#and is in no place to make ethical judgements

[glitter-stained]

Jason Todd Meta: My opinion on the csa headcanon

Does Jason's behaviour suggest he was a victim of csa?

There is very little, in terms of clinical signs, that’s going to point to csa specifically, because most symptoms, for psychiatric disorders, aren’t specific to one disorder or cause. One thing that’s usually a good hint would be children making very sexual statements/references/jokes/behaviours that are very inappropriate in context (a good example of this would be Roman Roy from Succession); night terrors are bed wettings amongst children/teenagers over a certain age. But that is absolutely not necessary: many, if not most victims of csa don’t display these specific signs, and a twelve years old that suffers from night terrors is not necessarily a victim of csa. The one thing that tells you for sure, in a person with trauma, that they have been a victim of csa, is that they’re telling you they have been a victim of csa. I’m insisting on that part because there’s a whole bunch of therapists (cough cough psychanalysts) that will tell you confidently that your psychiatric symptoms stem from a childhood sexual trauma (cherry on top of the shit cake if it’s incestuous) that you didn’t know about because you’ve repressed it. I repeat, that’s bullshit. If you meet a clinician who tells you that, RUN. So, a warning: this is probably the least “psychological analysis” of my “Jason psychological analysis posts”, because Jason’s symptoms do not allow us to conclude formally for or against a history of sexual abuse. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do some meta, make sure we're on the same page with what's analyzed here, some textual analysis, discuss what the csa headcanon does and does not imply in terms of his behaviour. I think it’s a good idea to start with it so we know where we’re standing with our analysis, regardless of the fact it’s maybe not the most interesting in terms of psychopathology and neuropsychology.

A couple of disclaimers:

I only talk about the comics I want to talk about. This is for two reasons, which are that 1) I do what I want and if I don’t like/don’t find something interesting, I’m not gonna waste time on it; and 2) I’ve been reading comics for a couple of months only, and there are, like, a lot of them. If there are comics you wanna see analysed under that lense, feel free to suggest them! I might not want to, but it also could be that I haven’t read them yet. Additionally, I'm not interested in questioning the morality of Jason's actions here. Ethics are fun, and I like talking about them sometimes, and morality sometimes has a place in talks about demonization but largely speaking this isn't the space for that. I separate talk about morality and psychology stuff as much as I can for a reason, so if you are looking here for excuses for his behaviour or arguments as to why he is a bad person, you're in the wrong place. Moral judgement is irrelevant here for the most part.

On the events of Red Hood: Lost Days:

Jason has, at some point in the comics, been a victim of csa. When Talia kisses Jason before pushing him off a cliff right after he got out of the Lazarus Pit, and when she initiates sex with him in Lost Days, that’s not consent!! That’s a grown woman taking advantage of a traumatized teenager who is, on top of that, deeply indebted to her. That’s a predatory act, with a steep power imbalance, it’s sexual assault, and on top of that there’s an element of suggested pseudo-incest. That decision was retconned, and thank god, because it was a brutal assassination of Talia’s character based on a good bit of racism, and also because the way it was portrayed doesn’t make it clear that Jason is a victim in a situation rather than that super annoying trope of “teenage guy gets to bang a hot MILF and hahaha lucky him”, writing a male character in a situation of SA without acknowledging it as SA or taking it seriously is one of the tropes I hate most, it reinforces stigmatisation and isolates victims. For all of these reasons, I’m not gonna include that element in my analysis, but it’s important to note that if you do include those scenes in your conception of it, then Jason is undeniably a victim of csa and everything discussed about it applies to him.

What if it were a lie?

I’ve said it before (and I’ll say it again), I deeply, violently hate headcanons/tropes where a character lies about being a victim of csa (whether it’s for manipulation, personal gain, any reason really I don’t care). It’s rare as fuck in real life, however it’s a common trope that feeds into fear of being wrongfully accused that causes push-back and increases social stigmatization. CSA is a painful thing associated with intense feelings of shame and already a deep fear of not being believed. Imagine making a considerable effort to seek help after something terrible happened/is happening to you, and you have to brave your fear of not being believed on top of that, and once you’ve made all that effort you get rejected and villainized because it’s just easier for the person you’re reaching out to not to believe it. So I’m awfully weary of this type of headcanon, and I think a general rule of thumb is “if your interpretation of what the character is saying is that he’s talking about how he was abused, especially if he’s talking about sexual assault, then it happened.” If you don’t like that, if you don’t feel like that’s good representation, then you can question the story, think it should be retconned, or rethink your interpretation of what the character says if it’s ambiguous, but hcing that the character lied about his assault is not a hypothesis we’re going to accept here no matter what. So we can start by scratching that one out: Jason never lies about being a victim of csa, or wilfully hints at it even though that’s untrue, at any point.

Two other ideas I’ve seen floating around that I think are worth mentioning:

No, just because Jason lived in the streets as a kid doesn’t mean the only way he survived was through underage prostitution. I genuinely don’t understand that idea, yes being a street kid makes you extremely vulnerable, yes it makes the risk of resolving to underage prostitution to survive higher but it’s absolutely not a fatality. That idea is, quite frankly, weird. Do you automatically assume if a real life person tells you they were in the streets for some time at a kid that they are a victim of csa? Also, I've seen the idea go around that because some people have a strong reading/hc of Jason as bi (which I have no problem with I love bi Jason), that would be an argument in favour of the csa hc. Please don’t do that. There’s no link between queer sexual orientations and childhood sexual abuse, that’s a harmful myth that we should work to deconstruct or, at the very least, not continue to vehiculate.

Another important thing to keep in mind: childhood sexual abuse =/= childhood sexual trauma.

Now, a traumagenic situation is a situation that might induce trauma (so development of, acute stress disorder, ptsd, cptsd, derealization, any traumatic pathology really). These situations exist on a continuum of probability to be traumatized by this situation. For example, a flood, a car accident, witnessing a murder and being sexually assaulted are all traumagenic situations, but the probability of developing trauma from them are very different. It hinges on personal, situational, social, and environmental risk factors (that have nothing to do with being weak, anybody can develop trauma). A definition for traumagenic situations can be found in the diagnostic criteria for ptsd in the dsm-5:

A. “Exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence in one (or more) of the following ways:

1. Directly experiencing the traumatic event(s).

2. Witnessing, in person, the event(s) as it occurred to others.

3. Learning that the traumatic event(s) occurred to a close family member or close friend. In cases of actual or threatened death of a family member or friend, the event(s) must have been violent or accidental.

4. Experiencing repeated or extreme exposure to aversive details of the traumatic event(s) (e.g., first responders collecting human remains; police officers repeatedly exposed to details of child abuse). Note: Criterion A4 does not apply to exposure through electronic media, television, movies, or pictures, unless this exposure is work related.”

Note that the this last criteria has been added from the DSM-5 in order to explain cases of PTSD observed in at-risk jobs like cops exposed to repeated detailed child abuse, first responders collecting human remains, or, crucially, vigilantes repeatedly exposed to brutal crimes. This means that Jason, when he works on the Dumpster Slasher case, when he is horrified to find Gloria in the immediate aftermath of her rape (and later finds her dead body, because witnessing the consequences of these traumatic events is also an important component of that second-hand trauma), is being exposed to a very traumagenic situation. As I said before, that doesn’t necessarily mean you will experience trauma (thank fuck for that), but there are factors that influence that. SA related situations has an already pretty high probability of inducing trauma. On top of that, age is a big factor in that: the younger you are, the less resources, emotional regulation, development and coping mechanisms to face the traumagenic event you have (though there is such a thing as “too young to have PTSD" -when your memory is simply not developed enough for the memory to traumatize you because you will not remember the event.) At fifteen, with his memory fully developed but his brain going through so much changes because of teenagehood and his past history, Jason would be at risk. On top of that, you’re more at risk to get traumatized if you’re already stressed out when the event happens, so Jason’s mental state at this point in his robin run is also a risk factor. All to say, it’s very plausible for Jason to have sexual trauma without being a victim of sexual abuse in relation to canon events. Besides, in headcanon territory when it comes to Jason’s childhood before Robin, there are so many ways to be exposed to sexual violence : witnessing/finding his mother being a victim (considering the position of extreme vulnerability Catherine was in), witnessing assault in the streets, being the victim of attempted SA and escaping, watching street kids get picked up and later find their bodies/being told by other kids, as a cautionary tale, in excruciating detail, testimonies of their own assault… Or for example, if we’re thinking about Arkham Knight, being constantly threatened with SA, it being hinted and joked about and hanging over him like a sword of Damocles is something I could see Joker and other inmates do that could definitely induce sexual trauma even if it doesn’t happen ; what matters most, in trauma, is that the fear is real. Mechanically, when we’re looking at the way trauma works even on a biological level, the overwhelming fear is at the core of the pathology. (This is also why you can develop PTSD after a psychotic episode.) Like, my point isn’t that one of these things happened to Jason, or that he has to have sexual trauma from the events of the Diplomat’s Son or anything -mostly just that this is a possibility, something very serious that happens and an important nuance that I never see in discussions on the csa headcanon, and while it’s not exactly what the debate is about, I think it’s something important to ponder.

Do you consider the csa hc to be canon?

So, there are a lot of Jason stories, and I’m very pro “not take in account what is said in comics you dislike in your conception of canon” because if I did that absolutely no bat character would be readable, I have to believe that no character is defined by their worst writers. And boy, does Jason have a lot of bad writing… On top of the personal retcons, there are also the canon retcons: like Battle for The Cowl is retconned… Unless someone decides to reinject/revamp it into the narrative (please don’t please don’t it’s irrecuperable let it lay with the Flying Todds where it belongs). So, let’s see. There are three writers/arcs that imply/mention the csa hc: Starlin’s writing of Jason’s post-crisis Robin Run (canon though some stuff in it seems to have been retconned), Winick’s writing in Green Arrow: Seeing Red (canon as far as I know), and Battle for the Cowl (retconned). It’s worth noting that one of those are considered to be foundational works for Jason’s character (Jason’s post crisis Robin Run and Starlin’s part in it), and another was written by Winick, who wrote the other two foundational Jason stories: Under The Red Hood and Red Hood: Lost Days. On a personal level, I’m very mitigated about what I like and accept about it. I base my whole love and characterization of Jason about his post-crisis Robin Run, I love that little guy so much, Starlin’s take on Jason’s Robin Run is absolutely canon to me (which does not mean I like Starlin as a writer, thank you very much). On the other hand of the spectrum, the only reason Battle for the Cowl isn’t my least favourite comic ever is because The Killing Joke exists, absolutely not canon, get this thing away from me. And then in the middle, my feelings on Seeing Red (on the entirety of Winick’s Jason really) vary depending on the day, because I do like a revenge story that challenges the status quo with tropes of “bad victim” and it sets up Jason as a character based on love rather than morals which I adore, but there are also some elements of psychophobia in the writing that I (who approach stories through the filter of psychopathology first and foremost) can’t just look past, and also the way it intertwines with classist stereotypes. So do I consider Seeing Red to be canon? In good faith, yes, but whether I’ll accept it as such really depends on the day. In terms of the csa headcanon: it’s heavily hinted in BTFC but not outright said, it’s there as a undercurrent in Starlin’s run because of his intention (to make Jason die of AIDS). And then we have Seeing Red. Basically Jason lists elements about Mia’s life, including her past with underage prostitution (so, just to be very clear, csa), and says they’re very similar, having both lived on the streets, and understand having to do bad things when it’s necessary. This is not the same as saying “I was a victim of csa”, and what he’s saying could be interpreted differently (we know that he was stealing tires, and “only what he needs to survive”, so he could have been referencing small-time theft.) So, it could be a reference to something else, I totally understand why some people want to interpret differently. It just… Feels like such a weird and weak argument to be equating boosting tires to underage prostitution, to me it’s very ooc (in comparison to UTH Jason), and it would feel like weak writing from someone like Winick. Aka it’s not technically canon, and you don’t have to accept it as such(I understand the mentality of "I'm rejecting this interpretation because it feels like demonization of csa victims" perfectly), but personally I think it takes a lot from Jason’s character in Seeing Red and from this story in general.

[ravenkings]

we are DEEP in #metoo backlash unfortunately

[designernishiki]

oh baby I knew it from the fuckin moment the addc was introduced that there’s just no damn way they DIDNT have some legally sketchy shit going on with the alzheimers/dementia patients and unethical clinical trials. I feel so vindicated right now

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “PRETTY BOY.”

— expect the worst when whitney has a stupidly, dumb puppy love crush on his upperclassman that happens to be you and even more so, when you predictably take notice of it. but, remember— he asked for it first, didn’t he? 3.5k w.

— warnings? yeah, mildly dub-con, handjob in broad fucking daylight, somewhat exhibitionism although no one gets to see the stupid, pretty boy squirm and upperclassman male reader who’s sort of.. a bitch. y’know the drill by now, plus a younger whitney (still an adult, no worries. I’m not into that sorta shit.)

Like a clueless moth instinctually drawn towards a burning flame, he’s no goddamn different than the clingy idiots who can’t seem to automatically take a hint when given so in their direction— y’know, the ones he’d audibly snicker and scoff at due to the sheer embarrassment, disgustingly obvious puppy love streaked along their flushed faces as they mindlessly follow the other’s every move. Innocently peer up in search of their crush’s approval like some sort of brain dead dog whose sole purpose is to joyfully please their master. Hell, it’s gross, and the blonde doesn’t make it any more difficult to showcase his wrongly placed dislike for it— yeah, by the repeated gagging noises spilling forth from his open maw.

“It’s nauseating to watch, stinks up the whole room with those big, puppy, doe eyes”— he’d openly say with an absent shrug of his broad shoulders, glinting, barely visible glimpse of the metallic barbell freshly pierced upon his curved tongue proving his judgemental statements to be otherwise.. fuckin’ hypocritical, no? ‘Cuz, isn’t that same piercing found in his mouth done due to one, single, stray comment you aimlessly made by chance?

Not like your liking of things plays a grand role in whatever he does, trouble he’s immediately roped into, fuck— no, definitely not! It’s a stupid, damn coincidence is what it is, nothing more and nothing less either. No need to uselessly pry any further in the meaning of his baseless actions. Just.. happened to have it done on the same consequential day you confidently expressed your idea that he’d get one because— y’a said it’d look good on him, didn’t you? And, look here, he fuckin’ did it like some cheap mutt. Obediently parted his rosy lips for your viewing pleasure to willingly prove to your pretty eyes that he truly went along with your absently made suggestion, for real. Gleefully hung upon your every important word like his life depended on it— god, it isn’t like that, okay?

An upperclassman he’s briefly looked up to is all you are, all you’ve ever been for that matter, and he’ll punch the shitty, fuckin’ lights out of any big mouthed idiot who dares to say so otherwise. Right in the guts for spouting out complete, nonsensical bullshit, alright?

Or is it time to reluctantly admit it with a bashful blush apparent upon his contorted features— accompanied by gritting teeth stubbornly grinding together in a futile refusal of his shoddy, unwanted sentiments burrowed deep within his stuttering heart? As if he’d ever would in your presence, which he possibly can’t help himself, to childishly imitate your gestures in the withering hopes that’d you scarcely notice his thinly veiled efforts, acts filled with meaning.

Well, well.. Whitney, the supposedly cold and untouchable bully here isn’t so unique nor different from those idiotic dumbasses he’d routinely poke fun at, huh? Time to face the embarrassingly evident reality set before him, whether his gaze dares to instinctively stray away or not from the unsettling truth— ah, good thing you’re here to seamlessly guide him on the right path, ain’t that right?

As for the so-called, morally ethical path he’s hopelessly talking about.. Perhaps, that’s a plain, ol’ lie he’ll repeatedly tell himself of so considering your shared reputations at hand. More likely than not, often referred to — as much as the nickname itself has the tip of his ears prickling scarlet, noisily yelling at the fuckers who cheekily name him that — your little, dumb puppy. Fuck, he’s not! The day he, himself, Whitney of all people, wordlessly bows down to the height of someone’s heel frustratingly grinding atop of his head, is the day one can loudly claim with unbridled conviction, that he’s officially lost his goddammit mind, that’s what.

Listen, you’re the one who faithfully promised and guaranteed your unwavering protection if he stuck to your sides like some fuzzy pet, so he did the obvious choice. Specially when met with the shitty conditions this rundown town, definitely shady for that matter, is. Rather be silently stamped as the ‘sly follower’ who went along with the smartest choice presented to ‘em— your offer, by the way — than some nobody seamlessly forgotten on the dirtied streets. Least, that’s what likely replays on and on in his mind like some cheap, broken record to dumbly convince his unmoving mind of what this annoyingly persistent feeling is deep within the pit of his quivering tummy. Annoying, ain’t it?

Speakin’ of tummy, you sure are touchy-feeling with him, aren’t ya? Not that he necessarily minds nor will outwardly admit the slightest shivers that comes to grace the entirety of his figure when met with the briefest grazes of your fingertips flush against his bare skin. Likes the physical contact intimately shared between you two? Fuck no— just keeping himself on your good side in case you were to suddenly discard him like you habitually do with your other.. nameless toys, which he doesn’t possess enough fucks to bother learning their names. As long as your flickering gaze doesn’t happen to stray too far from his, he’s actually, pretty content.

‘Course, it did progressively start off with the sorta things you’d absentmindedly do with your numerous friends. Brush of his golden strands glimmering against the gleaming sunlight— shit, even acted out like some cheesy rom-com at the way his face instantly heated up, glimpse of vulnerability you seem to so easily catch on with him and fuck, does he detests it— truly does like no other. Still, lets y’a carelessly stroke your fingers throughout the mess of a hairstyle the delinquent wears, even fucking.. tenderly pushed a single, stray strand of hair behind his burning ear. Shoulders instinctively drawn up in sheer defence at the tension residing within him because, really, how do y’a expect him to relax and ease up when it’s with you?

“What? What is it? Do I have shit in my hair or somethin’?” Oh yeah, nice goin’ on that fuckin’ stupid question of his, huh? Flush adorning the length of his face— god, even down towards his neck too— immediately deepening at the crude choice of words. Might casually speak so with anyone, but when it comes to you, he’s got this instinctual urge to not come off as some try-hard desperately trying to butter you up in hopes of your returned approval of him.

“Hm? It’s nothing, I just think you’d look cute if you grew out your hair a little bit. Don’t you think?” Ah, and there you go— with your surprising compliments spoken out of the blue like that.

“Cute?? Are you seriously tryna fuck with me right now?” Defensive mechanism or whatever to draw up that blank conclusion since this is just about the first time any sort of adjective resembling that of ‘adorable’ by the way, could’ve been made to plainly describe a rowdy, unrelenting boy such as Whitney.

“What? You don’t think so? I think you’re cute as shit, Ney-ney.” That fuckin’ nickname again, god. Quit it, will ya? And, don’t try to tentatively lean closer in his personal space when calmly making that stupid remark too! Your goddamn— ah, hot breath effortlessly heating up the shell of his ear, curled lips almost, insistently pressed against his cheek. “Real fucking cute, actually. Definitely cuter than the average boy that’s for sure— prettier too, but you’ve got too much of a stick up your ass to admit that, don’t you?”

At this point, you’re practically taunting him, and he would’ve unabashedly swung his fist if it weren’t for that said person being you. Grin cracking upon your lips at the doe, wide-eyed look he’s greeting you with, seemingly unable to utter so much as a word to that uncharacteristically depraved statement, or is that your idea of a damn compliment to another guy? Shit, that’s right! Both guys is what you two are— so, his cock hidden underneath the fabric of his ripped jeans, languish legs lazily stretched out along the creaking, wooden bench, shouldn’t be stirring up with peeked interest at the mind numbing prospect of endlessly being called ‘pretty’ by you. Nor profusely encouraging the alarming amount of translucent pre-cum dizzyingly forming at the swollen tip of his cock head, crudely staining the material sheer. Give the blonde a supportive head pat while you’re at it, too. Ah.. should be saying somethin’ right about now lest he wants to appear as some bashful fool.

“I don’t—“

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t swing that way, I know. I’m not hitting on you, I’m just telling the truth as it is. Got any idea how many guys would line up just to fuck your dirty mouth? Maybe your tits too, if they’re into that sorta stuff— shit, I think they’d go for the ass too, definitely. I could make a goddamn fortune just whoring out your pretty, slutty body to the old fucks at the pub, y’know that, Whit?” Endless chattering on and on, explicit details of how some grubby old men could be here, disgustingly groping his flesh instead. Yet, that lingering glimmer within your gaze, noticeably darkening in return at the mere idea of it as your thumb comes forth to idly tap at his blazing cheek.

“But, you know.. I don’t. I won’t. Not cuz’ I’m a nice guy or anything— hah, truthfully, I’m no better than them for wanting to ruin a pretty face like yours.” You’re.. god, he can’t keep up with whatever shit you’re nonchalantly spouting, gracing solely his ears to be the one to silently listen to this.. crap, can’t really say it— fluttering in his tensed stomach from your bold admission, depraved wants just as much as he does late at nights— wanting to fuck him too.

“Honestly, do you know why I don’t use your sorry fuckin’ ass, Whitney?”

If he’s meant to attentively keep up with your words by now, then his brain has happily shut off due to the dizzying amount of semi-insults, degration and somewhat praise shot in his way. Like he’d fucking know, shit!

“See, it’s cuz’ it’s real funny to watch you trotting ‘round my side like some dumb, fucking puppy begging for its owner’s attention. I give you just a bit of praise, and your doggy tail would start wagging if you even had one. You look so goddamn stupid that it’d hurt my conscience to sell you out like this. And, I don’t like it when other fucks touch what’s mine either. I’m not running some gracious charity, am I?” To be truthful, if you tirelessly keep up with that incessant spouting, he’s bound to boil over like some screeching, burning kettle considering.. the obscene amount of scorching heat riddled across his features currently, adorning his cheeks so stupidly — and prettily too, huh— crimson red for your unwavering gaze solely. Seems like you’re liking the rare show in front of you quite a bit, aren’t you?

Stunned would’ve been one of the few lacking words remaining in the thick, daunting dictionary to scarcely describe the absolutely idiotic expression he’s nicely sporting right about now.

“Shut up.. I’m not—“ Fuck, fuck, fuck!! And, how the simple concept of verbal speech dutifully fails the bully at a time like this. Great going there, fuckin’ dumbass! Visibly seething would’ve been the most reasonable reaction in face of this, but— but— fuck! Entirety of this crap is all too quick for his sluggish mind to steadily keep up with your unpredictable actions, pathetically keening with a drawled out curse— no, more like a high-pitched whine is what it truly sounds like, once your calloused palm gingerly strips him free from his relatively loose jeans in one fell swoop.

“What the fuck’re you doin’—?? Mmph, fuck.. don’t—“ Dumb question to be asking when the self-evident answer is plainly in front of him.

Weeping cock, flushed in the cooling, outside air, naturally springing forth out of its constricting confines to audibly slap against his bare rigid tummy. Aw, now ain’t that real pretty to witness? Timid, twitching cock profusely leaking out sticky pre to messily smear along the curve of the blonde’s stomach, which you promptly do the honours for him, unabashedly too.

Always been pretty confident in your audacity to joyfully serve people, haven’t you? By god, he’s half-hated ya for meddling with others private businesses to begin with, although his throbbing cock being so smoothly tended to can say otherwise, idly disagree with his withering logic. Shakily sighing, puffing out heated huffs of air as your so— fuck.. annoyingly warm and soft hand loosely tucks ‘round his fat cock, teasingly squeezes him down at the base. Meanly drawing out more pearly globs of his dribbling pre-cum with a resounding, wet squelch!, undeniable proof of his shared arousal at the newfound situation he’s unfortunately finding himself in.

‘Unfortunately’— one says, funny that you see right through that by the mocking nature of your barking laughter, sharply ringing within his ears.

“My, who’s the exact fucking pervert here, Whit? Y’seem pretty hard to me. Actually, you’re dripping wet down there, y’know that?” No fucking shit. Ready to single-handily cum from a single, measly stroke of your fist snugly wrapped around the veiny girth of his quivering length— fucking hell. Head instinctively thrown back to which you soon wistfully take advantage of, ‘course you would, wouldn’t you? Lazily pressing hot, heated kisses along the sharp edges of his jawline that soon has the same bully, known to be so very resistant, stifling wanton moans, firmly clasping a palm over his gaping mouth in a heedless effort to remain discreet as possible. Slithering, pink tongue laving and tracing over the heated shell of his ear, ushered snickering coupled by bouts of utter filth being so brazenly whispered towards him. And your canines— ah, are not helping at all either. Grazing the bobbing curve of his throat, delicately sucking a bruising mark upon the tanned skin to pridefully admire over later. “Nnh— no, fu— ah, uuckk! N-Not there, you bastard!!”

“Not here? What’s the matter, Ney-Ney? Can’t fucking speak properly when your pretty, pink cock is being stroked off like this?” Would’ve scornfully refuted you, barked out the meanest curses that would’ve had an elderly woman shockingly clutch her pearls if given the chance, but stealing a discreet glance down to humiliatingly witness how sticky and wet his tip has gotten, messily stained your palm in a string of creamy, white pre is not.. Possessing way too much pride to do so. “Y’see, you like this— hah, fuck— you like it when I actually take what I fucking want from you and ruin you down to this cute, little, slutty mess, yeah?”

“I-It’s not like that—“ Uncharacteristically meek protest on his part. Cat got his tongue, ‘s that it?

“No? Pretty boy. Use your words, will you?” Oh, fuuuuckkin’ god. Seeing sheer darkness as his eyes reflexively roll backwards to his skull from casually being called ‘pretty’ by your lulling voice.

Have any idea the way your hushed words dizzyingly affects his fuzzy brain? Renders him alarmingly stiff like a stoned statue, wobbling knees surely bound to buckle beneath the weight of your relentless taunting, all the while being boldly jerked off in broad, fucking daylight — hidden amongst the rustling bushes of the park, mind you — still, very much in an open space where one can be so easily seen by oncoming passerbys. And even then, the absolute control you possess over him, sneakily snaking your arm ‘round his middle, relishing in the little, heated gasps hurriedly rushed out of this dirty, fucking perverted bitch of a blonde’s mouth is too way goddamn much for him to precariously withstand another tortuously long second of this shit.

Yeah, one more minute? He’s fucking busting by then.

“What’s the matter? Can’t keep up? Gon’ shoot your filthy load soon, ‘s that it?” Mild disinterest lacing your very tone with a slight hint of, what’s that..? Actual anticipation? Hah, as if he can barely discern between the mind buzzing layer of reality set upon him when coupled by your soft— so fucking warm, shit.. hand relentlessly fisting him dry, milking every thick droplet steadily trickling forth. Uncaring for the accumulated mess below you both as his hips instinctually roll forward against the rewarding palm of your curled fist, sickeningly jolts at a noticeably harsh press of your padded thumb atop his oozing tip. “Well, then.. Go ahead, I’m not stopping you, am I?”

“Cmon, pretty. Paint my hand all sticky and nice for me, yeah?”

Predictably so, as the uttered rumours had notably confirmed— how downright desperate Whitney’s always apparently been for you to the damn point that he’s automatically cumming on command like a dog patiently withholding for its owner’s words and oh, was it fucking worth the extensive wait. Stifled whimper weakly slipping out, fingers immediately latching onto the comforting feel of your forearm lazily slung around his quivering figure for proper support. No use in making a fool out of himself by clumsily buckling down to his slacked knees— not that he hasn’t already, though too late to be thinking about it twice, huh? Thick, sticky strings of his hot seed directly shot out of his pulsing cock and into the air to, as expected, pervertedly dirty your open hand in a mess of his load which is kinda.. hot, no? Fuckin’ get ahold of yourself, shit! Minus the rest having uncontrollably splattered downwards onto the ground, pitifully traced in a puddled mess of droplets.

And somehow, the barely discernible hint of a relieved breath tumbling from between his parted lips. The natural conclusion that this is it, oncoming closure bound to take its place yet still— still, damn it; Always managed to keep the dirtied blonde on the edge of his toes, haven’t you?

So, truly, it shouldn’t have came off as an unexpected shock then, how you so brazenly mumble a stuttered curse beneath your puffed sighs at the melting sight. “Ah, fuck.” Swiftly freeing your fat— well, admittedly hefty cock for his following eyes to shamelessly gawk at in turn because, y’know.. fuck, he won’t outright voice it, but the sinful glimmer in his wide gaze says it all. Innate itch, unadulterated need— god, to merely sling down to his knees, sloppily drool all over your tasty-looking cock and coat it all shiny and wet with his spit. Although, too busy admiring the rare glimpse of your contorted features strained with pure, unrestrained concentration to bother paying much attention to the repeated, distinct fapping! noises of your cock being so hurriedly stroked raw, as if in a hurry, almost.

Furrowed brows deepening, lashes fluttering in their wake as your rosy lips that he’s known time and time again to be nonchalantly formed into a grin— now, so prettily stained crimson by the harsh press of your teeth against your puffy, bottom lip. “Don’t— ugh, fucking look at me like that.” You audibly groan out in the mix of a huffed chuckle. Slightest flush delicately dusting your cheeks a pink hue, so damn pretty too. “Hah, it makes things kinda awkward, y’know?” Ah, takes less than a stretched minute for his brain to acutely process what’s hit him before given the proper chance.

Something hot— and sticky too, actually it’s pretty evident what it should’ve been if he wasn’t so goddamn brain dead within this bleary moment. Splattering amongst the already present mess you’ve both collectively made of yourself, thick ropes of sweet cum landing right upon his rumpled uniform you’ve taken a gleeful joy of permanently ruining. Judging by the cackling laughter soon drawing forth outta ya thanks to the sheer, dizzying sight of the cum-stained mess he’s forced to pitifully endure for the time being.

Look what you’ve done, god— even if you manage to be one step ahead of him, as always, in such a predicament as the delinquent merely receives a thrown jacket straight in the face. “Sorry for ruining your nice shirt of yours, I couldn’t really help myself when you looked so dumb like that. Take it as an apology, alright?” Exhaling out shakily in the chilling air suddenly alarmingly cold without your warm weight shifted against his own, too deliriously fucked out of his mind to muster up a rightful remark to your cheaply made one. Dumb, little ol’ puppy is what he is to you, no?

And perhaps then, it’s the idiotic absurdity of your actions, swiftly turning away like the encounter itself hadn’t even taken place right at this very spot. Footsteps progressively fading amongst the rhythmic crunches of fallen leaves fluttering down from the withering trees, gaze tentatively flicking downwards to where your stupidly soft, discarded jacket rests within his arms. Meaningless gesture is what it should’ve been notably perceived as, though that doesn’t really help the gradual thump! of his swaying heart noisily beating against his chest nonetheless.

That’s not— oh.

Oh.

“..Fuck.”

Yeah, being wholly swallowed by the ground beneath his feet doesn’t sound so bad now, does it?

[thesirencult]

PAC : WHO IS IN LOVE WITH YOU ?

PILE 1

2 Of Swords, Ace Of Wands, The Hermit

Two people are interested in you or you will find yourself choosing between two people further on.

Who you choose will change the course of your life.

The first person feels new for you. They make you feel like you have a purpose. They talk about being in alignment with your goals and dreams. Don't get me wrong but they remind me of people who sell courses for a living and life coaches (no shade here, their tone reminds me of that and that doesn't mean they are scammers etc.). This person sees the glass half full and inspires you to go after your dreams. This may include leaving what you know behind and travelling with them.

The second individual is someone you don't see clearly. You may not even know who this person is as they have been isolating themselves for a while. There is another possibility though, that they are a "monk mode" individual. They are earthy and in touch with themselves but always seem to look at others from afar. They are addicted to "suffering" to make themselves better. I don't think this person talks to you or if they do it's sporadically and in a public place, like the gym. You could be their gym crush and you wouldn't even know. They like Batman.

PILE 2

10 Of Swords, Judgement

Your person will act as a catalyst to your healing. I'm saying "your" person because you will have a relationship with the person who is/will be in love with you.

Your heart knows who they are. They make you feel aligned and in touch with your heart center. This person appreciates your femininity and let's you explore your dreams while they take on the world for you.

PILE 3

Queen Of Swords, 8 Of Pentacles, The Hanged Man

They are a truth seeker. Whatever this person tells you, you know it's true. They don't lie. They are ethical and lawful.

They could work or are interested in a career as a layer, doctor or psychologist. Whatever they want to do requires them to look straight at the facts.

This person may not seem that romantic at first. Like the roses on the grey staircase, small actions are their thing.

They are very caring and focus on being a provider. Acts of service are their love language.

Something I find very interesting about this person is the fact that they are a great people reader. In their life they had to deal with people with very ill intentions and they've seen the harshest side of humanity. This has made them more spiritual and able to sit back and observe rather than judge things on face value.

PILE 4

2 Of Pentacles, Knight Of Cups

You were walking down the road when you caught their eye or entered the room or bumped onto them at the coffee shop. It doesn't matter how you met but when you entered their life they went to La La Land.

Dreams, fairytales, fantasies... This person has a lot on their plate. When they met you or when they will meet you they will feel as if you are the answer to all of their issues.

You are a dreamer and trying to find your footsteps and unique path. This person will see something in you and wants to take care of you.

They will be very romantic and treat you like you are a unicorn.

[directdogman]

вопрос от друга! :

Вот что делают с трупом в Дилтаун?

Например есть чувак, который всю свою жизнь жил в Дилтаун и по каким-то обстоятельством он скончался.. что тогда сделают с его предметом вместо головы?

Google translate's a bit off for this one (I believe it's asking what happens to object heads when the people wearing 'em died?) So I'll answer that:

It's treated on a case-by-case basis. Often enough, parts are removed from the head (mainly optical sensors) and donated to hospitals + manufacturers, though there's some ethical debate over this. In the same way people can sign up to be organ donors, many object headed people give specific legal consent to have parts removed from their heads when they die specifically to avoid the ethical debate over what parts of an object head are fair game to take out.

Beyond that, the family usually gets to decide exactly what to do with the head. If the body is buried, more often than not, the head is kept on the body after autopsy. This allows for families to have open casket funerals + wakes, as seeing the body without your loved one's body without a head is... well, not exactly a happy experience for most people.

In the case of cremations, the head is usually discarded separately. While places will allow the family to keep the head shell (and some even offer to seal the edges and sell the head itself BACK to the family as an urn to keep the ashes in), this practice is very very seldom actually done, as it's a bit like having your loved one's remains served back to you within a mummified, lifeless head. Not super fun or comforting. At best, a pretty drab decoration for the home. The LAST thing you want to see while you're taking a trip to the fridge to eat shredded cheese out of the bag at 3am is the face of a deceased loved one, staring at you in still, cold judgement.

The best comparison I can make to it in our world is how some people get their pets taxidermied. The reasons most people would not wanna do that in reality is why the practice is so rare in-universe, and so, heads get buried with bodies OR discarded on cremation more often than not. (After being picked clean for useful parts, provided the family is okay with it or the person gave legal permission prior to their death.)

Hope this helps!

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Annotated Editions: the case of Jane Austen's Persuasion

The other day I made a post about my poor opinion of David Shepard's annotated editions of Jane Austen's novels, specially in terms of how much praise they get in the Austen fandom. That last qualifier is important, because while in general I do think they aren't great in a vacuum, it's specifically the place of honor they get in fandom that makes my judgement harsher; not because popular=bad, but because, well, if you claim to be excellent, you should be excellent.

So I'm gonna try here to compare three annotated editions: Shepard's, Norton Critical, and Oxford World's Classics.

Let's begin with the introductions/prefaces. Prefaces are complicated, because for the most part there is a tradition in this sort of literature to treat them as a free space for an essay, basically fulfilling the role of an afterword, instead of working as an introduction, as a summary of the historical, biographical, anthropological, artistic, etc, clues that will facilitate and enrich the comprehension of the text by the reader.

How goes Shepard about his introduction to Persuasion?

There's a brief note to the reader before the preface itself explaining what kind of notes he has added to the text; so far so good.

The preface itself is roughly divided in the following sections:

a biographical sketch of Jane Austen (5-10%)

comments on the spot Persuasion occupies popularity wise in the list of Austen novels, followed by, as Shepard's argument for why it is so;

An in-depth comparative analysis of the whole plot and main characters of the novel, with other Austen novels, pointing "pros" and "cons." (90-95%)

A comment on how he thinks Austen's style would have been moving forward, disagreeing with Virginia Woolf.

The first section is useful to contextualize the work, but the second is basically spoilers + Shepard's opinions on the novel and on the novel as compared to other Austen novels; this latter part is of little or none usefulness to the reader, and even its quality as an essay has several very weak, "sloppy" points. For example, the assertion that Persuasion, like the rest of Austen's novels is a romance; not only because many would disagree, but because a good introduction would include a discussion of the genre of the novel, and for an Austen novel the discussion and explanation of the nature and tensions of romance, bildungsroman and comedy of manners is VERY important. Another weak point is the blank assertion that Austen never wrote a scene between two men alone, which is false). Another notorious absence in this introduction is the historical setting of Persuasion; it is a rarity between Austen novels in how relevant the Napoleonic Wars are for the plot and how firmly they date the narrative. Tied to this are considerations of class, and the meaning of the navy as a symbol of meritocracy and Austen's special relation to it through her family... none of which are even mentioned in this preface.

How does the Norton Critical Edition by Patricia Meyer Spacks tackle the same part?

When did Austen write the novel and when was it published.

Brief summary of currents of opinion on tone and theme of the novel.

A discussion of traditional views on the "femininity" of Persuasion.

Critical evaluation of this in relation to contemporary analysis of the ethical and the political in Austen and the novel.

Her own interpretation of the novel as an ethical study on the concept of self-love.

A brief note on the choices made for the presentation of the final text.

I do think, even by this brief summary, one can uncontroversially say this is a better preface. While it still lacks the practicality of information that is mentioned rather than explained about the context of the novel, its use of spoilers is sparse and isolated rather than extensive. No supporting references to other novels are made (which I think is a good thing, because those involve a certain requirement of familiarity for the reader), and while the personal interpretation of the editor is presented, it is not an opinion on why Persuasion is popular, but a reference, a way for the reader to organize and approach the text of the novel.

Now on to Oxford World's Classics, introduction and notes by Deidre Shauna Lynch.

Napoleon and the briefest historical context he provides for the novel

An analysis of Persuasion's uniqueness in the Austen canon through the character of Anne

The permanence/change break through the changed roles of houses and the predominance of travel in comparison to previous novels

The role of memory and with this a tieback to continue elaborating on the historical context of the Napoleonic Wars in England and the cultural change it brought in the understanding of History

Persuasion as a sequel-like novel, for which a main interpretative key is that of History and Memory

A stronger attention on aging and disability

The interrelation between war history and social history in the novel, and the time frame of the events

More elaboration on the theme of past and present and personal history, with a contrast between Sir Walter's reading of the baronetage and Anne's reading of the newspapers

An interpretation of Persuasion as commentary on Sir Walter Scott's restoration plots; Wentworth and Mr. Elliot as two forms of return of the past.

An analysis of The ConversationTM between Anne and Harville still on the theme of personal history.

A comparison between the two endings of the novel

The assertion that the novel isn't melancholy and nostalgic in the end, but open to the future

This introduction is much more meandering and essay-like than the Norton one, and in that way much closer to Shepard's, in its use of spoilers and commentary on a text the reader is unfamiliar with. It's definitely not a GoodTM introduction as introduction, but it still includes mentions of important historical context and keys to reading the text; and its commentary provides references not only to other authors writing at the time, such as Scott and Wordsworth, but of more contemporary sources as well. There is some poliphony to it beyond a mention in passing to Virginia Woolf.

Besides that, it's also worth mentioning that the volume includes a brief biography of Austen and a chronology of her life elsewhere, a full note on the text editorial choices, a selection of bibliography for further reading, and three context appendixes on rank and social status, dancing, and Austen's relationship with the navy. As much as I'd think those appendixes should have taken the place of preface and the preface a place of afterword, the information to the reader has been included.

In terms of this kind of extra, Shepard has included a chronology of the novel, maps, and pictures in his notes, which are features the other editions don't have that might be of interest; but he has not provided good contexts like the Oxford edition does, either in the introduction or as appendixes; or pieces of solid, well researched essays and contextual texts like Norton does. Both Oxford and Norton include the cancelled chapters in an annex; he doesn't.

Someone would reasonably argue that Shepard chose to include all contextual information in the notes, and here is where personal opinion comes across the strongest: I think he does it that way, not for the reader's convenience, but for the padding of the notes and to inflate the value of his role as an editor. The addition of titles to the chapters of the novel, and the repetition of notes and information serve, in my opinion, the same end. In my opinion, there is a substantial difference between providing someone contextual information before they engage with something, and giving it as the something unfolds. Your first experience of a soccer match would be entirely different if someone told you the rules of the game, the stakes of the particular match, etc, before you get to the stadium than if they were to feed them to you during the match; and I think the former is a much more satisfying and rich experience.

So, notes!

Shepard's editions have lots and lots of notes. For example, for Chapter I of Persuasion he makes 65 notes, against 9 of Norton and 15 of Oxford. A first impression would say "oh, that's a really nice lot of info!" until you stop to think if this is really such a heavy text that it requires a note every 40 words on average. That's almost two notes on the extension of this paragraph alone. Let's dig a bit more to see where are the differences in selection.

Norton's, as you might have guessed now, tend to be editions heavy on the commentary side through essays and articles, and so notes are minimal and sparse. The notes on this chapter are on "baronetage", "patents", "creations", "Dugdale", "worsting", "chaise and four", "Tattersal's", "black ribbons", and "alineable". None of the notes go over a line. Oxford includes all these, and adds "High Sheriff", "exertions of loyalty", "duodecimo", "heir presumptive", "awful legacy", "dear daughter's sake", "every ball", and "his agent". Listing all the Shepard notes would be exhausting, so let's try some general classification of the notes that aren't the ones above:

3 geographical notes that amount to "this is a place in England, see map", which are easily understood in context.

14 glossary notes which usefulness/necessity is very variable. Awful and town are very reasonable notes; one wonders the necessity of notes on bloom and independence which are easily understood by context.

This theme of usefulness extends to the rest of the general notes. That stillborns were not uncommon during Jane Austen's era, or that Austen's fabricated entry of the baronetage actually does look like an entry of the baronetage is trivial and not necessary for the understanding of the text at all. That lady Russell is the widow of a knight is something that the text will state the following chapter, and that knights ranked below baronets will be heavily implied there too. The explanation of what an old country family is literally reads as redundant. Many notes are like this: information that is trivial, explained further on in the text or easily understood through context. This is specially the case of notes like the one saying that cousin marriage wasn't illegal, that people of high status spent a lot of money showing it off, and that rich people also went into debt.

There are useful notes, but when you trim them down to the actually pertinent and useful, there aren't many more than the ones included in the Oxford edition.

Now let me take a look at some of the notes shared between Shepard and Oxford:

On patents/creations:

Shepard:

The book listed families in order of receipt of the title. Thus Sir Walter would first see the earliest patents (i.e., grants conferring the baronetcy); there would be only a “limited remnant” of them because most early baronetcies had expired by this point due to the death of all possible heirs. Sir Walter could only know this by consulting another book such as Dugdale (see note 9) and comparing its list of all baronetcies with the entries in his baronetage, for the latter would show only existing titles—that he has done this indicates how obsessed he is with the matter. This carefully acquired knowledge arouses Sir Walter to admiration for himself as the holder of a surviving baronetcy. He would later come to the many pages showing the creations, or new titles, of the last (i.e., eighteenth) century and feel contempt for their relative newness (his came from 1660; see note 12).

Oxford:

limited remnant of the earliest patents: a title was also referred to as a patent: ‘a writ conferring some exclusive right or privilege’ (Johnson). Sir Walter regrets the passing away of the families whose titles date back to the seventeenth century. James I had created the title of baronet in 1611 and had used the financial support he obtained from the baronets he created to fund his army in Northern Ireland. endless creations of the last century: Sir Walter’s contempt for the low-born recipients of the new titles that the government had distributed would extend to those who, like the commander of the Fleet, Lord Nelson (the son of a mere country clergyman), had recently been rewarded with newly created peerages for their war service.

Oxford omits information that will be said explicitly later on in the text (that the Elliot baronetcy dates from 1660), and in its place includes a very relevant example of a new patent to show why Sir Walter looks with contempt upon new creations, rather than simply repeating what the text says.

High sheriff:

Shepard:

The High Sheriff (often simply called sheriff) was, after the Lord Lieutenant, the leading official in a county, responsible for the execution of the laws. He served for one year. The position, usually held by a member of the gentry, carried great prestige and would be a source of family pride.

Oxford:

the chief representative of the Crown in county government, the High Sheriff presided over parliamentary elections and the administration of justice. Holders of the office (which is now a mainly ceremonial one) were chosen annually from among the principal land-owners of the county.

While Shepard gives me something I can gleam from the text itself (the social importance of the title) Oxford tells me what his job entailed.

The note on duodecimo is an interesting case, where technically Shepard's information is more complete, but he spreads it in such a way as to pad his note count and extension. He simply notes that it is a small book, and refers to a note on books on chapter X:

“Large” could refer to thickness but is more likely to refer to length and width. At this time books came in widely varying sizes. The principal ones were folios, in which a standard sheet of paper was folded in two to make the pages, quartos, in which the paper was folded into quarters, octavos, in which the paper was folded into eight pieces, and duodecimos, in which the paper was folded into twelve pieces. Thus the length and width of a duodecimo would be one-sixth those of a folio. The type of book would influence its size. Popular books, especially novels, tended to come in smaller sizes, while serious, scholarly ones were usually larger. Thus the size of Charles Hayter’s books helps spur the Musgroves’ worries about excessive studying. They might be naturally inclined to such worries, not seeming bookish at all themselves.

What's the reference for this note specifically? "and having been found on the occasion by Mr. Musgrove with some large books before him, Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove were sure all could not be right, and talked, with grave faces, of his studying himself to death." Clearly the natural place of this note is on "duodecimo" in chapter I, but by this strategy Shepard not only manages to make two notes out of where there should be only one, but inserts notes visually in chapters in such a way as to make it appear like he has lots and lots of substantial, erudite explanations to make all the time. This strategy he repeats a lot through the text.

It's these habits of trickery, of padding and puffing up that I find intellectually dishonest, and rather inexcusable in a man who is an academic and must know better. I have also accused him of sloppiness. Perhaps I could have been more charitable and say that Shepard is a Historian by profession, and the things that touch on the literary and the philosophical, his references are much more scarce and lacking, not particularly well researched (in contrast with his historical notes). I mentioned how despite being relatively similar in tone and aim, the contrast between Shepard and Oxford showed that the Oxford annotator was familiar with literary authors in ways Shepard wasn't. This reflects in notes as well. For example:

Pinny

Shepard:

Charmouth is another coastal town (see note 8, for a description). Up Lyme sits atop the ascent next to Lyme, and offers views of the town and sea. Pinny is a spot a little west of Lyme. (For locations, see map.)

Oxford:

Many readers encountering this description of the scenery of Pinny, just west of Lyme, have detected an echo of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s ‘Kubla Khan’ (composed 1798; published 1816). See lines 12-13: ‘But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted | Down the green hill athwart a cedar n cover. . . .’ The romance of the landscape is the product of a series of landslides, which have carried into Pinny Bay some of the cliff paths on which Austen must have walked during her stay in Lyme.

Marmion and The Lady of the Lake/Giaour and The Bride of Abydos

Shepard:

These are two long narrative poems by Walter Scott. In contrast to the above poets, Scott immediately achieved great popularity. The two poems cited here, his most widely read, were among the best sellers of the age—and in this age, poetry generally outsold novels, at least until Scott’s own novels appeared. Both poems are stories of love and war, set in sixteenth-century Scotland; a critical element of Romanticism was fascination with the past, especially the medieval past, and Scott was central to fostering this sentiment. Jane Austen mentions each of these poems in her letters. These are two narrative poems by Lord Byron, the other highly popular poet of the time. Both are tragic love stories set in the Middle East; fascination with foreign lands, especially ones regarded as highly exotic, was another feature of Romanticism.

Oxford:

The first two titles refer to long narrative poems, romances of medieval times, published by Sir Walter Scott in 1808 and 1810; the third and fourth refer to ‘Turkish tales’ published by rival poet Lord Byron in 1813. The poets’ representations of warrior heroes committing doughty deeds in picturesque settings probably contributed to their wartime popularity. Still, the notes that Byron appended to his poems adopt a more cynical view of their heroes’ sabre-rattling than do the poems themselves, in ways that distinguish their account of heroism from Persuasion’s, idealistic view of its chivalric war hero. Anne and Benwick prove themselves faithful observers of the literary scene when they attempt to adjudicate between Scott and Byron (an attempt they resume on p. 90). Similar efforts at a comparative evaluation of the decade’s two most commercially successful poets are pursued in William Hazlitt’s The Spirit of the Age (1825) and the anonymous A Discourse on the Comparative Merits of Scott and Byron (1824).

Our best moralists

Shepard:

These could refer to a wide array of works, especially from earlier years. The eighteenth century, whose spirit Jane Austen exudes in many respects, was characterized by a general preference for prose and an emphasis on greater rationalism than the Romantic period. Moral essays, frequently supported by observations on life and contemporary mores, were popular throughout the century. Collections of letters, often highly polished, also appeared. Finally, biography developed as a significant genre, and it, like much of the prose of the time, often had a moralizing tone, pointing out lessons and presenting examples of virtuous behavior.

The difficulty in following precepts of patience and resignation had been a popular theme of many writers, especially when discussing the influential philosophy of Stoicism, which counseled rational indifference to the ills of life. Similarly, as in all ages, many who preached virtue did not always live up to their preaching. One of the most influential prose moralists of the eighteenth century, and a favorite author of Jane Austen’s, Samuel Johnson, addresses this point in one of his essays (The Rambler, #14). He writes that “for many reasons a man writes much better than he lives.” But he argues, “Nothing is more unjust, however common, than to charge with hypocrisy him that expresses zeal for those virtues, which he neglects to practice; since he may be sincerely convinced of the advantages of conquering his passions, without having yet obtained the victory.” Rather, he claims that such a man should be commended for attempting to impart to others some of his own, possibly hard-earned, wisdom. From this perspective, Anne’s counsel to Captain Benwick, which does certainly come from her own extensive experience, would represent a valuable and benevolent service to him, whatever her own failings in achieving patience or self-control.

Oxford:

The texts Anne prescribes to Benwick would very probably include works by Samuel Johnson. Throughout the second half of the eighteenth century readers made an almost medicinal use of the essay series The Rambler (first published 1750-2), in which Johnson treats such topics as the dangers of solitude and the necessity of resignation in the face of loss. Johnson’s biographer James Boswell claimed of The Rambler that ‘In no writings whatever can be found . . . more that can brace and invigorate every manly and noble sentiment’ ( Life ofJohnson, ed. R. W. Chapman (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983), 154).

Here I would note that the much longer two-notes reference of Shepard sits between vague and repetitive, and that in my opinion both sin by omission of Shaftesbury (Anthony Ashley Cooper).

Dark blue seas

Shepard:

Byron’s The Corsair, a work Jane Austen mentions reading in a letter (March 5, 1814), begins with the lines, “O’er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, / Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free.”

Oxford:

Benwick and Anne perhaps recall the second canto of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1812). Its description of the hero’s voyage from Greece and of the ‘little warlike world within’ (ii. 154) he enters when he boards the ship certainly glamorizes nautical life: ‘He that has sail’d upon the dark blue sea, | Has view’d at times, I ween, a full fair sight’ (ii. 145-6). They may also be remembering the lines that open The Corsair (1814), a description of the freedom that the poem’s pirates enjoy as outlaws: ‘O’er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, | Our thoughts as boundless and our souls as free’. In a letter of 1814 Austen sounds jaded about the Byronic heroes, such as Harold and Conrad the Corsair, who enthuse Captain Benwick: ‘I have read the Corsair, mended my petticoat, & have nothing else to do’ ( Letters , 257).

'eleven with its silver sounds’

Shepard:

The origin of this phrase, which seems, based on the quotation marks, to be from a particular text, has never been identified for certain. One commentator, Patricia Meyer Spacks, suggests the phrase may allude to a line in The Rape of the Lock by Alexander Pope, a poet Jane Austen certainly knew well: “And the pressed watch returned a silver sound.” The phrase does not represent a literal description of the operation of the clock, for the component parts of a clock were made of other metals than silver, usually brass or steel. Clocks were standard parts of a home, designed for elegant appearance as well as utility.

Oxford:

The literary allusion has not been traced. In 1921 Herbert Grierson conjectured that Austen was here misremembering the description of the coquette’s morning rituals that Alexander Pope gives in The Rape of the Lock (1712): ‘Thrice rung the Bell, the Slipper knock’d the Ground, | And the press’d Watch return’d a silver Sound’ (i. 17-18).

Note how here Shepard is crediting Meyer Spacks, but does not reference where (the Norton Critical Edition), whereas the Oxford annotation traces the conjecture to what appears to be its original proponent.

The pen has been in their hands

Shepard:

At this time there had been moves to improve the quality of women’s education, but it still was inferior to men’s, especially at the higher levels—no universities admitted women. As for books, while women had come to constitute a substantial portion of those who wrote novels, men dominated virtually all other fields of literary endeavor.

Oxford:

even as she has Anne object to examples from books, Austen echoes the precedents set by figures in the literary tradition who have previously commented on men’s monopoly of the written word. Anne sounds like the Wife of Bath in Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales , who is exasperated by male clerics’ representations of women, and, closer to Austen’s time, like Richard Steele’s character Arietta, who recounts the story of Inkle, the mercenary Englishman, and Yarico, the native woman of Jamaica whom Inkle betrays, so as to counter her male visitor’s trite examples of female inconstancy. Arietta observes, ‘You Men are Writers, and can represent us Women as Unbecoming as you please in your Works, while we are unable to return the Injury’ (.Spectator, 11 (13 Mar. 17 n)).

I'm not saying that necessarily Shepard's notes should be absolutely excellent in every single way and aspect in order for it to be a serviceable/good annotated edition; but all the things I have mentioned above make them appear to me thoroughly undeserving of being considered excellent, above the rest, or definitive.

[moutainrusing]

dandelion

885 words, no warnings, @dorlenemicroficprompts

When Marlene was a kid, she’d play the Don’t Step on the Cracks game, often with her brothers, but sometimes when she was alone. When she was alone, she made her own rule. If there was a dandelion growing between the cracks of the pavement, she was allowed to step on that. Like a special stepping stone made just for her. No matter the conditions it faced (Marlene’s feet stomping all over it) the dandelion would still spring up, bright and yellow, a vicious weed which wasn’t actually that vicious. It was… pretty.

Now Marlene was an adult, and she still played the game. Only by herself now, to avoid the scathing judgement of people thinking she was too immature to be hopping around cracks like some rabbit on crack. But because she was by herself, she was allowed to implement her own rule, stepping on the cracks through which dandelions sprouted. She could be a dandelion. Determined and undeterred, constant and alive, there for someone. Always there. Dandelions were pretty.

After a few minutes of hopping around cracks like some rabbit on crack, Marlene fixed her suit, and exited the deserted yard hidden behind large crates and old, no longer used vehicles, making her way to the office for nine a.m. sharp. She worked in marketing and design, promoting the company’s newest technology with charts, illustrations and logos. It was fun, creating images and adverts for the latest model of car, or engines which used less fuel but still travelled the same distance as before, or ethical robots able to assist drivers who would struggle in certain scenarios.

Engineers brought ideas to life, and Marlene helped the world see them. Except… Marlene wanted to make her own invention. Something creative and original and helpful, but that wasn’t her job. All Marlene made were adverts. Designing was fun, but she wanted to design something bigger. So when she sat down at her desk and got to work clicking and editing a poster for a new line of hydrogen fuel cells, she felt extremely empty, in need of something more. If she wanted to be that something more, she would need to put in the effort and cultivate her ideas, find a place in which they could help others.

She had no ideas.

Frowning at her screen, Marlene continued her job, one which only required making things look pretty, without actually inventing anything useful. Dandelions were pretty and useful.

- - -

Marlene was still frowning at ten a.m., when people began frequenting the coffee machine a couple metres away from her desk. Ordinarily, she would smile and greet them, except she wasn’t in the mood to care. (Or smile or exist or anything.)

From the corner of her eye, she spied Dorcas Meadowes (the beautiful engineer with the hottest ass and the most incredible brains whose ideas could make Marlene’s mouth water for days) grab her morning coffee cup, and usually Marlene would grin at her in awe-struck fascination while Dorcas shyly explained her most recent work, except Marlene did not want to hear about that. Well, she did. She always did. But she wasn’t sure if she could smile at Dorcas the way Dorcas deserved to be smiled at when she was feeling this low, so Marlene averted her gaze and pretended to be busy.

Somehow she felt even worse than she did before.

- - -

At the end of the day, Marlene turned off her monitor, cleared her desk and got up, frown still on her face. The frown was still there when she walked down the aisles, still there when she got into the lift, still there when she got out of the lift, still there when she made her way for the exit… gone when she exited.

Because Dorcas was standing there holding out a bunch of dandelions, and Marlene’s frown immediately transformed into confusion. And then a hesitant smile which mirrored Dorcas’s, as Dorcas held the bouquet out further and shrugged bashfully, “Uh, thought you might like some?”

Marlene stared at her. Slowly, she accepted them, and with a smirk she asked, “So, how’d you know I like dandelions?” The underlying question was, have you been stalking me?

Dorcas raised an eyebrow, undeterred by Marlene’s cockiness. “Because you are incredibly immature. Now, d’you wanna play the Don’t Step on the Cracks game with me? I think it’ll cheer you up from whatever,” she waved a hand at Marlene’s face, “depressive spiral you’ve frowned yourself into.”

Marlene gaped at her, and Dorcas shot her a mischievous smile over her shoulder before ambling off to Marlene’s secret deserted yard. Dorcas had so been stalking her.

- - -

“Huh,” Dorcas commented, balancing on a dandelion with the tip of her shoe. “This is kinda fun.”

Marlene scoffed in both amusement and derision, because this was very childish. But adults needed to be children sometimes. Sometimes, it was better to relax and play amongst weeds rather than constantly feeling the pressure of being useful.

Sometimes ideas come to you better that way. Marlene looked between the dandelion and Dorcas. She didn’t need to fix the cracks. She didn’t need to design something breath-taking and mind-boggling to seal them up.

She looked at the dandelion.

“I have an idea.”

Dorcas grinned at her in awe-struck fascination while Marlene shyly explained.

[6leggedhorse]

The 9 Lokean Virtues

I mean, every religion has some form of virtues, morals, ethics, or even rules to standby, respect and follow right? We so does paganism, and when you look at them all, they’re all in a way similar to each other. Today We’ll be diving into the 9 Lokean Virtues, and how you can implement them into your daily life cause boy I could be doing better to. Please get comfy, grab your favorite drink and snack and grab your pet and lets get into it.

Located in Pagan Portals-Loki, he lists the 9 virtues towards the back of the book. So here they are as listed in order from the book

Truth: Be real. Be true to yourself and allow others to follow their own truth.

Humor: Learn to find the humor in things, especially in yourself.

Humility: If you need to tie your balls to a goat to accomplish your goals, suck it up buttercup.

Cunning: Try to think outside the box. Don’t make a mess so big that you can’t find your way out of it.

Transformation: Don’t be afraid of change, because that’s how we grow. Don’t be afraid of self-examination and listen to constructive criticism.

Creativity: Creat awesome stuff. Try new things out. If you don’t like it blow it up and try again.

Accountability: You are the only one in control of your destiny, your own life, your own actions

Empathy: Try to see things from more than one perspective. Shape-shift into someone else’s shoes before you pass judgement.

Experimentation: A mistake is only a mistake if you do it twice. Until then, everything is an experiment.

REFERENCE: The 9 Lokean Virtues: Pagan Portals-Loki: Trickster and Transformer by Dagulf Loptson pg. 48 (eBook page)

Implementation

So now that we know about these virtues, how can we implement them into our lives?

Truth: We can start be learning that we can’t control everything. Ever heard of the phrase you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink? This means that you can lead, guide your friend, significant other, parent, sibling, co worker etc to the truth, but they need to open up to the truth and learn to except it on their own time and terms. We also need to learn how to accept the truth within ourselves; will it hurt? Probably, but you will hurt even more if you allow yourself to be trapped within ignorance’s bliss and the lies you refuse to accept. You can start to accept the truth, whatever it may be to you is by perhaps journaling the thoughts down or doing one of those shadow work journals you see blowing up on tiktok or meditate or you can even seek out mental health resources to get another perspective if you can afford it or have the resources readily available.

Humor: Laughter is the best medicine! Ever since I went through the worst few weeks of my life, I’ve grown attached to Cold Ones, with Anything4views and Maxmoefoe. The editing and the humor has kept me sane through the tears and anxiety episodes as their goofiness and the money they spend on Fiverr is absolute gold. Some people may not like Cold Ones and thats okay. Other things that can help make you laugh are memes and or recalling a funny story/memory or just going out with your friends, family, s/o or pet and make funny and good memories.

Humility: This is a tough one even for me as I like to take the easy way out from the difficult challenges. I currently work at a job with the most incompetent people as bosses; I wish I was joking. But I’m only there until May of next year and I can kiss that. Place good bye. For good. I’ve looked for other jobs, but alas I need something that ties into my major and unfortunately the shitshow I’m currently employed at fights right into that space. Sometimes we do need to tie our balls to that goat; it may suck, but hey, the goal is to be able to negotiate a higher rate of pay to save up for a house. This musst be done no matter how much I hate it. But don’t do this. Until it destroys your mental health, so be sure to take care of yourself.

Cunning: I have to do this w/ my clients and work. Sometimes clients can be difficult to work with especially if they’re minors. If I need them to do their chores, I if they don’t want to do it, I ask them to double check and see if their chore is truly complete. They go on ahead and do it and usually they’ll find something to tackle. To be cunning is to utilize critical thinking and problem solving skills in unique ways! Perhaps take an alternate route, instead of replacing that broken vase, find a way to repair it and incorporate art.

Transformation: The tower moment if you will, this one hurt me the most a few times, especially when it came down to my mental health. This one was a big vibe check, but I managed to get through it and ended up loving the changes that occurred. For this, I suggest having a really strong support system, and having healthy coping skills as some of the transformation periods can be painful, and trust me, they will hurt. Or not, it all depends on the person and their situation. For me and my anxiety, if I don’t know what the process is, i freak out and get really scared and anxious. So I try to research the topic depending on what it is like a medical procedure or getting my bloodwork done. That way if I know what to expect, I have no reason to worry about it. However this doesn’t always work for other people. You can learn to embrace the transformation by utilizing positive coping skills, getting enough rest, self care, and brain dumping into a jorunal. Or sketch book, or even watching something inspirational or someone going through the same thing and how they made it through their situation.

Creativity: Already in the name and kinda like cunning, utilize creativity. Nurture it, make it your own; it doesn’t have to be aesthetically pleasing or expensive. As long as you like whatever it is you’re doing. Without hurting people or animals or yourself of course. Whatever you’re into, please make it your own. With our hurting animals, people or yourself.

Accountability: This one also hurts but it’s mandatory in my opinion to learn to handle criticism and learn to own up to your mistakes. If you cut someone in line and you’re at fault, accept it. Don’t try to cover it up or run from it, i’ve seen people explain their crap away without thinking about accepting their role in things. The more you run from your mistakes, it will send you down a path of cowardice. You can learn this skill by perhaps rehearsing in a mirror or role playing, help yourself ease into it!

Empathy: This one can be draining, as some people thrive on this sort of attention. When practicing empathy, you really want to be protective of. Your boundaries and energy as there are people, as mentioned, live on this. Remember, it’s free to be kind to others, it’s expensive to be mean to others. Just remember to set boundaries!

Experimentation: Don’t be afraid to fail and try again. Keep trying, even if you need youtube tutorials, tutoring, or just an extra brain and set of hands. Don’t be afraid to keep trying until you get it right and it meets your standards. Until then don’t give up and don’t let anyone tear you down and stop you from success. Don’t be afraid to block people or cut people off if they say otherwise. It’s okay to experiment with things, sexuality, hobbies or whatever you want to try!

Epilogue

Writing this in a lecture was not in this evening’s plans but here I am. The ADHD is ADHDing tonight! Anyways, I hope you guys got some sort of positive vibes or ideas on how to implement the virtues. Or at the very least the strength to do or say something, no matter how anxious or scared you are. I’ll see y’all this Wednesday! Have a good day/afternoon/evening!

[for-the-sake-of-color]

AAYYEE the 218th's Urban Crisis Response's very own Crisis Company as a revamped Draw the Squad!

after a year and a half worth of drawing practice, I like to think I've come a long ways, though my squad themselves have changed very little

Though if you're new here, perhaps some introductions are in order? Below the Cut

Captain Jet - Leader of the 218th's Crisis Company and Heartbeat of the Family

Captain Jet, formerly known as Corporal Jettison before he lost nearly the entirety of his Company during the first battle of Geonosis, only gained his rank due to the combination of a field promotion and a paper pusher rushing to get the 218th put back together with what forces they could get their hands on after their devastating first deployment, without vetting his Shiny New Promotion through the proper channels. Nevertheless, Captain Jet is dedicated to his soldiers, and to being the Kindest man he can be, not wanting any to suffer the burden of loss and shame he felt as everyone he ever grew up with died in the first week of the war.

Lieutenant Margo - Second in Command of Crisis Company and one of the Finest Technician's money can Make

The first Addition to the newly reformed Crisis Company, Margo left behind her own squad command to be the second to her Captain, Jet. Trusting in his judgement, Margo would follow him to hell and back, though for the first half of the war she largely follows him to a glorified guard posting for the republics embassy and shipping warehouses on Brentaal. She's a fine Leader and an even better Tech, though her specialties lay much closer to Mechanics than to Code-breaking. The only thing that tops her technical skills is her love of having a Fun Time. Body and Mind of a Super Soldier, personality of 'if a frat-boy was a girl'

Specialist Nihlus Brek - Ancient Sith Archivist and a loving Guardian of his squad with a Sadistic streak

After being shown selfless kindness by the Captains personal squad after the loss of his clan and his rough awakening from a forced stasis, with the 'permission' of the Jedi Council, Sith Lord Nihlus Brek now serves in the GAR under the command of Captain Jet, the only man who's orders he follows without hesitation or question, killing or healing as needed for the man he now calls 'Alor and Brother. Though it is true he holds love for his squad, the real secret of his unwavering loyalty is the Blood Oath he swore to Captain Jet, his orders now bound by sith alchemy, Nihlus has given his leader unwavering control over both their destinies.

Sergeant Cynic - Heavy Weapons Expert and Artist with an Attitude

Though an Urban Crisis Response unit doesn't particularly need a soldier who's second greatest passion in life is blowing things up with his rocket launcher, Cynic earn his place on the squad through the power of nepotism. That is, Margo's one condition for leaving her previous squad behind with little complaint, was that she got to bring her favorite brother with. Although his name may suggest otherwise, this pessimist (though he considers himself a 'realist') has a love for all things pretty and colorful, and quite the talent for copying it down in his small sketchbook, always making room for his small assortment of watercolors in his combat kit.

Corporal Lake - Spotter of the Squads Sharpshooter duo and self proclaimed Ethics Committee

Lake is likely the only one of the Captains squad that, once you get to know them, could be described as the republics ideal of a Good Soldier. That is, Lake is one of the few who spares even a second or third thought for the success of the mission and collateral casualties over the lives of his fellow squad mates. He is probably the only one who could say he would not give a thousand lives just to spare those he cares for. Nevertheless, although he has his own personal misgivings over the result of some of their missions, Lake is grateful for his life, for his family, and for the many chances he is given to fight another day. And, as always, his Captains word is Law.

Corporal Torch - Deadeye of the Squads Sharpshooter Duo and resident Troublemaker

"We're here for a fun time, not a long time!" Are common words for Torch to say before getting his ass beat for replacing Cynics fancy face lotion with space Nair or being put on 'Fresher duty for his ballsey yet comedic insubordination. Captain Jet often says the only thing that stops Torch from being demoted to maintenance duty altogether is his skill with a rifle, hitting targets your typical human would have needed the force to even perceive. Though in truth, Jet would not trade Torch's levity and loyalty for the galaxy itself. Torch and Lake are mirrors of one another, by choice, as it brings them great joy to be mistaken for one another by not only natural born humans, but also unfamiliar clones. As some of the last living soldiers from their original bloc of trained sharpshooting specialists, they refuse to be parted from one another, unable to bear the thought of losing the last of their batch.

Field Medic Heron - Resident Healer with a Big Secret

Heron tired of front line Medicine fairly quickly, as his zest for death did not hold up to losing his brothers one by one, upon joining the Urban Crisis Response Specialists of the 218th, his steadfast work and easy bedside manner landed him his place in the Captains squad rather easily, and he took rather well to glorified guard duty. That is, until the fateful day where an assassin droid hidden among their cargo took his leg, though in a feat of the butterfly effect, directly led to the squad meeting their Sith. His secret? On shore leave, Heron likes to kill people. In order to stay in line with both his own ideas of morality and his Captains idea's of ethics, not that Jet hears of his activities from the medic directly, he dresses in plainclothes and limps around, waiting for some unfortunate mugger to make their move. Heron craves the feeling of holding someone on the brink of life, having power over their fate, and then denying them the salvation they seek. And maybe sometimes he takes a bite or two, but that's his business.

Specialist Sprig - Explosive Ordinance Disposal Technician and Company Spymaster

Specialist Sprig, formerly of the 398th Ordinance Corps, got his name as a result of a growth tube malfunction in his infancy, leaving him 2 inches shorter than your average trooper. Despite this 'defect' as the Kaminoans would refer to it, Sprig would rank among the top of his batch with his skills in bomb diffusal, having a deft touch and a keen eye for detail. In a cruel and ironic twist of fate, Sprig's greatest fear is dying in an explosion, vaporization, desintigration, you name it. Reassignment to the 218th and his posting of glorified guard duty was a dream come true. Proton bombs vs backyard terrorists? Sprig knows exactly which he would take in an average day. With his keen eyes, sharp ears, and strong memory, Sprig also excels at information collection. His shorter stature and friendly demeanor is often very encouraging for those who have a burden they'd like to share, though one has to keep in mind, he has the ear of the Captain one short comm call away.

[rei-ismyname]

Mr Sinister should be experiencing profound existential despair

*Yes, I'm aware that he's not really capable of those kinds of feelings, but even from a character perspective the guy has lost his reason for existing. Huge spoilers for the entire Krakoan age, plus Heir of Apocalypse #1-3. We're talking about this guy.

One of the revelations of Krakoa was that Mr Sinister is not Nathaniel Essex, the 19th century Victorian eugenicist and scientist (now space god trapped experiencing the moment of death for eternity.) He's a clone *created* by Essex to achieve Domionhood (the highest form of non-linear gestalt machine entity - traditionally formed by joining singularities of machine intelligence together with so much processing power they are functionally Gods) through the study and utilisation of mutant power.

What a paragraph!

Here he is in 1924, threatening Destiny after killing Sinister.

He thought he was seeking Dominion for himself, not knowing he was a clone or that when he achieved Dominion his progress would be harvested by Essex. Essex created 3 other clones/variations for the same purpose but through different means -

Dr Stasis through post/humanity and Orbis Stellaris through the 'cosmic powers' (dude took over the Progenitor 's Worldfarm - a staggeringly impressive achievement for a 19th century clone from Earth)

These two dickwads

Finally, Mother Righteous through Magic (physically a clone of Essex's dead wife Rebecca, but just as much of a callous existential colonialist and monster as any Essex spawn.)

There she is, having a tanty after Enigma stole her Dominion success.

Each was created without knowledge of the other, and had mental blocks in place to prevent them learning about it. They ALL succeeded in various timelines and their efforts were harvested by the real Nathaniel Essex - Enigma, leaving the clones with nothing. Less than nothing. Alive but very dejected.

Making a huge unforced error

Instead of enjoying his godhood he chose to fight the X-Men and thanks to Jeanix, Xavier and Moira he's now a smear across infinity - defeated and broken but trapped at the moment of death forever.

Get Phoenix'd idiot!

Mr Sinister knows all of this, he even participated in the fight. Dr Stasis and Mother Righteous are dead, though Orbis Stellaris is still out there. His brain was only able to comprehend this stuff properly very recently. Even when working against Enigma there were still blocks in place.

Any one of these truth bombs would mess his head up, but all of them at once should ruin him. He doesn't have a sense of ethics but he does need purpose. Consider how bummed he was when the Progenitor ignored him on Judgement Day. He's not a real boy like other clones are.

- He's a clone with all sorts of fake memories

- Created with the compulsion to fulfill someone else's endgame

- Everything he's done for the last 200 years has been in service of Enigma's plan. Even the stuff that makes no sense. Especially the stuff that makes no sense.

- He has no other reason for being.

- Enigma smote him at least once.

- Enigma is dead, like super dead.

- Everyone else knows this as well

What the hell does he do now?

*Sigh*, he'll probably just be treated as Nathaniel Essex again, given Brevoort 's transparent policy of overwriting Krakoan lore. He could just clone himself with a new purpose/hard reboot as we've seen him do in Immortal X-Men, but how would he even decide? Also, he's the mutant devil - anyone who knows about him should want him dead, including some very powerful people. Two of the things I found insulting about Heir of Apocalypse was Exodus being next to Sinister and not eviscerating him AND Mr Sinister just acting like his old self as if nothing had changed. At the very least it should be explained - it's really not that hard either.

Mr Sinister is a system not a person, so he can make whatever changes he wants. It's not a very compelling villain if we don't know his motives though, and he's been there before.

Once that door is opened you can't ignore it. It'd be a shame to throw away the development he received, while ignoring potential for interesting new stories.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

Liam died alone in a hotel room trying to drown out the all the pain he carried in his heart and soul, thinking the world and his fans hated him. He never got the chance to heal, make amends and find his peace. It all feels so unresolved and unfair and I hate how this all unfolded I hate it so much.

Oh anon - I'm sending you a lot of love. There's a lot to work through here and I do encourage you to feel what you feel. The lack of resolution is really hard and it will take time.

I agree with you that Liam lost the chance to heal and make his peace. There's something so heartbreaking about knowing that he might have survived this night. He would still be in a lot of distress, but living brings chances with it.

I don't know if it helps or not, but we don't know what he thought. He may have thought fans and the world hated him - he may not have been thinking about that and been thinking about much more personal that had nothing to do with fans or the world. It can be useful to recognise when we're telling a story - and understanding that the story we're telling isn't necessarily true.

*******

Like with the Gemma anon I just got - I am going to respond to some of what you say that I disagree with. I don't think that's incompatible with saying that you allowing space for your feelings is important. One of the risks of writing things down and sharing them - is that people will have a range of views.

I have really struggled with the way that fandom talks about amends, and I couldn't publish this without talking a little bit about why I've struggled with what other people are saying. I invite people not to read any further if that sounds like a stressful topic for them.

The way fandom talks about amends doesn't connect with the way I think about it - and the way I have thought about it when responding to abusive men. Fandom discussion has made 'amends' seem much more fixed - much more general - much more thingified than I understand them.

I would only ever talk about amends in a context where someone who had done harm had started towards accepting that harm and stopping. In my experience, talking about amends in any other context - misses the importance of those two steps and often acts on pressure for people (usually the person harmed) to ignore the fact that someone is still actively hurting people and actively in denial.

I think fandom discussion of amends has done that. I don't agree that Liam never got the chance to make amends. He chased Maya with an axe four years ago - he had a chance every day. One of Liam's last acts was to not pay sex workers.

If he'd lived he'd have had many more chances - and we don't know if he'd have ever taken them. And I think it's important that any attempt to discuss the interaction of his death and his abuse acknowledge all of that.

Ultimately - I don't think fandom discussion of amends adds anything to an understanding of what happened with Liam, what was lost with his death, or of abuse.

Before he died - I got an anon who was asking if they'd ever be able to be a fan again. I talked a lot about various things, but I ended with the idea that it was easier to grapple with this as a personal question than an ethical one:

I could be wrong, but I think the fundamental question here is about you and not Liam. I think your actual question is 'I still feel a lot about Liam and I’d like to be able to be a fan at his at the moment - but I don’t feel comfortable.’ If you accept that fandom is something that you do for your pleasure - then I think it becomes easier to answer this question. You can trust yourself to make this judgement.

I recognise now that I was talking about myself as well. When it comes to redemption - I think it's usually a lot more honest to talk about what we lost, rather than risk placing ourselves in the idea of a process that never happened and would have been none of our business.

So I'll end by saying - that I had so much affection for Liam and I would have loved to see signs that he was healing and recovering - and it's so sad that I never will.

[daydreamingyuta]

127 as My Favorite Movie Characters

Taeyong ~ Edward Scissorhands

Both such sweet boys with the sweetest hearts 🥹

Also both make me sob uncontrollably all the time

Can come off as a little shy at first

Both have struggled with isolation and loneliness

Very accepting of others and has no judgement in their hearts.

Has pure intentions but people have a tendency to misunderstand them

Taeil ~ Calcifer

Both have their sassy moments

Can be playful when they want to be

Is also mysterious in a way that you can't tell what they are really thinking all the time

Literally so funny

Johnny ~ Iron-man

Both carry themselves with confidence (as they should because they know their worth!!)

Not afraid to be a little cocky when they want to be

Charismatic in a way that you can't help but love them

Literally anything they put their minds to, they can do

Yuta ~ Howl Pendragon

Both very loyal to the ones they love

Shows kindness and acceptance to everyone

Can be rebellious to systems or people that are doing wrong 

Flamboyant and very much have their own styles

Very protective and possessive over people they love

Doyoung ~ Sophie Hatter

Very responsible and has a strong sense of duty and a hard work ethic

Determined

Both are loyal to the ones they love

Shows kindness to everyone and has the purest hearts

Jaehyun ~ Sully

Looks intimidating at first but has such a gentle and loving heart

Protective over the one's they love

Both have a very playful side that comes out every now and then

Open-minded!

Jungwoo ~ Wall-E

Loyal

Both are so hardworking and dedicated to what they do

Very curious and always willing to discover (or learn) new things

Mark ~ Spider-Man

Both are very grounded and humble, not always realizing how incredible they are

Empathetic to others and their problems and wants to solve people’s problems

Sees the good in the word and wants to make it a better place

Resilient and adaptable to anything

Haechan ~ Paddington

Loyal

Both are protective over the ones they love

Good at adapting to new situations and overcoming hardships

They don’t dwell on the past

Willing to try new things

Has such a kind heart

Is a literal bear

[ophiocordyceps]

hey gang it's time for my attempt at articulating my thoughts about V2 again. and its long so it's going under a readmore

In my mind, V2 is a machine that struggles heavily with making sense of its place in the world. The very core of its model line is based in war, yet it was created after that very thing became irrelevant. Its creators wanted to get their money's worth out of the V-series, and with V1 being effectively obsolete, they started work on V2 with little more intent than simply to keep the model relevant.

And then that failed.

The trick was that it would be touted as a 'peacekeeper,' though they tried marketing it more towards security firms and law enforcement agencies with no luck. In early training and testing it came back with a lot of judgement errors or outright malfunctioned, running off reused programming that hadn't had time to learn and develop just yet. As time went on it observed, it learned, it came closer to human than V1 ever had, and... that sort of freaked the team working on the project out a bit. V2 had picked up the peacekeeper façade readily while the higher ups started having to debate ethics, and still no one really cared about these prototypes anymore.

It really internalized the idea of bringing peace, or at least doing something that didn't add more pain to a world that's seen so much of it already, though it resented the fact that most of the project team didn't really try to think of it as a person. It nearly bankrupt whatever company or agency or whatever that produced it after they finally gave up and reached out to humanitarian organizations.

And so the first real role it found itself in was in various recovery jobs. Search and rescue, casualty scouting, body recovery, things of that nature. And it loved the fact that it could help, make itself useful, it grew fascinated with humanity and in turn grew more human-like itself, now that it interacted with them so much. Eventually it would modify itself in order to allow a greater range of expression in a way that would be understandable to humans. But even then... it wasn't really a part of human society. It was a tool, and its immersion into humanity was only surface deep, though it wouldn't figure this out in time. Sometimes people would be wary, they would mistrust it, especially those with knowledge of its predecessor. Kind of the same as seeing one of those Boston Dynamics dogs doing something innocent enough but knowing what they're being made for.

And then...well. something happened. Hell broke loose, or the machines started an uprising, or maybe the actual rapture happened, who knows. Either way, mankind eventually died, and that stripped V2 of not only its purpose, but a massive portion of what had become its identity. Now the machines were driven to fighting each other for survival, and violent conflict had slowly but surely been divorced from V2's perception of itself; it wasn't really afraid of or worried about harming other machines, that fear was mainly focused on humans and later husks, but it had forged itself so far away from that original war machine mold that this new state of affairs had become basically irreconcilable with itself. It hated that it had to do this, that it and others like it could do nothing more than fight to the death to keep on living as fuel became scarce. But it did have a new purpose to replace the one that it lost: surviving. If it had to be a war machine it could be, and it could be efficient about it, even if it didn't particularly enjoy it, even if it felt wrong.

Something was still missing though, and it spent a long time simply existing aimlessly outside of the scope of staying alive, even as it was driven down into Hell. Or possibly it was already there, being sent down in the aftermath of the Hell expeditions. Either way, the result is the same. In hell it grew furthermore aimless and lonely, survival was a monotonous task it had to repeat constantly. It stayed in Limbo because it's almost familiar, and it misses what used to be.

And then V1 one day shows up to Limbo. Its predecessor it had never met. It would be curious of course, but V1 has only ever known combat, it doesn't have the same capacity for irrelevant curiosity, nor the desire to stop what it's doing, so they inevitably fight. They fight, V1 wins, V2 loses its arm to its predecessor and is forced to retreat, and it keeps thinking about this. It grows resentful of it, replaying the battle to learn more and more about V1's tactics in order to get back at it. Suddenly it has a brand new purpose: killing or otherwise defeating V1.

Getting revenge.

Revenge is what drives it deeper through the layers, it constructs the whiplash on its own from scavenged parts, and with its head start it still finds time to be curious; it never meets any of them but it learns of Gabriel, of Minos and Sisyphus. It learns things V1 wouldn't care nearly as much about as it goes deeper into Hell, because despite the reality of everything going on around it, it still wants nothing more than to stop and learn, to be useful in some way, and in its mind, archiving information counts as useful.

And eventually that brings it to Greed.

By now it has poured over its memory of it and V1's initial fight innumerable times, resentment growing into hatred, it couldn't fucking stand that thing. It did not see itself as superior—if anything it felt somewhat inferior to its predecessor, a half-baked attempt at convincing the public to invest in the model line that never panned out, forced to claw its way out into the world and forge a sense of self and belonging.

And then of course, V1 catches up again, they fight, V2 tries to escape again and V1 doesn't let it get away.

V2 comes crashing down from the pyramid, and purpose no longer matters to it after that.

Had it lived longer, had it successfully escaped V1's all-consuming violence, it might've realized how deeply its resentment was settled within it, it might've realized why, that V1 had cast a shadow on its existence from the very beginning, down to influencing its very creation. It would've despised it knowing that. It would never be V1, it never wanted to be, and now it would never have the chance.

Had it lived longer, it would have also realized how superficial its connection to humanity had really been and how hollow that original peacekeeper label truly was.

V2 dies an unsatisfactory death under the scorching sun of Greed, a peaceful entity driven to violence and a machine with no good reason to exist.

[lipstickchainsaw]

Sanctuaries and Sacred Places

As I went through the episodes of Arcane's season 2, act 2, I noticed a particular theme in each of those episodes. Characters creating their own little pocket worlds where they get to make the rules and pretend the outside world doesn't exist.

I'll be taking a look at the Black Rose, Viktor and Jinx (and touching on Vi by contrast), and how each of them interact with this particular theme, what their respective pocket worlds mean to them, and how they exist within the wider reality.

Because these characters are also closely related to the wider religious themes this season, I thought calling those pocket worlds 'Sanctuaries and Sacred Places' was fitting, and I will be touching on this theme here and there as well.

The Black Rose

Let's start with the most obvious. The Black Rose has what most of us would recognise as a literal pocket world, one that seems to exist entirely separate from reality, where they control not only the entrance and exit, but are also fully capable of shaping it to their will as suits their purposes. They use this absolute power over their world to psychologically torture their captives in order to transform them, alternating between insidious manipulation and harsh, direct pain and stress.

Their separation from reality, then, marks a separation from judgement, from accountability, from conventional morality, because if they were doing this sort of thing anywhere people could reach, they would surely be stopped. They consider themselves to be a higher power, and this naturally should place them beyond the reach of mortals and their petty ethical hang-ups.

And it is their power that allows the pocket world to persist; they're not exactly afraid to drag other people into it, and a lot of subtlety goes out the window once they've ensnared someone. They rely on their absolute control over the place to keep it alive.

Like the others I will be discussing in a moment, it is also a transitory space, a place of death and rebirth. We see this in Kino, a dead man, being used as a puppet to lower Mel's defenses, and even then he pretends his identity has been eroded away, much as the space they're in tarnishes and dishevels many of the aspects of herself Mel values, presumably in order to reshape her into something more suited to their needs.

But this is a transformation and rebirth for others, rather than for the Black Rose themselves (although they also take on a ton of different identities when Mel smashes Kino's face into the wall, so this 'different selves at war with one another' bit that a lot of characters deal with this season is almost being parodied by them here), and, even more, it is forced upon them.

They're a higher power, after all, they get to do that.

The problem with that absolute confidence that you're in control enough you can drag anyone and anything into your pocket world, however, is that one day you're going to be wrong, and drag in someone protected by a higher power themselves. Once said hypothetical individual manages to call on that protection, a tether of which exists even where you wouldn't want it to, your illusion of complete power over them shatters, your process of shaping them into what you wanted them to be aborted, as they are reborn prematurely.

And you're going to have to deal with that.

Viktor

Viktor's pocket world manages to exist within reality by virtue of it having arisen in a place nobody would bother to look: among the poor and homeless. It's in a place where nobody but the needy and desperate would even think to go, and so he gets to exist separate from all the powers fighting one another out there.

His separation from the wider world, then, marks a separation from its conflicts and inequities, the larger structural and systemic issues that plague the lives of so many. Whether you're Huck or Salo, you leave your place in those structures, in the wider society, behind at the door, much as everyone is meant to leave behind their capacity for violence.

In this, Viktor is asking people to leave behind aspects of their own identity in order to enter his sanctuary. In the process, he already starts people's transformation, before he actually lays his hands on them to facilitate their rebirth.

This buy-in from the people he is transforming allows the place to persist, and the fact that it is only those looking for transformation that even find him allows him to fly under the radar of those with the power to wipe him off the map, but what gives this sanctuary its true strength is that it grew with him.

As he grew within his devotion, so did the community he helped, and his pocket world grew to match it, until it can even enforce some of its rules on the world right outside its doors.

His sanctuary is, naturally, primarily a place of rebirth for others, offering them new identities from their shattered selves (with some of the rougher edges left behind), but he has transformed himself as well, with his work being done by both Viktor and Sky.

The problem with this, of course, is that Viktor is the one powering his world entirely on his own. He is casting his miracles from his own life force, with each rebirth her creates decreasing how long this sanctuary will be able to exist, and the fact that he exists in service to others leaves him without a way to recharge his own battery. Transcendent though his miracles might be, he is fundamentally stuck in the same place he was: this sanctuary is as temporary as his life was before.

It's tough to talk about this without specifying whether I'm talking about Viktor-the-whole, or Viktor-as-aspect-of-the-whole, but this is part of Viktor's embrace of mysticism, of what he calls 'the Paradox of Knowledge' that marks him as a true prophet and herald of his own higher power.

And it's what breaks the bubble of his pocket world, his sanctuary, as well.

This bubble is a little permeable. It can handle Singed and Rictus getting in, and Jinx getting her weapon back to fight them off. The rules Viktor's established are malleable enough to accommodate this intrusion and immune response without popping immediately.

It's only when someone who challenges the very concept of the rebirth he is cultivating, driven by his own higher power, that it fully pops the bubble, removes the protections he was extending to the people inside, and allows Noxus' violence to ravage the place.

Jinx

Unlike with the previous two examples, Jinx' pocket world is a secluded space by virtue of her only allowing a select few influences to even know about it. This is a place for her, and it's a place where she doesn't have to be Powder, and doesn't have to be Jinx, both of which are identities that have well and truly shattered over the course of season 1, and act 1 of this season.

This is a place for her to be happy, and pretend all the misery she's associated with, for herself and others, don't exist. Just as she hides away from those two broken identities, she hides away from the rough and broken reality right out there, living in her little fantasies, as Sevika calls them, and, as Sevika also points out, this pocket world can't last forever either. Reality will come knocking on the door, no matter how much she hides away from it.

(She's up against Caitlyn, and given her investigative skill, it's not unlikely she'd be able to track her down even if she never set foot outside again.)

Secrecy is what keeps this place alive, but notably, for all that this place is created by Jinx for herself, and has existed in that vein since season 1, it now accommodates two people, and both of them have an influence over how it develops. Much as Jinx would like to ignore the world around her and its nasty realities, Isha keeps nudging her to step outside and face it anyway, and it's the fact that she steps outside of it willingly that makes this the only successful sanctuary we've seen.

Because a place where you get to set the rules, and relax and get a reprieve from the harsh realities of the world around you? Where you get to spend some time to figure out who you are and what you want to be? That's nothing unusual. Most of us just call this a home.

Vi

So what's it look like when you don't have that? When you don't have a way to shelter yourself from the harsh reality that is your life? Well, then you end up like Vi, rawdogging reality and getting beat down because of it. She didn't want to be Vi here anymore than Jinx wanted to be Jinx, but the new identity as a pit fighter she tried to craft was very much a fake, and washed away easily, because she never had the space to let it take hold: reality was always there to remind her that she was still Vi.

Hell, prison gave her more of an ability to develop herself, even if this meant reasserting herself as Vi by getting the name tattooed on her face.

Here she's just left entirely adrift, looking for purpose after having ruined and lost everything she cared about and fought for, looking for meaning to commit herself to, for someplace to belong, after everything she looked to before has been denied to her. She isn't able to build a new her because she isn't given the space to.

It's telling that Vi was so eager to stay in Viktor's sanctuary. Vi's a character who wants to devote herself to something, to a cause, to a person, whatever, and here's a cause offering itself up for her. Viktor could use a protector, and Vi could use a break from reality.

But Jinx isn't at all enthusiastic. She has already gone through a transformation. She has faced reality, and knows that reality matters. It won't just stay on pause for as long as you want it to, it'll keep going even when you're not looking.

Unlike Vi, Jinx has found a cause worth fighting for, something to believe in. She has people looking up to her now, people relying on her, and she's found that this responsibility, living up to it, is pretty goddamn validating.

So, she remains a skeptic in the face of this machine herald's fervour.

Because, if the murals on the walls hadn't tipped you off yet, she represents a different higher power.

Janna's Herald

When I first brought up this theme, I jokingly cut myself off from getting too deep into literary symbolism and calling this a womb, but it's a symbol that's stuck with me since. Each of these sacred places has been so very closely associated with death and rebirth, with different identities clashing and fusing, merging and growing from there, with immune responses to threats from outside (Singed is poison, after all, and he very much aborted Vander's rebirth when Viktor's protective barrier popped), that I have to look at it this way.

Jinx sacrificed herself on the altar to Janna, but she was not reborn there. She was reborn here. I've been somewhat negative about these pocket worlds so far, but this is what they are at their best. They gave this young woman a place to heal, a place to take the pieces of two broken identities and look at what still worked, and then put those together into a whole.

She did this with support and love from someone close to her, who facilitated and encouraged that growth, in exchange for sharing in the protection of this sanctuary, their own little sacred place, and so forged, with every laugh shared, a new identity from the old.

And when Janna's true herald stepped outside to face reality again, she held up. She held up under the scrutiny of her followers, her father, her sister, because that is what a sanctuary does. It gives you a reprieve, but only for long enough to pick yourself up and get out there again.

Now let's hope this identity can hold up even under its greatest blow.

[grison-in-space]

You know, we tend to think about play centered around the boundaries and interactions of power dynamics as a kink thing, but I think that's a bit short-sighted. Perhaps it's that I have mostly taught adults—which imposes a distinct but limited power dynamic on the working relationship—but I find I use play constantly to help frustrated or shy students relax, especially when relaxing about the possibility that I am particularly upset, impatient, or judgemental about their temporary struggle. Lots of smiling, careful observation of body language—if they stiffen further they're not necessarily parsing that it's play and I need to change tactics. I often make an explicit statement like "oh no, the horror, you're learning," smile as warmly as I can project, validate the frustration and point to any clear progress I see, and then ask questions about the place where they're struggling.

Trying to use cuts more to spare dashes, but the more I think about it, the more I keep coming up with examples of boundary/hierarchy play in cases of strong working relationships between established dynamics. It's not something I only engage in from top down, either: I also offer play gestures around boundaries to people who are supervising me, if and only if I otherwise like and trust them enough to do so.

Often students will engage in mock boundary pushing at "boundaries" that they have observed that I don't give a shit about, like the time one of my students was asked to explain why his DNA signature was "found" on a broken pipette in genetics class (implied: he was being charged with breaking it as part of an exercise in interpreting DNA fingerprinting data) and he submitted a two page legal brief with fully referenced case law mock accusing the class of stealing his genetic material without a warrant. (I was delighted. I often think fondly of that student, who had been enlisted military and clearly enjoyed play mocking the "brass," but was also absolutely respectful and engaged when it actually mattered.)

I see that with my dogs, too. For example, yesterday I observed Tribble catch my eye, start briefly digging in the garden—a behavior I pointedly discourage and have for most of her life—wiggle, and then take off to race around the yard while I stomped after her and pretended to be mad until she bounced up to the door and requested to come inside. (She was almost certainly getting cold.)

It's always risky to make inferences about animal signals and especially intentionality without good falsifiable hypotheses about what is being intentionally conveyed and unpacked, so just to be specific: she wiggled using very loose body language of the kind that we usually use when playing as we made eye contact, dug until I made an exaggerated outrage face and took a step towards her, and sprinted away to zoom around the yard in a way that a nearly thirteen year old dog generally does not do unless she has a strong, motivated point to make. I was also using exaggerated play versions of outrage: mock stomping my feet with big steps with no stiffness, waving my head from side to side in a gesture I make when playing with animals, a very offended high pitched "oh!" noise I don't make when I'm actually annoyed. Play around mock offense over a mock transgressed boundary, taking delight in each other's attention.

And I mean, she and I have known each other for almost twelve years. This is the dog I accidentally trained using only my idiosyncratic body language for cues; she never bothered to listen for vocal cues until Tay tried to ask her for things with slightly different hand signals and she was bewildered. We're both pretty good at reading each other at this point.

I just think there is a strong tendency to carve out hierarchy and boundaries as Very Serious Business all the time, especially when we are thinking about ethical power dynamics. But it's not always, not even close: ethical play across boundaries should be consensual and bidirectional (even if the social hierarchy isn't entirely consensual, as with parent/child or dog/handler relationships), and if it's not it should cease. We've all seen the mortification of bosses who attempt play with subordinates who are Not Enjoying Themselves, right? You've all seen The Office?

I'm just enjoying thinking about boundaries and hierarchies in this way this morning. We (by virtue of the fact that you're interacting with me on the Anglophone Internet, anyway) live in a culture that finds hierarchy and explicitly acknowledged power dynamics really distasteful and uncomfortable, but those dynamics are still real and they absolutely exist. As someone who has some distinct scars from people who had power over me but wanted to pretend that we were peers when that was convenient, I think there's something valuable about acknowledging how much play can be held in a healthy, solid nonsexual relationship that still has power dynamics and firm boundaries.