#-directly earlier in element

[seishun-emergency]

violence maiming killing biting etc

[000marie198]

When you have a very strong one-sided grudge against a specific videogame franchise both your brothers are big fans of because it won't stop copying everything from different folklores and cultures and mythologies and history and stories of specific places

[ayakashibackstreet]

Working your ass off on your thesis for like 3 hours, only to realise that the work you were doing, while useful, also didn't exactly contribute to your word count.......

[zvaigzdelasas]

Speaking to reporters, Netanyahu insisted that there was no alternative to “complete victory” over Hamas in Gaza.

Netanyahu’s hawkish response came hours after he met with US Secretary of State Antony Blinken[...] Blinken said later that there was still a path to a deal.

The Hamas proposal envisaged a three-stage process over four-and-a-half months, during which Israeli troops would gradually withdraw from the enclave, hostages would be released and Palestinian prisoners in Israel would be freed, according to a copy of the group’s counteroffer obtained by CNN.[...]

Israel’s aim was “complete victory” in Gaza, Netanyahu said. “The victory is achievable; it’s not a matter of years or decades, it’s a matter of months.”

In a late-night press conference in Tel Aviv, Blinken suggested negotiations could still move forward, saying he believed Netanyahu’s “delusional” remark referred to specific elements of the Hamas proposals that were unacceptable.[...]

Hamas had proposed a three-phase deal, each lasting 45 days, that would also see the gradual release of hostages held in the enclave in exchange for Palestinian prisoners in Israel – including those serving life sentences – as well as the start of a massive humanitarian and rebuilding effort.

Contrary to earlier demands, Hamas did not call for an immediate end to the war. Negotiations for a permanent ceasefire would take place during the truce and the remaining hostages would only be released once a final deal to end the war was agreed, the document said.[...]

Netanyahu has pledged not to stop the campaign until Israel destroys Hamas once and for all.[...]

The Israeli former hostage Adina Moshe criticized Netanyahu, saying there “won’t be any hostages to release” if his government continued its plan to completely eliminate Hamas.[...]

The Hostages and Missing Families Forum Headquarters also delivered a message directly to Netanyahu and the Israeli War Cabinet in a press release on Wednesday. “If the hostages are not returned home: the citizens of Israel should know they live in a state that is not committed to their security, that the mutual responsibility in it has died,” the families forum said. “They who do not protect their citizens will find that their citizens lose faith in them and their leadership.”

7 Feb 24

[ovaryacted]

Rookie Mistakes

Pairing: RE2!Leon x Sergeant fem!Reader

Summary: When Leon seems distracted and makes a mistake during a call, you ensure your rookie gets his head together as his sergeant.

Content/Warnings: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn with plot. Dom/sub elements. Femdom/msub. Praise kink. Slight degradation. Needy/subby Leon. Oral sex. Fingering. Handjob. Office Sex. Slight age gap (reader is older at around 25, Leon is 21).

WC: 4.7k

Notes: Finally this is out. I know I know, I'm a liar! But, I had fun with this one, so I hope you like it. Shoutout to the babe @cinnarette for beta reading this and giving me her approval lolz. Anyways, reblogs & comments are always appreciated!

Leon had always been one to find the good in a shitty situation. Someone with a warm heart that matched the moral compass he developed despite the constant bullshit he experienced daily.

From his hectic childhood to his experiences in the police academy, he had to overcome many trials and tribulations on his own with nobody in his corner. All of those struggles to get the pure sense of relief once he felt his diploma in his hand made all the stress worth it.

When he first arrived at the R.P.D., he didn’t know what to expect. The anxiety of starting fresh in a new city with a new career clouded his mind with a paranoia he seemed to carry in his youth. Walking into the police department he’d call his new home, Leon was fairly surprised to be greeted with a welcome party.

Balloons and confetti filled the common room as he moved around the crowd, bombarded with introductions and greetings as he tried to memorize the names that were thrown his way. Still, the small games and blue cake he indulged in brought a smile to his face, topped off with the polka-dotted party hat he was forced to wear and the words Welcome Leon hung up on the ceiling for him to see.

What Leon didn’t expect was to be assigned to your personal detail the next day. A police sergeant on the force, a bit older, no more than 25 he first assumed, more refined and seasoned with one hell of a glare. First impressions? He was terrified, nervous as hell to fuck anything up seeing how you ran a tight ship, taking your job too seriously for comfort. Of course, you had to. You were working in a male-dominated field, forcing yourself into a mold so you could be taken seriously by those around you.

He took his hand out when being introduced to you, unstable grip and a nervous smile to match as he looked directly into your intimidating gaze. You shook his hand firmly, the strength of your grasp parallel with the small grin you offered him almost made a shiver roll down his spine.

“So you’re the new rookie huh? Well, it’s nice to see a fresh face in here. We have some serious work to do. Let’s get started.”

-

You were particular about how you wanted things done, very precise in your words and your delivery. A harsh leader, one who easily reprimanded the other rookie officers but was particularly picky with Leon. In a way, he started to feel like you were targeting him, pressuring him so he would crack and leave the force. He knew he couldn’t leave, that this was the career path he chose, and he was too anxious to say anything so he’d let it slide.

You didn’t let up on his training either, always making sure your rookie was on top of what was expected of him. The slight fear Leon had when first meeting you quickly turned into admiration. His stress-induced feelings morphed into respect, now wanting to learn everything you had to show him.

That was when it started. Leon now tried any little thing to get in your good graces, to see even the slightest sign of a smile or to hear you laugh. He started coming to work earlier to help with the case filings you had piled on your desk, organizing them the way you taught him whenever you assigned him grunt work. He wanted you to take a breather and start your day with a clear head, maybe even enjoy your coffee for a bit longer.

When you saw how tidy your work environment was, you went up to Leon who you saw was typing away at his desk diligently. His head lifted up to look at you, blue eyes glancing over your face to read your expression.

“Morning. By any chance, did you fix all the files on my desk?”, you asked curiously, making the blonde rub the back of his neck shyly.

“Yeah, I did. Wanted to help you out a bit and give you an early start to the day” he responded, silently hoping you wouldn’t be upset at him for entering your workspace. Instead, he was met with your look of genuine surprise, followed by a twinkle of gratitude.

“Thank you for that, I appreciate it. Keep up the good work Leon”, you praised him, offering a small smile, one that he made sure to burn into his memory.

“Yes ma’am”, his face was practically beaming at your words as he watched you walk back towards your office, trying to hide the sudden warmth flooding his cheeks.

Your words kept repeating in his head nonstop throughout the entire day. Not only did you acknowledge him in a positive light, you also addressed him by name, which was rare. He was more present at work, his posture straighter, and more eager to help. From that point on, he made it his mission to make sure his sergeant was stress-free, doing anything to see you smile at him again.

Working with Leon, you quickly learned that he was perceptive. A smart cookie, and probably the smartest one out of the current bunch of recruits. Despite the tough love you gave him, especially because he was your professional responsibility, he was the only one truly receptive to your teachings. Like a sponge, he took in everything you gave with a certain wonder you hadn’t seen in anyone else. It was cute really, how he was so ambitious and doing his best to get your approval.

What you liked the most about working with Leon was how he addressed you. He took your authority seriously, seeing someone in charge instead of your appearance. He didn’t say your name, not your first or last out of respect, but rather he always addressed you as Ma’am. You never had someone say that to you directly, thinking it makes you sound older than you actually are. But with the way his eyes warmed up when he’d say it with full confidence, you didn’t have it in you to tell him to stop.

-

Over the next few weeks, Leon became part of your daily routine, integral to the start of your day. He’d walk in a few minutes early as expected, with two coffee cups in his hands as he waited for you outside your office. Spotting the top of your head coming from speaking to the chief, you were heading his way. You had the same soft smile reserved just for him, one that he always looked forward to seeing when you worked together.

“Got you your usual”, he offered one of the cups to you, your fingers lightly grazing his when taking the warm concoction into your hand.

“Extra caramel?”

“With oat milk, vanilla and cinnamon. I triple checked”, he said enthusiastically, observing you as you sipped the drink. A soft hum escaped you while you closed your eyes in satisfaction.

“You know how to spoil me”, you gave him a wider smile now, seeing how his cheeks blushed the slightest bit at your expression. His reaction made you chuckle, a sound he’s come to enjoy the more time you two spent together. 

“Now come on, we need to work on this case before we patrol at 12. The chief’s on my ass again so let’s get this over with before lunch yeah?”, and without fail, he’d give you the same ending response every time.

“Yes ma’am”

The more you invested in Leon’s skills, the more you realized small things about him that were fairly telling. You weren’t stupid. Anyone with a brain could see that the respect and admiration he had for you was turning into something else entirely. You could tell with every passing moment you had with him, noticing how the tension between the two of you would get thicker after every interaction. You didn’t comment on it. Instead, you enjoyed toying with him, a part of your ego feeding off on how he’d say yes ma’am in such a way that would make you want to hear it more often.

The faint touches between the two of you got more frequent. Your fingers would brush his during the exchange of files, you saw how he’d always be within a hair’s distance when standing near you. Moments spent training in the shooting range were where the intimacy seemed to skyrocket, putting your hands on Leon’s arms to keep his form up as he shot towards his target.

You didn’t need to do that. Leon was a good shot, accurate too. But you enjoyed the way he released a shaky breath whenever you were close to him or touched him, how the tips of his ears reddened when you praised him for hitting the bullseye.

In one certain instance when the R.P.D. was extra busy, you were being hammered with files and administrative work. The coffee sitting on your desk was no longer doing its job of waking you up, and the constant bombardment of having to organize new information was starting to make your head pulse. You stood up from your seat to give your back a break, bending backward until you felt a satisfying crack in your spine. Hearing a knock at your door that brought your attention, you noticed Leon on the opposite end.

“Hey, my bad if I caught you at a bad time. The investigators wanted to review those files on that drug bust we did yesterday, something about missing information”

“Oh yeah yeah, it’s right behind me. Hell, I don’t even know where I put it”, you turned to face the mess behind you, lamenting at the stack of files you have yet to sort through today.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll look for it. You stay focused on what you’re doing”

Just like that, Leon came over behind you, going through the files while you stayed reading over the papers in your hand. The both of you made quick conversation, commenting on how busy it became. The increase of instances flooding the department only added more to your workload. Leon kept digging through the pile, turning his body to go to the other side of you.

In the process, he put a hand on your hip and muttered an apology, slightly making you jump and walking behind you to go to your left side. You tried to pay no mind to the gentle touch, going back to refocusing on the case at hand. He found the document folders he needed, suddenly too close to your body when the second he turned, you moved backward into him. Leon’s hips pressed against your rear, his hands reaching toward your hips instinctively despite the hitch in his breath at the contact.

“S-shit, I’m sorry…”, he mumbled, cheeks flushed red as he walked out of your office. You didn’t get a word in, but his reaction was enough to tell you about what you already knew.

The ghost of his touch filled your mind for the rest of the day, and it was worse for Leon. He tried so hard not to think about it. Not to fantasize about how your hips would feel bouncing against his with force, what you’d sound like when you’re aroused. It was practically impossible for him. His imagination went haywire the second he got home, jerking himself off to relieve the hard-on he’s been managing since earlier this afternoon.

He couldn’t get the image out of his head. He thought about how you’d praise him, call him a good boy for making you feel good. Deep down, he wondered if you were equally as authoritative in the bedroom as you were outside of it. As he released all over his hands with a whine, he sighed to himself, fully aware that he had reached the point of no return with his own thoughts about you. 

-

It was a Tuesday afternoon when both of you were assigned to handle two suspects committing a robbery. Called to the scene, you trailed them down to a nearby commercial street. They were careless too, throwing their guns halfway into the chase and the items they stole slipping from their grasp onto the concrete floor. Catching them felt easy, handcuffing one to the ground and throwing him to the backseat of your cop car. Leon seemed to be distracted, with what you didn’t know. When the second thief seemed to slip from his grasp and started to make a run for it, you knew he needed to get his act together.

“Get your head out of your ass Kennedy! Before I put my foot up there instead. Now move!”, you ordered him to get back into the patrol car. Turning on the police siren, you drove to track down the next suspect and apprehended them with quickness.

The drive to the station was quiet besides the two handcuffed men grumbling behind you. Leon kept his mouth shut, refusing to look your way, and focused on listening to the chatter on the radio. He knew you were pissed, and he didn’t know what had gotten into him today but he couldn’t focus for the life of him. The nagging voice in the back of his mind was telling him to be prepared for the worst, because he fucked up, and worse yet, he fucked up with you.

After bringing the two robbers down to the precinct, you couldn’t erase the irritation from your face. You couldn’t even look at Leon, upset that someone like him after so much training made such a rookie mistake. You only offered a glare, knowing for a fact you’d have to talk to him later on when your temper wasn’t so flared up. For now, you made Leon sit at his desk to do filing work, deciding not to berate him in front of the other officers and saving him the embarrassment.

Knowing you were giving him the silent treatment, he avoided you for the rest of the day, staying late at the R.P.D. in hopes of being able to talk to you. Leon drummed his fingers on his desk absentmindedly, until you came up behind him and got his attention.

“Kennedy, to my office. Now”, your tone of voice was harsh, making the hairs on Leon’s neck rise as he got up to follow you back to your workspace.

You locked the door once the both of you were inside, leaning back against your desk with your tactical belt off so your hips pressed against the wooden edge. Arms crossed over your chest, your head raised at the cop before you, watching his feet anxiously moving as he looked at the floor with slight shame.

“I want to know what happened out there. You messed up, and that’s not like you. You don’t make rookie mistakes anymore, we’re passed that”, you started to speak. Leon’s gaze was pinned on you, trying to hide his humiliation but it was clear as day.

“I know. I know I fucked up, it was a stupid mistake. I’m sorry”

“Yeah, it was. I didn’t invest all this time in training you personally for you to let things like this slip. You’re better than this, you know that”, your tone changed from irritation to concern, trying to get him to see the bigger picture.

“You’re my responsibility, Leon. I’m this harsh and this strict for a reason, and it’s because I care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t give a shit what happened to you, but I do. This reflects back on me, so just get your head together alright?”, you saw how his brows furrowed a bit in slight confusion at your confession.

You cared about him.

“Yes ma'am. It won’t happen again, I really am sorry”, his hands started to fumble with his tactical belt.

“I know you are, but sorry’s not gonna cut it. I can’t have you distracted like this. Not on my watch”, you said, now walking from the desk until you stood in front of him. He didn’t move a muscle, not knowing what else to do besides stand there.

“If you’re really sorry you’re going to have to prove it. You’re not getting off that easy. You got that rookie?”, your eyes held that intimidating stare that made Leon tense, you could practically hear him gulp. 

“I-I understand ma’am. Whatever it takes I’ll do it.”, he was still oblivious, having no idea what he just got himself into but he wasn’t complaining, not when you were this close to him. Your hand went up towards his belt, a singular finger curving into one of the loops to yank his body forward. Now standing chest to chest he shivered at the close contact, holding his breath and waiting for your next words.

“You’re gonna use your pretty mouth to prove that you won’t mess up like that again. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll think about being nice and rewarding you. That okay?”, your words were laced with pure temptation, making Leon nod, too scared to speak up. He didn’t know what to expect, but lord if he wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t enjoying it. 

“Use your words baby”

“Yeah, f-fuck it’s okay”, he was shaking in front of you, a blush on his cheeks so intense you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

“Can I kiss you?”, you tilted your head up towards him, his warm breath against your lips as the ends of your noses touched.

“Please do…”

You didn’t waste another second, lips colliding against his as Leon finally released the breath he was holding. He let you take control, his mind turning to complete mush at just the feel of your mouth against his. Tongues dancing together, you ran your fingers through his hair, his own hands going to paw at your hips. He released needy faint moans, holding on to you as if you were going to leave him any second now. When you pulled away from him and bit his bottom lip he whimpered, a sound you didn’t expect him to make. You fucking loved it.

You walked backward while he followed you on jittery legs. With your back now pressed against the desk again, Leon’s face dug into your neck, leaving a path of kisses in a way that made you chuckle. His hands were everywhere, overwhelmed with what to do or where to touch. You brought your fingers into his hair again, giving him a soft yank as he groaned out from the action. Pupils already dilated, you eyed him closely, how he seemed so far gone when you haven’t even started.

“You want to be good for me Leon?”, your voice was soft, almost patronizing and it only made Leon’s dick pulse in his pants.

“Yes, I wanna be good for you. Don’t want you mad at me”, Leon pouted, and you fought the urge to kiss him again.

“Then get on your knees and start working on your apology”, you commanded, watching how he bit his lip and nodded.

“Yes ma’am”, he was already shifting down to the ground, diligent fingers on the button of your cargos and undoing them, while you threw your shoes off.

Pulling the zipper down, he started to drag the fabric to your knees until it hit your ankles, pants discarded to the side and leaving you in your panties. Sitting on top of the desk, his eyes looked up at yours, coming face to face with where you wanted him most.

His large hands moved from your shin to your knee, then towards your thigh and hip to hook his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, noting the wet patch that was already staining the cotton material. He dragged them down with ease until they hung at your ankle, lifting one of your thighs onto his shoulders to admire all of you with a soft moan.

“Can I taste you? Please?”, he mumbled against your thigh with a soft kiss. He was already playing the part so well, offering him a smirk as you drank in the way he begged you for more. You didn’t even have you train him.

“Yeah baby, you can”

Without hesitation, his mouth made contact with your body, the taste of your wetness filling his tongue and making his chest rumble. It was better than he imagined, moving his tongue up and down against your slit to collect the developing slick. You released a low hum from your lips, already pent up from the stress of your job and your day, now having your favorite rookie tending to you on your orders.

Leon was anything if not keen, tongue lavishing against your throbbing clit and his lips circling around it as he began to suck. You threw your head back at that, hand holding his head in place and hips moving towards him shamelessly. He was grunting under his breath, growing obsessed with the way your body twitched anytime he touched you just right. 

“You’re doing so good Leon, so damn good for me”, you praised him again, feeling the sounds he’d release when you did talk to him. It was debauched, how his senses were filled with just you with no end in sight.

This was how you wanted to see him. On his knees and eager to please.

His attention went back to your opening, feeling it flex around nothing with every flick he gave you. Inserting his tongue into your cunt, your hips arched towards him again, moaning louder than you anticipated.

You were silently thankful your office was a bit farther away from the rest of the department, and being it was later at night, you didn’t have to hide much of anything. You moved Leon’s face closer to your body with a pull of his head, clit pressed against his nose as he sucked at your essence greedily, taking in everything he could get. 

A warmth started to develop in your gut, pleasure like liquid fire making your body twitch. The high you so desperately craved was in near sight, grinding yourself against Leon’s face and using him to get off. He didn’t object, moving his mouth to suck at your clit again, two fingers teasing your entrance before inserting them inside. You cursed under your breath, the dual sensation of Leon’s fingers curling against your g-spot and his consistent sucking brought you closer to your much-needed climax.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum”, you could almost taste your release right at the edge of your tongue, could imagine the way it would feel to finally let go.

You looked down to watch Leon at work, how he’d pump his fingers at just the right pace, how his eyes grew hazy with pleasure when they looked up at you.

With one soft nip at your clit your release hit you full force, a small squeal leaving your lips as your gummy walls clenched around his fingers. Your grip on the desk and his hair were both tight, knuckles turned white as stars filled your vision. Leon kept moving his fingers and mouth the whole way through your orgasm, groaning loudly against you and refusing to stop. He couldn’t get enough of you or your taste, forcing you to pull his head away before the overstimulation made it too much to handle.

The both of you were panting, eyes widening when Leon pulled his digits away and inserted them into his mouth to lick off what remained of you. You pulled him up towards his feet, dragging him down to kiss you again and chasing your own taste that flooded his tongue. If you weren’t on a time crunch, you would’ve gladly let him go down on you again.

“Did I do good ma'am? Do you feel good?”, Leon asked, thumbs rubbing your trembling thighs as you came down from your high, flushed face waiting for your approval.

“Yes, you were so fucking good for me. You ate my pussy so well”, your words made him smile then, a dopey lopsided grin that seemed to ease his doubts from earlier.

“I think you deserve a little reward now. You want some help with that pretty boy?”, your eyes gestured to the tent in Leon’s pants, looking up at him from your long lashes.

“God, please touch me”, he begged then, blue eyes engulfed in pure lust.

You didn’t want to tease him any longer, undoing his pants and slipping your hand inside. With a gasp he felt your fingers wrapping around his cock that pulsated with need, knowing it wouldn’t take him long to cum either. He had been on the edge for too long, imagining you like this for what seemed like months. You pumped him, twisting your wrist and pressing your thumb against his slit, feeling the precum that was already making a mess in his briefs. 

“You get hard when you have your superior’s pussy in your face huh? You like being used like that baby?”

“Y-yes, yes I do. God I fucking love it”, he nodded dumbly. “Love the way you taste, the way you feel…”, he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, mind so blurred with just you that he was losing track of time and himself.

You smirked, kissing his neck and pressing your lips against the mole on his throat. Leon swallowed, hands pressing into your thighs for stability but he was so close to losing it. He thrusts his hips up into your hand, chasing his own high and you gladly let him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and biting at the lobe. The sounds Leon released were downright pornographic, whines and lewd wet sounds filling your office. 

“S-shit I’m gonna cum. Can I cum? Please ma'am, I’m so close”, he begged again, his cock throbbing and hot in your hand as he spoke. He bucked his hips more into your squeezing fingers, your pace picking up as you jerked him off more persistently. He felt like he could barely breathe, the prickly feeling in his lower spine getting more prominent the closer he got to his orgasm.

“Be a good boy and cum for me Leon. I want to see you cum baby”, it was your final order, and those words alone were his undoing.

His body shook above you when he fell over the edge, his lower stomach flexing hard as he came all over your fingers. He cursed and whimpered, an array of thank yous were said against your neck, hands pressed into your thighs hard enough to bruise your skin. His cum dribbled out of him as his body jerked, still pumping him to the point of sensitivity. He clutched your wrist to signal you to stop, half-lidded eyes looking at yours that filled with mischief.

You took your hand off of him and licked the remaining fluids, purring at the taste of him filling your mouth. Leon bit his lip when watching you, already starting to feel his dick twitch again for more.

He leaned down towards you, kissing you hard and chasing his taste, just like how you did with him. The eroticness of it all overwhelmed him, rasping against you as you pulled away. You looked over his face, cheeks flushed pink and lips plump from their usage. You burn that image into your mind, saving it for later when it would be more helpful. 

“No more distractions or mistakes from here on out Leon. You come to me if you need to clear your head. Understood?”, he released a dry chuckle, placing another kiss against your lips, much softer than before. The intimacy made your chest warm, your smile matching his own.

“Yes ma’am”

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[evertomorrowart]

Best of YouTube 2023

Yes, I did spend the first week and change of January on this. I wish I could have had it done for New Years, but too many people came out with incredible work in December, so waiting turned out for the best.

What these creators do are a huge influence on my life, I would honestly have difficulty doing what I do without them. That isn't to say that my favorites of the year are *only* on this image--It was almost impossible to narrow down my favorites. Many creators I wanted to include couldn't fit on a single page, and too many of them made more than one video I wished I could draw too!

But, to all of you, thank you for what you do. You're an inspiration.

For those who don't know, further is an explanation.

At the bottom center is an artistic masterpiece by Defunctland: "Journey to EPCOT Center: A Symphonic History." Over the last several years, Defunctland has risen from delightfully-entertaining commentary on decommissioned theme park attractions to occasionally dropping profound statements on the creation of art itself. "Journey to EPCOT Center: A Symphonic History" is worth treating like the cinematic experience it is: No second screen, you sit your ass down in front of a TV, set down the phone, and then you *watch it.* Any Disney, theme park, or independent film fan needs to pay attention to this one.

Bottom left is Caelan Conrad with their piece "Drop the T - The Deadly Consequences of Gay Respectability Politics." While I do think they've done more visually or artistically-daring pieces before, "Drop the T" is one of the most important videos released on YouTube in today's current climate of hate. We as queer folk (and our allies) need to understand how integral every identity of the queer experience has been since the start of the Civil Rights movement (and before!). While we are not identical, we *are* inseparable, and we deserve having our real history easily accessible.

TERFs and other conservative mouthpieces need not reply. Your opinions are trash. 😘

I cannot stop watching and rewatching this video by @patricia-taxxon, "On the Ethics of Boinking Animal People." It's not just a defense of furry fandom and its eccentricities, it's a thoughtful and passionate analysis of what the artform achieves that purely human representation can't. Patricia goes outside of her usual essay format to directly speak to the viewer about the elements that define furry media (the most succinct definition I've ever heard) and just how *human* an act loving animal cartoons really is.

As an artist who can draw furry characters, but never really got into erotic furry art, this video is a treasure. Why did I choose to have her drawn as a Ghibli character, hanging out with one of the tanukis from "Pom Poko?" Guess you'll have to watch, bruh.

Philosophy Tube continuously puts out videos that I would put on this list--I'm not even sure that "A Man Plagiarised my Work: Women, Money, and the Nation" is the best work she released in 2023. However, this video got many conversations going between myself and my partner, and the twist on the tail end of the video shocked us both to such a degree that I had no choice.

At the very tail end of the year, Big Joel released "Fear of Death." On his Little Joel channel, he described it as the singularly best video he's ever done, and I'm inclined to agree. However, for this illustration, I ended up repeatedly going back to a mini-series he did earlier in the year: "Three Stories at the End of the World." All three videos are deeply moving and haunting, and I was brought to tears by "We Must Destroy What the Bomb Cannot." While it may be relatively-common knowledge that the original Gojira (Godzilla) film is horror grappling with the devastation America's rush to atomic dominance inflicted on Japan, Big Joel still manages to bring new words to the discussion. Please watch all three of the videos, but if, for some reason, you must have only one, let it be "We Must Destroy What the Bomb Cannot."

Y'all. Let me confess something. I hate football. I hate watching it, I associate seeing it from the stadiums with some of my worst childhood experiences, I despise collegiate and professional football (as institutions that destroy bodies and offer up children at the feet of its alter as a pillar of American culture)--

I. L o a t h e. Football.

But.

F.D. Signifier could get me to watch an entire hour-plus essay on why I should at least give a passing care. AND HE DID IT. I might think "F*ck the Police," the two-parter on Black conservatism, or his essay on Black men's connection to anime might be "better" videos, but this writer did the impossible and held my limited attention span towards football long enough to make a sincere case for NFL players--and reminds us that millionaires can *in fact* be workers. That alone is testament to his skill.

Sit down and watch "The REAL Reason NFL Running Backs Aren't Getting Paid." Any good anti-capitalist owes it to themselves.

CJ the X continuously puts out stunning, emotional videos, and can do it with the most seemingly-inconsequential starting points. A 30 second song? An incestuous commercial? Five minutes of Tangled? Sure, why not. Go destroy yourself emotionally by watching them. I'm serious. Do it.

Their video Stranger Things and the Meaning of Life manages to to remind us all why the way we react to media does, in fact, matter. Yes, even nostalgia-driven, mass-media schlock. Yes, how we interact with media matters, what it says about us matters, and we all deserve to seek out the whys.

Folding Ideas has spent the last few years articulating exactly why so much of our modern world feels broken, and because of that his voice continuously lives rent-free in my brain. While the tricks that scam artists and grifters use to try to swindle us are never new, the advancement of technology changes the aesthetics of their performances. Portions of Folding Ideas' explanations might seem dry when going into detail of how stocks work in This is Financial Advice, but every bit of it is necessary to peel back the layers of techno-babble and jargon and make sense of the results of "Meme Stocks."

Jessie Gender puts out nothing but bangers, her absolute unit of a video about Star Wars might be my new favorite thing ever, but none of her work hit so profoundly in 2023 than the two-parter "The Myth of 'Male Socialization'" and "The Trauma of Masculinity." There's so much about modern life that isolates and traumatizes us, and so much of it is just shrugged off as "normal." We owe it to ourselves to see the world in more vivid a color palette than we're initially given.

Panels drawn after Kate Beaton and "Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands."

"This is Not a Video Essay" is one of the most intense and beautiful pieces of art I've ever put into my eyeballs. Why do we create? What drives us to connect?

I don't even know what else to say about the Leftist Cooks' work, it repeatedly transcends the medium and platform. Watch every single one of their videos, but especially this one.

The likelihood you are terminally online and yet haven't heard of Hbomberguy's yearly forrays into destroying the careers of awful people is pretty slim. Just because it has millions of views doesn't mean that Hbomberguy's "Plagiarism and You(Tube)" isn't worth the hype. Too long? Shut up, it has chapters and YouTube holds your place, anyway. You think a deep dive into a handful of creators is only meaningless drama? Well, you're wrong, you wrong-opinion-haver. Plagiarism is an *everyone* problem because of the actual harm it creates--the history it erases, the labor it devalues, the art it marginalizes--which you would know if you watched "Plagiarism and You(Tube)".

Watch. The damn. Video.

In fact, watch all of them!

Thanks for reading this if you did.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 12

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You wake up shivering. The AC blasts over your bare legs and speckles across your skin. You roll over as your skull rattles. Your left eye twitches as you sit up and hug the pillow against your middle for warmth. 

For a second, you’re at your dad’s house; the next you’re in the cabin; and at last, you come back to the present. 

Andy’s voice rolls in a low timbre but you can’t make out his words. His tone is dire and has you stumbling to your feet. Something’s wrong. Your dad! 

You follow it to the kitchen and find him with his hand to his ear. He’s on the phone with someone. Your phone. You blink as you stare at your pearl case. He nods in recognition and wraps up the call. He comes around the square island and offers you the cell. 

“It kept going off.” He explains. 

“Was it the hospital? Is dad okay?” You nearly snatch it away. 

“No, no. I called earlier. He’s going through some tests and exercises.” He crosses his arms and leans on the counter. “That was the insurance company.” 

“Insurance?” You cringe and lower your hand to your side. You squeeze the phone tight. 

“I know, shouldn’t have touched it but you were out and I was concerned. You got enough on your plate.” 

“What-- what did they say? Why did they call?” You demand. 

Did they change their mind? What there something else you can do? Andy purses his lips and rubs along the angle of his jaw, his other hand still folded over his chest. 

“Claim denied. You’ll have to deal directly with the hospital for payment.” He exhales and frowns. “Those kinda bills are never easy. I know it well. A lot to deal with on top of everything else.” 

“Yeah, I... I spoke with them before but... I haven’t had time to figure out—I could get a credit card? Or a loan? Maybe. I don’t have anything on my credit so...” You shrug and shake your head. “It’s not your problem.” 

“But I can help.” 

You flinch at his offer. You scoff and wave the phone at him. “No, no. You’ve done so much. More than enough. I couldn’t... couldn’t ask that. No. No.” You’re arguing with yourself as much as him. “I can do this. I’m an adult and it’s my responsibility. I’ll... I’ll drop out. Dad has my tuition in savings. I’ll have to look over his accounts and--” 

“What about the nurse? The physio? The counseling?” Andy asks. 

You freeze and stare at him. You shiver again but not because you’re cold. You grimace and move your lips wordlessly. 

“This isn’t just a hospital stay, sweetheart. This is going to be a long recovery. It could even be the rest of his life.” 

His grim tone sinks into your stomach and you feel sick. You press a hand to your cheek and nod. You roll your eyes up in an effort to bid back the tears. 

“I know. I’ll... I’ll figure it out. I will. I can... I have to.” You turn way to hide your mounting distress.

You don’t think you can do all of this. You didn’t think about tomorrow or the next day or next month or next year. What do you do when the savings run out? You don’t even know how much your dad has? 

“You don’t have to do it alone. I could--” 

“Why would you help?” You spin to face him. “I’m young and scared but I’m not naive. No one just helps someone like that. Someone they barely know. Even my mom--” You choke back a sob and steady yourself. 

“Your dad’s my friend.” 

“Yeah, for what? A couple of years?” You put the heel of your hand and the butt of your phone to your temples. 

“You’re a nice girl. I wanna help.” 

“Why?” You ask. 

“Because you shouldn’t have to do this alone.” 

“No, why did you answer the phone?” Tendrils creep up your back and wrap around your neck. You drop your arms. “Why... why did you rent this house? Why are you doing all of this?” 

“You need it--” 

“Answer my question. I can’t-- I can’t handle anything else.” You snap. “I’ve been so distracted, so swept up in it all that I didn’t stop to think why a fifty-year old man is doing all of this?” 

He’s quiet as your heart thumps and you look him in the face. He stares back and a line forms in his forehead as his cheek dimples. The silver at his temples is more obvious and the speckle in his beard as well. This man is your father’s age. He might be a neighbour and a friend but your dad isn’t exactly the nicest guy. 

“I do want to help.” He speaks at last. The lilt in his voice says it all. All your suspicions coil tightly in your chest. “I could help. I could take care of you and your dad. I would--” 

“Jesus. Are you serious?” You warble through the swell in your throat. “It’s... no, no, not that. How—you could be my father?! Your son--” 

“I’m not your father.” He insists tersely. “And I’m not too old.” 

“Oh god!” You hit your head in frustration. “I’m so stupid. I’m so goddamn stupid. How could I—but why would I ever--” You rant wildly as you pace around frantically. You spin and face the walls and examine every inch. “I-- I’m already fucked. I’m--” 

Your legs shake and you wobble around. You stagger into the door frame and cling to it. You heave, a sharp whistle rising from your throat with each crushing breath. Your tears roll down your cheeks and you slide down to your knees. You claw at your neck as the air snags in your throat. 

“Sweetheart,” Andy nears and kneels. He touches your back and you flinch. “You gotta breathe. You’re having a panic attack.” 

“Y-yeah. I—ammmmm.” You squeak as your vision swims and you grip the door frame tightly. 

“It’s okay.” He coaxes and rubs between your shoulders. 

“No-” 

“I’m not asking for much--” 

Your head pulses and you sit back on your heels. Your look at him in a flume of rage and horror. You slap his shoulder. Once, twice, again. Then you shove him away from you. You sob and fall forward onto your hands and shake in a storm of grief. 

This can’t be real. You just need your dad. You need him to hug you and tell you it’s going to be okay. 

[respectthepetty]

As a petty person, I'm proud that Yuan is going to play it as if he isn't still desperately in love with Qian and didn't pack his bags the second Qian told him that he could come home, but it would be far more convincing if Yuan took off that damn black bracelet.

It's like another character, haunting every scene and every interaction

staring me in my face and hurting my feelings because it's a constant reminder that Yuan is still connected to Qian even though they are separated.

So I felt it's absence in the scene where Yuan finally got to speak to Qian after three (four?) years of silence.

Yuan's left hand was never shown which is the wrist he wears the bracelet on. He held the phone with his right just like Qian who holds the phone with his right and wears a watch on the left.

But what's important is the red stairs on Qian's left.

I'm a color demon, but this is about the black bracelet on Yuan's left wrist missing from this scene when it was in the previous one of Yuan talking on the phone earlier in the episode.

In some countries, wedding rings are worn on the right hand. In other countries, wedding rings are worn on the left hand because it was believed that there was a vein that went directly from the left hand to the heart (awwww).

So perhaps Yuan didn't need the bracelet in this moment because the line that connected him to his heart (Qian) was present in another way.

But in Taiwan, wedding rings are worn on hands based on gender. Men wear theirs on the left and women wear theirs on the right. Beyond the gender element of it though is the simple notion that married couples wear their rings on opposite hands.

Yuan has been wearing this bracelet as if it was a silent commitment to Qian for all these years, and he continues to wear it upon his return.

But Qian gave him that bracelet!

Yuan wanted to be tied to Qian. He made that clear when Qian was tying his left hand in the red wrap.

So I loved that when Yuan returned and went to pick up Qian, he grabbed Qian with his left hand rather than his right which was the closer hand.

And when Yuan finally decides to walk away from Qian because he thinks Qian pities him, Qian will grab Yuan's left wrist to stop him.

As if he reinforcing that silent reminder, but not the one of Yuan always carrying Qian with him.

The silent reminder is the one that Qian gave Yuan his heart first.

That black bracelet is just as much about how Yuan still loves Qian as much as it is about how Qian has always loved Yuan.

Qian has always been committed to Yuan, silently.

And there were reminders throughout the entire episode.

Qian read every single message.

Qian didn't want to mess up Yuan's education.

Qian is never not thinking about Yuan because everything is a constant silent reminder of Yuan. His gift to Yuan was meant to serve as a reminder to Yuan that someone out there was thinking of him because Qian is always thinking of Yuan. That bracelet is a tangible artifact of what resides in Qian's heart.

And Yuan wants to remind him of that.

[seramilla]

So how would Vaggie react to learning she’s now wrapped up in an arranged marriage? And since this is before she falls…does that mean Charlie is in her emo phase still??

Vaggie is really intimidated at being betrothed to the literal princess of Hell. Of course, she knows who Charlie is -- there isn't a person in Heaven or Hell who doesn't. Some years past, however, in her late teens, Charlotte Morningstar had gained somewhat of a reputation for being a rebel. Before she graduated from Hell High School, the Heaven tabloids used to publish stories of Charlie with a lot of unflattering photos of the young demon, wearing her hair and wardrobe black, reporting that she'd been running around with some wild characters, going to raves and parties, getting in trouble, and generally causing a lot of debauchery, even by Hell's standards.

Charlie has managed to stay out of the public eye for the last few years since she's come of age. Honestly, it's anyone's guess what the princess is really like these days. Only Sera, the High Seraphim of Heaven, and the one primarily responsible for finding Charlie's betrothed, assures Vaggie that the princess is nothing like what the media says. She doesn't do anything so rebellious now, and a lot of those tales were highly exaggerated anyway. Charlie is a perfectly delightful, upstanding citizen, and she assures Vaggie she will love her to pieces!

They ultimately meet at a party. One of those swanky, posh soirées that the nobility of both realms like to hold at the Heaven embassy in Hell. Sera is in attendance with her own wife, Carmilla, and they are off doing their own thing. Vaggie stands there in her white gown and fancy shoes that Sera bought her for the occasion, with her hair tied up in an elaborate bun. She stands next to some other highbrow angels, feeling completely awkward and out of her element. No one is talking to her.

She stays near the punch bowl and snack table, nibbling on things throughout the night to curb her own anxiety. She feels so out of place. She hasn't even been introduced to anyone, let alone Charlie! She's starting to wonder why she's even here at all.

It's not until a very beautiful, very coquettish woman in a red gown comes up to stand beside her, holding out her hand to be shaken. Vaggie looks down at her hand, and then up at her. She's tall. Very tall. Maybe around Carmilla's height, or a little less. The woman looks nervous, and she's blushing slightly, unable to meet Vaggie's gaze directly. Her other hand moves up to push stray locks of hair from falling in her face.

"H-hi!" the woman says, with a genuine smile. "I'm Charlie! You must be Vaggie! Carmilla has told me so much about you. I wanted to come say hello earlier, but I don't get to meet many angels. And you're just so... so pretty. Oh, shit, did I say that out loud? Forgive me! I admit, I was a little intimidated at meeting you. But I didn't want to be rude."

Vaggie looks at Charlie again. The princess is still holding out her hand, now biting her bottom lip in anticipation of Vaggie shaking it. Vaggie does. Charlie's fingers grip hers tightly, manicured red nails grazing lightly against Vaggie's hand. Vaggie maybe shakes Charlie's hand a little too hard, and takes a little too long to pull away.

"Va-vaggie. Yes, my name is Vaggie. Please! The pleasure is all mine, princess, I assure you."

That gets a laugh out of Charlie. She's beaming brightly now, like a light illuminating the otherwise dull illumination of the room. Like a morning star. Now Vaggie is the one blushing, as she listens to her talk about nothing in particular.

Oh, this! This...Vaggie thinks she could get used to this. She could get used to this very well!

[hey-its-jacob-lol]

JacobLOL and Kirb Presents: The Chaotic Route

*Our story begins in Equestria. Discord, The master and Lord of Chaos is up to his usual chaotic tricks annoying anyone and everyone all day long. He made the Apple family's orchard come to life and ran away from the farm. He made Twilight Sparkle's books fly around at such a fast speed that they all eventually knocked Rainbow Dash of the sky. He stuck Rarity's Mannequins onto the ceiling and he even covered Pinkie Pie's own home with a chocolate flood.

Anyway, eventually, the complaining eventually got so out of hand, or hoof, that Fluttershy had no other choice but to confront her friend.*

Fluttershy (rather annoyed): "Discccoord. What have you been up to?"

Discord: "Hoho! Why would you possibly want to know that Fluttershy? It's been pretty lacking, I must say."

Fluttershy: "Well, that's not what everypony else is saying. They're all coming up to me and complaining about the stuff you've done!"

Discord: *scoffs* "Like what?"

*Fluttershy then replied with all the antics that were mentioned earlier.*

Discord (awkwardly): "Ohhh right, that."

Fluttershy: "Yes. That."

Discord: "Oh, come on, Fluttershy! At least I didn't hurt anyone!"

Fluttershy: "No, you didn't directly. But you've could've cost both Rarity and Pinkie Pie their jobs! What would've happened then?"

Discord (muttering): "I wouldn't mind, I think I did worst to Applejack."

Fluttershy: "What was that?!"

Discord (realising): "Um, nothing!"

*Discord gave Fluttershy a big grin, and Fluttershy sighed.*

Fluttershy: "Look, Discord, I understand why you need to be chaotic. It's a part of your nature, and it keeps you alive."

Discord: "Why thank you for being so thoughtful, Flutter-"

Fluttershy: "HOWEVER... Surely, there's a better way for you to use your magic without getting on anyone's nerves."

Discord: "Hmpf! You think you know so much about being a Draconequus, don't you?"

Fluttershy: "I try my best, Discord. I try because I care about you and I know that you're now reformed, but don't forget, we do still have the Elements of Harmony, and even though it would give me a great amount of guilt, I'd have to seal you back into stone again if you were to ever go too far again."

*Fluttershy sighed as her eyes darted towards the ground. After a few awkward seconds, Discord eventually spoke up.*

Discord: "I think some ponies just need to accept that I'm still going to be somewhat chaotic."

Fluttershy: "That's not the point, Discord."

Discord (rather frustrated): "Then what is it then, Fluttershy?!!"

Fluttershy: "It's about me making sure you don't end up on the wrong side of things again, and it's also so you quit pestering my friends!"

Discord: "Oh, come on now, Fluttershy. You know they're used to it by now."

Fluttershy: "Well, maybe they are, but that doesn't make it any less annoying for them."

*Discord pouted.*

Discord: "You ponies are no fun sometimes."

Fluttershy: "It's not that we aren't fun, or that we don't enjoy your antics from time to time. It's just that there's a time and place for them. There's needs to be order at least at some points of the day. Y'know, like order."

Discord: "You mean the one thing I truly go against? You ponies really care about your harmony, don't you?"

Fluttershy: "I mean, it's been around our culture for so long, it's bound to."

Discord (muttering): "Right..."

*Discord lowered his head.*

Discord: "You do everything you can to fit in, and yet you still can't."

Fluttershy: "Discccoord. Don't be like that. I'm your friend and so is everyone else."

Discord: "But you don't know what it's like to be me and unless I actually turn you into a draconequus, which I don’t even know if that's possible, you'll never know."

*Discord then lifted he head, as he looked into sky.*

Discord: "That's why I enjoyed being around that jester, Jevil. He, too, was a creature of chaos. He understood me and my own struggles for freedom. Sadly, I haven't really heard much from them since I was kicked out of his little group while you and the others were fighting them."

Fluttershy: "Do you miss Jevil then?"

*Discord sighed.*

Discord: "Yes."

Fluttershy: "Well, why don't you try making up with Jevil? That could help make you feel better!"

Discord: "I suppose I could, if I really wanted to... Then again, the supposed 'Dark World' seems pretty fun too..."

*Suddenly, Discord gasped as a light bulb went off.*

Discord: "Sweet Celestia, that's it, Fluttershy!!! I know where I can go to continue being my chaotic self without interfering with the ponies duties! Oh, thank you, Fluttershy!"

*Discord hugged a rather confused Fluttershy.*

Fluttershy: "Umm... You're welcome?"

Discord: "Now, let us set forth for The Dark World!"

Fluttershy: "Wait, wha-"

*Discord, with Fluttershy in his arms, summoned a door that shun with a bright light onto the other side and with a now confident smile on his he jumped through the said, all while Fluttershy was tagging along with him.*

*Meanwhile, it was yet another day for Kris and her friends. That being a day of boring classes with Alphys and Berdly being annoying. Except for the fact that Berdly hasn't been seen at all for several days. Not that it bothered Susie or Kris, really. In fact, they couldn't really care less.*

*Anyway, everyone was pretty bored. There was nothing fun to do, and Kris, Noelle, and Susie could really only tolerate Sans for so long.* So, bored out of their minds, they decided to head to The Dark World, where our story truly begins... Once our teams switched outfits and found themselves in Castle Town, they were greeted by Lancer.*

Lancer: "Susie!"

*Lancer rode up to Susie and the others with a big smile on his face.*

@somedude111111

[utilitycaster]

Note: this contains some mild Call of the Netherdeep spoilers and is tagged for that; please be aware if you are in a Netherdeep game.

I alluded to this here in my tags, and many thanks to @captainofthetidesbreath and @essektheylyss for some further refinement of the idea, but: the Aeorian stasis bubbles remind me very much of the temple to the Arch Heart in Cael Morrow. It's surrounded by a dome that, despite the city being largely underwater, keeps it dry. The dome is immune to all damage and cannot be dispelled by any spells. The key to entering? A faithful worshiper of the Arch Heart can pass through and take their allies with them.

Similarly, the stasis bubbles of Aeor seem protected from outside elements, are immune to all damage, and cannot be dispelled by any spells. They seem very last minute - people fleeing and preparing - and as if they captured people where they stood at the time, without any real planning and organization. From what we've seen from the perspective of the Mighty Nein and Bells Hells, we just know they were created in flashes of light. We also know there were many, many of these bubbles - a huge working of magic.

What if these aren't, as I'm sure many of us have assumed (myself included) the work of Aeorian wizards? What if this was divine in nature - either from the figures we're about to see in Downfall, or from one of the gods themselves, working directly? I could see that being something the mages excavating Aeor would largely miss (indeed, as I mentioned earlier today Ludinus seems to have flat out ignored them, and they don't appear to have been Essek's focus), and perhaps the exact mechanism is a little bit more complicated than just a faithful follower being permitted entry given that there's people in the bubbles, so it's not something a cleric would likely stumble upon by accident.

I also thought of the Empyrean, child of the former deity of death prior to the Raven Queen, whom Vox Machina encountered in Pandemonium while searching for Grog's soul. The idea was that he'd been put there temporarily, but the Raven Queen ascended, and the Empyrean was forgotten. Aeor's destruction took place at latest around the midpoint of the Calamity, and likely still relatively early on. It's entirely possible someone intended to go back for those people in the stasis bubbles, and never had a chance to, and the gods going behind the Divine Gate (and the limitations this imposed) means they couldn't, and their general attitude of reduced interventionism means they would not push their followers to do so.

[survivalove]

debunking lies zutara shippers say about the atla creators & writers

disclaimer: this is in no way an endorsement or defense of bryke or anyone mentioned. literally just debunking false statements i see spread throughout and outside the fandom as it pertains to kataang

1. that bryke made kataang endgame because the nice guy should get the girl

this is something I see often usually linked with this video of a man ⬇️ who they claim to be bryan/mike echoing this sentiment.

this man is in fact john o’bryan, one of the three known zk shippers in the writers’ room (we’ll expand on this in point 5) talking about how he saw aang. not the creators. so of course it shouldn’t surprise anyone that he doesn’t even like kataang in the first place.

2. that bryke made kataang endgame last minute and zutara was the original pairing

bryan and mike (notice how i’m using both of their names separately. this too will be important in the next point) have talked about how kataang was planned since they originally wrote the show.

they have also talked ad nauseam in a video (which I will not share here cuz it made a lot of ppl angry) about why they do not like zutara and its shippers, so this entire point is bogus.

++ the reason why they say zk was the original pairing is because of one of the zk writers (joshua hamilton) wrote this in the atla fun facts that used to run on tv. (we’ll get into him later) those atla fun facts contain a lot of inaccurate/non canon “facts” which you can check and verify on avatar wiki if you know what i’m talking about.

3. that aang is bryke’s self insert (specifically mike)

yeah, here’s where the separation becomes important. bryan (L) and mike (R) are two different men. mike has never said that aang was his self-insert, nor has he directly talked about relating to aang. bryan, however, constantly talks about how much he relates to zuko. even, going as far to say he tries to think like zuko when he writes characters and shows.

the only time mike has come close to saying he relates to aang is when dante said he thinks mike is more like aang while bryan is more like zuko, and they, mostly bryan, agreed. (mike has actually said he relates to korra more than aang but hey) bryan also is the one who drew mike’s beard on adult aang because he considered it a nice reference to his friend. this is the main reason why shippers ran with that self-insert narrative because half the time, they think bryke is actually one person ☠️

++ in fact, aang’s original character design is based off the mixed black-chinese son of sifu kisu

4. that atla was supposed to have a season 4 where katara and zuko got together

this is mostly something that has come out of a fabricated interview by the head writer, aaron ehasz. he was allegedly asked what he would have liked to do if given the chance to write a fourth season of the show and talked about an azula redemption arc among other things. zutaras then made up a whole fake interview including that he wanted to make the two characters endgame.

ehasz then came out to say that most of these “interviews” were faked and that he has never talked about having a preference for any ship. if you go on his twitter, you will see him talking about an azula redemption arc tho.

as for atla having a 4th season at all, it was never intended. the creators, the music composers have all said at various points in time, the show was written and pitched as three seasons, three elements.

5. that most of the other writers shipped zutara and bryke’s authoritarianism shut it down

as I said above, only three writers on the original show have come out to say they preferred zk at some point. atla has had a total of 21 staff writers. 3 out of 21 is not most if you ask me.

as for bryke (yes now i’m using the shorthand cuz i proved my point earlier) being authoritarians, no writer or staff that has worked with them on the show has said this so…? idk where that came from but i’m not here to back them up just mention facts.

6. that all the women who worked on the franchise shipped zutara while only men shipped kataang

atla has very few female staff as it is:

5 writers (elizabeth welch: zk; others: unknown)

1 director (unknown)

5 storyboard/character artists (lauren montgomery: ka; elsa garagarza: ka; angela song mueller: zk; others: unknown)

1 comic writer (faith erin hicks: ka)

2 comic artists (gurihiru: ka)

++ mae whitman (katara’s voice actress) has expressed her like for both ships throughout the years.

so i’m not sure what defines all and only for some ppl but those definitions are not in my dictionary. disclaimer: i’m not declaring anyone here as a shipper in any official sense. this is just based off statements they have made that you can google!

7. that katara is written poorly in post-atla content because of kataang/bryke

I mean the first part isn’t really a lie, more of an opinion which I can agree with to an extent.

why I mention this here is because zks will not only go on a tangent and link the misogyny in the writing to a m/f ship and say the other m/f ship would have been more feminist…

but they also refuse to hold all the men involved accountable. like I said, 3 known atla writers shipped zk and 2 of them (joshua & john) were men (who would’ve thought men could like a ship and it could still be considered feminist 😃). they were also 2 out of only 4 atla writers that came back for legend of korra, outside of the creators. (19 to 4 ☠️ no comment). these shippers very well know this and instead of holding these men accountable for the misogynistic writing, they instead brag about them shipping it and ask them about zk whenever they have the chance.

another example is gene luen yang, a comic writer who again shipped zk (another man GASPPPPP) responsible for the first 5 comic books. everyone knows his comics suck in terms of characterization, particularly katara’s. in fact zutaras have made multiple threads on how poor the writing is. funnily enough, they always fail to mention that gly was the script writer or acknowledge his part in this mischaracterization, while bragging about him shipping zk in other posts. ironic.

meanwhile, bryke have never offered writers’ commentary on any of gly’s comics besides the search - mike (because they were mostly writing legend of korra during his run.)

basically these shippers don’t care about misogyny or holding male writers accountable if they ship zk which is funny because I thought it was… for the female gaze? why are you hyping men shipping it anyway? confusion.

[theminecraftbee]

finalized smallishsona au party, in true join order:

grian, justice. his persona is signy, and his weapon is a naginata. he's an all-arounder who gets both physical and magical attacks, with a focus on dark and light magic (eiha/kouha damaging skills and mudo/hama instakill skills alike). technically the earliest member of the team, also one of the three starter members of the team when joel joins. he has been doing this the longest out of anyone, and sometimes, it shows in ways that aren't so great.

scar, magician. his persona is majnun, and his weapon is bows. a magic and ailment-based attacker, but he gets healing and support skills in his moveset as well (that, story-wise, he focused on due to him and grian being the only two persona wielders for a while, and scar's persona being the only one suited for them). his element is wind/garu. acts as the early-game healer until joel gets better options, then settles into massive magic damage and ailments.

joel, wildcard/fool. he has many personas and roles, but his starting persona is pygmalion, who is associated with ice/bufu. his weapon is knives. his role in the party is to be everything for everyone all the time. no this doesn't say anything about him. shut up.

skizz, chariot. his persona is enkidu, and his weapon is brass knuckles. a heavy physical attacker through-and-through, the fact that his attacks cut his own hp to deal damage is unfortunately fitting for his character. what little magic he gets is fire/agi, but like, he's the party member that learns charge naturally, you will not be using those unless you have to knock over some guy's weakness and joel forgot to bring a persona to cover it. while his rescue and awakening happens before joel starts exploring Altered Space, it takes a little bit for skizz to join, as unlike joel, using his persona does not come naturally to him. also is the earlier members to get various buff skills.

mumbo, moon. his persona is ariadne, and he is the navigator. for those unfamiliar, the navigator does not enter battle with the rest of the party, but DOES have the ability to help buff the party, scan enemies for weaknesses, and do other helpful things to help the team, well, navigate. giving a man with anxiety an all-seeing web probably can't hurt anything, right? in my head he functions as a cross between fuuta's very useful scan and various dungeon skills (like the escape one), and futaba's very useful in-battle buffs.

impulse, emperor. his persona is siegfried, and his weapon is axes. he's the TRUE party healer who gets stuff like me patra (heals the party of any status effects), samerecarm (revives someone with full health), and mediarahan (heals the party to full health) as his persona gets to higher levels. he also picks up electric/zio skills for decent damage (although he doesn't have scar's magic stat and is very much built to heal most of the turns he's around). it probably says something about him that he gets healing skills once he truly awakens his persona, especially given skizz. while he's aware of his persona from the start of the plot, it takes until a bit of a ways into the plot for him to truly awaken to it. also, because this is an au and not an actual game, i can get away with the most effective party healer joining this late. any other persona game, he'd be one of the earliest members. for obvious reasons. (and the fact scar is their most effective healer for a long while is. DEFINITELY a plot point here.)

gem, empress. her persona is atalanta, and her weapon is swords. she's a late-game powerhouse type build, with powerful bufu/ice magic in combination with almighty/untyped magic damage. she can show up and cast megioladon on the shadows' asses, is what i'm saying. she also gets the debuff and buff skills that aren't already scattered across the existing party members, but unlike scar, she doesn't get concentrate, so she's not the PERFECT damage-dealer here. as one of the two party members who hasn't been directly tied into this plot from the beginning, it's possible she has her own motivations and things going on that the rest of the party doesn't know behind her awakening. but that would just be silly, right...?

[pizzaronipasta]

It deeply confuses and saddens me that people so readily dismiss older video games as being lesser. Several of my favorite games of all time are among the oldest in their genres, and frequently get unfairly written off as "dated." It's a shame really, because these titles are diamonds in the rough, and ought to be recognized as the absolute gems they are.

A perfect case study for this topic is Metroid, released for the Famicom Disc System in 1986, and for the Nintendo Entertainment System in 1987.

This game is immaculate. It features some of the best design I've ever seen. Its atmosphere, aesthetics, narrative, gameplay, and controls are all on point. Its worst flaw is its buggy programming. And yet, a lot of people seem to hate it. They respect it as the precursor to its widely acclaimed sequels, especially Super Metroid, but not a lot of people appreciate it for its own merits. Why is this? I suspect there are three main reasons.

The first reason is that it doesn't directly tell you much. Most people nowadays play it on an emulator, and don't think to consult the manual, which would have come with a new physical copy and clarified some points of confusion. The manual even has a partial map of Brinstar, the game's first area, and suggests making your own maps as you play.

Even so, the manual doesn't tell you everything. The game conveys most of what it needs to through gameplay. Its opening moments demonstrate this expertly.

When you start a new game, Samus appears facing the camera. There is nothing visibly stopping you from going left or right, and nothing to indicate which way the game wants you to go. If you're used to games like Super Mario Bros., you might assume you have to go right.

If you do, you'll come to an impasse. The only way forward is too narrow for you to fit through. So the only way you can go is left.

Doubling back, you'll find you can go left from where you started, and come across the morphing ball. When you grab it, you'll seemingly be trapped. The place you jumped down from is too high to jump back up to, and the only other visible path is a narrow passage like you saw earlier. Obviously, you need to use the morphing ball to escape. The game has taught you this without a word.

You'll probably remember the impasse from before. Since you were given the tool to solve a similar situation, you'll naturally think to try it there as well. Thus, the game has taught you the core elements of the search-action genre, or as it eventually came to be known, the metroidvania: as you explore, you will reach obstacles; further exploration will reward you with the means of clearing those obstacles; and remembering where you encountered obstacles will reward you with swift progress.

But Metroid is not done teaching. Once you resume progressing to the right, you'll reach the bottom of a tall vertical shaft.

When I say this thing is tall, I mean it. The same pattern of platforms is repeated around a dozen times before you reach anything of note, and the whole thing is crawling with simple enemies. Up until this point, a player will probably have fought nearly every enemy they could; after all, defeating them removes them as obstacles, and rewards you with health pickups, which you'll need since Samus starts with only 30 out of 99 units of health. But here, attempting to kill every zoomer (yes, that's what the spiky things are called) will make your climb either extremely slow and tedious or extremely costly in terms of health. Unless a player is unreasonably persistent, they are likely to get bored or frustrated and begin evading the enemies instead. The fact that you can't damage the rippers, the only other type of enemy in this room, further helps to signal that the player needs to pick their battles. And so, yet another critical lesson is wordlessly taught: that you don't generally need to go out of your way to kill enemies, and that avoiding combat can save you time and resources.

Metroid continues teaching the player like this from start to finish. With patience, caution, and observance, you'll learn the game's ins and outs without even realizing it. The problem is that many players don't play with this approach, because of...

The second reason I think people dislike the game: preconceived notions of what old games are like.

NES games have a reputation for being unfairly difficult. The usual explanations for this are that they were still being designed like arcade games, which were meant to get as many quarters out of players as possible, and that they also used difficulty to artificially bloat play time, creating the illusion of better value for people buying them. There is some truth to both of these, but the phenomenon is largely overstated. Nevertheless, this reputation precedes games from that era.

As such, when players today approach a game like Metroid, they aren't expecting an actual well-designed game. They're expecting a brutal experience full of cheap bullshit and cryptic nonsense. When they get to that vertical shaft, they don't consider that they might be doing something wrong, they just assume that it's supposed to be tedious and frustrating. And so they never learn the game's lessons. When they find themselves turned around in the sprawling nonlinear level design, they're predisposed to getting overwhelmed and giving up, at which point they consult...

The third reason I think people dislike the game: walkthroughs.

The way people perceive old games, as described above, has led to the proliferation of walkthroughs. Now, there's nothing wrong with referencing a guide when you're stuck, or when you're trying to track down things you missed, or in other such situations. However, following one to the letter for the entirety of your playthrough ruins games like Metroid. When you have a handy set of step-by-step instructions on how to win, you have no incentive to engage with the game. You have no reason to even try learning level layouts or remembering what's where. Metroid ceases to be a game, and instead becomes a checklist.

It gets worse, though. When you always know precisely where to go next, the time you were expected to spend exploring and getting better at the game gets completely cut out. You don't have time to master the combat. You don't have the opportunity to get a feel for where secrets are most likely to be hidden. As your progress increases, your skill does not. Therefore, following a walkthrough like this leaves you sorely unprepared for the challenges in store for you. And so games like Metroid end up feeling like brutal experiences full of cheap bullshit and cryptic nonsense. A self-fulfilling prophecy.

In conclusion, please give older games a fair chance. Engage with them as earnestly as you would with modern games, and never rule out the possibility that you might be doing something wrong. And above all else, keep your walkthrough usage to a minimum.

There's a whole world of fantastic new experiences waiting for you. Enjoy.

[tossawary]

Thinking about two (three?) different "Rin Lives" AUs for "Naruto" in very different styles.

The first (Option 1A) is, of course, the classic where Rin survives having the Sanbi sealed inside her instead of having Kakashi kill her (while Obito watches). I can't exactly call Zetsu's sinister plan here unreasonable, but it does still rely heavily on a bunch of relatively unpredictable elements.

With Obito as a hostage, Zetsu has relatively intimate information on Rin, Kakashi, and Minato, but by that point, it's like a year out of date. What if Rin, Kakashi, and Minato have all been significantly changed by Obito's apparent death and have adjusted their techniques and procedures? The plan relies on 1) neither of Namikaze Minato's students (who also know Uzumaki Kushina and Jiraiya of the Sannin) having sufficient sealing knowledge to hold out long enough for help to arrive, 2) the YELLOW FLASH to be fully distracted and occupied while this is happening, and 3) Rin dying in such a way that it looks like Kakashi's fault. (Also, 4) no other Kiri nin catching on and having issues with all of this.)

Again, it's not exactly unreasonable that all of these elements came together in a tragedy, but also still too reliant for my liking on all of these different moving pieces who could potentially pull out skills and escape plans that Zetsu hasn't foreseen. I'll need to reread that part to figure out why clones / genjutsu weren't just used to fool Obito, who wasn't exactly in a good state to resist that kind of manipulation. (Itachi used Tsukuyomi on Kakashi at least once. Obito is under severe physical, mental, and emotional strain and only awakened his Sharingan directly before his kidnapping. He's so vulnerable.)

Option 1B for this AU, a twist on the classic, is that nothing about this mission was real. The Sanbi was never put inside Rin. Zetsu or Madara fooled a vulnerable Obito with a trick / gaslighting, and Zetsu has been desperately struggling to kill Nohara Rin for years to get her out of the way before a grieving / vengeful Obito notices that Rin isn't actually dead. This AU probably takes place before Minato's death. Kakashi and Minato have caught on to some attempted murder mystery going on here and they are SO overprotective.

OPTION 2 for a "Rin Lives" AU is actually a "Rin gets resurrected" AU. Obito catches on earlier that Madara and Zetsu are full of shit, but Obito still isn't exactly sane after everything, so while Obito has Rinnegan superpowers in the middle of the final fight, he throws Madara and Zetsu's plan out the window and somehow uses a stolen / modified version of Orochimaru's Edo Tensai technique to bring Nohara Rin fully back from the dead. Obito says a big "FUCK YOU" to all of those long conspiracies and wastes all of that ultimate power on fully resurrecting some random nobody girl he loved as a young teenager.

So, it's like: "Your name is Nohara Rin and you are no longer dead. You were turned into a bomb and killed yourself when you were 14 to save your village, and now you've been resurrected as though you never died; you're not exactly 14 anymore after the dreamy time you spent watching the world of the living, but you are definitely not actually 31. It's weird.

"The teammate you once thought was dead was actually kidnapped by two different madmen and has spent the past 15 years with them molding his body and whispering in his ears, only to betray them anyway. His hands are covered in so much blood and he's started a war and it was all apparently a trick to bring you back. So everyone is looking at you, shocked, and confused, because you're not special. All of that? For you? For some random dead girl? They were ready for the world to end. Obito is looking at you, satisfied, expectant, like you're supposed to have any answers or any kind of comfort for him.

"Minato-Sensei is here too, undead in a different way, not alive again like you are (at least, like you think you are), and so is Kakashi, all grown up the hard way. They are looking at you like a miracle and also like you're breaking their hearts all over again. And oh, no, Uchiha Madara and Zetsu are very, VERY mad right now, there's no time for any of this, is there? You died in one war and it's right back into another."

[marxism-transgenderism]

RACIAL CAPITALISM: THE NONOBJECTIVE CHARACTER OF CAPITALIST DEVELOPMENT

The historical development of world capitalism was influenced in a most fundamental way by the particularistic forces of racism and nationalism. This could only be true if the social, psychological, and cultural origins of racism and nationalism both anticipated capitalism in time and formed a piece with those events that contributed directly to its organization of production and exchange. Feudal society is the key. More particularly, the antagonistic commitments, structures, and ambitions that feudal society encompassed are better conceptualized as those of a developing civilization than as elements of a unified tradition.

The processes through which the world system emerged contained an opposition between the rationalistic thrusts of an economistic worldview and the political momenta of collectivist logic. The feudal state, an instrument of signal importance to the bourgeoisie, was to prove to be as consistently antithetical to the commercial integration represented by a world system as it had to the idea of Christendom. Neither the state nor later the nation could slough off the particularistic psychologies and interests that served as contradictions to a global community. A primary consequence of the conflict between those two social tendencies was that capitalists, as the architects of this system, never achieved the coherence of structure and organization that had been the promise of capitalism as an objective system. On the contrary, the history of capitalism has in no way distinguished itself from earlier eras with respect to wars, material crises, and social conflicts. A secondary consequence is that the critique of capitalism, to the extent that its protagonists have based their analyses upon the presumption of a determinant economic rationality in the development and expansion of capitalism, has been characterized by an incapacity to come to terms with the world system’s direction of developments. Marxism, the dominant form that the critique of capitalism has assumed in Western thought, incorporated theoretical and ideological weaknesses that stemmed from the same social forces that provided the bases of capitalist formation.

The creation of capitalism was much more than a matter of the displacement of feudal modes and relations of production by capitalist ones. Certainly, the transformation of the economic structures of noncapitalist Europe (specifically the Mediterranean and western European market, trade, and production systems) into capitalist forms of production and exchange was a major part of this process. Still, the first appearance of capitalism in the fifteenth century involved other dynamics as well. The social, cultural, political, and ideological complexes of European feudalisms contributed more to capitalism than the social “fetters” that precipitated the bourgeoisie into social and political revolutions. No class was its own creation. Indeed, capitalism was less a catastrophic revolution (negation) of feudalist social orders than the extension of these social relations into the larger tapestry of the modern world’s political and economic relations. Historically, the civilization evolving in the western extremities of the Asian/European continent, and whose first signification is medieval Europe, passed with few disjunctions from feudalism as the dominant mode of production to capitalism as the dominant mode of production. And from its very beginnings, this European civilization, containing racial, tribal, linguistic, and regional particularities, was constructed on antagonistic differences.

— Cedric J. Robinson, Black Marxism: The Making of The Black Radical Tradition