum. And it’s Roxy sir not Ruth.”

Roxy smiled as she stood up from her chair and kneeled in front of her client. She unbuckled his pants and grasped onto his engorged member. Alex sighed in relief.

“You’re in good hands now sir.”

[mkmas]

Take Me, My Beloved Villain - Jude Jazza

sorry for any mistakes 🙇‍♀️ also everything is owned by cybird, i only translated

Kate: Ju-Jude, please let go! I can walk on my own!

Jude grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and dragged me down the corridor.

Jude: You’re going to run away as soon as I let go. I have to be cautious.

Kate: I won’t run away! I will pay back what I owe you…!

Today is the 31st of December.

I had been helping Victor make preparations for the countdown party since this morning.

However, Jude suddenly appeared in the kitchen.

“Have you forgotten that you owe me for saving your life yesterday? I will have you pay me back in labor.” …….. Then, he kidnapped me.

(I’m grateful to Jude for saving me from almost getting shot last night. He saved my life)

(But…)

Kate: It must be hard for Victor to prepare alone…..

Jude: Ha, you’re worried about him? How kind of the princess.

Jude: But it’s useless to try to measure someone who is the Queen's aide by ordinary standards.

Jude: No matter how much you complain, it's already decided that you're going to help me with my work. Shut up and follow me.

And so, I was forcibly brought to the common room.

On the desk is a familiar typewriter.

Jude: Use it to transcribe the handwritten documents. The format should be the same as the sample.

Ellis: Jude, I got what you asked for.

Ellis, who came into the room after us, had his hands full of papers.

Kate: Thi-This many…..!?

I trembled, and Jude gave me a cold glare.

Jude: Can’t do it? Was your life so light that you didn't deserve a job of this magnitude?

Jude: Sorry….. I must have overestimated.

Kate: Life isn’t light, even for me. But….. It’s too much, I don’t know if I can do it alone.

Ellis: It's okay, Kate. Jude wouldn't ask someone who isn’t capable.

(….. Ellis and Jude are like carrot and stick)***

Kate: ….. I understand. I will do it wholeheartedly…..

Jude: Don’t put your heart into it. All I want is speed and accuracy.

Jude: If you miss even 1 letter….. Do you want to know what happens?

I began work with a twitch in my cheeks, sensing that it was more than just a threat.

———

Jude: ….. That’s enough.

Jude stopped my work at 7pm, a few hours after we started.

Kate: Eh…. But it looks like there are still some paperwork left to do…..

Jude: No matter how much progress you make, there's no point in reviewing if I can't catch up.

(But I think Jude's revision work is well on its way….?)

Jude: ….. What’s with that face? I told you to stop, but you’re not happy?

Kate: N-No. It’s not like that.

(….. That’s right. Jude said so, so let’s call it a day)

I've learned from experience that pestering him will only make him grumpier, so I decided to clean up my desk.

Kate: What kind of year would you like to have next year, Jude? Do you have any resolutions?

Jude: Resolutions? I have nothing like that.

Jude: The year changes, but in reality, there’s no actual real effect. It's just an arbitrary boundary decided by humans.

Jude: Last year, this year, next year, nothing I do will be any different.

(If I recall correctly….. Jude needs money to fulfill his promise to someone)

(That’s what you’re working so hard for, right)

Kate: Jude is pushing forward towards his goal.…. It’s amazing.

Jude: Flattery will get you nothing in return.

Kate: I’m not looking for anything in return, I really do think so.

It didn't mean anything, but Jude frowned as if he had eaten something he didn't like.

He waved his hand as if to tell me to get the hell out of the room.

———

Victor: Kate! Are you finished with the work Jude asked you to do?

Kate: Yes, he doesn't need any more help today.

Victor: The best timing, we were just about to eat.

Victor: I'm glad Jude kept his promise to me.

(Oh, by the way…..)

———

It was when Jude came to the kitchen to take me away.

Kate: Sorry, Victor.…. I have to help Jude.

Victor: Don't worry about it. I'll prepare everything for you too!

Victor: But….. With all these delicious food prepared, you have to get Kate back in time for dinner, okay?

Jude: It’s up to her to decide when she can go home.

———

(….. Jude, I guess you let me go because it was time for dinner.)

The timing of the work being stopped seemed unnatural, so it must be it.

Then, time passed as everyone gathered in the dining room to eat.

However, Jude never came to the dining room.

(I guess his work isn't done yet…..)

Curious, I kept looking at the door, but there was no sign of anyone coming in.

Roger: Kate, could you do me a favor?

Kate: Yes, what is it?

Roger: I want you to bring Jude some food.

Roger: Jude hasn't eaten anything since lunch, has he? If he dies, we'll have a lot of work to do starting in the new year and it will be troublesome.

Roger: He would get annoyed if I nag him so I would be grateful if the young lady can encourage him.

Kate: …..! I understand!

Having found a good reason to visit Jude, I put some food on the plate and left the dining room.

Alfons: ….. Saying you’re worried when you’re really not, how shameless.

Roger: It’s not really a lie, is it? Well, the biggest motive was that the young lady was worried.

———

I came to the common room with a bowl of hot soup and a loaf of bread.

(Huh…..? Jude isn’t here. He left his papers here, so he’ll probably be back soon)

There, my eyes fell on the desk that Jude had been using.

(Ah….. I knew it, it was a lie that the revision process couldn't keep up)

The paperwork I had finished producing had long since been reviewed, and another new set of work documents was spread out on the desk.

(From the moment we met... Jude has been mercilessly and arrogantly cornering me.)

(So why does he sometimes give me kindness that is hard to understand?)

Is it just a whim, or is it to win me over and use me.…. or is it something more?

(….. I don't know what Jude's true feelings are, which is why I'm so curious and want to know)

But, even in the midst of uncertainty, there are certain things.

I hope Jude’s dream comes true one day, those are my feelings.

(That's right! Let's make a wish for the New Year!)

(I think I'll use.….. this wooden desk that Jude used)

Kate: Touch wood…..

While whispering, I tapped the desk lightly. It's a spell that has been passed down in England for a long time to ward off evil spirits.

Jude: ...... What are you doing?

Kate: !?

I heard a doubtful voice behind me and turned to see Jude standing there.

Kate: Wh-When did you get here…..!?

Jude: Just now. …… So, what’s up with the princess?

Jude: Muttering to the desk with a grim look, were you trying to put a curse on me?

Kate: It’s the opposite! I brought dinner, and gave Jude a good luck spell.

Stuttering my words, I explained that I had no malicious intentions.

Jude: I don't need silly wishes like "I hope my wish comes true".

Kate: N-No! I didn’t wish like that.

Jude: ….. Oh?

Jude raised an eyebrow in interest. I felt like he was urging me to continue, so I opened my mouth again.

Kate: ….. Jude says if you owe something, you should pay it back.

Jude: Loans exist to be paid back.

Kate: If the loan is to be paid back…..

Kate: In that same sense, I hope your efforts will be rewarded as well.

Jude: …..

Kate: That’s why….. I wished that Jude’s efforts would be rewarded.

Jude: ….. What a childish wish.

Jude's reaction was as cold as I expected, but that was okay.

Whatever I wish in my heart, is my choice.

Jude: And yours?

Kate: What is?

Jude: Resolutions, resolutions. I'll have to pay you back for your questionable spells. It's a pain in the ass, but.

I never thought that he would give back what I had wished for on my own.

This kind of discipline may be one of the reasons why Jude has been so successful in his work.

(My resolutions for this year are…..)

Kate: ….. I would like to get to know Jude and spend more time with him.

Jude: Spend even more time with me? Come on, you don't have to make that your resolution.

Kate: Eh…..?

Jude: You owe me a lot, remember?

Jude: You don't think you can pay back in a day what you owe me for saving your life, do you?

Kate: Eh, it’s not right!?

Jude: You said it yourself, life is not light. It's not even close.

Jude: Don't even think you can leave me until you pay off all your debts.

(Then that means….. I can spend a lot of time by Jude's side?)

Jude was probably just stating the obvious, that I owe him and I should pay him back, and that there is no special meaning to this.

(It bothers me that I'm treated like a labor force, but still... I don't know why... I'm happy)

The fact that I wanted to be by your side and was allowed to do so even for whatever reason warms my heart.

Jude: ….. Respond.

Kate: Ye-Yes…..! Next year too-

At that moment, as if timed perfectly, a bang sounded.

When I turned around, I saw large fireworks going off in the distance from the common room window.

(….. Oh, it's the New Year already)

Kate: ….. Let’s get along well this year too, Jude.

Jude: Haha, what a gentle and polite bow….. Hopeless.

Jude removes his gaze from mine to resume his work.

It was a new year that came without a countdown, but that didn’t bother me.

Maybe it's because I'm looking forward to being by Jude’s side this year.

***carrot and stick (飴と鞭) or candy and whip = combination of reward + punishment.

[onecornerface]

New study finds cash-transfers didn't have some expected benefits- But why??

A new study (NBER Working Paper) seemingly finds that a monthly cash-transfer ($1000 a month over a few years) to poor people in the US failed to benefit recipients’ mental and physical health or food security in a bunch of ways after the first year. It’s apparently more ambitious than some previous studies of cash transfers in the US. This may be some evidence that UBI doesn’t have all the benefits we’d like it to have for helping poor people or some subsets of them, which could impact future debates on UBI. There may still be consequentialist and/or deontological reasons to support UBI, but we need to ensure they’re aligned with the best evidence on the (good and/or bad) results (or lack thereof).

I’ve read the Twitter summary thread, and skimmed several sections of the paper (especially intro sections and Discussion), but haven't fully read the paper.

Some initial thoughts & questions I’m wondering about—

My main concerns are about the mechanisms, by which I mean how the cash-transfers impacted people’s behavior or psychology in ways that would bring about the measured results (assuming the metrics/results are valid). One of the most puzzling results is on food security.

“We also find that the transfer generated large and highly statistically significant improvements in food security in the first year. However, mirroring our results for mental health, these improvements were short-lived and, by the end of the program, participants in the treatment group reported no better ability to meet their food needs than those in the control group.” (Page 3)

If cash-transfers indeed fail to improve food security for a lot of people after the first year (yet apparently did help during the first year), why? What are the mechanisms by which it would fail?

From my armchair speculation, I can kind-of-sort-of imagine how psychological adaptation (or suchlike) may explain how cash may fail to improve mental health or stress after the first year, leading to something of a return to baseline (albeit with many reservations).

And some of the physical health results also might not be too baffling, since the relationship between income, medical care access, and health results, may well be complex and wonky. Medical access may be reduced by non-income factors, effective medical advice may not be taken up, and many medical practices may be ineffective. That said, there are still a lot of very plausible mechanisms as to how poverty would worsen health—it’s not all specious correlation (even if some is), and it’s not all the result of third-factors causing both poverty and illness (even if some is) and/or illness causing poverty. So there’s still some more explanation needed as to how a lot of these wouldn’t be impacted much, or would be impacted only temporarily, by cash transfers.

All that said, I’m still more puzzled by the food-security results. People’s food needs are a lot more consistent and predictable than their physical healthcare needs, and seem less likely to change due to any return to baseline.

Do the recipients develop a bigger appetite or altered metabolism after the first year? Do they start making worse (or at least, less food-focused) spending decisions, resulting in less money to spend on food? Or what? Was there something else they preferred to spend their money on, besides food, after the first year? Did they not have enough money to spend on food? Did rent take up so much they didn’t have money for food?

Maybe some of them spend more money on drugs or suchlike, resulting in less money for food—but the study seems to find mixed results as to whether drug use increased or not (see Page 36, and search the document for “drug” to see variations of the same claim throughout), and I assume a large chunk of the recipients didn’t spend a lot of money on drugs (even if there was also a large chunk who did). So, in any case, I don’t think very much of the food security result can be easily explained by “recipients spent the money on drugs instead of food.”

So… what gives? Why did food insecurity go down and then back up again??

I’ve skimmed the paper, and it looks like most of it consists in arguments that their statistical methods and suchlike are valid and not confounded, or suchlike. I probably don’t have the expertise to evaluate any of those arguments. But it doesn’t look like there’s much, if any, discussion on the mechanisms. Maybe it’s in there somewhere, I don’t know.

The results wouldn’t be magic. If they’re valid, they should be happening as a result of the recipients changing (or failing to change) their consumption patterns or other decisions or circumstances in various sorts of ways. So what are those? If there aren't any plausible mechanisms (which admittedly would be very hard to show), this could also be reason to question the validity of the results.

It sounds like the lead author, Sarah Miller, is in favor of cash transfers. So the negative results can’t be readily explained by a lead author’s bias against the policy.

Some of the failure may be explained by the fact that the study was only three years, and some benefits may take many years of cash transfers to achieve. However, this doesn’t address why the study did find a bunch of benefits in year 1 which then ceased in year 2. This pattern of benefits appearing and then disappearing also seems to count against the possibility that the study’s method was simply unable to detect the benefits. Apparently it did detect the benefits in year 1, which makes it puzzling why they disappeared in year 2.

A bunch of twitter commenters seem to think the study confirms UBI sucks actually, because poor people are just intrinsically shitty and make bad decisions that keep themselves poor and in bad health completely regardless of what the government does—as the critics had been saying all along.

I’m certainly open to the possibility that poor people tend to make bad decisions, and I want to guard against any politically-correct bias that wrongly rules it out. If and insofar as poor people make decisions that contribute to keeping themselves poor and in bad health (whether these decisions are bad or defensible, which is a further question), then we should want to know what those are, so we can work with them to improve their situations more effectively and ethically.

Many progressives are likely too biased toward underestimating the agency of some poor people, and may well underestimate how many poor people could somewhat improve their situation by making different decisions. I think we can concede a lot of these points without drastically undercutting the position that poverty is obviously extremely bad and unjust, that some forms of government intervention & redistribution are effective, and that the main in-principle objections to government redistribution are weak.

I’m also pretty confident that most of the critics are ideologically committed to the “poor people make bad decisions” hypothesis for biased and unempirical reasons—and also seemingly haven't put forward any detailed hypotheses for how exactly the “poor people make bad decisions” view actually explains the evidence.

Arguably, even if poor people make bad decisions, this isn't enough to explain how and why their consumption or lifestyle decisions (etc.) were impacted by cash-transfers in the right sort of ways to explain any of the main interesting data.

My ideas on the study here are all very provisional. But the study seems worthwhile for UBI proponents to get ahead of, and develop a well-thought-out empirical analysis as to what it does or doesn’t imply for UBI.

[contemplatingoutlander]

Most Republicans aren’t aware of Trump’s various legal issues

"For example, the [YouGov] poll found that most Americans think a conviction would be a fair outcome from Trump’s criminal trials. Among Republicans and those who say they voted for Trump in 2020, though, most would view such a result as unfair. Makes sense, given that most Republicans say they haven’t even heard of the criminal trials." [color emphasis added]

---Philip Bump, columnist for The Washington Post

Well, this is frightening.

Philip Bump once again does an excellent job of analyzing the data to show us the degree to which many Republicans live in an alternate reality. This is a gift🎁link for those who don't subscribe to The Washington Post and want to read he whole article. Below are some excerpts.

There is an assumption, probably particularly among those who cover the news and those who read it, that Donald Trump’s legal travails are common knowledge. [...] But this is a sort of vanity: Just because it is interesting to us certainly doesn’t mean it is interesting to others. Polling released by CNN on Thursday shows that only a quarter of voters seek out news about the campaign; a third pay little to no attention at all. [...] YouGov presented American adults with eight legal scenarios to judge the extent of the public’s awareness. Two were invented: that Trump faces charges related to emoluments or related to drug trafficking. Happily, less than a quarter of respondents said those legal threats actually existed.* The other six were real. The one that was familiar to the most people was the federal classified-documents case that is moving forward in Florida; 6 in 10 Americans said they were aware of that case. The one that had the least awareness was the civil suit in New York in which a judge determined that he’d fraudulently inflated the value of his assets. Just under 50 percent of Americans knew about that. But the pattern among Republicans is clear. At most, 45 percent of Republicans said they knew about legal issues: specifically, the documents case and his being found liable for assaulting the writer E. Jean Carroll. Only a quarter knew about the value-inflation suit, and only 4 in 10 knew about the criminal charges in Manhattan related to the hush money payments to adult-film actress Stormy Daniels.** [color/emphasis added]

[...] It seems very safe to assume this lack of familiarity derives from disinterest in hearing negative information about Trump — and, probably more importantly, the disinterest of conservative and right-wing media outlets to report on them. In May, The Washington Post looked at the extent to which Fox News covered the documents and Daniels cases relative to other cable-news channels. It did so much less frequently. [emphasis added] [...] For example, the poll found that most Americans think a conviction would be a fair outcome from Trump’s criminal trials. Among Republicans and those who say they voted for Trump in 2020, though, most would view such a result as unfair. Makes sense, given that most Republicans say they haven’t even heard of the criminal trials. [color/emphasis added]

Those results look very much like the results YouGov got when it asked Americans which they viewed as a more important issue for presidential fitness: Trump’s indictments or President Biden’s age. About 4 in 10 respondents chose each option. [emphasis added]

It’s important to point out that the responses from independents mostly matched the overall numbers, which is often the case. That means only about half of independents are aware of Trump’s legal issues — potentially meaning there is a large group of Americans who might suddenly learn the details of what’s been alleged if Trump is convicted of a crime. [color/emphasis added] That is the sort of thing that might have a measurable political effect.

_________________________ *Unfortunately 43% of Democrats and 40% of Biden voters thought that the emoluments charges existed. They certainly should exist, but they don't.]

**More troubling to me is that only 42% of Republicans knew about the charges of conspiracy to overturn the 2020 election results, and only 36% of Republicans knew about the charges of attempted obstruction of the 2020 election certification.

[theholmwoodfoundation]

DOCUMENT A scanned page of The Holmwood Foundation Employee Handbook. June 2024

Dear [Employee Name], Welcome to The Holmwood Foundation. After a lengthy vetting process, and what I am sure has felt like an excessive number of contracts, I am honoured to have you join our cause. Every employee of this Foundation has been recommended or scouted by our most trusted members, chosen for your discretion and expertise in your field - whether this is as a historian, a security officer, or as a scientist. We welcome you. There will be much to learn in the coming weeks, and much I am sure you are eager to ask, but I wish to take a minute to address the heart of The Holmwood Foundation—our core value.  Ever since Dame Harker and Lord Godalming created us, we have pursued a singular purpose: to prevent the reanimation of Count Dracula, and to study the lasting effects of vampirism on the human body. In your time here, everything you do will support this cause. You will find your employee handbook and the rest of your onboarding plan in your welcome packet. I encourage you to contact your new team members and manager with any questions you may have.  As I am sure you are aware, any attempts to spread even the most tentative company information beyond the walls of your central facility, or indeed beyond your personal team, will be met with the highest punitive measure this company can afford. I ask you to contemplate why you may not have heard of your department prior to employment, to remember that we have been active for a long, long time, and to remind yourself that you are but a small, easily-expensed cog in a much larger, well-funded machine. Best wishes, and best of luck, Jonathan Harker, CEO

A welcome message from Jonathan Harker 3rd.

[haggishlyhagging]

The dichotomy between what lies inside or outside of a dwelling, and its linguistic effects, appear clearly in Jespersen's discussion of language "conflict," a situation in which speakers are bilingual. What he said about German and Scandinavian immigrants in the u.s. and the Basques of the Pyrenées is interesting for its description as well as its substance.

A difference between the language spoken by men and that spoken by women is seen in many countries where two languages are struggling for supremacy in a peaceful way—thus without any question of one nation exterminating the other or the male part of it. Among German and Scandinavian immigrants in America the men mix much more with the English-speaking population, and therefore have better opportunities, and also more occasion, to learn English than their wives, who remain more within doors. It is exactly the same among the Basques, where the school, the military service and daily business relations contribute to the extinction of Basque in favour of French, and where these factors operate much more strongly on the male than on the female population: there are families in which the wife talks Basque, while the husband does not even understand Basque and does not allow his children to learn it. [My emphases] (241)

What is being "exterminated" in such situations is whatever belongs to the women's domain; whatever is locked inside, what is not taken outside—in this case native language and culture—dies, unless extraordinary measures are taken, as in the case of the modern Basque Separatists fighting assimilation. The men who control access to the "outside world" of business and money impose their linguistic supremacy. The imposition of Norman French on the conquered English is a typical example. Within English dwellings—the women's domain—native Germanic words such as ox, sheep, lamb, and eat were used, but Norman French replaced English as the language of "worldly" (read: male) affairs.

How the two experiential domains determine the language or dialect one speaks answers at least one question posed by contemporary psycholinguistic research. On the one hand, some scholars give priority to the mother's language, which children learn and speak during their formative years. This alleged priority then seems to contradict the findings of other researchers, who point to the well-documented fact of male control of standard languages and grammars. If women are the earliest teachers of native speech, and if it is their linguistic patterns that children learn, how can one talk about "male linguistic control"? The answer should be obvious now. As long as male children remain inside, within their mother's sphere of influence, they imitate her speech. As soon as they step outside of the dwelling, however, into the world of the fathers, they must either abandon their "mother tongue" or find themselves consigned to a limited, impoverished existence beyond the home. The "question," then, isn't a question at all, but a consequence of the separate experiential spheres constructed by PUD [Patriarchal Universe of Discourse]. Aspects of the woman's sphere are restricted and contained within the world named by men. The function of language in maintaining and perpetuating patriarchal social structures and assumptions is more complex than it may at first appear, but it is also consistent across cultures.

-Julia Penelope, Speaking Freely: Unlearning the Lies of the Fathers’ Tongues

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Alyssa Tirrell at MMFA:

Dr. Eithan Haim, a former medical resident at Texas Children's Hospital, was indicted in May for allegedly illegally accessing trans patients’ records, which he subsequently shared with Manhattan Institute senior fellow Chris Rufo.  Right-wing media figures have since defended Haim and brought him in for interviews, often equating the care allegedly provided at Texas Children's Hospital — such as the prescription of "puberty blockers" — with harm or mutilation and alleging that Haim is the target of political persecution.  The campaign has successfully raised both Haim's profile and at least $888,865, which he claims will be used for both his legal defense and “offensive legal action against those who have abused their professional responsibility in service of radical transgender ideology.” 

Haim allegedly illegally accessed trans patients’ records

On February 18, 2022, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton issued an opinion that qualified youth gender-affirming care as "child abuse", prompting Texas Children's Hospital to announce that it would stop proving such care. Although the opinion was not legally binding, the hospital released a statement announcing that it would stop prescribing gender-affirming hormone therapies. The statement, which also alluded to recent measures that Gov. Greg Abbott had taken against families of children receiving gender-affirming care, added that “this step was taken to safeguard our healthcare professionals and impacted families from potential legal ramifications.” [Office of the Attorney General of Texas, 2/18/22; American Civil Liberties Union, 2/23/22; The Washington Post, 3/8/22]

In late spring 2023, Dr. Eithan Haim allegedly accessed the records of trans patients at Texas Children's Hospital and shared them with Manhattan Institute senior fellow Chris Rufo. Haim, a resident at Baylor College of Medicine who had previously conducted rotations at Texas Children's Hospital, shared redacted files with Rufo that allegedly demonstrated that the hospital was continuing to provide gender-affirming services to minors. [Houston Public Media, 6/10/24; U.S. Attorney's Office, Southern District of Texas, 6/17/24; United States District Court of the Southern District of Texas, 5/29/24]

On June 2, 2023, a Texas bill restricting gender-affirming care for children was signed into law. S.B. 14 prohibited “the provision to certain children of procedures and treatments for gender transitioning, gender reassignment, or gender dysphoria” as well as “the use of public money or public assistance to provide those procedures and treatments.” The law went into effect on September 1 of that year. [Texas legislature, 6/2/23]

[...]

Right-wing media figures platformed Haim in solo interviews, where he defended himself 

Since January 2024, with the revelation of his identity, Eithan Haim has appeared as a guest alongside many prominent right-wing media figures. In these interviews Haim neither claimed to have worked directly with trans patients nor disputed sharing the documents with Chris Rufo. Instead, Haim often alleged that he was being unfairly targeted and defended his case on the grounds that the care allegedly provided at Texas Children's Hospital was harmful to pediatric patients. 

Right-wing media defend Dr. Eithan Haim’s HIPAA-violating ways of illegally accessing trans patients’ records while at Texas Children’s Hospital in which he shared those records with far-right anti-LGBTQ+ agitator Christopher Rufo.

[tinydefector]

Laboratory logs 5

Prev

Human effects part that follows this

Next

Shockwave x OC

Word count: 4k

Warnings: hinted Smut, Angst

Guess who fucking sped ran editing this fic. WOOOOOO. sorry to those who were excited for merformers but I wanted to post this.

Request are open please check pinned post for rules.

_________

Tiny stands there in front of Shockwave in a beautiful gown of white, pale green with crystal decorations, his face is decorated with make-up and shimmer almost mimicking Shockwave's helm. The mech was almost stunned with how breathtaking his beautiful human is. He takes a step forward,"Tiny," Shockwave begins, his voice sounding breathless as he admires. "You look... exquisite. The colours and decorations suit you well."

A rare smile tugs at the corners of Shockwave's lips, as he kneels down to his lover's height,reaching out a servo towards Tiny, cupping his face as he traces his digits across the young man's lips. Tiny leans up and kisses Shockwave servo as a smile graces his lips. "You clean up nicely yourself" he giggled while running his hands over the pristine plating. 

The open chest window of the gown is what catches Shockwave's attention the most. It's a soft see through fabric decorated with hanging gems. It was nothing like the clothing or fabric he had ever seen before and in truth he would do anything just to document this to his processor.  "You just going to ogle me Shockwave?" The young man teased

Shockwave's internal systems momentarily recalibrate, A faint hum of approval escapes Shockwave as Tiny's playful teasing draws his attention "I must admit, your choice of gown is beautiful, but i feel that something is missing" he responds, his voice carrying a note of admiration "The elegance and craftsmanship of the gown is something i've never seen before, forgive me i can't find the right words"

As Tiny's hands glide over his plating, Shockwave finds himself responding to the touch with a subtle tilt of his helm as they cup to rest on the side of his face, a silent invitation for more. A deep rumble vibrates from his chassis, the slow whirl and pulse of his spark makes static dance across his plating. 

Shockwave's optics flickers with  amusement, as he chuckles at the comment. "Ogling would imply a lack of focus, which is not the case," Shockwave retorts, his tone tinged with affection. "I simply find myself… speechless."

Tiny lets out a beautiful laugh as Shockwave picks him up. Spinning him around. His lips are on Shockwave's, eagerly kissing the cybertronian. The two continue to admire each other with light brushes against each other's frames. 

 " You'll have to walk me through the steps of a Conjunx Endura ceremony" Tiny whispers against Shockwave's lips. “I can do that” he hums in delight. Slowly letting Tiny back down onto his feet. Shockwave gazes down at Tiny for a moment before he slowly  presses his helm to the human man's forehead. 

"For the Conjunx Ritus, there are four rites to the ceremony," Shockwave begins, his voice steady and measured. As he speaks, Shockwave's servo gently traces down Tiny's chest. “The Act of Intimacy, Disclosure, Profference, Devotion," Shockwave explains, his words carrying a sense of reverence for the significance of the ceremony. 

With a gentle touch, Shockwave brushes a servo against Tiny's cheek, his optic softening. “ The Act of Intimacy ranges, it can be something as simple as a Helmhold or even Spark bonding, it depends on what said Ritus partners prefer, The Act of Disclosure is opening up about something private about oneself, it can be something you have never told anyone before or it could be the deepest darkest secret, a confession in a sense. The Act of Profference is the giving of a heartfelt gift, something that holds meaning to you, some bonded share their inner-energon, others craft gifts for their partner. The Act of Devotion is an act of selflessness for the individual doing something you believe is special for your partner.” 

Tiny listens, never for a moment looking away from Shockwave, his investment in the mechs words aren't lost. “So we have already completed the first one” Tiny hums with a chuckle as he brings Shockwave back down for another kiss before leaning back in to make sure his head is pressed to Shockwave's helm. 

Shockwave's own chuckle follows. “I believe your correct sweetspark” Shockwave takes a moment before he continues. “What is your biggest regret?” He asked Tiny his voice is soft, nearly a whisper when he asked the question. Tiny goes quiet for a moment. “I think it is the fact I never got to say goodbye to my loved ones, never got to tell my brother and sister how proud of them I am” Tiny states. “They were my whole world, but I hope they have been able to move on without me” the pain in Tiny's makes Shockwave's spark ache. He had never known about Tiny's past, he didn't talk about it much, and would get a sad smile when Shockwave asked about his past. 

Tiny gives him a sad smile as he finally asks his question. “You are aware that your time together is going to be fleeting in comparison to your life span, you're over a million years old, I'm lucky to reach seventy at best, are you sure you want this?” Shockwave slowly lifts Tiny up, holding him against his chassis. “And I want to treasure every klik I can with you. I'm aware we have limited time but you are who I want to spend the rest of that time with” 

Tiny wraps his arms around Shockwave's shoulder plating resting his head against him. “I also have a present for you,” Shockwave chimed as he carried Tiny to one of the desks. “Close your eyes” he sang to his little lover. Tiny shakes his head in amusement but does as instructed. The young man can feel something slowly being attached to his gown And placed around his neck and arms. “Open have a look” Shockwave beamed while holding a mirror for Tiny. 

The human man's jaw nearly drops when he sees the shimmering colours curl around in square shaped patterns. It was Bismuth, a stunning shimmering blue and green collection of Jewellery that seemed to almost complement his gown. Shockwave knew him too well. “Shockwave Where did you get this?” he stammered, This felt too much. Shockwave chuckled. “I take it you like them?” His optics shimmer with a knowing smirk. “They are beautiful,” Tiny whispered while admiring his reflection. 

“I made them for you” He hums in delight while running his servo back over his human lover's hip, lightly tracing the bismuth belt piece. “I know I'm not able to gift you inner-Energon as one would normally give a lover due to the toxicity of it. I wanted something personal for you, I grew the Bismuth in my lab using my EM field to shape it. It may not be My inner energon but it is a piece of my spark” 

“Shockwave… I, Gods..” Words seem to fail him. “Fuck now I feel like I should have done something better” He states shyly which makes Shockwave chuckle. “It's not a competition beloved, I wanted you to have a piece of me with you” Tiny slowly pulls out a small Box. “I remembered you talking about the Inner-energon thing ages back and wanted to try and do my twist on it” He pulls out a pendant that fits in his Palm, it's a crimson Red colour and as Shockwave analysis it his optics flickering as he slowly takes the small pendant holding it as if its a very delicate item. The pendant was made of Tiny's blood and resin. “You have know idea how much this means to me” Shockwave stutters holding the small pendant. 

“When I Can I'm going to have it fitted to my helm” he rumbled while pressing a kiss to Tiny's lips, so much emotion Is put into the kiss as the two lovers hold each other despite how their frames differ. As Tiny pulls away from Shockwave he runs his hand down his chassis. “I'd like you to open this for me.” The request is so gentle that it makes Shockwave's vents hitch, thinking for a moment he had misheard Tiny. But when he looks down into those sweet green eyes he does as requested slowly letting it open and show off his spark chamber. 

Tiny's hand slowly moves up towards the beautiful dancing electricity, it makes Shockwave shutter as his servos move to slowly grip Tiny's hands. “Tiny you don't have to do this” he whispers. “I want to Shockwave, I know I don't have a spark but I want to feel your spark” He admits while moving closer. “I know I can't open my chest, but it's the reason I tailored the gown this way, so that your spark could be as close to my heart as possible” those words nearly make Shockwave melt as he whispers something in Cybertronian. 

“We take this Slow, I don't want to overwhelm you” he rumbled while slowly lifting Tiny towards the beautiful swelling collection of light. The moment their chest and spark touch its like pure tranquillity and ecstasy washes over them. To Tiny it felt like the energy of a Tesla coil, static of an electrical storm, but also felt like home and warmth” 

The two bask in each other's fields holding onto each other until they both finally pull away. “Woah, I can see why body's enjoy spark bonding, I think I could get drunk off the feeling” Tiny chimes with A gentle breath. Neither of them know how they got to Shockwave's berth but that's where Tiny laid, sprawled out on soft fabric as his gown fans out making him look almost divine like. 

"I'm yours," Tiny declares. He moves slightly with a sly smile as he bites his lip, shuttering as he feels Shockwave's servo trace down his side, a small moan leaves him as Shockwave traces his chest through the sheer fabric. Shockwave's internal systems hum with a mixture of surprise and arousal as Tiny guides him 

________

Traxies is curled up on his berth but the human Ambassador sits with him. His helm is rested on their lap as they gently polish his crest and final. "Somethings eating at you Traxies, Talk to me sweetheart, what's got you so sad" they state softly. Traxiesshuddered softly as gentle fingers stroked his chevron. 

"I'm...afraid," he whispered, voice rough with static. "When I jumped, I saw Cybertron before the war. It was so beautiful, so peaceful. But then I came back, and it's all gone again. I keep thinking maybe if I go back, I could stop it. Save everyone. and it's killing me inside."  Burrowing closer, he took shuddering vent after vent. "I just want it to stop hurting," Traxiesconfessed in a small voice.

"Oh honey" they whisper, wrapping their arms around his helm while resting their head against him. "I wish I could take it away, we can't change the past sweet boy, all we can do is learn from it" they hum. "Do you want to go back home?, i'm sure we can call Optimus and take a trip back" They inquire, giving the young mech options. "Home..." he murmured, nuzzling into their hold as comfort soaked through struts. "I...do not know. Part of me longs for Iacon's spires, but another part of me wants to be back on earth." 

They chuckle softly. " missing Earth?, I know it must have been hard having to leave cybertron so young, getting used to Earth, going back to new Cybertron And now your on a ship out in the middle of space" they are rather sweet with him, it almost makes him wonder why it seemed to stir his processor with foggy images. 

Traixes' voice softened as more memories rose, bittersweet. "In many ways, it came to feel more home than Cybertron ever had." he can feel the soft inhale and exhale of their smaller body and a small memory flashes through his processor. It's blurry but it's a human holding him cooing and cradling him with a bright smile on their lips. 'Yes Daddy's busy bubba' the young man's voice hums. 

"Traxies honey, I think you should talk with Optimus, Tell him about what's happening. I know you don't like comming him but I think you need to, I don't like seeing you this upset sweet boy, Ratchet's worried about you, so am I,"

"I...think you may be right," he sighed, pulling back just enough, Steeling himself, he sat up and opened a comm. The line rang endlessly, and for an aching moment Traxiesfeared his Sire would not answer. Then, a familiar voice, strong and sure

-:Optimus Prime speaking.:-

Traxies laughed softly, suddenly feeling very young indeed. But he had to try.

 -: Optimus. It's me, Traixes. do you have a moment? There is something… something Wrong:-

 He leaned into the ambassador's embrace once more, The Ambassador stayed sitting there with Traxies, running their hands over his helm as if to soothe him. Traxies doesn't know where to start or what to ask his Sire. "Hello Optimus, Traxies has been having such issues, his Outlier ability has been flaring up" the Ambassador calls out. Traxies cycled a hesitant vent as the ambassador spoke for him, grateful yet anxious. Through the comm, Optimus' deep tone rumbled with concern. 

“Traxies, what seems to be the trouble?.” He calls out over the comm. Traxies found words at last. "When last it flared...I jumped. Into the past, Cybertron, before the war...” He shuddered, burying his faceplates in the ambassador’s embrace as comforting servos stroked his helm reassuringly. A heavy silence followed, then Optimus spoke again, gentle but certain.

“ its alright Traxies your abilities will settle eventually, I know  your afraid.” it didn't really reassure him but it makes him take a moment before bring up the weird memories he was having “Sire I've also been having flashes, seeing a human's face, he's talking to me” he mumbles. 

Optimus’ intake hitches the moment those words leave the young mech. Traxies sensed the shift in Optimus’ demeanour and paused. “I'm sorry I shouldn't have mentioned it” he mumbles quickly. A long silence followed before Optimus spoke again, words heavy with an emotion.

“Traxies, there is something I have kept from you for long vorns, hoping to spare you further pain.” Optimus admitted softly over the comm. It makes Traxies wonder, ‘just who was this blurry human?’ His spark fluttered wildly. “The...human. Did you know him?”

“ His name was...Tiny. He was your carrier, when still I was but a lowly data clerk named Orion Pax. You were his world, before the war, Primus You were still so small when Tiny brought you to me.” Optimus shuttered remembering that cycle as if it was yesterday. 

Traxies reeled. His carrier—a fleshling? And another Mech, his true sire? “How...why was I given to you?” he bluntly asked, sitting up quickly, gasping in the air as if his spark would extinguish.   

“The wars stole them both, as it has so many. But they loved you dearly, and their last wish was for you to be protected, no matter the cost. So I swore to guard your life with my own, and give you a home. It's the reason I raised you with Bumblebee and the Twins. Tiny feared what would happen if anyone was to discover who your Sire was” 

“Who was my Sire!” He nearly shouts, so many emotions run through him, his EM field a mess of static.  

Optimus took a deep vent before answering.  “Shockwave” 

It makes Traxies want to sob, to ask why he had never been told, memories flash of the only time he had ever seen the cyclops like mech, Ratchet had grabbed him before and of the Decepticon could see the young 3rd plated bitlet. There were so many emotions in him. But before Optimus can say anything nor the Ambassador Traxies was out the door of his Hab, transforming and taking off down the hall's comm call ending abruptly.

Traxies Raced through the halls like one possessed, EM field a swirling maelstrom of grief and shock. To have his past, his very identity stolen from him for so long the betrayal cut deeper than any blade. 

Why had Optimus kept this from him? Questions tumbled through Traxies' troubled mind, each bringing fresh waves of hurt. His true sire, Shockwave . How had he come to be the spawn of such a mech?

Lost in a turmoil of emotions, Traxies fell into a reckless dive through the barren fields of Thora 4. All he had known was a lie, leaving only pain in its wake. Was this the fate of all outliers - to live a lie. Exhausted and desperate, Traxies finally pulled from his dive, transforming and hovering amid the rocky giants as stellar winds buffeted his plating. A single, static-laced plea escaped into the void. "Why have you forsaken me...?” he curls in on himself before he begins to violently sob. 

He doesn't realise he's not on the ship anymore, nor that he's no longer sat on Thora 4, when he finally looks up from sobbing he's sat in a field of flowers, lush green grass which is a stark contrast from the asteroid field of Thora 4. Traxies' vents heaved when he finally raised his helm, intending to behold the cold emptiness. 

Earth's familiar aromas and atmosphere soothed frazzled sensors for a brief moment. 

How? He had not intended to jump, lost as he was in anguish's grip. Yet here, halfway across the cosmos, Earth's verdant grace had caught him. 

he collapsed into the soft grasses with a sob, overwrought by this bittersweet haven found by accident. Fingers curled into the petals as coolant poured freely, mingling with dew and pollen. Traxies at last released the tides of sorrow swelling his spark. He wept for the life denied him - for creators taken, for truths left unsaid. 

He doesn't know how long he lays in that grassy field. But he's broken out of his thoughts by the sound of a loud engine and the sound of a transformation Cog followed by the scrapping and clings of metal. His optics meet a much larger shutter mech who eyes him curiously. "Aya hurt Speedsta?" The unknown Mech calls out, 

Traxies jolted back online slowly, senses sluggish from emotional flux. Lifting tear-streaked optics, he beheld the hulking form looming overhead - a mech unlike any he'd seen, bold and unaligned. Fear and confusion pulsed in his field. "Hurt...no, I'm not hurt," Traxies said his vocalizer sounded rough after sobbing. 

 "I...who are you? Where did you come from?" No response came but a metallic scraping, as though the large mech struggled to communicate.

The Shuttler Laughs a hearty laugh. "Ay ya look rather Slagged, names Rattler. Pits Kid you look like you've been through it" he rumbled holding his servos up as he made himself less threatening as he moved closer to the young speedster.

Traxies tensed, but did not retreat as Rattler approached, this strange mech stunned the speedster with his unique design - an Earth mech indeed, yet like none he'd known before.

"Yea.. Found some things out about my past I wasn't ready for - that my whole life's been a lie. Intakes hitched on a fractured sob. "Don't...even know who or what I am anymore. Just had to get away, and somehow ended up here instead." His field flickered with confusion and anguish as dim optics met Rattler's once more. 

"Eh Everyone's runnin from something kid, not often ya see neutral mechs here, best keep yaself hidden if your gonna roam round, got mixed bots planet size ere, doubt ya wanna get dragged into that, Primus ya look like ya fresh in you plating, where's ya guardian?" Rattler asked, quite worried over the young mech on earth by himself.

Traxies field roiling with raw hurt. "No guardian. I...found out my whole life was one big lie. The mech who raised me - he wasn't truly my creator. Hid my true origins, my real sire, from me this whole time." A harsh laugh escaped him. "Turns out, my carrier wasn't even a Cybertronian. Can you believe it?" Chokes out with a fake laugh, pale pink coolant well up in his optics. 

"I had to get away when I learned the truth. Didn't know where to go, so I guess my outlier ability took over. Now I'm stuck here, with no idea who or what I am." His frame shuddered, barely holding back another wave of grief. Traxies looked to the Shuttle mech sitting beside him. 

"Needa plate ta cry on?" The older mech asked while moving closer to the young speedster. Traxies bit back a sob at the offer. Cycling a shuddering vent, he nodded once, blinking away fresh coolant running down his faceplate. 

"Yes, please." His voice emerged ragged, drained bare by the maelstrom within. Traxies did not resist as the massive arm slid beneath his back, nor as the shuttler lifted him tenderly against his plating with surprising care. Exhausted in spirited and frame, Traxies curled weakly into the solid warmth, gouging servos clenching against plating as fresh waves of grief took him. Muffled static-sobs emerged, echoing all the pain of revelations too cruelly borne. 

_________

Tiny stood by Shockwave's side as the Mech finished his last analysis over equipment. In truth they weren't taking much with them, Shockwave wasn't going to risk getting tracked by the DJD from Delphi. "Where are we heading?" Tiny asked, he was clothed in a rather dark hooded coat. Cybernetic leg on display but the rest of his body was covered. 

"To Cybertron," Shockwave replied succinctly, his optic focused on the task at hand. The decision to return to their home world held a sense of purpose and determination, 

Tiny's eye and optic flick to Shockwave as the Decepticon leans down to pick him up. "Why are we going back to cybertron? I thought you said the planet was destroyed in the war." So many questions float around in Tiny's thoughts. 

"Indeed, Cybertron did endure significant devastation during the war, but it has since undergone a process of reconstruction and revitalization," Shockwave began, his tone measured and informative as he addressed Tiny's inquiries. "Returning to Cybertron presents an opportunity to find new information."

As Shockwave lifted Tiny,the cyborg's gaze met the Decepticon's, " we may uncover new insights and discoveries that could shed light on the whereabouts of Optimus Prime and your search for Traxies," Shockwave continued, his words tinged with a hint of anticipation. 

Tiny's eye and optic light up when he hears those words. "Your... you're, but you said they.." His words are a jumbled mix trying to register everything. Shockwave had never looked for Traxies as he was unaware that he was placed in Orion's care. He had believed the senate had offlined their sparkling.

Shockwave observed the flicker of realisation on Tiny's face, the mix of confusion and surprise evident in his reactions. "I... I was not aware of Traxies being placed under Orion's care," Shockwave admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. The realisation that he had been operating under a misconception for so long, that his knowledge had been incomplete, stirred a mix of guilt and regret within the scientist. For all Shockwave knew he could have been responsible for offlining his sparkling unknowingly. 

Tiny moves before he thinks wrapping his arms around Shockwave's helm, hugging him closely, he didn't want to cry, it hurt his optic when he did. "Thank you, thank you" falls from his lips.

Shockwave's systems freeze up at the unexpected physical contact from Tiny, the embrace around his helm stirring a mix of emotions within the scientist. The warmth of the gesture, the gratitude and vulnerability in Tiny's words, touched a chord within Shockwave, prompting a rare flicker of emotion within his logical mind. "You are... welcome, Tiny," Shockwave responded, his voice soft yet resolute. The weight of Tiny's gratitude, the sincerity in his words, reverberated through the space between them, forging a bond of companionship and understanding that defied the confines of logic and reason.

In that moment Shockwave sees glimpses of his conjunx from before the war, Tiny from before the fall of everything, the sweet and beautiful human. It makes Shockwave's spark ache but he vows to himself that they would find out what happened to Traixes.

_____

Here's some art of what Rattler looks like

____

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