#<- an actual thing that happened like. last year

[dreamingdormouse]

Back when Mr. Dormouse was in the Navy, he was for a couple years assigned to Pearl Harbor, as a nuclear mechanic on the submarine engines. (My husband is one of the most brilliant people I know, by the way, that's a very difficult job to get. But also it's hard work, long hours, lots of stress, and not very good pay.)

Shortly before I arrived to join him, his gross-motor twitches became more pronounced. They'd started when he was in training, and gotten stronger over time. He would be thinking about something or working on something, and abruptly his arm would flail out to the side, or his leg would kick like you'd found the right spot to tap with the little reflex hammer.

This was not as dangerous as Gallus's Dad without his glasses and with a gun, but still rather hazardous, as Mr. Dormouse quite often had a wrench in his hand, which was wont to go flying if his arm jerked!

His coworkers teased him about it in the friendly/mean way that is common in the military. He began the process of getting it checked out - the military, for all its flaws, has/had an amazing health care system.

The docs on base ended up deciding that

1) It's not Tourette's (which can manifest physically as well as the more well-known version of accidental cussing)

2) It's very similar, though, but, uh... not actually any of the things in our textbook?

3) Stress makes it worse

4) Sorry, Chief Petty Officer Dormouse, there's nothing else we can do for you

5) But you really shouldn't be in the military anymore

Well that was helpful.

Worse, commanding officers didn't care. Wouldn't hear of discharging him early. On the plus side, the submarine he was assigned to was in drydock for a year or more of preventative maintenance (if it was a car, it would've had an oil change, tires rotated, rust inspection, emissions test, the works), so at least he wasn't underwater like that, on multi-week trips, in a crowded environment 24/7.

The other engineer/mechanics around him knew he wanted to get a medical discharge. They began to joke that they should assign him to stand close to the officers, carrying a knife. Not in a threatening manner, oh no! Just as a tool. It wouldn't be anyone's fault if he just... twitched. And maybe then the officers would get the idea that this guy shouldn't be in the military?

Eventually somebody with some ability to sign papers decided to do so, and Mr. Dormouse was assigned to the equivalent of garden duty - a stint in the quartermaster's office. It took another 6-9 months before he got his discharge, because there wasn't a form for "IDK, I think it's Tourette's-adjacent, should we do another brain scan?" like there is for myopia or a heart murmur.

But at last he got out of the Navy and went to college for nuclear engineering, and it's been more than a decade. Not being in the military took away a lot of the stress, so these days he barely twitches at all. Sometimes it just looks like a full body shiver, and it happens a lot less frequently.

He does tell me that it is quite traditional to get stuck with the pin when a medal is being awarded, so it's possible that Captain Redacted lightly stabbed Gallus's Dad on purpose and as per custom. But it also might've been the whiskey. 🥴

The Hummingbird

The Story of my Father’s Very Brief military career.

Content Warnings: Military, guns, hummingbirds, Profanity, Lots of Profanity, spectacular incompotence, catholicism mention, alcohol mention.

As usual, all names have been changed or redacted to protect people’s privacy.

In the fall of 1969, my Dad was hit by a car and suffered a serious concussion, causing him to miss midterms and put his grade in a hole he wouldn’t be able to recover from, as this was the days before a lot of professorial accountability.  Like a sensible person, he decided to Withdraw for the semester and focus on recovering and maybe take a part-time job to pay for spring tuition, because you could do that back then.

“Son,” My grandfather asked, sitting on the couch with Dad shortly after he was discharged from the hospital. “What about your college deferment? I’m worried about you getting drafted.”

“Dad,” Dad said, filling in job applications. “I’m legally blind without my glasses!  I’d be a danger to anyone around me with a gun.  Even if I get drafted there’s no way in hell I’d pass the medical exam.”

“Don’t swear in my house.” Said Grandpa, under the entirely mistaken impression that the US Military was run with any sort of competence.

Literally a week later my Dad’s draft papers came in, and he reported to his local draft board, driver’s license and doctor’s note in hand to prove He Is Legally Blind Without His Glasses, only to be waved through without so much as a sideways glance by anyone resembling a doctor.

“They must be desperate.”  My dad concluded when he got home that night to pack.

The news was devastating to the family, as both his parents had siblings to WWII.  Grandpa was ready to beg, bribe and otherwise compromise his intensely catholic morals to get Dad out, and Grandma prayed to any available saint that would save her son from the fate of her brothers.  She had quite the collection of saints in her sewing room, some forty figurines and dozens more candles and images, along with some stained glass she’d made herself of saints, landscapes and animals, including a large hummingbird that lived on the sewing room window since they’d moved into the house.

Dad pleaded with them to not do anything they’d regret, and returned to the base for basic training.

Dad’s drill sergeant was a man whose real name was “Ross” but insisted on being called “Bulldog” or “SIR!” by everyone depending on rank.  Dad supposed this might have been a defense mechanism as Bulldog had an intensely jowled and acne-scarred face that did greatly resemble a fighting dog well past their prime.  The image was not helped by the fact that he was constantly smoking rose-flavored tobacco in a pipe that had seen better centuries, and consequently smelled like a terrible combination of trailer park and the women’s perfume counter at Macy’s.

Bulldog was also… not great about following protocol, which is a terrible failing in a Drill sergeant, but Dad supposed at that point in the war Bulldog had become horribly depressed by the sheer numbers of young men he was sending to their deaths and had kind of stopped giving a fuck about their safety and his own.

Which lead to an incident about three weeks into Dad’s training camp when in the middle of a Weapons Qualification lesson, Bulldog pulled Dad’s glasses off and bellowed “YOU WON’T HAVE THOSE COKE BOTTLES WHEN THOSE [incorrect slurs, because there’s no such thing as an informed bigot] BLAST YOUR ASS TO KINGDOM COME.” before stomping off to go change the paper targets, leaving Dad standing there with an M-1, squinting in what he hoped was the general direction of the targets.

To give you an idea of HOW bad my dad’s vision is, I once asked him at what distance things got blurry, and he responded by taking off his glasses, putting his hand up to his face, and slowly moving it back.  He stopped about eight inches from his face and nodded.  

“So I can see my hand from here but I can’t distinguish my fingers.  I think that green blob over there is your mother.”

“I’m in the living room.” called mom. “You’re looking at the blender.”

So it should come as no surprise that as soon as Dad heard someone shouting “Ready! Aim! Fire!” He did precisely that.

Hummingbirds are often mistakenly characterized as Delicate Little Rainbows that are a gift Direct from Heaven when the truth is they’re really Vicious Little Bastards thrown out of Hell for being too Nasty.  

You would be too if you could eat nothing but frappuccinos and the occasional chicken nugget, everything around you was at least the size of a pickup truck and regarded you as a tasty snack, and you were forced to defend your fridge from not only equally vicious rivals but goddamn insects that are bigger than you are.  

Being a hummingbird is awful under normal circumstances, and now there are maniacs with loud machines and projecties as big as you are stomping around and yelling and well-

At that exact moment, one of the nesting hummingbirds, having grown progressively more exasperated with the activity on the base, dive-bombed my father, hurling it’s tiny body directly into his ear and slicing the lobe up, and making him jerk slightly as he fired.

He missed Sergeant Bulldog by mere inches. Dad still isn’t sure if the Hummingbird caused him to miss or put him closer to accidental manslaughter, but it mattered little as Bulldog grabbed him by the head, shrieking in spittle-flying fury-

“ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?”  He roared.

“YES!!” screamed my father, also hysterical. “SIR THAT’S WHAT THOSE ‘COKE BOTTLES’ ARE FOR SIR!”

Bulldog stopped, suddenly and uncomfortably confronted with the nature of causality.  He only let it stymie him for a moment.  “GET YOUR IDIOT ASS TO THE MEDIC, I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER!”

At the medical center, an extremely befuddled doctor dilated Dad’s eyes, took pictures because Dad had the worst case of myopia he’d ever seen and wanted to put him in a medical journal, and asked him:

“What the HELL are you doing here?”

“Very nearly shooting people sir.”

“Well, we can’t have you shooting people while you’re in the army!  I’ll get your medical discharge started.”

Dad decided not to comment on that statement, thanked the doctor, and wandered blindly back to his bunk.

It took them a full thirty days to process Dad’s discharge, perhaps largely due to the fact that actually FINDING the captain was a task for hercules- The man had an almost phobic aversion to his office and a tremendous love of whiskey so actually locating the man and early enough in the day that he was still sober enough to sign anything was a race against time and a battle against the wits of a man determined to get out of work, which is when humanity is at its peak intelligence.

In the meantime, it simply wouldn’t do to let dad bike the five miles back to his home and come back for the paperwork, nor let him sit quietly and not accidentally maim anyone, so he was put on garden duty.  

Supervised by recently-suspended-from-instruction Sergeant “Bulldog” Ross.

By the second day Bulldog had mostly run out of steam, perhaps out of a sense of really, whose fault was that? So He would mostly stand in Dad’s general vicinity, waxing philosophical on the nature of war, government and whatever else he could be crotchety about that day while continuously smoking his rose-flavored tobacco in his pipe.  Dad planted a frankly absurd number of flowers, trying to make a planted display that would spell out the name of the base in eight-foot letters, just in case someone has managed to miss all 824,594,359 signs beforehand.

On day five, perhaps attracted by the bright colors or the stench of artificial rose, the Hummingbirds found the new garden.

At first, it was timid little trips to the edge farthest from Dad and Bulldog, testing this new territory for both risk and bounty, but upon finding it full of sugary goodness, they became bold, getting closer and closer to Dad, zipping in as soon as he got up to get the next flat of flowers, then not waiting for him to finish planting them before they were up in his face, squeaking angrily for him to get out of the way of their lunch.

One male objected to Dad and Bulldog’s presence particularly strongly, dive-bombing and buzzing angrily at them, an ounce and a half of glittery impotent rage.  After a month, he’d gotten quite aggressive, and one day flew directly up to Bulldog’s face to chitter curses at him eye-to-eye, only for Bulldog to take out his pipe and blow a cloud of smoke at him, laughing as the bird tumbled over backwards in midair.

Agitated with the sudden noxious cloud, or perhaps merely a violent psychopath in its own right, the bird flew back, then straight up into the air for a good fifty feet before going into a dive, aimed directly at Bulldog’s face.

Dad doesn’t recall actually moving, only a sense that he ought to do something, and launched himself out of the dirt, arms outstretched to clap and force it off course-

“SHIT! What the hell was that for?”  Demanded Bulldog.

“Well, the hummingbird looked like it was going to attack you, Sir.  So I stopped it.”

“How noble.  What are you standing there like an idiot for?”

“…I think I caught it sir.”  Said Dad, staring at the tiny bill poking out from between his gloves.  The two of them leaned in close as dad very slowly opened his gloves and peered inside.

The hummingbird immediately forced it’s tiny head out to peep furious profanities at them both.

“How is it,”  Bulldog wondered aloud as the hummer continued to curse the both of them for the next seven generations. “That you can’t see to hit the broad side of a barn but can pull a shitty little bird right out of the air?”

“I’m wearing my glasses, Sir.”

Bulldog looked up at him, glaring with such intensity his face ceased to be a face at all and transformed into a dali-esque collection of wrinkles.

“Fuck you. Now go take that damn thing to the other side of the base so it doesn’t come back.”

��Yes sir.”  Dad nodded, nearly saluting out of reflex before remembering that he was holding a live and very angry bird.  It took him several hours to get to the other side of the base, with literally everyone stopping to ask him what the hell he was doing, well I have this bird sir and I was told to release it on the other side of the base- how in hell did your blind ass catch a hummingbird, well I had my glasses on- Fuck you, go ditch that thing already.

At three o'clock on the dot the very next morning, two MPs woke up my dad and told him he needed to report to the front office right away, no time to get dressed, right away right now.

They marched him directly to the main office, barefoot and in his Pajamas to be greeted by not only Sergeant “Bulldog” ross, but nearly every officer on the base, including the lieutenant and the Captain, all of whom were… attempting to stand at attention with varying degrees of success, most weaving slightly, some snorting with poorly-concealed laughter, and the entire room reeking of booze.

“GENTLEMEN!”  hiccuped the lieutenant, before shaking himself and continuing, “WE ARE GATHERED HERE TODAY TO HONOR OUR ‘COMRADE’ -snort, giggle- IN ARMS -louder derisive laughter- FOR HIS BRAVERY AND SERVICE IN THE FACE OF EXTREME DANGER-”

“IN THE BEAK OF EXTREME DANGER!” Howled one of the assembled officers.  

“-AND FOR HIS SERVICE IN DEFENDING AN OFFICER OF THE UNITED STATES ARMY.  I AM ~SO~ PLEASED THAT WE HAVE CAPTAIN [REDACTED] HERE WITH US TO PRESENT THIS MEDAL.”

He turned to the Captain, who took out a small box and motioned Dad forward.  Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a chocolate box from See’s Candies.

“[REDACTED], in honor of your brave and frankly improbable service in the defense of Euge- sorry, Sergeant Ross, and the capture of a dangerous wild animal, we award you this medal-  The Flying Purple Bastard.”

He opened the chocolate box to reveal this*:

(Image Description: A piece of cardboard cut out approximately in the silhouette of a hummingbird, by someone with only a passing familiarity with what hummingbirds look like.  The cardboard has been haphazardly covered in tinfoil and cartoon eyes drawn on.  It’s attached to a scrap of ribbon and a safety Pin.)

Which was then pinned crookedly to Dad’s nightshirt, after accidentally stabbing him a bit, saluted him as someone attempted to play the bugle but made a rather melodious farting noise instead, then slapped Dad in the face with a manilla folder full of papers and shouted. “DISMISSED!”

“Dismissed, sir?”

“Those are your discharge papers.” Said Bulldog. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Yes, Sir!”

At which point Dad biked home in the rain, and thus ends my father’s military career.

*Pictured here is actually The Flying Purple Bastard 2.0, as the original was destroyed when partially eaten and fully regurgitated by one of the cats.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Paypal, as due to health concerns, telling funny stories on the internet is my ONLY means of income.  Thank you!

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ CARMEN kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids ⭢ girl, so confusing ⭢ consume (bonus) ⭢ take your mask off

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, more sakura and yn focus on this chapter, angst, flashbacks, guilt, a lot of confusion, over working, mentions of fainting, mentions of not eating, arguments, guilt, alcohol

it had been exactly a week since the girls stayed at the moons' humble home, and things had taken a strange turn, really strange.

yn returned to the dorms a couple of days later, though this time, she didn’t have much of a choice. their comeback preparations were in full swing, and her absence wasn’t an option.

but ever since their visit to yn’s family home, something felt… off. it wasn’t anything anyone could point out directly, but the shift in the air was undeniable. with everyone back together, practicing and prepping for the comeback, the strange energy became even more apparent.

yet, no one mentioned it. it was as though everyone had silently agreed to ignore the unsettling vibe that lingered between them, as if pretending it didn’t exist might make it go away.

no one noticed.

except sakura.

the first thing sakura noticed was how frazzled chaewon seemed after leaving the moon house. she had gone back to grab her phone and returned looking visibly shaken. when sakura asked what was wrong, chaewon brushed it off with a shake of her head.

the next thing she noticed was yunjin. normally the one to eagerly join in on chaewon’s rants about yn, yunjin had suddenly become... quieter. she didn’t even want to hear it anymore, shutting down conversations with comments like, "let’s just focus on this," or, "it’s really not that serious." it was strange, yunjin had always been vocal when it came to their shared thoughts about yn.

well, all of them except for kazuha, sakura thought.

but now, it seemed like yunjin was distancing herself from anything related to yn, actively changing the subject whenever her name came up. sakura couldn’t fathom what could have caused the sudden shift. what happened at the moon house that had made yunjin so... different?

sakura didn’t know where she found the courage, but she finally asked yunjin what was going on with her. the younger girl’s response was short and cryptic, “we’re a group, we should act like it.”

whatever that means.

you see, sakura had worked incredibly hard to get to where she was now, and she continued to push herself every single day. that was her problem with yn.

yn was the embodiment of having it easy. the brand deals, the fans, the love, it all seemed to fall into her lap without much effort. sometimes, it looked like she didn’t even have to try. she just had it, effortlessly shining in a way that made it hard to look away.

sakura liked to call her teruhashi. whenever yn asked what she meant by that, sakura would just laugh it off, shaking her head like it was some inside joke yn wouldn’t understand.

so yeah, sakura felt like she had every right to feel the way she did about yn. everyone in the group had put in years of hard work to get here, sacrificing everything to make it. and then came her—this rich girl whose dad conveniently got shares in the company, who was plopped into the group last minute before debut, only to become the most popular member overnight.

it wasn’t fair.

the room was filled with heavy breaths, the squeak of sneakers against the floor, and the steady rhythm of the music.

"one, two, three, four, all the girls are—"

"sakura, straighten your arms. make sure your lines are clean," the choreographer called out, scanning the group. "actually, all of you— wait, yn, come here."

they gestured for yn to step forward before turning back to the others. "this. this is exactly how you should be doing it."

"can you demonstrate?" the choreographer asked, turning to yn.

all eyes were on her now.

she stood there, unfazed, wearing bedazzled sunglasses so dark it was a mystery if she could even see. paired with baggy pink sweatpants, a top that barely passed as a shirt, more like a bikini top and, of all things, a pair of low moon boots.

what the hell is she wearing? chaewon had muttered under her breath when they left the dorm that morning and how does someone where that and still look good yn did, gosh she was a mess, a mess who was still the best in the room.

she unpaused the music, and immediately, yn started moving.

yn was versatile. no matter what concept was thrown at them, she adapted effortlessly, slipping into each one like it was made for her. sakura wasn’t going to lie, she had to mentally prepare every time they switched concepts, had to push herself to embody something new.

so watching yn do it so easily… it always made her feel a certain way.

like now.

the choreographer clapped after yn finished the part she instructed her to do, “that’s exactly how I want you guys to do it, keep your eyes on yn for now on.”

sakura kept her eyes on yn the whole time, noticing how the girl didn’t seem all that pleased with the choreographer’s praise.

why was that? if it were her, she’d be basking in it.

“yn you can go back, let’s start from the top.”

the rest of practice was a disaster, not in terms of their dancing, but the energy in the room. it didn’t feel like teamwork. it felt like competition.

sakura didn’t just want to match yn’s movements. she wanted to surpass them, but she couldn’t and that was the problem.

sighs of relief filled the room as the girls took sips of water, exhaustion settling in while they packed up their things.

sakura slung her bag over her shoulder, ready to leave, when she noticed something, yn was the only one who hadn’t packed up yet.

she stood alone in the corner, quietly sipping water from the dispenser, as if in no rush to leave.

sakura wasn’t the only one who noticed.

she watched as kazuha’s gaze landed on yn, her brows furrowing as she said something to her. whatever it was, sakura couldn’t make it out over the chatter of the other girls.

her curiosity only grew when kazuha suddenly shook her head, turning away from yn and heading back toward the group.

"let’s go," she muttered, not looking back.

"wait, wait, what’s up with yn?" sakura asked as the rest of the girls filed out of the room.

kazuha let out an annoyed sigh. "she’s staying to practice more. said she’ll be home in an hour, but knowing her, that probably means tomorrow."

"hasn’t she done enough?" sakura scoffed. "she already embarrassed us today. does she even realize we’re supposed to be on the same level?"

if yn wanted to be that good, maybe she should’ve just been a soloist.

kazuha opened her mouth to respond, but she just let out a sigh and shook her head.

most nights, sakura was the first to head to bed or at least the first to retreat to her room.

but not tonight.

it was nearly 1 a.m., and instead of sleeping, she sat on the couch, mindlessly watching netflix, barely paying attention to the time.

she flinched at the sound of the front door creaking open, instinctively pulling her blanket tighter around herself.

she had just finished a horror movie and was already onto the next so this was definitely not an ideal situation.

sloppy foot steps was heard making her furrow her eyebrows until it hit her, yn.

yn came into view, the sunglasses she had worn earlier now gone, revealing tired, red rimmed eyes. an oversized sweater hung loosely over her frame, swallowing her up.

she stumbled slightly as she walked through the entryway, one hand reaching out to the wall for support.

"yn?" sakura called out, her voice laced with confusion.

yn looked up at her, her eyes barely open. when she saw sakura, they widened in surprise. "um..." she mumbled, unsure of how to respond.

“I thought you came back hours ago, were you still practicing?” sakura questioned, yn’s whole body language setting alarms in her head, “how did you even get back?”

“it was one of my family’s drivers. It doesn’t matter what time, it's their job." yn mumbled, her words barely audible as she completely avoided sakura’s eyes.

"that sounds pretty privileged," sakura scoffed, her tone sharp with disbelief.

"it was either that, or I would’ve passed out with no one around to help." yn snapped back, her words laced with frustration.

"huh?" sakura muttered, finally noticing the hospital bracelet wrapped around yn’s wrist. "yn... were you just at the hospital?"

"what does it look like?" the younger girl shot back, heading toward the kitchen without a second glance.

sakura followed her without hesitation. “what? how? why?”

yn opened the fridge and grabbed a cold water bottle. “you know, the usual, undereating, overworking.”

“the usual?” sakura echoed, disbelief creeping into her voice.

yn let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the counter. “why do you even care?”

"because one of my members was just in the hospital, didn’t contact any of us, and then just casually calls it the usual?"sakura shot back, her frustration clear, “why would I not care?”

"because it is the usual. not my fault you haven’t noticed," yn shot back, her voice tinged with irritation. "and why would you not care? because you haven’t before, sue me."

sakura let out a frustrated sigh. "yn... this is different. this is important. this is your health."

yn shook her head, taking another sip from her water bottle. "it really isn’t different. with all the stuff you say about me, all the things you probably think about me, why on earth would you care about this?"

“yn-”

"well, since you’ve gotten me started, I guess I should finish, right?" yn cut her off, taking another sip of water, her movements sluggish like someone trying to sober up. "you know, you were probably the one who hurt me the most." after chaewon of course but she wasn’t going to say that out loud.

sakura furrowed her brow, confusion flooding her expression as yn continued. "I mean, you’re the older, motherly one who takes care of everyone... but you never even batted an eye at me. so, sorry for being freaked out right now by you suddenly caring."

the words hit sakura like a punch to the gut. she felt a sharp pang in her chest, she didn’t know how to respond.

"and when I found out you and chaewon were former idols, I thought, great, I have someone older who can guide me through this crazy industry," yn rambled, her voice thick with frustration. "but I guess I’m just too rich and perfect for that. instead, I had you laughing along with everyone else while old men belittled me."

sakura opened her mouth, but no words came out. it felt like everything yn said was just pouring out, and she was left speechless.

yn leaned further against the counter, taking another sip of water, and sakura couldn't shake the thought, was that even water?

"maybe it’s just me being dumb and craving that mother figure but it was such a shock for me," yn continued, "because when I was at sm, the girls I was with took care of me so well. you know aespa, right? you probably know I was supposed to debut with them?"

sakura nodded, her mind numb, her stomach sinking. guilt consumed her, she felt sick.

“yn-”

"did you also know I was forced out of the lineup because of my father?" yn’s words were laced with venom, and sakura flinched, the sharpness stinging her more than she expected. "I don’t want to be in this group as much as you don’t want me here."

"yn-"

"I have a question for you, unnie," yn said, dragging out "unnie" with a mocking tone. "do you hate me, or is it your insecurities getting the best of you?"

sakura was speechless. yn was right. yn was rich, pleasant, and constantly praised, yet that was just the surface, what sakura had seen from the outside. she didn’t know the full story, but the proof was standing right in front of her.

sakura wanted to be her in some ways, and that desire had only gotten in the way of building a connection with her.

"yn… I-"

"what’s going on?" chaewon’s voice broke through the tension, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she stepped into the kitchen. "I heard noise—what the hell, did you just get here?" her words were aimed at yn, who just shook her head, walking past chaewon and down the hall.

sakura’s gaze lingered down the hall where yn had disappeared, her chest heavy. chaewon’s questioning tone snapped her back to the moment. "what happened?"

a lump grew in sakura’s throat as she struggled to find the words. "um, nothing. just go back to bed."

she finally understood yunjin.

[timbitshockey]

i’ve been thinking a lot about that article that interviewed these rich white 19-20 year old kids who voted for trump and how so many of them said they did it because they were tired of being told what they couldn’t say and wanted to be able to make offensive jokes again. the world we live in is so individualistic and devalues empathy to such an insane degree.

so it’s like, do i think every player who went to the white house is a trump supporter who voted for him? no, probably not. but the league is, by a vast majority, full of rich white men who likely grew up in rich white communities in a sport that devalues empathy and places so much weight on tradition. so they don’t care. going to meet the president is part of the experience of winning the stanley cup and they want the full traditional experience and they don’t care about the current political climate or what being photographed smiling and thanking trump for his time is going to look or feel like to the people who are actually effected the most by what he’s done and what he’s threatening to do. they don’t care. they want to do the fun thing they earned for playing hockey good. it’s just depressing.

and like to be clear this isn’t a way of removing agency from these guys. lots of people grew up in environments like them and managed to break free of those ingrained messages and care about other people. most of these guys just don’t want to. they don’t want to think about politics beyond whether they’ll get fired for saying slurs and if they have to wear rainbow jerseys one night a year. is every player who didn’t use pride tape after travis dermott did homophobic? no. they just don’t care enough.

which is i guess sort of the problem with sports fandom, and something we have to sit with whenever these situations happen. these are real people. they’re not characters on a show who have plot lines and character arcs. and people are often disappointing.

i don’t know if i’m going anywhere with this. i guess maybe i’d like to remind us all to be kind to each other. to be empathetic. we’ve all got our different lines in the sand for what makes players persona non gratas to us and trying to use that as a gotcha for fandom beef can only really come back to bite us. what am i gonna say to a matthew tkachuck fan when sidney crosby did the same thing when the pens won in 2017? id like to think the players i support would be different but realistically they probably wouldn’t. florida fans and tkachuk fans are in the spot they’re in because their team won the cup, not because the team and players are uniquely more evil or more trump-supporting than anyone else. i don’t want to gotcha anyone. we’re all out here trying to have fun in our sandboxes in a world where empathy is a weakness and people who really matter to us disappoint and hurt us, sometimes just by not caring at all.

anyway. i try not to get into real life stuff too much on here and this will likely be the last i say on the subject. love you guys & i hope the world is kinder to us all soon

[neiptune]

like real people do

cw: 2.8k wc, female reader, friends to lovers, literally black cat x labrador dynamic, you showed up one day and are still part of his life, it’s an axiom he would never expect to change. until one day you meet his brother for the first time and rin shits himself

“We should hang out tomorrow. Are you free?”.

“No”.

You frown.

“Would you have said yes, if you were?”.

Rin takes a moment to reply.

“Probably not”.

The grin you offer right away doesn’t surprise him, if anything it makes him roll his eyes with fake exasperation.

“I love how you never change”.

He nudges your shoulder with his arm, hands buried in the pockets of an expensive coat.

“You’re annoying”.

“I know, it’s my whole thing. You kinda agreed to it when you accepted me as a friend”.

“I never did such thing. You showed up one day and never left”.

Your giggle echoes across the empty street and Rin finds himself basking in your usual affection, something he’s well aware he hardly deserves.

It’s true, though. One day, back in high school, you were assigned to the same group project with two other classmates and that’s when the information of being in the same class in the first place was presented to him. You talked too much and smiled too often but when it came to doing actual work, you turned into a weirdly serious, responsible student. Instantly, too. Which would’ve been an interesting aspect of your personality, if he so much as cared.

You both ended up being the only two putting in real work to finish the project but the only thing Rin could think of was that he was relieved his perfect grades could stay perfect despite the dead weight. Except, you didn’t leave him alone ever since, apparently happy (always way too happy) to have found a new friend. He doesn’t remember how many times, throughout his high school years, he had to repeat that you two were not friends. Over and over again, the deterrent had failed miserably.

Rin has kinda made peace with your presence in his life by now, despite adulthood and your careers playing a significant role in keeping you apart, whenever he visits his hometown you’re there and whenever you happen to be where he is, you insist on seeing him. Stubborn as he’s always been, in his own mind Rin stands his ground that there’s nothing tragically wrong in allowing you to consider him your friend, still. There’s also nothing particularly dramatic in letting himself indulge in someone else’s obstinate fondness.

You’re a good person, he knows that much. Patient, generous, always the first to offer help and the last to ask for anything. You’re stupid. And gullible. Way too easy to take advantage of. It’s why he, to this day, still keeps an eye on you, walks you home in the middle of the night, doesn’t shut the door like he’d do with anyone else when you show up uninvited to his house. Sometimes he brings you something too, little mementos from his travels that hold no real meaning, despite the way your eyes shine with wonder when he begrudgingly hands them to you.

Rin knows you like him. Or at least you used to, so many years ago. He remembers hearing you confessing the secret to one of your closest friends. You never really told him, a good person but still too proud to give him the satisfaction of rejecting you, stood by his side when no one else would put up with his pissy attitude, always disregarding your feelings. Even when he had girlfriends you were there, feigning nonchalance. Stupid. He remembers how he immaturely tried to get you to admit it, shared petty details of his dates, told you he thought he was falling in love with other girls. Your smile barely faltered.

Why did you do that to yourself all that time, he still wonders. But then again he’d have to ask himself why his impatience, or rather lack of understanding, led him to kiss you when you were both visiting your families for the holidays, back from college.

Rin remembers the snow, the umbrella you were holding trying to clumsily cover him too. He remembers you were babbling some nonsense about how proud you were of him, of his career, the way you always knew he was destined to great things, his blue lock jersey still stored safely in the back of your closet. Rin remembers the way he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, dry and chapped from the cold. Was that truly the only way to get you to shut up? He doesn’t know. He just knows he didn’t expect you to take a step back, thank him for walking you home. The kiss was never mentioned again, the following day you acted like it never happened and he was glad he could carry on without the burden of weird expectations. Well, almost completely glad.

He didn’t kiss you because he liked you or desired something as unnecessary as a relationship, he’s sure of that. He just wanted to, in that moment. A stupid whim. And if the urge of shutting you up in the softest way has possessed him multiple times after that day and throughout the years, out of mere curiosity or simple convenience, he’s never really admitted it to himself. 

You showed up one day, never left, are still part of his life. It’s an axiom he’d never expect to change. Perhaps he finds some comfort in it.

“You really can’t hang out tomorrow? ”, you’re doing that thing you always do when you’re disappointed, furrowed brows over big eyes that are rapidly losing their usual glow as you blink a few times. He sighs.

“I really can’t”.

“How long are you in town for?”.

“A few days”, he pauses for a second, then decides to concede, “we’ll have plenty of time”.

The way your lips immediately curl into a sweet smile almost makes him crack one too. Rin also loves how you never change.

“Oooh, you wanna hang out with me so bad!”.

“Shut up”.

“We’ll have plenty of time! Because I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world!”.

“Now you’re really pushing it”.

You laugh again, something tender settling over your features. He once more recognizes the affection in your gaze and has to look away.

Rin has hated October 10 for as long as he can remember.

It wasn’t always like that, as a kid it was a special day he got to celebrate his favorite person on. His brother went from being his personal hero and best friend, to a stranger he couldn’t recognize, to an adult he tries to have a decent relationship with, now. Still, October 10 is a hassle. If Sae is in town, something he tries to do for their sake, their parents always insist on having a small birthday celebration at home.

His mother spends hours decorating the living room, orders a cake so big it would require at least ten additional guests, they have so many gifts ready and wrapped by the table. For the past few years, Rin has been getting his brother a gift too. Not exactly a peace offering but the promise of getting there, perhaps.

It infuriates him that Sae still acts perfectly normal around him, never hostile, indifferent at best. They barely talk to each other but Rin doesn’t want to spend his entire life seething, he doesn’t want for one single feeling to define him anymore. So he also accepts the birthday gifts his brother sends him on September 9.

It’s just a day, he mentally repeats, it will be over soon. But he doesn’t expect the doorbell to ring, everything has already been delivered and they didn't invite anyone.

Rin certainly doesn’t expect you, standing on his doorstep with a million dollar smile and clearly hiding something behind your back.

“What are you doing here?”, he’s frozen, in disbelief. You’re not supposed to be there.

“Surprise!”, you grin, “look what I finally found!”.

You’re suddenly holding something so close to his face he has to take a moment to focus to understand what he’s looking at. It’s a horror game, one he’s looked everywhere for because they don’t sell those anymore. Rin only mentioned it once but of course you mentally took note and conducted your own, personal research. It must’ve costed you a fortune. You’re such an idiot.

“It’s not a good time”, he takes a step back, hoping you’ll get the hint and do the same. Your smile falls.

“I know. I just wanted to drop this off. Here”, you hand him the neatly packed gift. Rin takes it, then meets your gaze for a second. He wants to say something, apologize, but you’ve already turned your back to him and are quickly granting his wish of being left alone. He asks himself how much patience you have left, how close you are to abandoning him and his asshole ways for good.

“Who are you?”.

Rin freezes a second time, the voice behind him so close and oddly interested. You stop in your tracks, whip around to look at someone who isn’t him. Something hard flashes across your features but it’s quickly whisked away when you offer one of your usual, polite smiles.

“No one, I was just passing by”.

Something inside Rin cracks. No one? You can hardly ever shut up about being his friend. 

Sae hums.

“You should come in. There’s extra cake”.

When their mom catches sight of you, she also invites you in and there’s really no turning back from that. You’re too well mannered, too acquainted with his family to refuse. So you indulge them.

From the kitchen, he observes something he never thought would (or should) happen. Sae, the most infuriatingly detached, impassive person on the planet, is sitting next to you on the couch, where you’re making polite conversation. He’s listening. Rin knows he’s listening because he keeps his eyes on you, stance relaxed. Who knows what nonsense you’re rambling about this time, unfinished cake in the paper plate balanced on your knees. He says something, you chuckle. Rin focuses on his own unfinished cake, suddenly nauseous.

All these years, this is the one thing he didn’t want to happen, you meeting his brother. It’s petty and childish and Rin isn’t even quite sure why the desire to keep you from him has burned ardently this entire time but the fact that his efforts have vanished in the space of one afternoon brings a strange weariness.

By the time you excuse yourself, his parents are begging you to stay over for dinner. You refuse, thank them, thank Sae the most and wish him the happiest birthday. He dismisses your formality with the vague wave of a hand, says he hopes to meet you again. You smile sweetly.

“There’s no need”.

Rin ignores your objection similarly to how you ignored him the entire afternoon, finishes buttoning up his coat instead. He always walks you home and today will be no exception.

The silence between you two is so uncharacteristic it irritates him, to the point of affliction. Are you that upset with him? Ah, the magic must’ve finally flickered out.

“So, how was it?”, he spitefully pushes, “meeting the legendary brother”.

You keep your gaze on the street.

“It was okay”.

Rin scoffs.

“Just okay? You two really hit it off”.

“He was kind to me”.

“I’m sure he was”.

You finally stop in your tracks to look at him.

“Just because we’re friends it doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole all the time, you know”.

Rin stops too, lips parted, breath condensating into a tiny cloud by his mouth. The serious look you’re fixing him with makes his shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry”, he murmurs. Your gaze softens and he hates it, how easy it is for you to cut him some slack.

“Can you tell me what’s really wrong, Rin?”.

He feels like throwing up.

“Nothing is wrong”.

You hum, pensive, take the time to kick a tiny rock with the tip of your boot.

“I really think you should give yourself some grace. You deserve some peace”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“It means you’re so focused on protecting yourself from imaginary threats, you can’t see”.

“See what?”.

You offer a sad smile.

“How bright you shine”.

Rin is so taken aback he doesn’t know what to say, surprise paralyzing his entire body. He hasn’t felt like this in a while, perhaps years. It’s not fair that you have access to such a vulnerable side of him, it’s not fair that he can suddenly sense a weird lump in his throat.

“I don’t shine-”, he spits the word out, disgusted.

You’re usually very careful about his boundaries, whether they’re a hoax or not. But this time? You do something you’ve never done before, roughly take his face in your cold hands to make sure he keeps his gaze on you instead of avoiding it like a coward.

“You shine, Rin. I’m so tired of you being the only one refusing to see it. You’re the most resilient, talented, hardworking person I know. You did good. But the challenge is over, there is no war anymore, you don’t have to persist in this stubborn seclusion”, your eyes are suddenly wet, tears precariously collecting in your lash line, “you get to rest, now. Please, be proud of yourself and rest. There’s nothing to be on your guard against”.

He doesn’t remember his heart ever squeezing as painfully in his chest before, the urge to take your face in his hands making the pads of his fingers itch. He doesn’t remember the last time he came so close to let a few tears fall.

He’s gonna take you too. Just like he takes everything from me.

The thought takes his breath away for a moment. He feels your thumb gently stroke his cheek.

“You’re the legendary brother to me, anyway”, you smile, then sniffle.

Has he split himself wide open for you or are you simply that good at reading him? Rin can feel his hands shake when they fist the fabric of your plush jacket.

“Why are you telling me this?”, he can barely recognize the desperation vibrating in his own voice, “why do you even put up with me?”.

You blink a few times, astonished. Then smile again, warm and bright like the sun. Oh, he doesn’t shine, you do.

“Because I love you, obviously”.

And Rin doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to wonder what you mean. He knows. He’s known all this time.

“Why did you never tell me?”.

“Because you wouldn’t have let me do it in peace”, you chuckle, “you don’t like me like that so you wouldn’t have let me love you. As if I needed something in return. As if loving you as a friend couldn’t possibly be enough, anyway”.

His fingers are hurting from how tightly he’s still fisting the fabric of your jacket. It feels like his insides are exploding with a million different emotions and he doesn’t have nearly enough time to interpret them. But does he really need that, after all? Time. He’s known you for so long. 

“Stop putting up a fight, silly”, you let go of his face but flick his forehead, to which he grimaces, surprised, “let me love you. I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world after all! Who cares about your stupid brother? No wait, that came out mean, I just meant I care more about you than-”

Rin’s sudden embrace is suffocating, you’re pressed against him so tightly you genuinely struggle taking a single breath. You don’t remember him ever hugging you, the most noteworthy intentional contact you can recall is his arm around your shoulders when you insisted on taking a cute selfie, once. Every other hug, you had always initiated. His arms were always loose around you, cautious, despite his forehead often resting on your shoulder.

His clothes smell nice. He smells nice. You close your eyes, bask in a warmth so strange yet familiar. You don’t think you’ll ever love someone the way you love him.

“You’re so stupid”, Rin murmurs against your neck. With a smile, you nuzzle your face further into his chest.

“So I’ve been told”.

He thinks his heart might be seconds away from slamming itself free from his ribcage.

“Can you tell me again?”.

“What, that I don’t care about your brother? Sure, fuck Itoshi Sae. Oh no, that was also way too mean, don’t tell him I said-”

Rin pulls away abruptly, hands kept on your shoulders to keep you there or maybe to steady himself. You shut your mouth, don’t comment damp cheeks dusted with pink. It may be the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him.

“Not that, you idiot”, his pitch is gentle, with a hint of amusement. One of his hands cradles your cheek, thumb gently skimming over your lips.

“I love you”, it comes out less bold now, timid. Something melts in his chest all the same.

“Will you pretend it never happened, if I kiss you now?”.

Your exhale is shaky.

“No”.

All these years and this is the first time you’re seeing Itoshi Rin truly, openly smile. The sight does something funny to your stomach.

“Good”.

[will80sbyers]

About Finn's answer at the panel (I was there!!), think about it guys... If Mlvn was clearly the only real/requited relationship between the two and there wasn't supposed to be any doubt about it, Finn could've easily said "Byler is cool as an idea, I love the passion of the fans, but we saw last season that Mike truly loves El so... that's why I would go with Mlvn". But he didn't. At the beginning he acted like there was an actual choice to be made, like 50-50, and then he realized people were screaming at the mention of Byler and would take his "non answer" as a Byler proof so I think he got scared and kinda backtracked and went with Mlvn. That's the energy I felt in the room, but maybe I'm wrong.

The thing is, the fact that they act like talking about Byler vs Mlvn in the first place is a spoiler leans towards Byler endgame to me. Because if it's an actual love triangle, if Byler was a real possibility, it would automatically become the endgame. Just because of the narrative/storytelling of the whole thing. It also wouldn't have shocked me if they chose to hide it completely like David Harbour in that one panel. They could easily all (Finn, Noah, etc.) have been instructed to say "Mike loves El, so it doesn't seem like Byler can happen", and Byler could still happen in season 5 because it's a plot twist!

clearly the love triangle IS a thing happening in season 5

them keeping the option of byler open is a big tell and the marketing using the love triangle imagery was also a big tell, they want people to think byler does have a possibility to happen or they would have shut it down YEARS ago.

[some-triangles]

Theatre of Coolty! As Bee has pointed out that it's been ten years since I wrote the thing, here's a few thoughts:

-It holds up! I'm not embarrassed by it. This is a solid piece of fan fiction.

-This should be one of those situations where I'm Feeling Old Yet but it isn't. So much has happened in the last decade that it feels like I wrote this story in another lifetime. Don't ever let anyone tell you that life ends at any particular age. The world wants you to be boring but you don't have to be.

-You know what the dialogue in this thing reminds me of now? Dangan Rompa V3. How about that. Hussie/Dirk has a real whack of Kokichi about him, right down to the robot bullying.

-I can reveal now that I wrote this partially to impress an Australian butch I was pining for. This raises the question: why does Australia produce so many life-altering butches? This has happened to me and my friends too many times to be a coincidence.

-The actual point I wanted to make there before I got distracted is that art is inherently libidinal. You make things to grace your bower. Lean into it: it works.

[envy-of-the-apple]

I've been reading all your jjk works and notice most of them having older mc. You wrote gojo with an older woman a lot, how about doing geto with middle age jujutsu teacher

Mc is not strong and barely considered a jujutsu sorcerer with her ct that basically numbs her or others senses like a potent anesthetic, its not really useful in a fight but the best thing for geto. With her ct she can numb his taste buds completely and he never has to taste the disgusting curse ball ever again. And plus mc is actually a really nice and caring teacher. The kind of teacher that uses different study methods to suit different students. The kind of teacher that immediately pick up when students are feeling down. But when geto expresses how much he is fond of her not just as her student she takes it as puppy love that he will soon get over it when he gets older and she only saw him as her student. She said something like "maybe when you graduate we can have this talk again" and geto took it to heart only for his beloved teacher getting purpose from other people(non-sorcer that you happened to help one time). Oh... How sad he is... He thought you would wait for him. And you would finally become part of his family with nanako and mimiko after all you help him raise both of them why are you leaving for some Monkey

I like this idea! But what about making the Mc a nurse instead???

(TW: Blood, implied murder, yandere)

You aren’t even a trained jujutsu sorcerer. You were scouted pretty late, far past high school. Because of that, you don’t have much potential, not that you were upset or anything. You’re still a high school nurse, but instead of treating students with the occasional flu, you treat teenagers who fight demons.

It’s pretty haunting to see, especially as an outsider of jujutsu. But you can’t do anything. You might be semi-important to the school, but you’re still just another rung on the ladder. So you keep your head down, as you always do.

It’s only natural you develop favorites. It’s a second year. Shoko Ieiri. She’s set to be your predecessor, having a much more powerful CT than you do. You don’t mind being in her shadow. The short time you spent in the jujutsu world was hard enough. At least now you know you wont be leaving behind a hole.

Geto is close behind. He’s a quiet boy, well-mannered, well-spoken. Far better than his white haired brat of a companion. It isn’t often he comes for injuries, but when accidents do happen, you’re sure to lecture him while tending to his injuries.

Maybe one day you get curious enough to ask what curses taste like. Maybe that day, he finally decides to be honest.

On tinier areas, like the tongue, your CT can last for hours. You try it out just once when he’s called to dispatch a first grade. He comes back that day with eyes brighter than anything you’ve ever seen.

It continues like that. When he’s called for an exorcism, he finds you. It’s like a goodbye ritual. You and him sit on the exam table, his mouth open wide as you diligently apply your curse technique, careful not to miss a single corner. He often tells you that you saved his life. You didn’t know he meant that so sincerely.

He confesses to you a year after Riko’s death.

Hes like a kid. He is a kid, staring down at you with hopeful eyes, not even a day over 18. You know what you should do. Rip the band-aide off, nice and clean. He deserves that.

But...you just cant break his heart like that, so you lie.

You tell him when he's older. You tell him after graduation. You tell him to wait. He readily does. You hope in a couple years hed be too embarrassed to ask you again. His adult brain would kick in and nag at him. His friends might too. Maybe when he comes back as a fully-fledged sorcerer, you two could laugh about this.

Your last straw is Haibara.

You quit the school. you walk away from jujutsu sorcery. It's hard, because its been your life for years, but leaving hurts less than staying.

You don't tell geto. You just leave. Abandon him.

You go back to your old job. A normal high school, treating normal high school students. Years pass like that. You move on with your normal life.

And then you meet a normal man. Quiet, well-mannered, the ever slightest gray in his hair. He's perfect. When he gives you the ring, it was the happiest you'd ever been.

Geto finds you two years after your marriage.

It's almost surreal meeting him again, seeing him in your quiet apartment. There's so much blood. His fingers are dripping in it.

He smiles. "So, had time to think it over?"

You were half right. One day, Geto did come back as a full-fledged sorcerer.

But neither of you laughed about it.

[no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist]

Sorry it is 3AM and my field of study is more based on climate adaptation and mitigation as opposed to the hard science behind how climate systems work so I may not be able to explain this perfectly.

However. Unless I am completely misremembering David Wallace-Wells’ work, while it is true that scientific predictions for the degree of warming that we expect has come down over the past couple decades or so, the predictions for the severity of impacts that we will see at lower levels of warming have increased. So that is just really not an honest way of framing what he’s talking about. I believe Genevieve Guenther has a really well written criticism of the claims he makes in her book The Language of Climate Politics if anyone is interested in that.

It is important to understand that at present levels of warming we are seeing impacts that were expected at higher levels. And many climate scientists are massively concerned about this.

And like. Sure this still doesn’t mean that we’re all going to live through some sort of sci fi apocalypse movie. However I am from Florida. I expect many of the places I grew up around to become uninhabitable within my lifetime due to a combination of sea level rise, hurricanes, and extreme heat.

Also, sure we do technically have greater capabilities to adapt and respond to natural disasters. But like. I am currently in the works of beginning a semester long research project into sea level rise adaptation and we absolutely are not prepared for the scale of disasters that future climate impacts will bring. Hell we’re not even prepared for what’s happening now. My hometown was still recovering from major infrastructure damage from Hurricane Ian from 2022 when it was hit by both Milton and Helene over the course of THREE WEEKS. Like you have to realize that these horrible things that you see on the news still have effects years down the line after you’ve stopped hearing about it.

And it is also true that scientists cannot rule out the possibility of human extinction. I do not say this to fear monger. But people deserve to know that. Like we are very likely going to hit potentially major tipping points within our lifetimes.

Also. I am so sorry but choosing to believe that demand for renewables and technological innovation will save us is bullshit. The market will not work this out. Speaking as someone who is in the built environment fields there are tons of sectors other than just energy that are much more difficult to decarbonize. And the fantasy belief that like. “Green growth” on a finite planet will save us from climate disaster is just wrong. I am so sorry. But no. I can try to follow this up with more resources tomorrow. But no. This entire post is so full of misinformation that I just. I cannot figure out how to coherently explain this. Just no.

Also I am so sorry but we are not fucking going to re lower global temperatures through net negative emissions. That is literally the most absolutely bullshit claim. Jesus fucking Christ. Literally any amount of digging into carbon capture technologies will reveal that it is bullshit. It is quite literally just a bullshit diversion tactic from fossil fuel companies. All of the really great cool studies you keep seeing about how carbon capture is going to save us are being funded by them. I believe that like. Fucking Columbia Climate School is taking a ton of funding from them last I checked. It is just an excuse for fossil fuel companies to be able to keep emitting and to make people feel like the change necessary to actually tackle the climate crisis isn’t necessary. When it is. It is the same shit as tobacco companies funding studies into literally any other cause of lung cancer other than smoking.

Just like. Let’s please have a little bit of reading comprehension here too. Like okay we have avoided truly apocalyptic levels of global heating? For who? For the residents of island nations whose land will no longer be habitable due to sea level rise? For the 1,301 people who died on the Hajj pilgrimage when temperatures exceeded 50C/122F? For the people in Asheville, North Carolina who were found dead in trees because they jumped out of their upper story apartment windows and tried to climb when the water rose too high? In a town that is thousands of feet above sea level and hundreds of miles from the coast. Be so fucking serious with me right now.

This is a moment that is unprecedented within geologic history. Much less within the time that has provided a stable climate for our species to evolve. We are currently living within a mass extinction. That is fucking apocalyptic. I do not say this to fear monger. I do say this because people have the right to have an accurate understanding of what is happening so that people can understand the urgency of the present moment. I do not say this to spread the idea that things are so bad that we’re doomed and should just give up. Because that is also a horrible way of looking at this and is also very unproductive. But like. People don’t need to be lied to. People need to be educated on the actual realities of the current situation. This is not a fight that ends unless we get to the absolute worst case scenario of human extinction. Which to be clear is not something that is expected. It is just something that cannot be ruled out. Just please please do not spread this misinformation. I can try to follow this up with more resources tomorrow and do a better job of evaluating the things they’re saying and the sources they’re using.

We have already averted truly apocalyptic levels of global warming.

Yes, read that again. Let it sink in. This is what the science now says. We have already averted truly apocalyptic global warming.

To quote David Wallace-Wells, author of The Uninhabitable Earth, from his huge feature in the New York Times:

"Thanks to astonishing declines in the price of renewables, a truly global political mobilization, a clearer picture of the energy future and serious policy focus from world leaders, we have cut expected warming almost in half in just five years... The window of possible climate futures is narrowing, and as a result, we are getting a clearer sense of what’s to come: a new world, full of disruption but also billions of people, well past climate normal and yet mercifully short of true climate apocalypse." (New York Times, October 22, 2022. Unpaywalled here. Emphasis mine. And yes, this vision of the future is backed up by the current science on the issue, as he explains at length in the article.)

So we've already averted truly apocalyptic warming, and we've already cut expected warming IN HALF in just the past five years.

The pace of technology, of innovation, of prices, of feasibility, of discovery, of organizing, of grassroots movements, of movements in other countries around the world, have all picked up the pace so fast in the last five years.

Renewable technology and capacity are both increasing at an exponential rate. It's all S-curves, ones that look like this:

-via The Economist, June 20, 2024.

How much more will we manage in another five years? Another ten? Another twenty?

I know the US is about to fucking suck about the environment for the next four years. But the momentum of renewable energy is far too much to stop - both in the US (x) and around the world.

(Huge shoutouts to India, China, and Brazil for massive gains for the environment in renewables, and Brazil for massive progress against Amazon deforestation.)

We're going to get there.

Say it with me. We're going to get there.

[hamiltonfc]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆⭒˚｡⋆ MOTH TO A FLAME; JUDE BELLINGHAM (Chapter One)

➤ Summary: Kaia tells Jude about her new beau, throwing yet another spanner in the works of their already complicated relationship.

➤ Pairing: Jude Bellingham x F!OC

➤ Warnings: Swearing, Food mention.

➤ Discussion tag: #my works: moth to a flame (if you ever have any questions about the story, release schedule, etc. my inbox is always open.)

➤ Word Count: 2,254

TAGLIST | SERIES PLAYLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Kaia’s POV

The dial tone wasn’t unfamiliar when it came to my relationship with Jude. Over the past few years, phone calls between us have been the main way of communicating with my best friend. With him away in either Germany or Spain, or with myself at my home in Surrey, or away on a film set somewhere, phone calls or long text threads were the best I could get. 

But this call was different. Jude was finally back home in England. Not for long, just for a week or so during the winter break in the Spanish season. It just so happened that I had made the journey up from Surrey to be home with my family for Christmas, so it was only a matter of time before I picked up my phone, ready to call him. 

“Hello?” I heard at the other end of the line when Jude picked up. “Who’s this? The number kinda looked like this girl who last spoke to me about three weeks ago, but, you know, I could be mistaken.”

“Jude,” I say, deadpan. “I swear to God, the day you answer a phone call in a somewhat normal way, that’s when I’ll know the aliens have invaded.”

“I find offence in the fact that’s not the first time you’ve referred to aliens when talking about me,” his smirk was obvious through the way he spoke, it’s not like I’d never heard him speak that way before. “Anyway, stranger, what’s up? Miss my pretty face?”

“Always. But no, I need you to come over,” I stand up from where I was lying on my bed and walk over to my desk, taking a seat on the chair in front of it. 

“You need me to, huh? You should’ve said, Baby, I’d have been over already.” 

“Jesus,” I pinch the bridge of my nose, slumping further back into the chair in feigned annoyance. 

“My name’s Jude, actually, but close enough.”

“Please, Jude. I need to tell you something,” I twist my body, swinging the desk chair side to side a little, nerves creeping up to my heart, which is pounding in my chest. 

“God, I love it when you beg,” Jude whispers, voice a little more serious than it had been before. “Sorry, uhm, I’ll be over in ten. See you soon, Darling.”

****

*knock knock knock*

“FBI, open up!” Jude yells, in the worst American accent I might’ve ever heard (and I’ve been an actor my whole life so I’ve heard some terrible ones), from the other side of my door. He swings the door open, and his beaming face is the first thing I see when he’s revealed. 

I furrow my brows, staring at him with a disappointed look on my face for a few seconds. “Remind me, Jude, why the fuck are we friends?”

Jude places his hand against his chest, mouth open in fake, way too dramatic, offence. “Because we love each other, duh? Did you like it, though? It’s like that show you like, Criminal Brains or whatever it’s called.” He throws himself onto the bed beside me, landing on his stomach, before pushing up onto his forearms, leaning in towards me with only one thing on his mind.

“No,” I whisper, my hand gently placed on his collarbone as I push him back. “I need to talk to you first.”

“Oh,” Jude says with a nod. He grabs one of the many pillows on my bed and tucks it under his head, getting into a more comfortable position so he can look at me properly. Before Jude speaks, I see a look pass across his face, one that I can read instantly. “It’s serious enough that you don’t want to kiss me? Okay,” he drags out the vowels, chocolate brown eyes landing on mine, and at that moment I can do nothing but stare into them. 

My eyes flutter away from his, too scared to look at him during what I’m about to tell him, the weight of his gaze upon me enough to knock my mind off balance. 

“We can’t do this anymore,” I say softly, lips barely moving, but they fall loud and clear upon Jude’s ears. 

“We can’t do what anymore?” He knows. I knew he’d know what I would tell him when I refused to kiss him. But that’s what Jude is like, he is always going to give me space to tell him in my own time. He knows that’s how I want this to go. 

“Whatever we’ve been doing for the past however many years,” it’s then when I look at him, the image of his face etched into my brain of what I imagined he looked like in the moment, and I wasn’t wrong. 

Jude shakes his head, breaking eye contact, his jaw tight, before looking right back at me. “Why?”

“I have a boyfriend.” Silence washes over the room. Only sounds of our breathing can be heard and the ruffling of the bedding when I shift my body towards Jude. “We, uhm, we met on set a few months back and we hit it off, so… yeah. We’re now together.”

I give Jude a tight-lipped smile. He nods slowly in response, eyes wandering around my room. “I’m happy for you.” There it is. Four simple words, but they’re exactly what I expected him to say. He is so predictable. 

“So,” Jude slaps his thighs as he moves to sit up, almost falling backwards due to the lack of support from the mattress underneath him, but his strong core just about manages to complete the manoeuvre. “What’s your mom cooking?”

“A roast, but ab-”

“A roast? Oh, get in, I fucking love your mom’s roasts. Don’t tell my mom but, if I’m being completely honest, I prefer your mom’s Yorkshire puddings,” he smiles, but I can tell in the way he’s moving, his body language, the way his eyes can’t hold contact with mine for longer than three seconds, that he’s trying to distract himself from everything that’s going through his mind. “Mine does do better roast potatoes, though. They’re crispier.” 

“Jude,” I say sharply, placing a hand on his thigh in an attempt to bring him back to reality a little, as I stare at his heaving chest. “Slow the fuck down, yeah?” My stare is wide and long as my hand moves up and down his thigh, the only thing separating our skin are his grey sweatpants. “Take a breath, next time.”

He nods, his hand instinctually moving to grasp mine, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it go, knowing that if he held on any longer he wouldn’t want to let go at all. “Quick question,” his eyes meet mine. “Why are we having a roast when you’re coming round mine for Christmas dinner in three days?”

I shrug. “Think of it as a pre-roast. You know how my mum gets when she’s not hosting, she can’t sit still to save her life, the roast dinner is just a product of that.”

“Cool,” Jude nods. “Two roast dinners in a week is a lot better than all the nutritional shit I have to eat throughout the season, anyway.”

I let out a quiet laugh, pulling my hand out from underneath his. “Anyway,” I take a deep breath. “As I was trying to say, about the dinner, Noah, my boyfriend, is coming over to eat with us.”

“Okay,” Jude’s voice fades out as he says, a confused look on his face.

“I mean,” I tell him. “It’s up to you, you can stay and meet him if you want, I don’t mind. Like I understand if you don’t want to, but, like I said, it’s completely up to you.”

Jude scoffs. “And like I said, I want that roast dinner. Of course, I’m staying.”

“Right then, I get up from my bed, stretching and letting out a yawn, catching Jude looking at the sliver of my belly that appears when I raise my hands over my head. “We best get downstairs and set the table, because we both know that sister of mine won’t have done it.” 

****

“You do know you have legs, right?” I say to my fifteen-year-old sister, Olivia, as soon as I enter the dining room only to find that the table hadn’t already been set like I had previously hoped. 

My sister only lets out a grunt and shrugs at my words. 

“You alright, Liv?” Jude grabs the coasters, placing one in front of each chair, making sure to count one extra than usual for Noah.

Olivia gives Jude the same grunt as the one that she gave me. 

“Remember when we were like that?” I nudge Jude with my elbow, setting up everyone’s cutlery. 

“What, when we hated everyone and everything that wasn’t on our phones? Yeah, that was rough,” a reminiscent look passes across Jude’s face before I slap him in the tummy with the placemats. 

“Come on, slacker, you going to put them down before I whack you round the head with them, or what?” I giggle, making my way into the kitchen to see if my mum needs any help. 

I see Jude smile at me over my shoulder as he watches me walk away. “You alright, Mum? Need help with anything?”

“No, I’m alright, thanks, Love. You go and sit down, I’ll bring the food through in a bit,” she flashes a smile at me before opening the oven up, and checking on the beef and potatoes. 

I turn on my heel, walking back into the dining room when my little brother appears at the doorway. “Judey!” he yells as soon as he spots my best friend. 

My youngest sibling, Leo, runs at Jude, causing him to stop everything he’s doing before he leans down to pick up the little boy. 

“Hello, little man, how are you doing?” Jude squeezes him as tight as he can. In the time that Jude and Leo had known each other, which was the entirety of Leo’s seven years on the planet, they had built up an amazing relationship. Leo considered Jude to be one of his best friends and even went as far as saying that Jude loved him more than me. If he only knew. 

“I’m not too good,” I watch as Leo pouts up at Jude after he’s placed him back on the ground. 

“Why not, Kid?” Jude’s brows furrow, continuing his work setting the table while also giving the small boy as much attention as he can. 

“I’ve been doing my homework all day because Mummy said I had to and if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to play Roblox later.” 

“Well, we can’t be having that, can we?” Jude smiles when Leo shakes his head and lets out a heavy sigh. “So, did you get it all done?”

“I did,” Leo nods, a proud smile on his face. 

“Good kid,” Jude ruffles his hair before he spots me, leaning against the doorframe, watching their interaction. 

“Go and take a seat, Leo,” soft thuds against the floor can be heard as he runs to his chair next to his older sister. “Mum says dinner will be ready soon.”

I sit down in my usual spot, with Jude going to take the seat right next to me before changing his mind and walking around the table to sit in the seat directly across from me instead. 

Jude and I engage in barely thirty seconds of conversation before it’s broken up by the sound of the doorbell ringing. I feel my expression change immediately, to one full of nerves. Jude notices that immediately, watching me in anticipation as I get up from my seat. 

“That’ll be him,” I say, leaving no room for Jude to reply because I’m out of the room in seconds, making my way towards the door. 

“Hey, Babe,” Noah says in his thick American accent as soon as I open the door. 

I move to the side, signalling for him to come in. “Hi,” I say, my words a lot more muted than the bubbly voice that he’s used to. 

Noah shrugs his coat off as he steps inside and I grab it from him, turning to hang it on one of the hooks beside the door. He leans down, pressing a quick kiss on my lips. “You okay?” His brows furrow together as he analyses my face. 

“Yeah,” I nod, smiling up at him. “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet,” I tell him, leading him into the dining room after about a minute of being gone. 

As soon as Noah and I enter the room, I notice Jude look Noah up and down the moment his eyes land on him. He takes in his outfit, his tanned skin and his blonde hair. I can practically see the moment where he acknowledges that he’s not my type, no that that matters, he doesn’t know my type to be anything other than himself. 

“Noah,” I turn to him, a slight smile on my face. “You’ve already met my brother and sister,” I can feel Jude watching me as I point at the kids beside him. I can also see his face change slightly, most likely to show his disdain at the fact that I let Noah into my house before ever telling him about our relationship. “And this,” My gaze falls upon Jude, prompting Noah to look at him for the first time this evening. “Is Jude. My best friend.”

Taglist: @eunoiasgoal @4evermyownmuse

If you would like to support my work make sure to like and reblog this post, and if you're able, consider buying me a pastry! (I also take writing commissions if anyone would like one).

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Hedgehog, porcupine, it's the same thing (pt.5)"

or "Something made a hole in my backyard pt.5"

Shadow the Hedghog x reader (platonic)

Notes: I finally have connection again!!! This part feels a little of to me but anyway, leave a comment if you want to be in the taglist or leave a comment if you liked it! ENJOY!

Part 4.

It happened so fast that you could barely process it, the creature looked at the room, then at you, then at the window and in a red flash it disappeared.

For only a fraction of a second, because as soon as it disappeared it appeared right back, but now besides your bedroom's window.

It fell to the floor with a thud and you swore you heard it say something.

But that would be ridiculous, animals don't talk.

"What the fu-?" You didn't even finished your question when the thing turned around to look at you.

The room was silent. Everything felt like it was made of very thin glass, and any sudden move coul shatter it all.

You crouched.

You didn´t know if you wanted to make yourself less intimidating or if you just wanted to be able to protect your hole body in case it tried to move again.

And so, you both just looked at each other. It was really the first time you had stopped to look at the creature so closely.

It´s eyes were red, but not just any red, they were crimson like blood on the outer part of the iris with a warmer fire-like red on the center. It had fur which looked super soft covering all of it´s body, but there was something like spikes coming out of it´s head.

Yeahhh, you knew what animal it reminded you of...

"Hey there" you said softly as not to scare it.

"Who are you and where am I?" the creature demanded more than asked.

"Holy shit, you can TALK!!??"

"Where am I? Did G.U.N sent you?" It had now started to get on it´s feet and speak louder, though it still seemed as in pain.

Everything about what was happening felt kind of surreal to you, one thing a little more than anything else.

"Why do you sound like Keanu Reeves?"

"Is that another agent? I will kill you in seconds if you don´t answer my questions" It furrowed something that you assumed were his eyebrows.

But between everything that was happening you suddenly lost balance in your crouching position, and fell on your back. When you managed to sit on the floor you found yourself with the sight of the alienish creature which had also fallen flat on it´s bottom, presumably trying to protect itself from you.

So then you were both sitting in the ground.

"I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot" you started to say, as calmly as you could. "I´m not here to hurt you, you were the one who crashed on my backyard".

It kept on looking at you as if you were going to attack it at any moment, so you decided to give him something more, you told him your name.

"Shadow" It... He answered back, though it felt more as an attempt to get you to shut up than anything. More time passed in silence.

And so you got up, and left.

Shadow just sat there, slightly confused, but soon enough he weakly got on his feet and turned towards the window. He tried to give a step, but all of his muscles ached at it. He felt helpless. He hated feeling helpless, it reminded him of the cryo tube he was kept in for fifty years.

His efforts did not last too long either, as he felt two warm hands pick him up from under his armpits and sit him back down on the bed. Even though he slightly hissed at the pain and tried to fight back his efforts were usless and he found himself comfortably sat against the cushions.

You smiled at him and apologized for any discomfort that you may had caused, then you offered him a pastry (your aunt Maddie had brought them for tea).

He picked one up, and after a troughout examination, which to you kind of looked as a cat smelling something to see if it was food or not, he actually took a bite.

It was actually nice, and it had a slight bitter taste to it.

"So... are you some kind of porcupine?"

"I´m a hedghog and the ultimate life form" He answered back with still looking angry, but his voice had slightly less bite to it. You smiled kindly back as you held back a laugh.

"Hedghog, porcupine, it´s the same thing."

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing

[archerdepartures116]

Archer how to anatomy? I've attempted to draw the same pose 3 times already..I'm getting better but the arms are so fucking hard to draw..

I'm probably the last person on earth you should be asking for anatomy tips but here are the things that has worked out for me cause I am lazy and hate practicing fundamentals so most of this was just passive learning accumulated during just years of drawing in general

Also more things to keep in mind:

-Bone and muscle structure: learn how the muscles connect (especially when drawing busts, learn how the muscles of the neck overlap) and how the bones affect visual appearance on the skin (protrusions such as shoulder blades and collar bones)

-Proportions: learn the proportions of the body

"but Archer, what about stylization like chibis?" Even then, stylization requires a degree of understanding about the anatomy of whatever being ur drawing. For example, if your character has an arm or hand that is bigger than the other intentionally, fine, that's how the design is. But if it's not intentional, its not an art style. That's a mistake.

Basically don't let pride get in the way of learning tbh (my dad flamed me on this enough ( mf my greatest hater fr)) (I am still struggling with this don't be me and actually learn from ur mistakes and study)

But what if you don't wanna practice all that bullshit and jump straight to the fun part and draw your favs?

Use them as the character practice. Obsession is the pathway to glory.

But, of course, take everything I say with a grain of salt, I am no professional and just so happened to be able to stumble my way through shit without many ppl directly telling me "wow you suck ass at drawing *insert death threat here*"

Most importantly, reference the masters or whatever artist inspires you. If they have speed paints, watch how they construct the body and how they render it

[chock-and-bates]

if you're still doing it, what is get him back about?

(and for the other anon that mentioned it! but i'll be using your ask to post about the other story you asked about ❤️)

get him back! is my silly little fic for bearnelli (also heavy on lestappen [ofc] and some chollie)

Premise: Kimi’s been down bad for Ollie for over a year. But ever since their rookie f1 season started, he’s been beyond jealous that all his friend can seem to talk about is Charles Leclerc.  When he realizes that Ollie genuinely likes Charles, is, in fact, infatuated enough to consider making a move, he loses it and goes to Max for advice.  Surprisingly, Max turns out to be very willing to help Kimi get his man (while also staking a claim on his.)

this one is fun because i have two outlines and it might be a sillier 5 +1 thing or it might be a bit more toxic. i haven’t quite decided, but it will definitely include jealous kimi, jealous/possessive max, oblivious charles, and infatuated ollie (because @honeyandthunderstorms and I a chollie vision that is so fun, omg)... and some lestappen smut 😏.

Snippet under the cut!

“You seem upset,” Max tells Kimi carefully as they walk back through the paddock. “Are you all right?”

Glancing around, Kimi jerks his head to indicate Max to follow him to a quieter corner, one where he can speak more freely.

“Is Russell being a dickhead again,” Max asks, a little too knowingly. The Red Bull driver was always excited to hear about any issues that Kimi was having with his teammate.

“No, it is not George,” Kimi frowns, weighing how much to actually tell Max. It’s just- if he doesn’t talk to someone about this he thinks he’s going to explode.

“Then what?”

“It is Ollie.”

“Oh,” Kimi doesn’t like the teasing way Max smiles, his eyes crinkling, “What did Bearman do? I thought you two were mates?”

And look, Kimi could tell Max a lot about what Ollie has done. He could tell him how some nights Ollie is all Kimi can think about, or how one of his favorite things to do is make Ollie laugh, or maybe he could even tell Max about that wonderful, horrible kiss that happened last season…

But Kimi is not stupid, he knows better than to embarrass himself in front of someone like Max Verstappen.

In his angry state, he does not, however, have any issues with embarrassing Ollie.

“I need to get him to shut up about how in love he is with Leclerc.”

The smile quickly slides off Max's face.

“What?”

“He will not stop talking about Leclerc,” Kimi continues, already feeling himself getting worked up, “Any time we are hanging out, all I hear is ‘Charles said this’ or ‘I was watching Charles onboards’ or ‘Charles sat by me on the plane’. I cannot take anymore of him and his stupid crush! It is driving me crazy.”

Max has been listening closely, looking very serious all of a sudden, “You really think he has a crush?”

And Kimi knows he shouldn’t say anything more, should just leave it at that and keep Ollie’s secret. But the hurt and jealousy are still too overwhelming-

So Kimi scowls and continues, “I know he does, Max! Today I told him he should just kiss Leclerc already since he is so obsessed with him. Then he got all weird and asked me what I thought Leclerc would do if he did kiss him. Or if I thought Leclerc could ever like him.”

Max’s face twitches, “Oh, really?”

[bwat5-blog]

Continuing The Cycle

**Spoilers For Arcane**

Let me say to begin with, that nothing in this post is to downplay or brush off Piltover's oppression of Zaun. There will be some who read that and still scream at me, that's okay. I just want to be clear.

Many people on here more insightful and intelligent than I have spoken on this already, but it has been sticking with me lately so I wanted to get my thoughts out.

I have been quite free with dismantling some of the inane attempts at criticism of Arcane in this space. But, I promise I do actually understand everyone is entitled to their opinion. After all, how we connect with and understand art on an individual level is one of the things that make it so special. I have never, and will never come for someone who is simply stating their honest opinion based on the actual content in a respectful manner.

Where my issues come in, have to do with these wide-spread critiques/takes/stances that so directly undermine the meaning of the narrative they are best ignorant and at worst malicious. And more often than not rely on omission of details that negates their stance, or fabrication of details to support them. To that end, what I am discussing today is the black and white thinking that has permeated the fandom, poisoning understanding and appreciation of all corners of that narrative.

LET'S JUST GET IT OUT OF THE WAY:

*Before we get into the Arcane content, we need to discuss where a lot of this is coming from. I am just gonna get this out here right now, and there are some people who are gonna keel over reading it but if you are one of those folks I might as well not waste your time*

Arcane is not the Israeli–Palestinian conflict.

It could not be more clear that this is where a lot of this is coming from. Let me be explicitly clear, this is NOT a deep-dive or analysis of this conflict. This thing is immensely complicated . If you comment here with a "IT IS NOT COMPLICATED ITS" sort of comment I'm sorry to tell you but you are wrong. The modern phase of this has origins as far back as the late nineteenth century and there is more going back even further. I don't care if its a straight fucking line. Something going back that far has more to it than the average nerd like me is qualified to speak on. Now, that being said, I do understand to a degree why this is happening. Not like this conflict has ever really been settled but in the last few years especially things have really been active and generating a degree of media content I don't remember seeing this level of in my short 32 years. So in a world where everyone (myself included) is so plugged in and enveloped by social media, a lot of us are getting a more direct look at this than we really ever have. And we analyze and connect with art through the lens of the world around us to a point. But we CANNOT do so exclusively. Trying to force a narrative into a one-to-one comparison robs it of a tremendous amount of meaning. Because no matter how complex and intricate this story actually can be. IT IS NOT REALITY. I'm not getting into it here, that would be pages and pages of writing and I'm here to talk about Arcane. But I'm going to say this because it applies to real life and the show both and will take us into my actual point today.

The idea that anyone on one side must always be good and justified simply because they are the oppressed, while the other must always be evil, is juvenile, naïve, and fails to grasp even a fraction of the complexity of human nature

Some of you are going to have an absolute seizure reading me say that that statement applies to real life as well. I don't care. It takes time, maturity, and meeting people from all walks of life to understand things are not so simple.

BACK TO ARCANE:

But, that being said time to get back to business. How does this all apply to Arcane?

"The show should have ended with a civil war between Zaun and Piltover!"

"When Zaun arrived during the last battle Jinx should have unloaded on the Enforcers and the Noxians both!"

"They ruined Jinx's character! WTF do you mean she apologized for killing Caitlyn's mother? Her mom was part of the oppressive system that ruined Jinx's life and brought it on herself!"

"Silco did bad things but it was all to gain power to protect Zaun!"

"Poor little rich girl lost her mom and acts like it's a reason to punish an entire city with warcrimes. The people of Zaun have been suffering worse for their entire history"

"Rebel Vi I miss you! How dare they make you care about people in Piltover!"

"The coward show runners made Zaunites into boot-lickers fighting for Piltover wearing Enforcer armor at the end!"

You get the idea. I have seen variations of these and many more time and time again. Zaun should have let Piltover fall or even attacked themselves. Caitlyn deserved everything done to her because she's of the Piltovan elite. Every terrible thing Jinx or Silco did was totally and completely justified because of Piltovan oppression.

Now there are many angles I could come at this from. My usual one is simply addressing the astounding lack of logic in most of these sorts of arguments. For example, I can rope all of the people saying Zaun should have let Piltover fall into one category. People who forgot about this guy:

Like he was just gonna "evolve" Piltover than call it a day and zoot off into space with his new buddies. Obviously not and the idea that he wouldn't immediately take Zaun as well then keep moving is completely laughable. But this sort of thing isn't my issue today. My issue is that those so zealously insisting the the show should have continued on a path of hate, death and destruction are completely missing the point.

I titled this continuing the cycle for a reason. So much of this show, revolves around this concept of the cycle of violence. Those who keep it going, those who suffer from it, and those who break it. And the issue I'm finding is that a tremendous amount of people have seemingly decided that anything people from Zaun do is justified, and anything people from Piltover do is not. When in fact, where they are born is irrelevant in this context. Because each and everyone of them has the choice to further the cycle, or to walk away.

Silco & Vander:

Vander continued the cycle when instead of forgiving Silco for his part (whatever it may have been, we never really get the whole story) in Felicia's death he tried to kill him. And Silco did the same when he took his revenge instead of walking away ending not only the life of the man who wronged him, but causing the deaths of two teenage boys, trying to have Vi killed and causing her imprisonment altering her life forever, and taking Powder as his own after obliterating her second family altering her life and the lives of all those she would hurt through her actions as well.

Caitlyn:

In Caitlyn we see all three. She was an admittedly naïve but well-meaning young woman who was victimized terribly by cycle of violence around all for thinking she could help. We then watch her heart-breaking transformation into being a part of it allowing her hate and pain to warp her into someone dark and vengeful. Then finally we see her laying down the hate for her mothers killer in favor of her love for the woman who means everything to her. Stepping outside of it and turning her back on that violence.

There are of course other examples. Jinx walking away, Ambessa choosing to continue the bloodshed even with her last child begging her to stop. the list goes on. My point in discussing this is that it doesn't matter where they come from. Characters from all over this story play a part both good and bad in the events that occur. And to properly appreciate and understand this tale and what it is saying we MUST recognize that.

Yes Silco was a Zaunite. No Silco was not justified in unleashing Shimmer on his own people. He was a revolutionary once, but he lost his way. In the end he died a violent drug lord who exploited his people for his own gain. He was not a hero.

Yes Jinx is a Zaunite. No, Jinx attacking the council was not a noble strike for her people against oppression. She was a terrified, mentally ill, grieving and angry young woman who lashed out in a moment of awful pain. And in doing guaranteed Piltovan oppression against her people. .

Yes, Heimerdinger was the father of Piltover and his neglect caused terrible problems for everyone. He also gave his life for a Zaunite rebel commander to help get him home. (I understand in the lore he's probably alive but we haven't seen that yet and they have for sure diverged so it isn't a guarantee)

Yes, Caitlyn Kiramman is the daughter of one of the high houses of Piltover, and played a part of the people of Zaun suffering under Ambessa's manipulations and cruelty. She also gave the leader of the Firelights the gemstone she was so determined to return, stood side-by-side with Vi and told the council to their faces they failed Zaun, and put her own body on the line to make things right against Ambessa.

And that isn't to say that any of those characters were all good or all bad. It's to say that they all are capable of both. Just like every character. To slap a Zaun sticker on Silco and a Piltover (or cop as so many of you are fond of) sticker on Caitlyn and give them a pass or not for everything they do based on that is simplistic and ignorant. These characters have so much to them that to reduce them to these easily digestible bite-sized pieces is to deprive yourself of that true weight of this story.

All that said, lets take another look at a few items from that list from earlier:

"The show should have ended with a civil war between Zaun and Piltover!"// At the moment where all of humanity was at stake, people came together and fought side by side to quite literally save the world

"They ruined Jinx's character! WTF do you mean she apologized for killing Caitlyn's mother? Her mom was part of the oppressive system that ruined Jinx's life and brought it on herself!"// In a moment of pain and clarity Jinx found herself speaking to someone she realized she horribly wronged. Someone who had been twisted into something dark and violent by pain and grief, a feeling Jinx knew all too well. So she said the most she could, it isn't a direct apology. But her remorse is clear. "

"When Zaun arrived during the last battle Jinx should have unloaded on the Enforcers and the Noxians both!"// Jinx went from someone hated and feared, who felt like she had nothing to offer anyone, who felt like she had failed or killed everyone who loved her, to riding into battle leading her people and bearing symbols of her loved ones into the war for all mankind. And although I and most agree she's alive, the last act we know she for sure that she took was to save the life of the older sister who loved her so much in her most dire moment. If she did die, Jinx died a hero.

CLOSING WORDS:

Arcane is many things. But it's humanity is its heart. I've said it many times and many ways, but good stories... in this case great stories matter. They stick with us. Because long after the giant battles, the wolf monsters, and shiny blue magic rocks have faded, its the humanity you remember. The sisters fighting desperately to hold on to each-other in a world determined to rip them apart. The lovers from different worlds finding hope in each-others arms. Brothers betraying one another, a daughter having to take her mothers life, the list goes on. But when we rob these characters and this story of all of that, when the flash is gone, what's left?

I haven't done a long one in a bit and I feel like this is a bit rambling so I apologize. To those who take time out of their day to read anything I have to say I appreciate you more than you know. Feel free to share your thoughts! I love discussing this show. And in closing will leave you with one of my favorite quotes.

“It's like the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. I know now folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to something. That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for"

- JRR Tolkien

[zahri-melitor]

Given the recent(ish) fandom bent of "Tim is so unhinged," "he's one bad day away from being a supervillain", etc. Can you think of one instance of Tim's Robin career that *could* have been a turning point to create such a person?

Generally? No.

I mean I could pull out the classics everyone likes to repeat about cloning during 52 and Captain Boomerang in Red Robin #26, but I don't actually think those are moments when Tim could have twisted.

If I were going to pitch turning points for Tim, there's two I personally would pick: the end of Robin I; and while Tim was imprisoned by Mister Oz.

The last scenes of Robin I have Shiva baiting Tim to kill King Snake, and Tim does turn his back and let him fall. (Functionally Dorrance is immortal in terms of 'surprise I survived' being his response on returning every single story after this; but he clearly initially looked like he died there). Henri Ducard gathers Tim up and makes sure he gets back to Gotham, where Bruce is briefed about what happened and comforts Tim.

However. If you wanted to pivot to break Tim, I think this would be a great moment to disillusion him. Have Tim 'fail' the falling villain situation, and have Bruce make a big deal about it, and you could develop fault lines that eventually lead to Tim breaking away.

In terms of Mister Oz: Tim got trapped in a pocket dimension for what is quoted to be year but in comics time probably equalised out to a couple of months in the long term timeline. Tim's social, gregarious, and now stuck somewhere with nobody to talk to, nothing to do, nowhere to go in a featureless cell, and just a mysterious-to-him villain dropping by every now and then to gloat.

If Oz had let Tim know that everyone believed he was dead, and weren't looking for him, and convinced him to believe it, and exploited that grief? You could probably dig in to break Tim here as well. I think it would be a far harder moment to fork given his extensive experience, but Tim was literally dealing with unending solitary confinement, which does weird things to anyone's mind.

Certainly Gun!Batman thought there was the potential to exploit Tim here.

But generally no, I don't think Tim really does have supervillain turning points. He's got too much self-examination and talks himself out of thought processes leading down those paths.

[bellamoooon]

Riff never really thought he would last this long with you, but here you were, he had been with you since the year before Tony had gone upstate, which summed up to two years— which for riff was a lifetime considering his “relationships” never lasted more than a day.

“Come on girly girl, I promise they’ll behave this time…” there he was, puppy eyes and a pout standing in the door of your apartment, trying to convince you to let the jets have dinner at your place.

“Riff, you said that the last time, diesel threw a plate at action—“ you spoke reminding him about the catastrophic dinner that had happened weeks ago.

Because yes, you loved riff, and the rest of the boys, to be fair you had been like a mother to most of them, which was comic, seeing as they were all of your age, or a year younger, but despite that, the care you had given to your boys— as you call them — was more nurturing and motherly than what their actual mother ever provided.

But— often when you made dinner for all of them, it turned into a goddamn mess.

Chewing with open mouths, spilling juice, broken plates, sauce accidentally spilled on your pretty pink table cloth, and stolen spoons— don’t ask, you do not know what they take your spoons for.

“I just don’t want to have to clean up after, you boys are like a stampede of elephants, you tear my apartment to shreds in minutes” riff laughed, of course he did, he pulled you closer wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Come on angel, I’ll make the boys clean up, you just cook up one of those delicious warm meals of yours and we do the rest.”

It was tempting, getting to see the boys— and them endlessly complementing your food, and you weren’t an egomaniac, but man it was nice to hear— and spending time with riff, which was often a complicated task with all the trouble they find themselves in.

“Fine, but this apartment better shine after” he hummed as he left a kiss on your head, good thing he had convinced you, the jets were all getting set up for the dinner riff had promised them, he knew you’d give in eventually.

***

As you turn the stove off, right on cue there’s a knock at the door, you sigh, it’s just dinner, they’ll help clean up, no one’s gonna kill anyone, you try telling yourself, but who were you kidding, whenever more than three jets were in a small space— or big to be fair— an earthquake was bound to happen.

“Heya doll, got the boys, need any help setting up?” Riff said with his usual charming smirk as you opened the door, you made way as him and maybe five or six jets walked in behind all freshened up and smiling as they greeted you.

“Yeah, could ya set the plates and silverware, I’ll be there to serve in a sec” he nodded as he started to hand out plates to the boys as the placed them carefully on the table.

As you close the door a foot is shoved in the way letting out a yelp of pain, “ow!”

immediately you swing the door open to find baby John with his brows knit together in pain.

“Jesus, baby John! Why the hell would you do that?” He shakes his head as you place a hand on his back as you both walk in.

“The guys started to run— and…and I kinda lost ‘em so im just slightly late, sorry ma” you giggled as he spoke, always so well spoken and polite. He was a good kid from a broken home, and you were the kind of mother he always wanted his to be, so to say the least, you were fond of him.

“Alright, go sit down, I bet the boys already set the table for dinner” and they had done that exactly, and were even seated already, looking all pretty and innocent as if they weren’t in fights everyday.

As you had predicted, they all gushed over the food and how “no five star could do it like you did”— says riff, it’s just a simple meal, but he was used to eating whatever he could find cheap enough for himself, or starve, which was almost never, since you’d always have a little something for him.

“Okay, now clean up, I want no complaining or whining, Diesel— you’re on dishes tonight” obviously, he let out a soft “aw man” as he started picking the plates and taking them to the sink, “and the rest of you wiping up the table and the kitchen counter” they all groaned, but complied.

Riff found it incredibly amusing and mesmerizing how, ever since you two were together, they all obeyed to most of your orders and looked after you whenever you were out late.

“Y’know pretty, you’d make a great mom someday” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, making you smile as his warmth stuck onto you.

“Already am, dickwad, you made me responsible for all your jets, but I don’t see ya paying child support” you say as you turn your head to look up at him, lets out a loud chuckle as he presses a kiss on your shoulder.

“I’ll pay you once these monkeys are out here girly girl, they don’t need to know how good I fuck you” he whispered in your ear, your face lit up with a bright blush as you stuck your elbow in his ribs.

“Riff! You gotta stop doing that, I mean it.”

“Unless you’d want ‘em to hear your pathetic whining, pretty, remind ‘em you’re mine and no one else’s” he left a quick kiss on your cheek as he pulled away, going towards the boys to walk them out of the apartment, turning to wink at you.

You just know it’ll be best if you sleep in and not leave the house tomorrow.

[lordofmelancholy]

Arcane Silent Frontiers: Isha and Jinx's Relationship

Alright! Time for something new! The (tragic) Relationship between Isha and Jinx in Silent Frontiers

Now for those who read This (if you haven't go read it), you might have notice that I put down one of the inspirations for Isha's character in SF as not only just Ellie from The Last of Us but also Joel as well.

This is because, both Isha and Jinx take the "Joel" role in this AU; which is basically a fancy way of stating that both of them have major attachment issues stemming from trauma and apparent abandonment. Because of this, both Isha and Jinx actually don't get along to each other as quickly as they do in the show. The need to Bond is there, but Isha often finds it hard to gain attachments towards people following immense heartbreak in her life, and is in many ways similar to Jinx in this notion. However what should bring them together, instead makes it hard for them to do so. There's a pull of course that neither can understand, but it's a pull that tends to lead them both at the current time to face first into a wall. They have to break that wall and it's a process. Its literally has to build up. But with every build up, there can be an explosion which with Isha and Jinx happens.

Thus then comes the Isha (ellie) and Jinx (Joel) parallel Remember This Scene, in the first TLOU

Well. . .Jinx and Isha basically go through the same thing Despite the attachment issues, throughout the story of SF, Isha does end up getting close to Jinx much like she does in the show. This however is where it gets complicated for JINX because Jinx's whole thing IS the fear of getting close to someone in a world that tends to take them away too easy.

The only one she's EVER close to is Ekko. He's been her rock since they were kids. But anyone else doesn't get as close easily and it's just how she's been for years.

She's been so stuck in her ways that It honestly scared her how quickly she got attached to Isha she got and as a result her first instinct is to push away.

To not only protect others, but herself.

Jinx's biggest breaker in this whole thing was the fact that Isha once accidentally called her mama by mistake and Jinx's first instinct was to fear the word because she never expected it to make her feel good. It was what started the OG argument (similar to the one Joel and Ellie got into in the first game) and what had caused a small rift to form between the two of them, because Isha tried to get close but Jinx pushed back and thus Isha basically "gave up"

which she was actually starting to NOT DO because of Jinx.

Jinx ends up of course beating herself up over it later on down the line because she realizes how stupid she's actually been about all this. Realizing that Ekko was right, that everyone was right and even Isha was right about a lot of stuff. But her stupidity this time caused her to go and "Jinx" it cause it's obvious that Isha is distancing herself from JINX now and it's not the other way around

When what happens with Isha happens (basically what caused the events of the fic: Alone in this Platinum Field which can be found there in the link), Jinx is distraught over it because not only could she possibly loose Isha, but she'll also loose Isha at a point in time where there's a big chance that Isha hates her.

But the issue is, is even now Isha doesn't hate Jinx. And that's the sad part. Made even more sad with the fact that She never did, nor does she think she ever could

It's just that Isha's hurt

She's hurt because in the process of pushing her away, Jinx had also said things that just got Isha the wrong way

Because as we all know when Jinx is scared, Jinx can't shut up for shit and has to put her foot in her mouth.

Jinx never really leaves her side shortly after what happened. The issue with the field was something she couldn't avoid, it sucked but she couldn't. But after that she never strays too far. She's always close by. Always within reach. But while part of it is her just being observant, there's also another reason as to why.

She keeps trying to apologize

Every once in a while, sometimes in the dead of night, while everyone is asleep or at least trying to sleep. You could often hear whispers. Hushed sounds. And it's Jinx trying to talk to her. Trying to apologize. Shes trying to apologize because the thought that Isha is going to die with the thought of Jinx not caring in her head absolutely terrifies Jinx to no end now.

So every once in a while you'd hear a hushed apology. "'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it".

And sometimes when Isha's awake, at least long enough to actually hear those words somewhat, it would often seem like she would jump at the opportunity to accept it. To put it all behind them and forget about it all. But then she would get a look in her eye, as if she was remembering what exactly got said to her.

Playing it all back in her head.

and then Jinx would notice the sullen look. As if even now Isha couldn't bring herself even to forget. Or to forgive

But Jinx keeps trying to apologize.

And that's the sad part really in all this.

But what somehow makes it even worse. If that was even possible to begin with. Is the fact, that that's not the only thing Jinx tries to do. What she always seems to try despite it never working in the end.

She thinks the others don't hear her when she say's it. But they do. They always do. And it breaks their hearts to hear how desperate she sounds when she asks Isha to call her Mama once more.

Because they know the odds are slim now that she ever will. Not after everything.

But Jinx need's to hear her say it. She wants Isha to say it. Mouth it. Sign it. Garble Anything. Now more then anything

She doesn't care how Isha says it because at least if she does. At least if this is does turn out to be the end, Jinx can at least know and hold on to the warm feeling that Isha calling her Mama made her. Can hold on to that warmth at least for a while, just a little. Just long enough to help her cope with the fact that she may never get to hear it again if this truly is the end.

She hopes its not.

God she hopes its not

Because she still needs to make up for what she did.

So she's keep trying. As long as it takes. However long both her and Isha have left.

She knows she sounds selfish. Wanting Isha to say it now when there's a chance this might all be it. To say it now after pushing her away the way that she did. She knows it sounds selfish. Sounds cruel

She knows it probably is in some way. But its not. Really its not She's not being selfish nor is she trying to be cruel. Not really anyways. She just finally has come to accept something. Just a little too late. Just a little too much at the wrong time

But

"Just once. That's all. Call me mama again. Please just say it. Just once, that's all. You can say it. I wont be mad I promise…I won't just…-"

"Please?"

____

(Also as a added bonus in pain. Imagine Isha referring to Ekko as Papa by mistake when they make it back to the compound. They get her all fixed up for the time being and her being slightly drugged up for the pain, accidentally refers to Ekko as papa when he shows up to see them. Imagine being worried that she "did it again" and that she's going to be rejected by Ekko just like she was by Jinx. Imagine her being terrified of the potential rejection. Jinx did it, what's really stopping Ekko from doing it as well)