#Grimmer Intentions

[good-wine-and-cheese]

The real crime of the low empathy swag poll is Grimmer or Lunge not being on it

[pigcowboys]

what i'm tryna say is . . .

pairing: percy jackson x gn! reader

summary: you make a point to finally confront percy about why he's been acting so distant.

warning(s): slightly angsty at the start, mutual pining, idiots in love, interrupted love confession.

part 2 part 3

when it came to feelings and relationships, you had to admit. you weren't the best at them.

you weren't stupid. you knew when someone's intentions weren't as platonic as they wanted it to seem. television taught you that -- though tv wasn't the same as reality and sometimes things aren't as forward as they usually were made to be, people just don't work like that.

you kind of hated that fact, actually. the fact that people were so complicated annoyed you so to speak. especially when it came to the various relationships in your life. your relationship with your mother was..rocky. so, the fact that your father was that of an immortal all powerful deity didn't help at all. you hated the fact that the gods were so fickle with the way they spoke to their demigod children.

they'd abandoned them, yet couldn't even offer them a direct sentence or word of advice. it seemed so bittersweet to you. the existence of camp half-blood was a comforting thought yet, challenged you with hard questions at the same time.

why couldn't the god protect their children themselves? why the hell would they just their put kids in danger knowing there was monsters out to get them? and most of all, why didn't they care enough to stick around?

these questions were built on nothing but anger and hatred yet, you couldn't stop them from popping up whenever you had a moment to yourself. this kind of stuff was complex, hard to understand. it was probably why you even hated thinking about it for too long.

you tried your best to avoid bringing up complex feelings, you really did. but.. sometimes you had to face your fears. or -- something like that you figured.

you idled in front of the poseidon cabin, an unnerving feeling in the pit of your stomach as you tried your best to put on a brave face. you had nothing to be scared of, honestly! it was such a stupid situation you'd found yourself worrying about. it'd only been a few weeks since percy, annabeth, grover and thalia had returned from their quest to find artemis.

you practically busted your ass making your way over to find percy and the others, a comical grin on your face being met with the tired and shaken up faces of the group. thalia left with the hunters, nico was informed of the death of his sister and everyone in the camp seemed to be in grimmer spirits than before.

percy included.

he seemed..distant -- in a way. it made you wonder about what the hell happened on the quest. what he had to witness while he was out on the open road. it made your heart hurt for him. i mean, how could it not? percy was like a shell of his normal self and you hadn't a clue what it was about, especially when he started to avoid your presence around the camp.

it was the main reason you were situated outside his cabin, hesitating to knock on it as your head raced with questions. something in the back of your head told you to just go back to your own cabin and hold your tongue. a part of you wished you'd listened to it, sucking in a breath as you knocked earnestly on cabin 3's door.

you exhaled shakily,

“hey,” you started, pausing as you tried to find something to say. you and percy hadn't spoken in weeks, what could you say..? he looked back at you with wide eyes, like he hadn't expected to see you here at all. you couldn't blame him -- you didn't expect yourself to be there either.

“uh, can we talk..?”

percy shut the door behind you as you strolled sheepishly into his cabin, looking around the practically empty cabin as you stood in the middle of the room awkwardly.

percy walked over to you nervously, leaning against the frame of cabin 3's bunk bed as he turned to face you with a concerned expression. “what did you wanna talk about?” you paused, analyzing percy's worried gaze

“are you avoiding me?” you blurted out suddenly.

percy blinked a few times before his eyebrows furrowed. “..what are you talking about?”

“i mean.. i haven't seen you in so long? are you like” you cleared your throat. "do you not wanna be friends..anymore?"

“no.” you turned to him. percy's face was slightly flushed though, you couldn't pinpoint if it was because of the fact the sun was boiling today or for..another reason.

“it's not like that.” he added, rubbing the back of his neck. “i've just been..feeling weird, i guess.”

“and you didn't feel the need to tell me about it?”

he paused.

silence fell over the two of you as you began to regret ever coming to cabin 3 before percy spoke once more.

“i don't think i feel the same way i did..” he trailed off. "about..us."

your heart pounded in your ears as your eyebrows furrowed. “what you don't wanna be friends anymore?”

“are you." he sighed in frustration. “no, that's not what i meant.”

you felt slightly jittery now, it must've been your body growing tired of the still position you were in. the vagueness of percy's words were starting to cause thoughts to race in your head as well. why couldn't he just be honest? what excuse is so great that it makes up for the fact he's been ignoring you all this time?

“then,” you mumbled. “ what did you mean?”

percy sucked in a sharp breath, shifting on his leg as he crossed his arms impatiently. he looked like he was trying to psych himself up to say something. he locked eyes with you before shuffling over sheepishly and gently directing you to a sitting position on his bed.

you tapped against the frame of the bunk bed absentmindedly waiting for percy to continue.

“you're uh..” he paused again. “i don't want to just be friends.”

you shot him a confused look. “you wanna be..best friends?”

percy deadpanned. you felt slightly bad for still not getting what he was trying to say. though, what were you supposed to assume when he kept talking in riddles? percy's hand inched towards your own that rested on the bed slowly before he cleared his throat.

“i like - ”

“percy! you have to..” annabeth trailed off, observing the scene in front of her with calculated eyes. she bit back an amused grin, shaking her head slightly. “did i..walk in on something?”

“no!” percy exclaimed, moving his inching hand away from yours to rest in his lap. his face was red and his lips were folded into a thin line. “uh - we weren't doing anything.”

you eyes percy curiously before turning to annabeth. “what's going on?”

“chiron's asking for him..” her eyes shifted between the two of you. “i can tell him you're busy..”

“you don't have to,” you stood up from the bed, dusting yourself off. “i was gonna..leave anyways.” you turned to percy. “catch you later, i guess.” percy nodded his head, waving at you robotically.

you shut the door behind you, trying your best to shake off the awkward conversation.

you weren't able to decipher what percy was saying to you, nor did you even get a straight answer about why he'd be avoiding you. you squinted your eyes as the sun shun over your face.

why were people so complex?

[therandompagesblog]

Hunting Your Soul Chapter 2 🫀Y/N🫀

Trigger Warnings: Stalking, Haunting, Elderly vulnerability

My Grandmother always said that things crept in the dark. She believed in creatures that preyed on the living and consumed our souls. A devoted supernaturalist, she embraced everything from out-of-body experiences to fanged predators of the night. Her beliefs fascinated me. Sure, vampires were entertaining in fantasy novels, but in reality, they were morally ambiguous killers with heightened emotions. Werewolves? Just humans cursed to become wolves that hunted the living. That was my take on it, anyway. Despite my scepticism, I was intrigued. I lived in a quaint town called Bude on the English coast. It boasted a lovely beach, frequented year-round, and a rich history steeped in the supernatural, thanks to its perpetually grey skies. Coincidence? Perhaps. Bude's eerie reputation inspired countless horror stories, much to the amusement of locals. The influx of tourists, especially around Halloween, boosted the economy. The downside? It took nearly two hours to drive to the nearest city, Exeter. That was where I was heading, intent on visiting a new library to find supernatural books for my grandmother.

The library loomed ahead, a stark white building with towering windows, a beacon of knowledge in the dimming light. Inside, the scent of old paper and forgotten dreams enveloped me. Shelves towered around me, groaning under the weight of countless volumes. My fingers brushed the spines as I searched for the elusive "Supernatural" section. I found myself chuckling at some of the titles: "The Vampire's Guide to Etiquette," "Werewolf Yoga for Beginners," and "Witches' Brew for Dummies." Absurd, yes, but strangely intriguing. The pages held a certain allure, a promise of the unknown, the forbidden. I imagined myself immersed in these fantastical worlds, battling vampires in moonlit graveyards, outwitting cunning witches, and experiencing the thrill of the hunt alongside a pack of werewolves. Of course, I knew the reality was far grimmer. Vampires were not romantic figures, but bloodthirsty predators. Werewolves were not noble creatures of the wild, but savage beasts driven by primal urges. But the allure of the unknown, the thrill of the forbidden, was undeniable. It was a dangerous fascination, a siren song that whispered promises of adventure and danger. As I finally unearthed a stack of dusty tomes, a strange sensation washed over me. A prickle of unease, a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. I glanced around, heart pounding. The library, once a haven of quiet contemplation, now seemed to hold a sinister energy. Shadows danced in the corners, whispering secrets in the language of the night. A low growl, guttural and menacing, echoed from the depths of the library. I froze, every sense on high alert. My breath hitched in my throat as I searched for the source of the sound. Nothing. Silence. Just the eerie creaking of the old building settling under the weight of the night. I realised then I should probably stop listening to my sweet grandmother. My mind was now playing mind tricks on me and I was now starting to believe in the eerie haunting horrors of the supernatural. I quickly packed up the books and scanned them out before heading back to my car. Walking back to my car. I could have sworn the air had changed. The calmness of the wind smelled different. It smelled heavy. I picked up my pace as I twisted and turned down the streets. Listening to the unusual sounds in the air. I could have sworn I heard something animalistic behind me. I could have sworn I heard its footsteps but maybe I was paranoid. It was the evening after all. Once I was in my car I drove straight to my grandmothers to drop off the books. Whatever was out there I wasn't going to stick around for it. I wasn't going to be killed out in Exeter. My poor grandmother wouldn't be able to get my body. She didn't drive. Bless her heart. She was old and could barely lift things. Partly because she was slightly too lazy but at her age I think it's acceptable. "Here you are Grandmother. I got you some new and obscure book." I called out as I headed into the living room to see Grandmother on a step ladder trying to fix a light. "Grandmother are you mad! What if you fell." Sometimes this woman surprised me when she wanted to. "Don't be foolish." She huffed "I wanted to read my book and the bulb blew. Can't always rely on you can I Duck." "Now now grandmother! You can always rely on me." I chided. She waved her hand and asked me to put the books down so she could see them. Satisfied enough she took them all to her room while I was left with the stories of Monica. A creepy story about Monica summoning a demon and having paranormal activity. It was a good read for now while it distracted me from what was outside.

🫀🫀

This was not how I imagined spending my Sunday morning up in the attic. Grandmother asked me to get some photos down as she decided she wanted to redecorate the entirety of the living room. She wanted photos from her trip to Venice on her walls rather than me and my siblings. It was cute but the attic wasn't. The attic was filled with cobwebs and spiders. I was ready to give up on finding these photos as crawled across the attic going through different boxes until I found the right one. Aha, there it is! I grabbed the dusty old box and dragged it towards me when I heard a knock on the door. I cursed myself as I realised I was the only one in the house as my grandmother had gone to meet her friend Avis for coffee. I slowly climbed down the steps with the box and tried to steady myself as I was about to hit the ground when a knock came from the door again. "One second," I called out with a huff. Slightly sweating from carrying a box. I headed down to the stairs to open the front door to see no one was there. I looked out and around but the street was quiet. Empty. "Weird," I mumbled. I was about to shut the door when I noticed a small box on the floor. My name was written across it beautifully. That was unusual to me. I didn't live here. I only visited every other day to help my grandmother out when my parents were working. I took the parcel inside and opened it to see a note: to enlighten your mind little petal. C I frowned at the note before looking into the box to see two books inside about vampires. One was Dracula and the other was on The Crimes of Vampires. I rolled my eyes and looked into the box again to see if there was anything else. Weird. So weird. I didn't know how to feel about all of this. I didn't know who the person was that sent me this or why. It felt creepy. Sinister. It could be harmless but in this world, you didn't know. All I knew was they would eventually show themselves when they were ready to.

18+ Taglist for those who are not turning back

@catlove83 @itsyourleilei @whatudowhennooneseesyou @leeknot @estella-novella @fackeraccount @eastjonowhere @cocofia143 @jennibahng @noerinspace @sleepingmissingprincess @ye0lkkot @hiitsmebbygrl16 @shhimhereforsmut @jaeminie-cricket @stayceebs97 @ritiiiiiii @chlodavids @beautystarry @hyunjinhoexxx @hash2013 @jeonginontopforever @catnipchannie

[scarletwritesshit]

♚ Jing Yuan x Reader ♚ All's Fair

You stared intently at the chessboard, carefully deciding what course of action to take. You were at a major disadvantage, as you have lost quite a few pawns, a rook, and a knight this early into the game, but you weren’t willing to let your seemingly hopeless situation discourage you. It was quite hard to focus on your next move, however, with Jing Yuan staring intently at you. He seemed to not be in a desperate rush to carry on with his turn, but his piercing gaze pressured you in ways beyond the losing situation in front of you. He smiled softly with half closed eyes, which you found impossible to completely ignore. With your head still leaning over the chessboard, you would occasionally move your eyes up to catch a glimpse of him, hoping that he was unaware of your staring.

Every time you refocused on the game, your situation looked increasingly hopeless. You knew exactly how he would counter every possible move that you could make, yet you couldn’t quite piece together a strategy to manipulate him into falling into a trap and turning the tide in your favor. It’s one thing to know your opponent’s every move, but the knowledge is ultimately useless if you cannot prepare a counter in any way.

Instead of pondering your move while being out of ideas, you simply chose to play passively and move a pawn that was previously left behind the rest of the group. Jing Yuan narrowed his eyes at your choice of action and his gentle smile got a bit larger.

“Interesting. A rather defensive move relative to how you’ve been playing as of late,” he noted.

Without any words to spare, you merely nodded your head, struggling to maintain eye contact with his demanding gaze.

Jing Yuan did not hesitate a moment to make his move. He moved one of his two dull white rooks towards you, once again putting you in danger of losing pieces.

The shininess of your black pieces seemed to reflect the glare in Jing Yuan’s eyes, once again diverting your attention to him. With how intensely he was staring down you and the chessboard, you were quite astounded that he had not lost his patience with you. Then again, when a man has lived for as long as he has and has yet to discover something new to look forward to, time is not of the essence, and so his stoic gaze was a mere quality of his.

Snapping your focus back to the chessboard, a fresh, new look at the situation only looked far grimmer than it was as you were watching him make his move. Jing Yuan watched you as your eyes darted from piece to piece, attempting to carefully consider his potential actions while plotting what would be the best course of action for you to take.

It was rather difficult, however, as Jing Yuan was constantly distracting you. Every time you tried to focus, you couldn’t help but glance back up at him. The way his eye seemed to pierce your soul, despite how unusually gentle his stare was, always drew your attention away from the chessboard.

If only you could think clearly, then maybe you could have a shot of showing him what you’re made of. Plus, you’d have to have something to show after playing with him practically every day. Repeating the same mistakes time and again would not only disappoint him greatly, but bore him of your presence. And if he got bored, then all chances you had with him would be gone, departing as quickly as they arrived.

Ultimately, you bothered not with stressing over your next move. You simply picked up a piece and moved it forward, capturing his rook.

“Not bad, but I had a feeling you would play right into that,” he said, capturing yet another one of your pieces.  

“You really know how to stay a step ahead, don’t you?” you said.

“Of course…it comes naturally after years of practice,” he said with a yawn.

No matter what you tried, your situation kept looking more and more hopeless. His remaining pieces were well over double of what you had, and it was at the point where any move you made would only endanger you elsewhere on the board. Aggression, defense, Jing Yuan knew how to counter it all.

And no matter how many times you looked back and forth between him and the chessboard, it only seemed to get worse with every glance. You picked up one of your pieces and simply moved it forward, out of options, but still willing to see it through till the very end.

His last move must’ve been made when you weren’t paying close enough attention, but he moved his queen towards your king and set it down one space away directly in front of it.

“Checkmate,” he said with a soft smile.

You couldn’t do anything but look at the chessboard in complete defeat.  It felt as if through the entirety of the round, pieces were disappearing right before your very eyes, with Jing Yuan eliminating them with such cunning swiftness. Almost felt like a real battle, with you and his own squadron facing off in an intense sparring round.

Strangely enough, he didn’t jump at the opportunity to claim your king for himself.

“Jing Yuan…you won this war against me. Why haven’t you taken my king?” you said, puzzled.

“Hmm…this isn’t a battle of brute strength that I aimed to win against you,” he said, picking up one of your shiny black pawns and rotating it around his fingers.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You have quite the ways to go,” he said, “Your focus is clearly lacking, as your soldiers were disappearing before your very eyes.”

Come to think of it, your pieces were disappearing awfully quickly, but you have no idea where they could’ve gone. They weren’t off to the side of the table, nor were they around Jing Yuan in any way.

“You have an awful lot fogging your mind, but if you paid attention to the little things, then perhaps you would have noticed,” he said. Jing Yuan reached across the table with the pawn still in hand, and gently pried open your lips with it. You were expecting cold stone to clash against your teeth, chipping them if you so as much dared to try and chew it.

The pawn tasted like…chocolate?

It was very fine, indeed, but why was it made of literal chocolate?

“Surprised, aren’t you? When you directed your focus elsewhere, I would slide one of your pieces off of the board. You were far too focused on me to notice what was happening in front of you,” he said, resting his hands on his legs.

“You noticed? But how?”

“You truly have yet to fully understand. A seasoned general pays attention to the entirety of their surroundings, not just what is set in stone before them. In the face of a real war, rules are not going to be upheld, meaning anything can happen for any reason,” he said, sliding another one of your pawns off of the board and slipping it under his tongue.

You were paying attention…just your focus was directed at the wrong thing. It was impossible when Jing Yuan had such a demanding air to him that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Not only that, but he was simply too gorgeous for you to resist attempting to sneak a peek.

“If you weren’t so distracting, this wouldn’t be an issue for me,” you said.

“Me? Distracting? How so, might I ask? I have merely been observing you in silence.”

That was the exact problem here. If he wasn’t looming over you constantly, then perhaps you wouldn’t be having as much difficultly taking action…or allowing him more opportunities to eat your pieces, apparently. Would he even believe you, if you told him the real reason why you were so fixated on him? Would he even remotely consider your words as being honest, rather than a poorly attempted excuse? Even worse yet, has he already figured you out himself?

Rather than respond, you averted your gaze from him, trying to hide your face noticeably burning up.

“Hmmm…I see,” he said.

“What? I didn’t even say anything?”

“You don’t have to. I’ve seen that look from you far too often myself, meaning words are not necessary for me to understand.”

Once again, you said nothing, as you merely glanced at him for a brief moment before once again looking away. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw as he nudged his queen ever so gently onto the space where your king was located. Still, he didn’t knock it off the space, which you found to be even more unusual.

“While you were most vulnerable, I took this chance to wipe out everything that stood in my way for a total victory.”

“Isn’t…that how chess is supposed to work?” you said.

Jing Yuan shook his head gently. “Not just chess, my dear. You simply obliterate what’s distracting you, and strike when their guard is at their weakest. It is true for board games, war…”

He reached across the table and lifted up your chin so that you were now staring him directly in the eye.

“…and love.”

Struggling to find words, you very nervously asked him, “So…you knew all along, or was this your idea of a confession?”

“With the way I have seen you act, there was hardly any room for doubt that you had quite the interest in me. I was hoping that you would fess up and confess yourself, saving me the trouble, but I had to resort to ensnaring you in a little trap of mine and giving you that little push that you needed.”

With how he had put you on the spot, you found it hard to refuse his demands.

“You’re a skilled general, and I am nothing more than one of many that work under you. I wouldn’t have had a chance no matter what I said or did for you.”

“I fear you may be misjudging the situation ever so slightly,” he said, leaning his face in closer to yours, “I only have so much free time in my day between my afternoon nap and whatever it is Yanqing requests of me. Do you really think that I would have the time to meddle around with those that I do not care about?”

“I suppose not.”

“Precisely. With that being said, I think I have truly won our little game here, exposing not only your king for the taking, but more importantly, your heart. Am I correct?”

“You caught me in the act Jing Yuan, because I really do like you, but I’m not sure how I can prove to you that I am worthy of staying by your side.”

“You just did,” he said, with an ever so devious little smirk.

“But I didn’t-“

He moved his finger up to shush your mouth, preventing you from saying anything further.

“An explanation would simply cut into my nap time at this point. You are more than welcome to come join me, that is, if you accept my feelings for you in return.”

In return?

Jing Yuan never showed obvious signs of any sort of feelings towards you. However, he may have been right about one thing, and that was your failure to focus on the minute but equally important details that reveal the full story. These chess games of his held a deeper meaning than exercising his mind as a way to pass time. It was his way of growing closer to you without giving you an easy chance to catch on. It may have taken you a while to realize it, but even the cunning Jing Yuan wasn’t safe from the truth eventually becoming unraveled. And, if he planned for you to never figure him out, then he was out of luck, as now you had an understanding of him greater than before.

Luckily, you could count on him never showing any mercy just because you two officially became an item in a sudden but pleasant turn of events. Deep understanding of him comes with both the advantage and disadvantage of him understanding everything about you in return.

He’s managed to capture your king, but who’s the real winner here?

[thesiltverses]

absolutely obsessed with making a propaganda saint and making it not be fully controlled by the government, symbolizing how real propagandas go out of control very easily once people start spreading them around and sometimes even turn into a mutation of the original to turns into the general consensus.

i also think val is scary but LEAGUES less horrifying than carson because holy FUCK 0_0

The intent was very much, 'ok, let's have Val murder a bunch of people horribly and erase them from existence, then see if we can spend the last ten minutes exploring whether she's really the worst person in the episode.'

The blatant uncontrollability of Val and the refusal of anyone to acknowledge that is an interesting point because it felt like a relevant jab at the condition of real-life politics right now (specifically here in the UK, although certainly it's very applicable elsewhere) where from Brexit to COVID to austerity to the environmental to the collapse of social care, there's a desperate collective refusal to accept the facts of how horribly things have gone wrong (and a constant media denunciation of anyone who wants to get us to pay attention to it as obstructive or treacherous).

And it feels less like 'just' propaganda at this point, and more like a desperate, horribly successful continued worship of deeply-embedded fantasies about Britain's status quo that could go on ignoring the far grimmer realities indefinitely no matter how many deaths are involved or how bad things get; the superstructure of a nation ploughing on as the base rots.

So it was very much deliberate that the entire meeting room voluntarily goes along with these absurd, blinkered lies (that Val is under their control, that this is a groundbreaking new kind of god and not just, as Shrue says, the same dangerous and reckless stuff that's come before, that it's unpatriotic and unhelpful to raise some fairly basic concerns); they don't need a liar's god to rewrite their own reality.

[just-a-carrot]

Can I just say, (as someone without a vision impairment mind you, so I’m perhaps not the best person to speak on this matter), it is clearly evident that you’ve done research into rural living accommodations for blindness. I can’t exactly say whether the portrayal is flawless as, again, im not that well versed in the topic, but the good intent is clearly there and the realism is nice

(Broomtail related btw)

ahhh I have done a lot of research and put a ton of thought into it yeah 💦 even though it's been mostly a silly comic so far I want to show some realistic moments too. it will probably actually get grimmer as it goes on (not related to this specifically but just in general with both realism and some plot ideas I have). like not dark dark but just with some drama and angst a bit

I really just want to make sure that despite the light-heartedness that it does feel immersive and thoughtful and that I've put a lot of thought into the chars' needs and situations and the realities of the time and environment

[lord-squiggletits]

This might be bc of my personal reading of exRDI/OP bc I'm pretty sure the authorial intent was to just write Optimus as having some fall from grace/borderline tyrannical edge but like

I really kinda wish the story had been written as more of a political intrigue, almost GOT-esque thing (sorry for the cliche) where like, instead of Optimus being written as the narrative's scapegoat to be condemned both by the characters in universe and the meta narrative, he was just written as...morally gray? With more of a focus on "this is a shitty situation where no decision is good" rather than having Optimus just be some sort of white guilt stand-in of how oh, he's a Prime so that means the most important part of his legacy is how Cybertronians are awful and he's no better than the other ones etc.

Like Barber doesn't write Optimus as EVIL or in a way where he's unilaterally condemned as a person who did more harm than good, it's just imo the vibes of the story is more of a dark political/war story where no person is clean and there's no solution to the war that doesn't involve moral compromise. Instead Optimus is forced to make these moral compromises but then everyone else in the story loses their absolute shit and immediately starts calling him a tyrant or a fascist or something.

Like idk, it was partially an issue of the set-up. Because for one, it was really hard to take it seriously when the humans went "omg he's annexing Earth the Autobots were literally the colonizers all along!" (I think the dialogue was written almost exactly like that too sjdjsidn, so bad dialogue was also another issue) yet were perfectly fine working with the Decepticons led by 1. Soundwave who personally helped execute the attempted invasion of Earth and 2. Galvatron who constantly talks about wanting to kill these puny organics. I feel like I would've been able to take humanity's fears of being colonized again more seriously if like, they hadn't literally teamed up with The Colonizer Faction just bc Soundwave promised they were good guys again. So really it's just execution + plot holes + bad dialogue.

And another thing about the annexing of Earth specifically that I wish got talked about more (mostly by the fandom more than in universe) is that like. Basically the reason Optimus did that was because the neo-Decepticons were planning to invade Earth again, but since he's not actually a formal political leader any more he has no power to actually force a war to stop them/request military back up. But also, Starscream didn't give a shit about Earth and neither did the Council of Worlds, so appealing to the government for help defending humanity wouldn't work either. So Optimus annexing Earth was an absolute clusterfuck yes, but in a way it was also kind of a shrewd political move to force Cybertron to dedicate a spot in the government for humans and thus grant humans a say on Cybertronian politics.

What I mean is that in a story/with an author like that of GOT, where the setting is grimmer and every character is morally ambiguous, I feel like Optimus would've had way more room to be an interesting and compelling character. Bc then instead of the story immediately screaming "ALL HAIL OPTIMUS DID YOU KNOW OP ANNEXING EARTH TO THE COUNCIL IS BASICALLY THE SAME AS MEGATRON ATTEMPTING TO GENOCIDE EARTH," Optimus could have been played around with more as a political figure making the shitty decisions in an effort to stop another genocide. Instead of just unilaterally condemning Optimus and immediately comparing him to fucking Megatron of all people, there could've been more focus on the politics of it with maybe some sort of theme of how "being a leader in war is an inherently unethical position where every decision you make will lead to death/conflict/hate."

Like idk I just think it would've been more interesting if the narrative spent less time going "zomg Optimus is totally a tyrant now" and instead went all in on exploring the political conflicts and how far politicians (Optimus now being one, since he's declaring wars and forcefully acting as an ambassador that no one asked for) can go on manipulation and forcing people's hands for the sake of an ultimately good cause. I mean, Windblade was doing shit like covering up for Chromia who killed people in a bombing, making backdoor deals with Starscream, and conspiring with Optimus to bypass Starscream/overthrow him as Cybertron's ruler somehow. The difference of course is that Windblade and exRID were written by two different authors with genre/thematic differences, but as a reader it is really disappointing to see two different political narratives where "a hero turned politician turning to morally gray/unethical methods to outmaneuver a deadly opponent" is treated as clever and heroic for one character, but tyrannical and worthy of ostracization of another character.

Like for God's sake this narrative where Optimus gets lambasted at every turn sometimes by people who work with/are literal tyrants/terrorists themselves is so fucking exhausting. I'd rather read a story that focused more on the idea of, well what Optimus did was unethical but on a political level it was actually advantageous in several ways. Then you could write a story that really dives into a view of like, idk... Does power inherently corrupt or is it just situations like war that allow leaders to seize power and become tyrannical? Are politics an inherently dirty field where the only way to beat your competition (and secure a decent future for the nation) is to become underhanded and manipulative yourself? Is it okay to bypass or work against rightfully elected officials when those officials are turning a blind eye to things like war and invasions and historic racism?

ExRID did somewhat touch on these themes to be fair, but I feel like in Optimus' case they were either poorly executed or just thrown away in favor of having every other character talk shit about him and how he's the worst person ever. Bc like goddammit, I do think Optimus' polarizing and sometimes bad decisions as a character DO make him skirt on the edge of tyranny and shouldn't be downplayed, but on the other hand, I feel like no one (fandom or in-universe) ever tangles with the OTHER side of the story, which is just... Would it have been unethical for Optimus to NOT have done anything? Cybertronians literally put a colony on Earth, injected Earth with alien technology and sleeper agents, used Earth as an incubating ground for dangerous elements like Ore-13, invaded Earth and killed 1 billion people-- after all the shit Cybertron did to Earth, is it not fair (even morally obligated) for Cybertronians to clean up their shit and help Earth defend itself against a crisis that Cybertronians caused? And if Cybertron's government/the individuals within are racist enough that they don't care about Earth, don't see it as their problem, and don't even see human life as meaningful since they don't live that wrong anyways... is it not, in a way, a good thing for Optimus to have overstepped his authority and forced diplomatic relationships between the two planets? So that humans had an actual political channel to go "fuck you, we're in your Council so you'd better ally with us" and so that Cybertron would be forced to go "welp can't write off these humans as Not Our Problem, guess we have to help them." Doesn't forcing Earth to be part of the Council in a way legitimize Optimus' fight to help Earth, since without a formal political office he's just a rogue general fighting an unauthorized war, but with the government involved, defending Earth now becomes a politically sanctioned act?

Like idk. I guess exRID and OP did get into some of this stuff, but as a whole it felt like the story underutilized its political elements and got bogged down in shit like pointless crossovers, and constantly pausing the narrative to have Side Character #2847 talk about how Optimus is a fascist, and having Optimus go on white guilt-esque monologues about how maybe all Cybertronians should die and are unworthy/unable to ever have a peaceful society because their society colonized other planets.

Just so much wasted potential honestly. ExRID/OP as written felt like it was going way too hard into "omg Cybertronians bad and Optimus is actually a tyrant" instead of just writing a complex story and letting readers come to their own conclusions. And also lambasting Optimus for doing things that other characters did (or characters who did even worse things), but letting those characters exist in peace while Optimus has to just be some allegory for colonialism that has to be torn down at every turn because that's Deep and Intellectual.

I just like the kinds of stories about politics that play around with the ethics of it all, like, "this politician is a shitty person but their policies actually prevented some sort of disaster from happening" or "this person did something illegal and defied the law but they did it because no one else was doing anything" or even "everyone hates this person for forcing them into a political deal they didn't want to be involved in, but the fact that they were all forced to become allies actually allowed them to cooperate and save themselves in a way they wouldn't have been able to alone" (which is pretty much literally how the annexing of Earth ended up going).

Like man I don't want to sit here being lectured/having my favorite character be lectured about how much tyranny is bad. I want my favorite character to do shitty things and then go "whoa that was shitty...but also kind of smart...but also caused a lot of problems...but also solved some other problems that could've turned awful if he hadn't forcefully resolved them."

[ghelgheli]

Genuinely confused what you are talking about. The “majority of us” was not hidden, it was very intentional. There will always be people out there who use “transandrophobia” in shitty, untrue ways the same way there will always be people who use “transmisogyny” in shitty, untrue ways (including ones Serano has addressed). “Transandrophobia” isn’t even a unified theory so much as what unites a bunch of transmascs asking to be heard and taken seriously. But I haven’t seen a single person use it to say the transphobia we experience is completely disconnected from transmisogyny entirely in the past year I’ve been engaging in the subject. Of course the two are interconnected. We only take offense at the idea that transandrophobia is *entirely* misdirected transmisogyny. I feel that anyone can talk over anyone identities aside, so I’m not sure what you’re taking issue with there. It’s not clever, it’s just what seems to be happening to me.

it's interesting that the "majority" of transmascs are alleged to endorse transandrophobia-language (which majority? this is what i meant by hidden. where are they? this would make for an even grimmer world, by the way) and yet only a minority of these are doing so in "shitty, untrue ways". the pie chart gets to shift its proportions as is convenient, when even brief experience (which apparently you are not talking over, but i am) makes clear the investment that the transandrophobia-"bunch" has in transmisogyny. this is a commitment not to being heard, but to grounding their experiences in essentialist claims that their oppression is unique by dint of biological fact

it isn't sufficient to acknowledge that anti-transmasculinity and transmisogyny are "interconnected": as the article i linked argues, the former is a trojan horse for smuggling in the latter. serano's understanding of transmisogyny, as i have pointed out at length, is limited at best, and i am unconvinced that the specter of "shitty, untrue" usages of transmisogyny represents any systemic harm against transmascs in particular; this, of course, is unlike transandrophobia rhetoric which is leveraged against tma people here on the daily. either transandrophobia is a framework with specific and precise claims that get to be evaluated on their own terms, in which case these claims typically amount to afab wombyn-ism about experiences that are supposed to be unique because of ostensible biological truths that only apply to ppl who were afab; or it is "what unites a bunch of transmascs asking to be heard and taken seriously", in which case it is the manner of this bunch's engagement that must be evaluated—and this, unambiguously, has been engagement that derogates tma people and is uninterested in addressing transmisogyny, while constantly visiting empty accusations upon their inboxes.

[alarrytale]

He has a Section 28 tattoo//

No queer person in the UK would dream of commemorating that evil law with a tattoo of a plain 28. If they do refer to it, it's a 28 which is crossed out.

Since I believe Louis is gay, the 28 stands for his Doncaster Rovers number.

https://www.tumblr.com/larentyouglad2/747673846189064192/do-you-think-louis-28-tattoo-is-a-reference-to?source=share

No other Larries think his 28 tattoo is for Section 28. I'm a queer Brit and we would never ever get that number tattooed on us or name a fun clothing line after it to somehow make a reference Section 28. You're not British so maybe you don't know the full horror of that legislation. Louis isn't stupid. He has the tattoo for his football number with Donny Rovers.

Hi, anon! (yes, pretty sure you're the same anon...)

No, i was lucky enough to be born on the other side of the north sea the year it was introduced. Here is what section 28 entailed;

"Local authority shall not intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality" (source)

Why does it bother you so much that i have a different opinion than you? I also consulted with my tumblr bff (who's a brit) and she agreed with me that Louis would. So does plenty of others, just look it up.

I think it's more than plausible, likely even, that a harshly, unwillingly, closeted man has a tattoo to represent that he isn't allowed to promote homosexuality. His contracts prohibits him from doing exactly that. He's got a fake kid to hide his homosexuality. He's also got a triangle tattoo which is a consentration camp badge given to homosexuals in WWII. That's even grimmer than a section 28 tattoo so... But maybe you don't know the full horror of what happened there?

Everything Louis does means something and if he says it doesn’t, or he does a "it's just a boat" and dismissing it and playing it down we know he's lying. I don't believe he'd get his football shirt number tattooed on his ring finger or name his queer, androgynous fashion company after his football shirt number. Also why would his football number be 28? Just a random number he tattoos on himself and names his fashion company after?

Also why is he always showing his fingers and attracting attention on his 28 tattoo when he's got to deny larry or stunt? It's as if he's telling us he isn't allowed to promote homosexuality... Even if he didn’t get the tattoo for Section 28, he knows that a lot of people think that he did, so this is significant.

It's totally fine if you don’t agree with me. But don’t pretend like this isn't a plausible theory, and i personally believe this over 28 being his football shirt number. I know some people think the 28 is for "To infinity" where the 8 is the infinity sign. I'd believe that over the football shirt number story too.

[shadowmaat]

Neuralemon

I am filled with dread. The first human test subject has been implanted with Melon Husk's brain chip. They have survived, inasmuch as detecting a "neuron spike" implies some level of aliveness. I sincerely wish them all the best, whether that's a full recovery or a painless death.

I understand the importance of medically-implanted devices to help improve someone's life (pacemakers, bionic eyes, neuromodulation devices for epilepsy, etc). I agree that they're important. However, I've also heard stories of, for example, companies going out of business and leaving the owners of those implants without any chance of software upgrades, tech support, or support of any kind. If someone's implant glitches or stops working, there's little anyone can do to help. There are so many ways that things could go wrong, even if a company has ethical intentions.

When a company only cares about maximizing profit and will cut as many corners as they can, well. It gets grimmer. And when the CEO of that company has proven over and over again he has no idea what he's doing (other than making money) and won't listen to the smart people he hires to run his businesses for him? A brain chip exploding or burning the flesh around it is not outside the realm of possibilities. I also wouldn't be surprised if it gets turned into some kind of subscription service: if you want your chip to continue working, you'll pay up or suffer the consequences. What happens if there are connectivity issues, as happens frequently with his cars? What kind of support network will users have, especially once the trials are over? And if the company folds, what then? Do people have until whenever the chip fizzles out to enjoy the benefits of its use and then they revert back to whatever state they were in before? Does he cut them off immediately? Will he have his people go in to remove the chips so no one can "steal" proprietary data? That's IF the chips even do what they're supposed to, which is a pretty huge IF.

I'm appalled that the FDA gave the go-ahead for this, but not overly surprised. Their credibility has been on a steady decline for a while, now. E-lon's was never high to start and just keeps digging itself deeper into the sewage.

May the gods help the recipients of these chips, because E-lon sure won't.

[nanabrainrot]

Could you write about Kim confronting Lalo and / or MC about the relationship dynamic ? I just know she’d want to help MC

YESS ive been a bit busy this week but heres the version with Kim confronting reader - if u want a kim vs. lalo focused version u can just send an ask about it! But here it is </3

Solamente Una Vez

Summary: Kim just has a question. HMMC True Route WC: 1168

There were less grotesque horror movies, Kim was convinced, looking at the sight. You didn’t go out much, this was abundantly clear in the way you posed yourself against him, looking lightheaded and unsure with flitting eyes and a jittery posture. You looked distraught and lost alone, but only really at ease with another woman. It was depressing.

It took a lot of convincing that the men needed to be alone to have Lalo have you in a room he wasn’t in, but it was okay since it was a mild-mannered married woman like Kim was. She watches you, like a hawk, the way your shoulders lower and heighten calmly in a fashion different from the way you carry yourself with Lalo: stiff. The basic muttering through the wall about business between Saul, Nacho, and Lalo is far off with the intent Kim has; it’s like a scientist observing an endangered animals in the little room. You sit on a chair by her shared bed, sipping some tea with cream and sugar. Quiet. Wordless.

Silent.

“So, how was your day, Mrs. Salamanca?” the blonde gulped, trying to tug a smile out of the other woman.

“Good,” she replied shortly, “and yours?”

“Good,” Kim replied, almost gulping with a brief nod of her head.

Sip.

Wordless, quiet, silent.

“How long have you and Lalo been married?” Your face twists a little, doing the math in your head. A pause.

“Twenty-four years, since 1980, Ms. Kim,” you responded, before sipping again.

“How about you and Mr. Saul?” you mumble, almost like a whisper in case Lalo could hear you through the wall. It goes noticed.

“A few months.” You hum, acknowledging it. Your brows knit, perfectly plucked and the tails filled in.

“First few months are really hard… hope you’re okay, Ms. Kim.” A sip. Noticed.

“It isn’t really. Same as before but a ring this time,” Kim replied. A sip. You seemed to really savor every sip of the tea, like it was a dessert. Your mousy face seems to remember something, then put it down.

A clank.

“Why are the first months hard for you, Mrs. Salamanca?” A hum, no clank nor sip, but your face seems to twist in displeasure at the thought but only for a fleeting moment before replaced with a face of contentment.

“I didn’t really have any boyfriends before Lalo. We got engaged within a week and got married a day or two later. It was hard not knowing what to do or living with a guy you don’t know well, but it turned out fine,” you grin, so hopelessly stupid, “I love him now.”

Every word was dripping in honesty and you meant every word; you loved him so much but every piece of context to your relationship only made her gears turn faster and grimmer. The hum of the men talking next door feels like the hum of an airplane taking off: deafening.

“Only a few days you were engaged?”

“Yes.”

“Was that normal, where you’re from?”

“Mexico? No, it just…” you seem to pause, looking for the word, “happened.” The consideration of what happened crosses your face, so brief you could blink and miss it as the contempt immediately transitioned to gratefulness, like reminiscing a happy memory.

“Do you love him?” It leaves her mouth before she can consider it, the implications and the man next door. Brows knit, mouth twitching.

“Twenty-four years and I love him. More then my life,” your voice cracks. A quivering of the lip.

Her eyes widen, realizing the territory she was breaching before stuttering, “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I was just thinking of you guys not really dating before -“

“I didn’t need to date. He already to chose me before I realized,” you quip, gathering yourself. Cross of the legs, the sundress bunching at the thighs and the thin fabric brushing your ankles. No part of you was out of place, the way she carried herself at work was the way you carried yourself permanently. There was no waver in you any longer; any moment of weakness was immediately covered up and veiled with the prim and proper pout of your pretty face.

“Is he good to you? You can’t look Saul or Ignacio in the eye for him and this is the second time I’ve seen you and you look so withdrawn,” Kim starts quietly, “do you think you’d be this withdrawn or stiff if he didn’t - treat you a certain way? Don’t you want to act like yourself without worrying about what a man thinks?”

 It is a feeling of fear, like when blood runs cold, Kim admits to herself internally. Your brows knit, then relax, eyes squint, then relax, lips purse, then relax. Your throat bobs with a gulp. You have this look of contemplation and consideration about it; every action revolved around Lalo. It was natural as breathing. To consider Lalo was integral to your routine as if it was brushing your teeth. Did he like this dress, the fabric and color? Did you smell like his favorite peachy perfume? Did you chew gum or mints before he came home to kiss you? 

Did you drop everything at a word to keep him happy?

It is a consideration, but it leaves you only with a sense of agitation. Of course she couldn’t understand. The lady with her college degrees and husband whom she was free to leave if she pleased and survive alone dragging any decision you made through the mud of her judgment thinly veiled as concern. She would never understand that there was no real choice with Lalo. In the forced marriage and the decades that passed were lost to the wind. What else could have been done? College? Dates with boys or crushes on tutors or waiters? Picking foods at the farm? It all seemed mundane and ludicrous to consider. To brew on the concept of shaping your own identity seemed pointless, redundant, and insulting. 

Loving Lalo was like winning the lottery, you surmised around year 9 on the marriage.

The crickets chirp a little louder as the door opens, your eyes glued to Kim until Lalo’s voice chimes in: “Ready to go home?” 

Your frame subtly relaxes, something that only puts a sense of unease in Kim as she watches you as your breaths level like you were finally calm. Being around Lalo was as natural as a fish in water or breathing air. 

It was depressing.

“Si,” you replied, smoothing the black sundress as you rose. The clavicles pressed taut against your skin and the flesh of your decolletage was framed by the low dip of the dress clinging on like a second skin. There’s the letter ‘E’ dangling off a chain and hovering over your heart. 

It’s like watching a magnet draw to another, the way he holds out his hand with tentative fingers like about to pick up a rose with thorns and careful to prevent pricking. 

He does look like a man in love and she looks like a woman in love 

It’s sickening.

[arayashikiii]

I'm a little worried, so I'll explain, but the post was written with quite playful intentions. I'm a bit embarrassed that someone mentioned my post(To be honest, it's a bit on the unpleasant side.), but I explain it in advance to avoid any misunderstandings.

I don't think Urasawa created the original story with any specific intent in terms of the relationship dynamics between Grimmer and Runge. The post is just a subjunctive statement. I just wanted to express my thoughts in a somewhat playful way within the Grunge fandom, and it is not the result of serious consideration.

[prince-everhard]

Weekly Oneshot Challenge - week 8

Title: Implications Rating: gen Fandom: Naruto Word count: 552 Summary: The Hokage isn’t kind. How could he be, with an entire village to protect and an entire army to command? Kakashi will do his duty, but he won’t forget. [strike team au]

-

Kakashi looked up from the file in his hands to his Hokage with an expression that could generously be called mildly treasonous. He felt more than mildly treasonous; in that moment he felt betrayed down to his very core. “Is this seriously…?”

The this that had Kakashi so shaken were the files in his hands. His soon-to-be genin team. A genin team was bad enough in Kakashi’s opinion. With the curse that followed him every time he dared to care about someone, giving him genin was like giving them a death warrant. Bad enough to risk Minato-sensei’s son in this way. Bad enough to risk the last loyal Uchiha to the village. Bad enough to risk a natural born mokuton user. All three of them together? When they could be so valuable to the village when fully trained?

As if that wasn’t enough, the three of them being on the same team painted a grim picture for their futures.

“You know what a team like this means, Kakashi.” The Hokage didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic for thrusting this kind of responsibility onto Kakashi. He puffed on his pipe for a moment. “I wouldn’t trust this kind of power with just any of the rank and file.”

Kakashi looked back down at the files in his hands. Two smiling faces and one grimmer than his own at that age looked back at him. They were still so young- all prepubescent baby fat and unscarred skin. An Uchiha, powerful and adaptable. A mokuton user, capable of both defensive and offensive abilities. A jinchuriki… paired with the two bloodlines historically known for being able to control the tailed beast’s power. Kakashi felt sick. He was being asked to train and mold what could very well be the most powerful strike team in the five great nations. He was being asked to bring his curse to bear on three children who would have targets painted on their backs for the rest of their lives.

Kakashi looked up at the Sandaime again. “Hokage-sama, I-”

“Consider what would happen to them without your guidance,” the Hokage interrupted him, as if he hadn’t even begun speaking. “They will be put together, surely you understand why. But who else would you have me teach them?” There was a calculating glint in the Sandaime’s eye. “I suppose they could be taught through more unconventional methods. Konoha hasn’t strayed too far from its roots, after all.”

It would have been kinder for the Hokage to have executed Kakashi right where he stood. Fury and absolute fear tore through him, and he struggled to keep his expression as clear as he could. Not that it would matter. The Sandaime wouldn’t have even hinted at ROOT without knowing what havoc it would cause Kakashi.

The paper crinkled as Kakashi’s fists clenched. He was trapped. There was nothing he could do except accept this responsibility and train those kids so well that they couldn’t fall victim to his curse. “I understand, Hokage-sama.” 

“And?”

It was only his iron control that kept Kakashi’s killing intent from leaking out. “I will train them to the best of my ability, and protect them until my last breath.” And when they shook the world, he vowed to himself, he would make sure nothing could stop them.

[funnywormz]

imho an example of what made DS9's grimmer moments appealing and enjoyable to watch was in Sisko himself: Despite starting the series on a very traumatic note and having to think over or even bend his own scruples throughout the series (esp 'In the Pale Moonlight'), he still ends the series as someone who's ultimately trying to do the right thing. And I feel like it made for a good example of having balance between allowing for nuance and moral ambiguity in Star Trek while still being a setting where the human race as a whole has gotten its shit together and is trying its best to do the right thing, y'know?

(Tangentically related but Sisko's 'it's easy to be a saint when you live in paradise' quote is so fucking raw and wouldn't have hit nearly as hard if it wasn't for the above stuff imo)

YEAH you're very right, i think in general the reason why ds9 works is bc it's emotionally and politically nuanced but also optimistic, and sisko is a rlly great manifestation of that you're right......... i like the depiction of starfleet/the federation as being imperfect but still trying their best, or at the very least being full of people with mostly good intentions, yet still occasionally genuinely fucking up anyways. sisko is much the same like....... he isn't perfect and he has to do some fucked up stuff for the greater good but he's TRYING and he wants to do what's best for everyone and to me that feels way more compelling than a character who's just a perfect paragon of virtue and heroism all the time imo, it's the effort that makes it meaningful

[captain-kit-adventuress]

I want to expand on this a teeny bit because it is SO 100% RIGHT.

In "The Solitary Cyclist," the rich creep harrassing the woman is Holmes' entry into the mystery. He doesn't need more than that to basically be like, "Oh, it is on, bitches," and does his thing. Only to find that without his help, this woman would have been drugged so the rich creep could marry her against her will by a defrocked vicar (aka not a legal marriage in any way but the rich creep doesn't care and would have treated it as real and she wouldn't be able to remember, thus leaving this woman as his legal property), only to be almost publicly raped by the rich creep as "consummation." This actually happens in the canon story. Like. Holmes understood that where things start as red flags like "rich creep harasses relatively powerless woman," the end of that road is only grimmer than the beginning.

And in "The Abbey Grange," technically the wife was only an accessory, her lover was the one who actually did the murder, and it was rather arguably in self-defence. In that case, the murdered husband is a rich man who was all kind and sweet and wonderful while he was wooing his lady, only to turn into an absolute tyrant after they were wed and she could do nothing about it. But the cover up was super intentional, and any other detective would have gotten hung up about it, especially because it implicated the wife and her trusted maidservant, so that's letting three people go instead of just one and you can bet Scotland Yard won't be having any of that. At no point does Holmes ever consider giving up the wife or the maid, but he's not so sure about the lover. So he's basically like, well, I'll just meet the fellow and see where he's at, and the guy comes to 221b and Holmes tests out his character and the dude passes with flying colours and Holmes goes, eh, good enough for me, go back to your job for a year and then have at it. All because Holmes understood that the road this woman was on ended in her own murder at the hands of the rich bastard, who had already been known to pay off officials so that the extent of his crimes would never be known. The way he justifies this? He reasons to Watson that he left all of the exact same evidence he had access to for the inspector, and if they can't figure it out from that, it's their own fault for being fucking dumb.

There is case after case after case like this, where someone powerful is preying on the powerless and Holmes is like, I AM NOT HAVING IT. Also important was the fact that a super important rich nobleman tries to buy Holmes' silence when the rich guy's son is blackmailing him (for reasons) and putting his younger son at risk to do so, and Holmes is like, fuck you, I don't deal that way.

Total icon.

The way Holmes textually canonically frequently regularly and often without hesitation commits crimes and/or protects criminals because he likes them, he thinks it's a silly thing to be criminalised for, he's bored, the police annoy him, he's gay, he's been drinking his respect women juice, or it was a really funny crime is just... Perfect of him actually

[maifrenthebesto]

Thinking about the imes I've been shamed by others for doing what I wanted to do at the time.

This one is a vent rather than an introspective monolog.

One time I wanted to do a silly little dance to make the new classmates laugh, since they seemed to be doing the same. They saw me do it and the defacto leader asked me to never do that again. I didn't, but not because he asked, but rather because there was no point in following up the act with the given audience.

There was another time where someone with an unusual amount of information on me tried to gesture at some notions that they deemed as moral failures that I would engage on in private with frequency in the hopes that I would conform to the standard they hoped of me to achieve. That may work for me, but given the information being hinted at, there was a level of intrusion that I was not comfortable with rather than a shared understanding of the concept masquerading as discussion. I stopped for a bit because it made me uncomfortable that they were that intrusive, then I got over it and realized that the path they took to be this holier than thou personality with nothing else on their hands than to cyberstalk me in order to justify their actions was an unstable foundation for any argument. You wouldn't want to do anything in private that you wouldn't do in public, or, "...if you need to do it in hiding you shouldn't do it at all." Ended up bein the most hypocritical statement amongst a sea of hypocrisy emanating from the mind of a man with an inferiority complex twice his stature.

Another time, a relative of mine was entrusted with an ounce of power after diligently working towards that end, as soon as they got it, they proceeded to shame me into not smoking (weed in particular) in front of the whole restaurant, which was conveniently populated at the time with people who could gain from having the ability to hold that over my head at a later time. I made a case for myself then but really I had to be okay with being seen as the black sheep from that point moving forward, because in a small town, anyone's business is a better topic of conversation other than your own.

In case you're wondering, I smoke still, not a lot, but it was never a lot. It just so happens that any amount was unacceptable in the eyes of some people. Whether they have good or bad intentions, the position comes from a place of a moral grandstanding, and while I encourage folk to do edibles over smoking any day, we shouldn't hate our neighbors just because their prerogative differs from our own, and that's not something you can force, let alone shame others into doing.

That one is a deeper wound because I know for a fact it's been talked behind my back by people outside of the table, but at the very least it shows me who is my friend because of me, and not because of what they could get out of me. So thank you! c:

One more to close out the series.

Once upon another life, there was an elaborate test put together by someone who needed to know how to feel about what they had done to me behind closed doors, so through unknown machinations, their first-removed cousin came with the intention of being a honey pot trap. They were overly nice to me, inviting me to be closer to their inner circle, and I felt as though a ray of sunshine hit me in an otherwise deolate moment of my life. The reality turned out to be much grimmer, as they only wanted me close to be able to mock me for failing the secret test they constructed, they set the parameters and conditions, and played against my over easy disposition towards kindness. It definitely was suspicious, and they always thought they were the "best" at what they did. It is a sad end to that tale, as I tried to forgive them over and over, but it was their cynicism that really glared through it all. I was disposable from the beginning, like the one before me, there's always a reason to seek an out, and the out can be easily created to save face. I think that if you want an out you should come out and say it, but I think theatrics are just easier for emotionally immature folk who need to have a jester to mock from afar to feel better about their situation in life.

Well, it's okay, I want to be okay with all of these things, and at the end of the day I am, it would just be better if these things weren't so, but if they weren't, I'd be writing about another set of items in this vent, wouldn't I?

Try to be kinder to those around you, because not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve, but we all bleed the same. So if I cut you, I apologize.

Can you apologize to those you've cut with your sharpness? A misguided blade, however sharp it may be, does not compare to a blunted edge with purpose.