#it... it was a group effort my point being I'm innocent better

[butmakeitgayblog]

Buddy, I’m gonna need you to share my pain with everyone else. I cannot go through this alone 😭

Cue Taylor Swift.

For the record, you did this

You did.

By sending me TS's Soon You'll Get Better, which I had never even heard. And considering the honeymoon snippet you'd think you woulda seen it coming

This baby girl right here?

Right here?

This is Lexa who has completely stopped running from it.

Her illness causes bruising. That's just a fact of Lexa's life. It's what she wakes up to every morning and what she sees in the mirror before bed every night. It's something she'd gotten so used to working to cover up that by the time Clarke started coming around, it kind of didn't occur to her what would happen when or if she eventually couldn't keep them hidden anymore.

Or if she'd even want to hide them from her at all.

The first time they sleep together is when Clarke sees the full extent of it and, oh, Lexa practically shakes with how nervous it makes her. Because yes, she knows Clarke is attracted to her, and yes, Clarke has always been nothing but gentle with her, treating her like she's something precious rather than something broken that could crumble if held too firmly in her grasp. But it's another thing entirely to be laid so bare. To have every one on every rib stand out against the paleness of her skin. To see Clarke's eyes trace the peppering of them across her shoulders, her hipbone. Across her breasts, belly, and the dips of her thighs.

But Clarke kisses them with unwavering reverence. Not as though Lexa's delicate for them, but as though she loves those broken parts of Lexa every bit as as she loves the supple, unmarred skin around them. As though they're nothing more than pieces of Lexa's perfectly beautiful whole.

That's something Lexa didn't even know she needed until she had it. That feeling of Clarke cupping her face and nuzzling close. Breathing her in. Kissing her temples and cheeks. Taking on Lexa's burden as her own. That feeling of Clarke accepting her exactly as she is in her illness. Not despite it.

And that never changes. Not once when they're close or being intimate does Clarke treat her as anything other than just Lexa, the woman she loves. Not physically, not emotionally.

Which is how Lexa prefers it.

She prefers it on the bad days, when she can't even stand the sight of food and keeping down water feels like a herculean feat. On the days when she barely recognizes herself in the mirror amid the splotches of purple, yellow, and faded blue, Clarke still looks at her like she's nothing less than precious. And on the days when Lexa can't do anything beyond laying in bed drifting in and out of sleep, she appreciates the fact that Clarke will just slip under the covers beside her and snuggle up like that was always what she'd had planned for the day.

Because it's in those moments that Lexa can pretend.

They'll lay in her bed, usually naked and practically wrapped around each other, Clarke obviously boiling under Lexa's 4 insulated comforters... but she never complains. She just lays on her back and coaxes Lexa's head onto her chest, running her fingers through Lexa's hair and reverently kissing every bruise within reach. Humming with every kiss she faithfully returns in kind across the full swell of Clarke's breasts. (Forever a boob girl.)

And they take turns talking about what they're gonna do together "when this is all over" and seal every one with a lie-sweetened kiss. They make plans to visit the grand canyon and camp under the stars and shout to wide open sky till their lungs burn. They plan summers in Europe just to kiss under the Eiffel Tower and argue about wintery holidays split between the tropics and begrudging trips back home. They make plans to find the hidden sanctuary of some long forgotten waterfall to make love under and swear to dip their toes into the shores of every ocean.

They plan a lifetime's worth of moments in that quiet safety they find in Lexa's bed. Plans for a future life filled with all their love and all the pieces of the world they're gonna conquer together, someday.

Just as soon as Lexa gets better....

[slasherscream]

I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.

Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.

(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)

Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.

Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.

A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!

WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff

It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.

Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!

Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm. 

It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.

The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again. 

And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room. 

“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down. 

“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.

You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.” 

A beat of silence.

You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later. 

“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief. 

“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain. 

“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising. 

“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”

“You just don’t get it-”

“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.” 

“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?” 

He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you. 

Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.

There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock. 

“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter. 

Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.

Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.

When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”

“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.” 

“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up. 

She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before. 

She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t. 

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You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill. 

She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by. 

Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat. 

“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”

“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.” 

“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.

“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?” 

“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller. 

Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand.  “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”

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He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you. 

He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there. 

He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.  

Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go. 

He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out. 

(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful. 

“Do what?” 

“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.” 

You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.) 

He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do. 

Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood. 

So-

-behind it is. 

Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.

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Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.

During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.

Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.

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Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten. 

You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line. 

And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready. 

Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year. 

Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.

He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has. 

He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting. 

Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry. 

He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.

“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion. 

“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable. 

“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?” 

“Finish up what?” You ask.

“I still gotta put these away.” 

You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”

Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.” 

A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.

“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see. 

When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)

“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.” 

“Jordan.” 

“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-” 

You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.” 

“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days. 

“I’ll head to Cate’s.” 

“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too. 

You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.” 

Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.

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On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try. 

You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on. 

“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in. 

“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says. 

“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.” 

“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?” 

“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls. 

“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”

“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot. 

“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side. 

Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group. 

Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”

“Three years.”

“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.” 

“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”

“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests. 

Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.

“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar. 

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You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing. 

The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed. 

You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”

Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”

“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.

“That’s good, Jordan.” You say. 

“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs. 

Your face softens. “Baby…”

“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”

“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside. 

You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?” 

“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.

“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”

“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.” 

“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.” 

He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.” 

“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”

“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.” 

You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.” 

“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?” 

“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.

“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease. 

“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head. 

You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.

“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully. 

“I’d do it before you got the chance.”

You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back. 

[sy-on-boy]

My 2 cents on the plot / thematic relevance of Ch 95

This is not about advancing Plot B or showing Anya's school life (which is still true but has been discussed), but rather the overall theme of education and war. There was an excellent post about how Eden is at the frontline of the cold war and it is subtly shown through the innocent lens of the first graders (I can't find it now, would link it if I could). And I think that perfectly applies to Ch 95.

Quick recap on some references about education/students/war throughout the series (that I remember at the moment):

Sylvia gravely condemning the Berlint University Student Terrorists during the Doggy Crisis arc (Ch 20) and saying "did you learn nothing about war at your university?"

Henderson talking about his experience as a history teacher (Ch 27.5, Short Mission 4) and quote: "Yes, well, I have always maintained that there is nothing to be learned from the memorization of time lines. From the grand efforts with which our forefathers crafted society to the foolish notions that sent them racing to war, to not study the human element at history's root is to not understand history at all"

Note that Damian's best subject has been established to be history, and his family (father) has been involved in war, at least Donovan was PM during most of the war (established by Melinda in Ch 91). Donovan is also a graduated Imperial Scholar (Ch 64).

The Red Circus group started out as a peaceful student demonstration "advocating for peace and quality" (Ch 72) and "speaking out to protect the weakest members of our society". And Billy Squire said, "We were a respectable movement that fought for our cause with respectable means. It was the state that turned violent against us. So I'm not taking criticism from a member of the establishment (referring to Henderson, an educator). I'm gonna see to it that they reap what they've sown." Billy's daughter Biddy was killed by the state at a protest.

Less of a point, but Becky is the daughter of the CEO of a major military manufacturer. Despite their very likely involvement in military conflicts because they sell arms, the Blackbell cohort has been depicted positively so far: Becky being a kind, wonderful friend to Anya, Becky's father doting on her, and Martha again being kind and dignified (and also being an ex-soldier and acquainted with Henderson).

Eden Academy is a major setting for SxF and the themes of politics, education, and war are embedded in it. The students involved in protests/groups are older (the university students, Billy's daughter), but the political implications remain even among the youngest of the students— the first graders.

Hence, Ch 95. When mere first graders are shown to fight to gain connections, which can be political as pointed out by Henderson: "In the world of politics, dances serve as major social events". But of course, they are kids, so they see it more playfully and innocently, especially Becky with her shipper lens on.

Of course, there is also the aspect of getting to know other people better out of interest (the boys asking Anya and Becky to dance because they were impressed after the bus hijacking). But as people have mentioned, nobody mentions this to Damian despite him being equally involved in saving the class (all three of them got a star). The girls aren't interested in Damian as a person, they're interested in him as an asset because of his family and their power.

And I can see the teachers trying to diffuse the tension and create camaraderie with their friendly competition. To me, this reads as the teachers fully realizing "the battlefield of political maneuvering", and they want to remind the kids to have fun, to show good sportsmanship, to unite the kids, to operate as a class and be friendly with one another, and overall make it more lighthearted. It's nice to see the classes work together and get excited / win as a unit, especially compared to the more "individual" bits of fighting for a dance partner later.

We get a bit of comparison between Bill and Damian, with Bill showing good sportsmanship while Damian scoffs at him. But Damian ends up becoming ultra competitive and telling his classmates to not screw it up.

Like the Dodgeball chapter, Damian is clumsily attempting to lead the class by doing good in his quiz, while getting stressed and yelling at his peers when they don't succeed like he did. So he's not really a good leader. Like how him being good at history does not necessarily mean he is good at being peaceful (Short Mission 4 ends with Henderson staring in exasperation at Damian + Anya bickering with each other). But obviously, he is merely a child, and he is naturally immature.

At first Loid is all for advancing Plan B and analysed Anya's suitors in a rational (reductionist?) way by ranking them in terms of gaining intelligence, but he remembers this is just a dance, Anya is a kid, and she should do whatever she wants. Loid (and the adults) are very aware of the political side of the gala, but ultimately they want the kids to have fun and not worry / worry less about politics.

Because they're kids! They'll grow up and learn more and be politically active later, but right now, they're just kids. Kids who don't know much about the world but are eager to make the world a better place.

In the end, we get a panel of Anya and Loid "teaming up" to win Damian's hand for Plan B / world peace. The Damian-Anya dynamic is cushioned with the silly crushy feelings, but underneath it, Operation Strix continues to be a core motivation.

I find it interesting that Endo chooses to focus on the first graders and their innocent view of the world / politics. It's embedded everywhere and especially in a prominent school like Eden, but the kids don't really realise it / realise the severity of it. Heirs and heiresses are educated at Eden and grow up to have incredible influence and the power to shape the world. Our protagonist's best friend comes from a family that manufactures arms. Henderson mentions the importance of learning history to avoid making the same mistakes (ie. war).

So Ch 95 is a cute prom chapter. But I think it also helps to show the themes underneath the fun, bubbly interactions.

[jaylienpotter]

Conceited

Jegulus one-shot

Warning: Lily Evans bashing (kinda)

"Why don't you give me a chance? Even to be friends?!"

Regulus turned around and walked towards the source of the noise. He knew that voice very well.

"I hate you, Potter!"

Seemed like Black's crush was getting rejected again. Part of him was sad for his brother's best friend, another, more selfish side of him, was relieved.

"Why?! What did I ever do to you? I know I was a prick to Snape sometimes-"

"You're a bully!"

"I'm not a bully! Snape isn't stupid, nor weak, nor innocent. He does the exact same thing we did to him! He's not a victim." He wasn't wrong, to be a bully meant it was one-sided. Snape and Potter were more like mortal enemies.

"Even then, you're still a rich, obnoxious, arrogant, selfish prat who doesn't shut up about himself! You're so bloody conceited!"

That hit. He could see the hurt in those dark brown eyes. People didn't know the effort the tanned skinned boy put into helping others, making sure everyone is happy, included, safe. He could have all eyes on him yet no one noticed. Except Reg. He noticed James.

"That's not true." The pair turned to him in surprise, pale hands becoming fidgety with the sudden notion of being watched. He kind of regretted speaking up.

"James doesn't talk about himself. Yes, he's sometimes a bit obnoxious and loud, and he does talk a lot but it's never centered around himself. You're getting confused with my brother, Evans."

"Oh, please. Those two are the same. You're not in Gryffindor, you don't hear them all the time." Right, but he did hear from the boy in private. In their late night talks that started after Sirius ran away. Because James didn't want Reg to feel alone. He noticed. He cared. He helped.

"What does he say then? About himself. Not about his friends. Or the stupid pranks they all pull." He dragged the word 'all', making it a point that it didn't count.

"Do you know his favourite colour? Favourite animal? Favourite classes and professors? His grades? How many people he's dated? Anything about his home life? His life goals and dreams?" It was too late to back out, the rant had begun, and you bet Blacks finish what they start.

"Because I don't think so. He might talk a shit lot, but it's about his group plans, his friends, making jokes, making others laugh when feeling like shit as so many do nowadays," himself included. "It takes a lot to get him to talk about himself as an individual, actually. You would know if you gave him a chance. But for someone so against judgemental people, you really do focus on his appearance." Green eyes wide, pink lips shut tight. Regulus contained his smirk.

"He's a good person. A great friend. Selfless and caring despite being from an old pureblood family. And he fights for what he thinks is right. He fights for others. With his big personality comes a big heart. So if you don't make space for the love he has to offer just because you think you don't believe he has it in him, he's not the conceited one." Red hair nearly flew with Lily's stormed exit. She hadn't liked their interaction in the slightest. It was better that way. She wasn't deserving.

Piercing dark eyes were burning a whole through black curls. Reg avoided James's gaze, afraid of what he'd say. He only faced him when he felt the boy closer, and he could swear Potter's eyes were sparkling.

"You meant that...?"

"Of course. You care so much about everyone else that you forget yourself. You couldn't tell me what you wanted to do in the future because it would depend on what your friends decided to do with their lives. You're the most selfless person I know, and if she thinks otherwise, she doesn't deserve your love or friendship."

Silence. He really wanted the older boy to say something, but he just stared, lips slightly parted. Icy blue eyes looked away, shoulders tensing from the attention.

Warm strong arms surrounded his small figure, nearly making him halt. But Potter's sweet, intoxicating smell had him relax and melt in his arms, wrapping his much slimmer ones around his tanned waist.

"Thanks, Reggie." His heart skipped a beat at the nickname and he hoped James didn't feel it against his own chest. He was also thankful to have his face covered, absolutely certain that his white cheeks had turned fully pink.

[theamityelf]

Do you have anymore insight into more of Makoto and Kamamkurized Taka? I'm not saying Taka's love for Makoto could get obsessive but... 👀

Oh, absolutely!

Taka sees this normal human who was dumped amongst the experimental abominations, this innocent sacrifice laid before false gods, and he has to protect him. At first, it's not a personal thing; it's a rejection of what the scientists are saying by placing him here. That he's expendable, that he's inferior. Taka believes that what Makoto stands for is worthy of defending, but at first he doesn't feel capable of experiencing any emotional partiality towards him in particular.

He makes sure Makoto is safe from the others.

For his part, Makoto is both amazed and horrified by what was done to his friends. Horrified, most obviously, but he's still amazed when they do incredible things so casually. They find his reactions stimulating (just picture a bunch of bright crimson eyes staring at him from every direction; a bunch of uncannily slouching bodies gracefully maneuvering around him), and Taka is entranced by the pure human emotion.

In particular, Makoto's sadness for who they used to be and what they lost.

First of all, Taka loves that this grief proves that he cared about his friends for who they were and not what they could do. If he cared only for their talent, he would celebrate the change. Who doesn't want a pop sensation who can hit higher notes and never tire of concerts? Yet Makoto misses things about them that kept them from perfection.

And second of all, the persisting faith that exists within the sadness! A lot of them tell him point blank that his friends are gone, that only the Izuru Kamukura Project remains in their bodies. He doesn't agree. He insists that his friends still exist in some form, within them.

Taka of course tells him that he can't accept the name of the one who came before him, and asks Makoto to call him by his number, but in those moments that Makoto initially forgets and then corrects himself, he feels the temptation to just take the name, the identity, the friendship. Kiyotaka Ishimaru is gone, but something lives in his body, something which would devote itself fully to being a person if he was just allowed to be. When Makoto tells him about Kiyotaka Ishimaru, and the elements of him that he believes are still alive, he is so tempted.

"You would study together?" the experiment says. He maintains perfect posture, sitting and standing, but his head he angles down, as if to hide his face. He speaks inflectionlessly, but forcefully. Makoto says Ishimaru spoke loudly, too. "For class?"

"Yeah, pretty often. Sometimes in my room, sometimes his, sometimes in the library."

He likes imagining it. Did they struggle together? Help each other? Was Kiyotaka Ishimaru better or worse at math than Makoto? Did he read faster or slower? Did his hand cramp when writing? Did he notice every color in Makoto's eyes and skin like this abomination does?

The group (especially Aoi and Leon) find it entertaining to ask Makoto to do things like peel a fruit or solve a math problem. Just small tasks that they would be able to do effortlessly. For most of them, it's like watching a cat manage to turn a doorknob. Even those of them who don't personally urge him to do things that demonstrate his flaws will stop what they're doing to watch.

Taka watches, but not because he finds it amusing. He finds it beautiful. Human effort, as it should be. He loves Makoto's difficulty peeling an orange, his sluggish long division, his serviceably legible handwriting. His imperfections are worth more than the millions of dollars spent to create these monstrosities. He would– and in fact, earnestly believes they all should –die to protect the way Makoto stumbles over his feet, and the face he makes when he tries to put his thoughts to words.

"You're not abominations," Makoto says firmly. "You're my friends. Old friends or new friends, I don't consider you abominations. Something happened to you that you didn't choose, but you're here now. You're alive, you're real, and you matter as much as anyone else. You're a person."

Taka knows (believes) that Makoto is wrong, but that's alright. Being wrong about things is part of his humanity. Humans can form bonds with all kinds of things– even soulless experiments. It doesn't matter that Makoto is wrong, because his misplaced faith is so human.

Makoto is so human.

As much as Taka knows that Makoto should be among humans, under the sun instead of the laboratory lights, he finds himself becoming just as protective of Makoto's place among them as of Makoto himself.

The thought of Makoto leaving agitates him in ways he cannot justify.

Even if the scientists told him that they were letting Makoto go, sending him back to his family, how could he possibly trust them? How could he believe that they won't either turn him into another Kamukura or kill him to keep the story contained?

One day, one of the scientists asks him to forfeit his time with Makoto, in favor of a few hours in reflex testing, and he refuses. He gives no justification and cannot be convinced.

One day, Junko wraps her arms around Makoto, and Taka dislocates her shoulder, getting her off him. He reacts similarly with Byakuya and pretty much anyone who hasn't demonstrated themself to be consistently safe. Chihiro, Kyoko, Mukuro, and Hiro are pretty much the only ones he trusts to touch Makoto, and even then he's very watchful.

"Your loyalty dooms you," he says to him one night. He sits at the foot of Makoto's cot while he sleeps, like a guard dog, and for once, he speaks quietly. Too quietly for Makoto to hear. "It seems as if you wouldn't leave us, even if we could let you."

Kyoko, in her cot, asks, "Does that make you feel better about the fact that you can't?"

"I'm sure he could," Sayaka interjects. "He was the Ultimate Moral Compass in a past life. Temperance comes naturally to him."

"Hagakure?" Chihiro says. "Can Ishimaru let him go?"

"That depends. Did Owada lead with his left foot or his right foot, leaving the bathroom this morning?" (He's joking; he's just not going to answer the question.)

"Hifumi? Have you seen us letting him go?"

"I'm afraid I'm not in this scene."

"Are you all talking to each other?" Makoto whispers, having not heard pretty much any of that.

"Yes," Taka replies. "Don't let it rob you of sleep. Your body needs rest."

"And your body takes pleasure in knowing it," Junko teases. "Isn't he so human? So pure?"

"Not an abomination at all," Aoi joins in the ribbing.

"Well, there's still time."

"We won't allow that," Mukuro says. "There are more than enough people for them to tamper with; they know better than to touch what has been made ours."

"What are you guys talking about?" Makoto asks. Again, not having heard anything since Taka spoke.

"You," Taka replies.

"Wait, really?"

"What else would we discuss? Again, you mustn't let it keep you from your rest."

"Oh, um, okay...Well, good night, guys."

Some of them respond in kind.

"I wonder if they gave him to us to prevent Ishimaru from eventually blowing up the building with all of us inside," Celeste muses.

"I've had the same thought," Aoi says, and a few of their classmates voice their agreement.

Taka ignores them, just watching Makoto drift toward sleep. He drools in his sleep. So flawed. So human. The drool on that pillow is worth more than everyone else in this room.

He knows that love is a human emotion. A thing Makoto experiences for his friends and family. A thing Makoto should one day experience for another normal human, if he ever wants to get married or...

He knows that what he feels is a perversion of the human concept of love, as much as he is a perversion of a human. He knows it, because imagining a normal human for Makoto to love makes him wish death on this imaginary person, and that's a feeling an Ultimate Moral Compass would never have. He wishes Makoto could have had a life with Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the one he studied with, the one who made human mistakes and followed the rules and tried his best always.

But he doesn't need Hagakure's answer as to whether he'll ever let Makoto go. He already knows.

[the-badger-mole]

Reaching for Hope

These last few months have been filled with the most horrifying stories and images coming out of Palestine, DRC, Sudan, Yemen, and too many other places around the world. We, in the US, have seen our president- our political leaders- roll over and not only allow the atrocities to continue, but to actually financially support and arm the perpetrators, despite the majority of us screaming for them to stop. To me, there is little difference between the Democrats and the Republicans at this point. Both parties are bought and paid for by the same people. As a new presidential election is coming up, I can't in good conscious vote Democrat. Not after what I've seen. Not as long as they refuse to hear us when we tell them we don't want Genocide Joe Biden or any of his cabinet to run.

But what is the solution?

I hate the feeling of helplessness I feel. I hate watching the horrors being carried out with my tax dollars. I hate that our "leaders" are more concerned with keeping the money from groups like AIPAC than actually representing the people who voted for them. They have put my finger on the trigger and they won't let me let go.

I'm trying to figure out how to make my voice heard. I've reached out to my representatives. I've done what I can to amplify voices that need to be heard more than mine. I can't claim any special effort in following BDS boycotts because the truth is, these aren't brands I have a whole lot of intentional contact with in the first place. As for Starbucks and McDonald's, I don't like either place so, cutting them off took very little for my part. I do encourage you to avoid all of these businesses, though. I don't know what else to do.

I will not vote for Joe Biden if he runs again. I will do my best to find down ballot candidates who's values are more in line with mine, but I will not give my support to a man who sees the atrocities being committed in Palestine and gives billions and weapons to the people committing these crimes against humanity. If the DNC is smart, they will be actively looking for candidates who don't openly support genocide, but let's face it, we ALL know how smart the DNC is. So, barring some drastic change, barring the DNC running a candidate who isn't on the take from AIPAC, who will actually pull support from Israel as they try to wipe out an entire culture for the sake of oil, I will be voting third party. I'm considering voting for Claudia De la Cruz of the PSL party, but there's nearly a year left, so I'm open to shopping around.

I know there are those that will say that pulling votes away from Biden is essentially voting for Trump. I know that there are those that will say that if the Republicans take the office again, they'll gut our rights. To that, I say, a vote for Trump is a vote for Trump and a vote for Biden is a vote for Biden. If the DNC can't come up with a better candidate and a better reason to vote for them than the same fear mongering tactics they've been using for years, then Trump is the DNC's fault. What has the Democratic party done to ensure our rights? What protections for voting rights have they passed at a federal level? What protections for education? For bodily autonomy? How do we have FOURTEEN BILLION to spare for freakin ISRAEL, but nothing for public schools? Nothing for student loan relief? Nothing for public health? Police reform? What good is the Democratic party if their only real platform is "Vote Democrat because we're not that guy"? If your conscious tells you to vote for Biden in November, so be it. As for me, I can't look at the man without seeing the blood of innocent men, women and children dripping off of him.

[mrsalwayswrite]

What Words Can't Say - Chapter 1

A/N: Welcome to my new series! When I watched MOTA I had no intentions to become obsessed but here we are.

Summary: When Abby joined the war effort, her only purpose was to support her cousin and fix up the B-17 Fortresses so they could continue their missions. She had no intentions of getting close to the men who piloted them. Yet when the 100th Bomb Group flew into Thorpe Abbotts, specifically a handsome blond Major, her carefully built walls began to crumble, one brick at a time.

Warnings: Brief mentions of blood and violence

Words: 1455

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

May, 1943

The sound reminded her of a thunderstorm as she stood on the tarmac, watching one by one as the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortresses took off into the blue sky. There was beauty in the forts as they took off, these massive machines rising into the clouds and defying gravity as they dotted the sky above. A similar beauty as found in thunderstorms, in her opinion. There was a timeless awe in witnessing lightning racing across the sky. 

Yet she had lived through too many storms, the initial spark of wonder drowned out by knowing what those storms brought, the destruction that followed in their wake. 

As her hazel eyes followed the path of the forts, heading to their new target, she could not help but wonder how many men and planes would return. 

An arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her close. She willingly followed the action, leaning her head against the man's shoulder, even as they both kept their eyes on the sky. 

“It'll be better this time. I've got a feeling.”

She could not help the sad smile that her cousin's comment drew forth. “You're too much of an optimist for being in a war.”

“Yeah? Well, your pessimism is annoying.” He flicked her ear with a chuckle. 

“Ouch!”

He quickly stepped away before she could retaliate. “Alright, let's get some chow and rest!” He called out to the ground crew standing nearby. “We've got six hours until the forts are expected to return.”

She glanced up at the sky one more time as the last of the bombers disappeared in the distance. She hoped her cousin's feeling was right. Maybe they would get lucky this time. 

“Come on, Abby,” her cousin called to her from a few paces away. 

After a brief sigh, she turned on her heel and quickly caught up to where he stood waiting for her. “I'll do the task list, you go lay down. I know you barely slept last night.”

“It's alright, I can–”

She not-so-gently shoved him. “Go, I've got this. I'll sleep after.”

Ken Lemmons squinted at his older cousin before conceding defeat. “Fine. Have Dog-Face help you.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” She dismissively waved a hand. “Go on before I write your mother a letter about how you aren't taking care of yourself.”

“You wouldn't!”

“How quickly do you think she'd get on the next ship to England?”

Ken groaned. “I'm going! Christ. I thought we were a team!”

“We are.” She smiled innocently. “Teammates look out for each other.”

“Threatening to write my mother is not something a teammate would do.”

“Only for your own good.” She reached up to rub her hand over his curls, only to pull her hand back with a grimace. “Ugh, when was the last time you showered? Your hair is disgusting.”

Laughing, he pushed his head towards her face, made easier since she was shorter than him. “Smell me!” 

“You're gross!” She shoved him away, laughter bubbling up inside her. “Shower first, then sleep.”

He gave her a quick two finger salute before jogging to catch up to the other male ground crew, all hoping to get a couple hours of shut eye before dealing with the chaos that would arrive when the forts returned. 

Walking over to the over-glorified shed where they stored their tools and extra parts for the B-17s, she mentally started going down the checklist, making sure everything was back in its place and no idiots - dammit Simon - lost another wrench. The actions were second nature by this point, and why Ken (who was the ground crew chief and lead mechanic) trusted her to do it. 

Once completed, she headed towards the Red Cross nurses’ hut to catch up on her own sleep. Since she was the only female mechanic at Thorpe Abbotts, they had billited her with the nurses. Most of the nurses were friendly enough with her, although it took time for some of them to mentally adjust to her being in a ‘men's’ role and not a nurse, secretary or radio operator like the other women on the base. Overall, it was not a terrible arrangement, but with the amount of women coming and going from the hut due to their various shifts, it was hard to get a deep, restful sleep. 

Before stepping into the hut, she glanced up at the sky one more time and sent a silent prayer to a God that vanished with the onset of the War, praying that more men and forts would return this time. 

Please, let this mission not end in disaster…

*****

Fire, screams and sirens filled the air as what was left of the bombers returned to the airfield. 

Her eyes scanned over the few planes that returned, assessing the level of damage and repairs needed. Not enough. Not enough forts and men returned. Again. Even though she had been doing this for months now, it never got easier. Seeing the destruction of the forts, the decimation of the men and the knowledge of who and what were lost…it sapped strength from the soul. 

But she had a job to do, and she would not stop until they told her too. 

“Is it always like that?” 

Abby heard the question asked to the left of where she stood. The quiet question was at odds with the chaos around them, a juxtaposition in which she could not help but take notice, even as she continued surveying the damaged planes. She always waited until the injured were removed from the tarmac and the rest of the men were driven off to interrogation before getting close. She had learned the hard way that with her smaller stature, it was easy to get trampled. 

“You wondering what to tell your guys? My advice - don't. They'll find out once they're up there.” The veteran pilot walked away, hoisting his pack further up on his shoulder. 

The new major stared up at the plane he suffered hell through with a mix of horror and resignation. His fellow pilot's words were obviously being replayed over and over along with the horrors he witnessed in his mind. So caught up in his own memories, she doubted he even noticed her move closer. 

Abby heard about the new major and his 100th Bomb Group that were to arrive in the next two weeks. Most of the information she gleaned from the man before her was from the nurses she bunked with. Apparently, Major John Egan had quite the reputation. The nurses gossiped about his handsome features- those dark eyes, the mustache that tickled when he kissed them, and that cheeky smirk that broke hearts as easily as a bullet shattering glass. Abby witnessed firsthand how the man seemed like the sun and everyone around was unable to help the gravity pulling them towards him. He was charismatic, funny and kind, and did not mind making a fool of himself. The ladies loved flirting with him, offering dance after dance in the Officer's Club. While those that snuck away into dark corners with him gossiped about how attentive and talented he was, with more than just his mouth. 

Yet at this moment, none of those characteristics were apparent. Instead he looked like a lost, little boy that had been dared to jump off the bridge and did it; but now at the bottom, he realized the danger he survived and wondered if his friends would too. 

“Major?” She hesitantly said, trying not to startle him. 

Her voice seemed to jolt him from wherever his mind had traveled too. Those dark eyes -haunted now by what he saw- darted to her and he almost seemed to breathe a sigh of relief from being released from those memories. 

“Sir, you've got blood on your hands. You should wash it off and then get to interrogation. The Brass here are particular about that.”

“Uh…thanks.” He tried to smile but it was a faint thing. He glanced up at the forts once more then turned on his heel, heading to a nearby jeep waiting for him. 

She watched him walk away and wondered if he would tell his Bomb Group the truth or like what was suggested, let them experience it for themselves. She could never truly know what those pilots experienced, but for how often she had to patch up their forts and witnessed the dead and wounded men removed from the planes beforehand…she could take a guess. 

And there was nothing that could prepare a soldier for that level of hell. 

Straightening the red handkerchief that covered her brunette hair, she sighed before jumping into the fray. Hopefully, they had a couple days to work on the forts before another mission happened.

Hopefully. 

Tag List: @beebeechaos

[clonehub]

I feel like aside from not white washing the clones the bad batch might be better if crosshair wasnt redeemed. Like he uses being a good soldier as am excuse for committing atrocities but he actually is just ok with it and he doesnt get a convenient out of it being a chip and he willingly works for the empire would imo work better

Sorry an pt2 to that ask but like I know timblr loves their redemption arcs and calling anyone who dislikes them cops or morally wrong. But I just feel like acting like anyone and everyone can be redeemed is also just a bad lesson to teach and that redemption has to start with the character realizing they're wrong and wanting to do better key word being wanting, and I dont see that in crosshair. He doesnt come off as someone who wants to be redeemed, he seems pretty into the warcrime and evil. I hope I'm making sense.

I also wonder what TBB would be like if they'd gone the much riskier but potentially more fulfilling route of not redeeming Crosshair. They could make him a tragic character at that point, but only if they simultaneously make all of the bad batch at complete moral odds with him, but also still have faith in him.

Crosshair as he stands now has two reasons for why he joined the empire: arrogance/superiority and because he wasn't opposed to the violence. his leaving only addresses the former, and barely. as in, he says he left because the empire wasn't loyal to him. But the violence he committed against innocents, and the violence the Empire committed against entire groups of people, don't mean anything to him. If they did, he would have mentioned them.

Sason 3's emotional arc for him focuses on all the wrong things as they try to force a redemption that, to me, doesn't feel earned. Does crosshair respect the regs? No. I don't see that, at least. He maybe, at the most, tolerates them. But the writers use saving Howzer's life as a stand in for Crosshair actually doing the work of owning up to getting a lot of Howzer's men hurt/killed. Crosshair should have had to own up to the fact that he likely traumatized Omega by a) trying to get her shot, b) trying to set her on fire basically, and c) knowing that the Empire foreced him to do (a) and (b) and still choosing them over her.

I also don't think omega should have been so gungho to forgive him.

If they keep Crosshair evil, this can give the Batch permanent emotional consequences and conflicts to deal with. Maybe they all think differently about how to address the Crosshair Question. Maybe they all beg and plead with him—really plead—to join them, and when he refuses, they leave. And then he hems and haws over maybe being good, but his fatal flaw is that he will always fight to be at the top of a pyramid that was designed to keep him at the bottom. Family be damned. He needs his superiority affirmed.

They also could still redeem him (blegh) but really show us that he respects the regs as much as he respects himself and his brothers. That he values their insights, thoughts, and opinions, and does want to see them saved from Tantiss. He doesn't do any of this, of course, and the writers make no effort to show that side of him. You'll get fans who maybe will say that he does respect regs. It'll be like struggling to plug in a lamp with a short cable into a wall and then insisting the light is on.

I saw someone else say that sometimes the conclusions drawn or themes understood in TBB are all things that could be plausible if you stretched. Like yeah, that's a conclusion you can reach, but the pieces aren't really there, you know?

Crosshair gets forgiveness for the wrong things and doesn't really work for them at any point, in my opinion. I said this on a podcast I guested on about a year ago, but saving someone's life doesn't always mean you actually, really respect them. Many people are simply not comfortable with having someone die in front of them. Crosshair, despite how severe he could be and how space-racist he could be, didn't seem the type (to me) to willingly leave anyone to die. he sucked but he wasn't evil like that, hence why I don't count him saving Mayday on that ice planet as a major leap in morals the way audiences are expected to view it.

because, again, when he says why he left the empire, does he say "Because they mistreated clones like mayday the same way they mistreated me, and i realized that the Empire was only ever going to hurt everyone regardless of how we value ourselves, which made me realize im not better than the regs and also that the Empire, which wiped out the jedi and killed civilians, is actually atrocious"? No. He puts himself first: loyalty, and loyalty to him. Yeah, he's learned to be loyal to his brothers, but their moral differences not playing a part at all in their emotional conflicts is making me believe that if TBB had all decided to join the Empire, Crosshair never would have left for any other reason. Again, the atrocities are a non-issue to him.

(Crosshair and hunter argue, but it's about HUnter's alleged guilt over not rescuing omega but Crosshair being the one to get him out. Not Crosshair's antics being part of the reason why Tech is dead. Not Crosshair repeatedly endangering the squad after his chip's out because he thinks they ow him loyalty before they're required to stick to their morals).

This post has gotten away from me, so I'm going to leave it here. I've been toying around with a rewrite of them for some time, and I might make Crosshair the epitome of lateral oppression and self-loathing in a marginalized person. He needs the oppressor's approval, the oppressor's power, even if it might cost him his life.

[inksolate]

Debate 3: Opening & Closing Statements

Etoiles: "Aim for the stars, vote for Etoiles!"

Sometimes, you know, when you go on an island you can feel like everyone is dark and like you can't see the sun, you can't see the light. And you know, Etoiles in french means stars because when you are lost, when you don't feel anything, you can trust someone: someone who gives things, someone who gives resources, someone who gives an ear to listen to others. And sometimes I'm like, "Yeah, if you have one president, he can be corrupted" but I know who I am, I know where I'm from, I will never be a co-op. I will just be myself. I will be the star you need. And I think, like, if you want to vote for me, you will understand that the Code will be crying because he won't understand the solution. I know everything. I've got the weapons, I've got the heart, but having a vice president and having someone in the island will be a good idea to give me ideas, but I think I could be the voice to give the ideas to everyone. So aim for the stars, vote for me, have a good time, it's okay!!!

BBH: "A vote for me is a vote for the eggs, support the eggs!"

Look, I think Baghera, I think Cellbit, I think Foolish - well maybe not Foolish - but everybody has made really good points. I think everybody need to consider the fact that we've all been heavily divided by the Federation. But I think what we need to remember is the things we agree upon, right? The values that we all cherish and hold true, the fact that we all care about the eggs the fact that we all hate the federation except Foolish. Vote based on what you believe. And it's not just a question though of that - of whether we hate the federation, the survival of the eggs. It's also about, genuinely, can we trust one person with our collective wellbeing, okay? Because I think what we've seen is that any one person is open to corruption, kidnap, betrayal, and that's just a risk we all take when we elected a person. We have different philosophies: some of us think only one person should govern, some of us think it should go up for a council. And depending on what you think, you should vote based on your own beliefs. If you think one person is better, vote for an individual. Vote for that one person who's ideas you like the most. If you like the idea of power being distributed amongst a group of people and not one person having all of the authority, vote for that person and that proposal you agree with the most, okay? But that's the point, my proposal is I think that the eggs are the most trustworthy, innocent, and benevolent members of out community. And I think they are people that we hold in the highest regard. I will protect the eggs that will symbolize our future. Let us forge a better path together for all and create an eggtopia!!!

Baghera: "Hi, I am for uniting together and fighting the bad Federation, let's go!"

Well, I feel like I am repeating myself all over again, but I think you all know exactly what I want to do and it's always giving the voice to the people, it's always being secured and safe from the Federation, and I think we always forget this point and we are fighting for power that doesn't even exist, and I want you to remember and keep in mind that we are all one and we can unite together against it and not forget it.

Cellbit: "You should vote for insaneduo because we go crazy for you!"

This whole election was based on what it means to have responsibility to make the island better. But THE QUESTION IS: is the Federation actually giving us the power or manipulating us with it? Well everything that I have said in this last debate, on these past weeks, everything is true. Forever will actually fulfill those plans: add the new mods, create new events, and work nonstop to make the island better. If you guys want someone that will have the time, effort, and responsibility to make the island better, you should vote for Forever when the time comes so we are sure ElQuackity doesn't get to power because that's what the Federation wants. But me, I want freedom. I never wanted to become president. Everyone wonders what I would do if I become president but I guess we will never know.

Foolish: "KELP WILL HELP and with my newest product of Kelp cocaine, you can help yourself!!!"

Words, words, Kelp will help....Uh I will, to be fair to everyone, when I become Kelp I will make sure nobody has power but me! I'll use my power for mostly good but sometime bad if I deem necessary. COCAINE!!!

[ananicoleta]

I am supposed to be doing my homework rn but I can't concentrate. I have pent up feelings inside me and I feel like they are eating me up on the insite. I need to vent. Having nowhere else to turn to I decided tumblr.

WARNING: This is very LONG. I don't know what I'm even saying, I'm just ranting nonesensically at this point. If you don't want to read about the identity crisis of an overwhelemed teenage girl then feel free to ignore.

It all began a few days ago, Monday I think, when I went out with my two best friends (girls). One of them had just broken up with her bf (she wasn't too sad about it) and we were chatting about boys. Both of them had dated before, had flirted and kissed guys and even more. I have never done those things (although I sometimes wish I had someone) so I whistfully said 'When's gonna be my turn to have a bf?' This statement started a whole conversation.

They told me that I can't just wish for a bf, that things don't just happen and that I need to stop daydreaming all day and take action. At first, I didn't know what they meant. Then they started telling me that I am basically too childlike, seem too innocent and don't even try to attract guys. They told me that when I have conversations with them I don't even try to flirt or look at them with doe eyes (I suck at this), I just talk to them nicely, as if they are just my coworkers or classmates. This shocked me because I have never even thought about it that way.

I simply thought that if I am nice and if I have great ideas people will be attracted to me and like me. I bond with people over deep conversations, shared interests, ideas, concepts and things like these. But apparently this whole approach is wrong. Apparently, people during a conversation don't focus on the information, but on the person and on the body langauge. Small talk (which I don't really like tbh and I kinda suck at it) is appaerntly like that: NOT the information matters, BUT the person, the way they talk, how they move. This blew my mind.

They went on to say that I focus more on the information than the person (therefore I focus on the wrong things) and that gives boys the impression that I am not available or intersested. "You need to find the woman in you" they said. "We don't want you to change yourself, you are great the way you are, but you need to better yourself and evolve. You are not a child anymore".

Moreover, not only that I do this with boys but with everyone (well, duh, because I thought that this is how you are supposed to interact). They said I talk to everyone like they're a coworker or a classmate (I don't view people like that, I didn't know it looked that way) and that I always seem more interested in the information I recieve, not in bonding with the person (even though that is the way I bond).

The thing is, I also tend to zone out during conversations when they don't particulary interest me. I love to daydream (I do it for hours, while pacing back and forth, flapping my hands repeatedly and listening to music) and when the conversation gets boring, I start paying less attention to what is being said and mkre attention to my thoughts. Even with conversations that interest me, sometimes, I have to resist daydreaming (although it tends to happen less if I am very involved). They told me that that is wrong and "no wonder no one's interested in you since you don't look interested in them". Apparently, people do and should pay attention even when it gets boring?? I didn't know that! Why did no one tell me! (of course if I am one-on-one I do keep the conversation going to prevent it from becoming awkward, but if I'm in a group setting then I don't make a lot of effort. apparently that's wrong.)

The overall message was that I need to stop daydreaming so much, be more confident, improve my social skills, try to pay better attention to my surroundings and to the people around me and practice my flirting skills on boys (even if I have no idea how to do that or where to start). And the thing is, they, along with the majority of the girls around me, seem to be doing these things so effortlessly, they have a natural feminine charm, a way with people and I just don't know how to act, what to say, how to say it. It's incredibly weird. I tried to follow their advice ever since then, but it's not really working. I can't really pay attention to my surroundings, to people, all the time. It's overwhelming and exhausting. I still wind up daydreaming. Now I'm afraid that I'll never succeed and I'll remain single forever, that no one will be attracted to me or like me that way. I just don't know how to put myself out there.

This conversation also made me realize how differently I percieve the world and human interractions compared to my friends. I've always seen people as people. Boys, girls, it didn't matter to me. Apparently, that's not how it works. "I treat boys as if they are just normal people." I said. "Well, that's the thing," they said, "you mustn't treat them like people. You must treat them like boys." While I understand the logic behind it and what they are trying to say, it simply never occured to me to do that or think like that. Or that, if I don't act that way, then boys won't like me and percieve me as just a friend, a nice person, no attraction there, sir.

Tbh I've always felt a bit different. Different than them, than my classmates, than the world. Ever since I was young I was the weird one, the one kids picked on, the odd one out. Everything I did was just not right, the way I was and acted was wrong and I needed to change. Thankfully, I've adapted and now I don't do certain things in public (e.g flapping my hands) like I used to. I've understood that certain things are not socially acceptable, I've gotten better at human interractions (when I was in primary school and a bit of middle school, I was a disaster) and my social skills have improved. But I still feel like I'm almost always two steps behind everyone else, like there is something I just don't get. I don't know what it is and it frustrates me.

I thought that I might be neurodivergent, maybe autistic, but after a lot of research, I feel like I'm in between. I don't meet all of the criteria in order to be diagnosed with autism. I can interrpret facial expressions, figures of speech, hand gestures, most social cues, read between the lines, comfort people, get sarcasm and jokes (most of the time) and I can feel and show empathy (I'd say that I'm actually too empathetic). I DO have certain problems with certain stimuli but never to the point where it's actually hinderring. The only symptoms that I seem to have are stimming (hand flaping, pacing back and forth, ricking etc.), a niche interest (I've been interested in cartoons my whole life to the point that I read and know a lot about them and I only want to talk about them and I feel very connected to them and invest almost all my time and energy in them), perhaps executive dysfunction and a few problems here and there with some social norms and cues. I do have a fiery temper and I am very emotionally sensitive and I do have a lot of breakdowns, but I don't know if they can be classified as autistic meltdowns....

Idk where I'm going with this man... I guess I just feel very lost, like I'm neither neurodivergent nor neurotypical, like I'm stuck in between, like no matter what I do I'll never belong in any place, nor in the autistic community, nor with the NTs. Like no one will ever get me (I know I might seem self-centered but this is how I feel). I don't want to self-diagnoze (hello, imposter syndrome), but at the same time the thought of opening up to my friends and family, even to my therapist, leaves me petrified. I'm not scared of being judged. If I were neurodivergent I'm sure everyone I love would accept me. I'm actually afraid of being dismissed ("stop it, Ana. you're fine."). It would hurt just as much as exclusion.

Like I said, Idk where I'm going with this. It's just me veinting so I can get this off my chest and concentrate on my homework afterwards. Probably tomorrow I'll be back to rebliogging cartoons, completely ignoring this rant.��

[overthinkingtaleblr]

My Kermit the Claw Headcanon Masterlist

Once again was unable to come up with an easy answer on what to talk about this week, but since I just drew Jimmy Casket, I might as well talk about someone I think is associated with him. Talking about him and CBF sets the stage to talk about Casket and Ghost... Additionally, I want to talk about less well-known characters with this, I think it's ultimately a benefit.

A forgotten Acachalla, cousin of Papa, by the end of his life Kermit was a serial killer. He had an arch-nemesis in Princeton Quagmire, who claimed the two used to be friends, and was originally the person who would end Johnny Ghost's life permanently... before that was retconned. He was a cowboy and also Kermit the frog, but I ignore that second part for now.

I gave him an incredibly tight connection to Casket's story in One headcanon, so I'm happy to explain that one.

History HC

Since he is not very defined as a character, most of these are, in fact, headcanons. I do want to emphasize that him being related to the Acachallas, or at least Maxwell if I’m remembering wrong, comes from canon.

A member of the Acachalla gang in the wild west, Kermit is one of Papa Acachalla’s cousins. Not the most interested in the heists his family would do, he was more drawn to living out in nature. He would act as the team cook when they’d spend nights outside of towns and cities, spending the day hunting and fishing for the family. He was also one of the best inside of the family at bartering, just because Papa would be pretty aggressive and Jeremy tended to panic if he was recognized. While not really charismatic, Kermit was able to keep things civil long enough to buy milk and eggs… and if that failed for whatever reason, he’d just turn around and steal it.

At some point in time, he began working with Princeton Quagmire, a frequent associate of the family, as a duo of partners. While Kermit was not motivated by crimes, he was not opposed to them, and he and Princeton would frequently join in the looting if the group needed extra hands.. or guns. Though, as time went on, more and more towns began instituting firearm restrictions to prevent looting, leading Kermit to grow frustrated with having to do all these things to just try to keep a weapon. Jose got around it by carrying a crossbow instead of a gun, and Princeton was strong enough to not need a firearm, but Kermit didn’t want to learn a new weapon and he absolutely didn’t have the strength to go bare-handed.

Then one day, he seemed to have an idea out of nowhere.

Commissioning a blacksmith close to the family to make some tweaks to a knife Kermit found, he set it up like a gauntlet with a large retractable claw connected to it. He explained to the others, and perhaps to himself as well, that it would make his hunting much more efficient. Which, wasn’t entirely wrong— it did conserve the animal much more than a shotgun was, though it was more effort to trying to get close enough to use the claw to begin with. Kermit got increasingly better at sneaking up on animals to use this method, and consequently became better at sneaking up on people as well.

He spent almost all his time with Princeton, so it wasn’t really a thing where the other members of the family could’ve picked up on the red flags. Princeton, on the other hand, thought this was a normal Acachalla thing, since the family in general is so odd, and didn’t think to question Kermit’s newly increasing bloodlust. He was more aggressive when doing heists and was seemingly having fun during them as well. He was like a completely different person… Eventually, after going completely unchecked and unchallenged for a long time, it boils over and Princeton realizes Kermit is no longer discerning between threats and innocents when choosing who to attack. After a short time of trying to figure out what was going on, almost getting stabbed to death several times and a few new scars convinces Princeton that this was another weird Acachalla thing and Kermit was always going to turn out this way.

The two separate, with Princeton deciding that the pair were arch-nemeses now, but all this did was leave Kermit generally unchecked. Between his personal survival skills, his ability with the knife, and his widespread family in a time of low communication, Kermit was basically set to become an unchecked cross-country murderer. Additionally, with the longer-than-most Acachalla lifespan, he would continue to be able to do this until someone managed to kill him back. He was an urban legend or cryptid for an incredibly long time between a multitude of states, before he eventually suddenly drops off the Earth.

What caused him to suddenly go missing is not public knowledge, but the most likely scenario is that he died.

General HCs

Despite being an Acachalla, he doesn’t really have any special powers. That’s part of what makes him so concerning— aside from the lack of aging, he is an entirely normal person who is just incredibly powerful compared to others.

In the Acachalla family, Kermit is a little younger than Jeremy, but older than Papa. He’s also the only one of the cousins (so far) to not have Acachalla as a surname despite being directly related to the Acachalla bloodline.

Papa and Jeremy are both Acachallas through their father, Maxwell is an Acachalla through his father, but Kermit is an Acachalla through his mother, Mary, who took her husband’s name when she married. Unfortunately, if I’m following canon the way I’m interpreting it right now, his father is named Bobbio Fart. Meaning his mother is Mary Fart meaning his name is Kermit Fart.

Not only did the Acachalla family not know what was happening with Kermit until Princeton yelled at them for it, but with Papa getting haunted and Jeremy going through it in a supernatural way, they likely wouldn’t have considered it important. Kermit was only a threat when he went off, while the other two were threats to themselves as well as everyone else.

Soon after learning about Kermit, Maxwell died in an accident that wound up unanimously agreed to be Papa’s fault, so the attention was drawn back off of him very, very fast.

Alternatively, he and Princeton actually partnered up legally and he is Kermit Quagmire, which I find incredibly interesting and do consider a lot.

Tying into this headcanon is one that consists basically of Jimmy Casket being infectious, traveling between people who are able to kill/draw blood/who knows from the active stabber with their own weapon of choice (the knife). He is the same person every time, likely a demon of some sort, and while he doesn’t go by Jimmy Casket until he possesses Ghost, he is very much still the same person.

Princeton and Kermit never have a massive end-all-be-all fight and finish things, but there is a chance that Princeton was also possessed by Casket before or after meeting Kermit— seeing as in some Murder videos, Princeton will Turn Into Casket or vice-versa.

Kermit never met Johnny Ghost, Paranormal Investigator Extraordinaire, but he did murder Ghost’s father, Johnny Ghost Sr.

He liked to cook for his family, and would’ve looked into being a chef if none of this terrible supernatural stuff happened. He frequently caught and prepped his own food, which added to his understanding on how to use a knife before making the claw.

The whole “you wanna know my secret” thing that Jimmy does didn’t start until Ghost was possessed, with him still having people in his life to taunt to begin with being a large kickstarter for that. Since Kermit was frequently alone, he mostly just made up songs to himself and hummed while hunting people.

Trivia

Kermit knows who to play guitar and taught Maxwell during slow days. Admittedly, who taught Maxwell how to play guitar has fluctuated for me, but I’m planning on settling for Kermit for the reference to The Frog

While on his death bed, Princeton has a fever dream about encountering and fighting Kermit again. This is a thing in a video, and I know ‘it was all a dream’ is dull and boring, but I think it works So Well in this one situation.

He is definitely the forgotten family member— since he’s always been able to handle himself and never had to take care of anything for his family in a long-term responsibility, they just always assumed he was okay. Even after he completely went off the rails.

Princeton is apparently a time-traveler according to what I read in the wiki, so Kermit actually learned some modern slang from spending so much time with Princeton, adding to his uncanniness as time went on.

His most frequently-stolen item consisted mostly of oranges, which he’d take right off of trees in passing towns to avoid having to pay for them. The west is well-known for its citrus, which is why I didn’t just say fruits in general.

Frogs are one of the only things he refuses to kill, because he likes their little faces. He often carries them around in his pockets or leaves them snacks when camping near rivers. This is a habit that continues into his days as Kermit the Claw.

If Jimmy Casket got any of his secrets from his time with Kermit, it would include the ‘I have a knife!’ Secret (Since the claw is concealed). An actual secret of Kermit’s would be something more akin to hiding certain things he didn’t like in the desert. I dunno, he was a pretty mild dude before he was possessed so if I want to do a thing where Casket’s secrets are picked up from and remnants of people he’s possessed in the past, Kermit’s would be weirdly small or boring.

I’ll plan relationships later, I just realized this was a day late <3

Songs and Why

- Rainbow Connection by Kermit the Frog

“🎶 Have you been half asleep, and have you heard voices? I hear them calling my name… 🎶”

Two reasons: One, it’s funny; two, it’s kinda sad.

It’s funny because I’m trying to get away from Kermit the Claw being Kermit the Frog— just because I don’t want taleblr Kermit the frog to be a murderous Acachalla, but if this is a song associated with Kermit or even a voice claim for him, it’s like a connection I can’t escape. Which I find hilarious. This is my own story and I can’t even win hjdfsdfkjsghsl…

It’s sad because of the lyrics. Like, this is something that I think he’d actually play. In the situation of the original context, it’s kind of cute and beautiful, but taleblr Kermit is not in that context. When referring to hearing voices too many times to ignore, and how he’s supposed to be something, he’s not referring to being a grand inspirational figure, but a serial killer… It can’t get much worse than that. But it’s all packaged up in this cute little tune that he probably taught Maxwell to play. Pain and suffering on planet Nat.

[thephilosopheroffeelings]

Baby I'm a Fool

‘Starmer and co., who might as well be Tories. Indeed, Thatcher’s old mob like Haseltine, Ken Clarke, and even Major would be thrown out of Labour as being too left. Milk?’

'Yes,’ I said, and he handed me my cup of tea after adding a splash of milk.

We talked about the ongoing war in the Middle East. It is so refreshing to sit down and chat with a ‘white working-class Westerner’ who thinks exactly like you. This will be the topic of another post.

Then we started talking about conservative candidates. I talked to him about how Kemi Badenoch’s statement about cultures really bothered me.

He smiled and said, ‘It did not bother me much.’ I was clearly upset with this comment. I kept drinking my tea. He continued, ‘Most probably it bothered you more than it should because it comes from a female.’ We never got along on feminism as an ideology. He thinks there should not be a separate ‘female’ movement. Utter nonsense. Let me not divert from the topic.

Took a sip from his tea and added, ‘Just teasing. I know what you mean.’

I immediately got excited again, like a little puppy. And then we had an amazing chat about imperialism, post-colonialism, subaltern groups, consent (I will forever be obsessed with consent), and culture.

‘What really bothers me is that she seems like she does not know what she is subconsciously or consciously giving her consent to.’ I noted. Then we talked about Gramsci's (my favourite) and Chomsky’s ideas on the matter.

“The smart way to keep people passive and obedient is to strictly limit the spectrum of acceptable opinion but allow very lively debate within that spectrum—even encourage the more critical and dissident views. That gives people the sense that there's free thinking going on, while all the time the presuppositions of the system are being reinforced by the limits put on the range of the debate.” – Chomsky

With that statement, she was purely obedient to a strictly limited spectrum of acceptable opinion: Imperial, in relation to how she perceives cultures.

I cannot explain better than Edward Said the relationship between ‘culture’ and ‘imperial (politics)’:

“... the connection between imperial politics and culture is astonishingly direct. American attitudes to American "greatness," to hierarchies of race, and to the perils of "other" revolutions (the American revolution being considered unique and somehow unrepeatable anywhere else in the world) have remained constant, have dictated, have obscured the realities of empire, while apologists for overseas American interests have insisted on American innocence, doing good, fighting for freedom.

Every single empire in its official discourse has said that it is not like all the others, that its circumstances are special, that it has a mission to enlighten, civilise, bring order and democracy, and that it uses force only as a last resort. And, sadder still, there always is a chorus of willing intellectuals to say calming words about benign or altruistic empires, as if one shouldn't trust the evidence of one's eyes watching the destruction and the misery and death brought by the latest mission civilisatrice.

I emphasise in it [my Orientalism] accordingly that neither the term Orient nor the concept of the West has any ontological stability; each is made up of human effort, partly affirmation, partly identification of the Other.

No one today is purely one thing. Labels like Indian, or woman, or Muslim, or American are not more than starting points, which if followed into actual experience for only a moment are quickly left behind. Imperialism consolidated the mixture of cultures and identities on a global scale. But its worst and most paradoxical gift was to allow people to believe that they were only, mainly, exclusively, white, or black, or Western, or Oriental. Yet just as human beings make their own history, they also make their cultures and ethnic identities. No one can deny the persisting continuities of long traditions, sustained habitations, national languages, and cultural geographies, but there seems no reason except fear and prejudice to keep insisting on their separation and distinctiveness, as if that was all human life was about. Survival in fact is about the connections between things; in Eliot’s phrase, reality cannot be deprived of the “other echoes [that] inhabit the garden.” It is more rewarding—and more difficult—to think concretely and sympathetically, contrapuntally, about others than only about “us.” But this also means not trying to rule others, not trying to classify them or put them in hierarchies, and above all, not constantly reiterating how “our” culture or country is number one (or not number one, for that matter).

In a sense, the limitations of Orientalism are, as I said earlier, the limitations that follow upon disregarding, essentialising, denuding the humanity of another culture, people, or geographical region.

Always there lurks the assumption that although the Western consumer belongs to a numerical minority, he is entitled either to own or to expend (or both) the majority of the world resources. Why? Because he, unlike the Oriental, is a true human being. No better instance exists today of what Anwar Abdel Malek calls “the hegemonism of possessing minorities” and anthropocentrism allied with Europocentrism: a white middle-class Westerner believes it his human prerogative not only to manage the non-white world but also to own it, just because by definition “it” is not quite as human as “we” are. There is no purer example than this of dehumanised thought.

They weren't like us and, for that reason, deserved to be ruled.”

I finished my tea and asked him about the football team he supports. He looked away and said, ‘Utter rubbish!’ He sighed. I giggled. While wearing his coat, he grumpily mumbled about the last game they played. He finished his tea and looked outside from his tiny kitchen window: ‘Fancy a pint?’

I am still thinking about what really bothered me about her statement. I think what really bothered me is about timing of it. It has been said while the war is going on in the Middle East. While I wake up every day, check the news before work, and face the reality of a strictly limited spectrum of acceptable opinion: Imperial.

“We allow justly that the Holocaust has permanently altered the consciousness of our time: Why do we not accord the same epistemological mutation in what imperialism has done, and what Orientalism continues to do?” – Said

Politics is naturally all about inequality: Politics is not detached from psyche. Politics is not detached from identity. Politics is not detached from beliefs. Politics is not detached from geography. Politics is not detached from history. Politics is not detached from feelings. Politics is not detached from culture. Politics is not detached from daily life. Politics is not detached from trauma. Politics is not detached from fear. Politics is not detached from prejudice.

Politics is not detached from anything ‘human.’

It is a human creation in the end; how could it be?

I sometimes wish it was. I really do wish it was.

[uptownthots]

You were the one who tried to divide men as a class into individuals who are "innocent" and "guilty" parties. My point was there's no such thing as an individual that can opt out of being an oppressor just because they're educated. Maybe that's not what you meant, but that's how I interpreted it since you tried to move the ballpark to the actions of individuals, and so that's what I was responding to. When I say that men must stop reinforcing patriarchy I am speaking about them as a class on a societal level. 

I never changed my argument, you just aren't understanding it. It seems like you interpret "Male Loneliness Epidemic" as "the general concept of men feeling lonely", which I do not, and a lot of our disagreement about its "realness" comes from this difference in interpretation. The Epidemic(TM) defined as an experience unique and exclusive to men is not real because they are victims of ""Society"" as conceptualized as a wholly separate oppressive entity that exerts power over men is not real. The idea that men are capable of feelingly lonely is. If you cannot understand how these two statements are not synonymous I'm not sure how to help you. 

"you think recognition of a problem leading to suffering somehow absolves the people suffering from any part they had in it. im not claiming that. the people ive heard speaking of male loneliness arent claiming that."  Nope! I think "men don't know any better you need to educate them it's society's fault not theirs men can't do anything unless you help them" is an effort to absolve them of their part in their own suffering. Your anecdotal experiences are also as good as mine, because every person I've encountered who believes in The Epidemic(TM) is very hostile to the idea that men contribute to their own suffering under the patriarchy and refuse to acknowledge that the role men play in upholding patriarchal standards. That's literally the reason I made this post.

"many people will stop doing things if the harm of their actions is explained because they dont understand, know, or realize, and they need to be educated" / "its ridiculous to expect men to innately have an understanding of patriarchy and how all of their actions may or may not reinforce it." You're arguing with things I never said and every deliberately rewording my argument to fit your narrative, so I'll just reiterate: I said you can't educate people out of caring about people they deem to be less than human, which is a comment you very notably reworded as "caring about others" in general. I did NOT say "I expect men to innately have an understanding of patriarchy and how all of their actions may or may not reinforce it." Maybe it wouldn't be so exhausting to respond to if you actually engaged with the words that I said and not the ones you made up? 

What I DID say is that is that men can and do witness feminist discussion, and that men meet those discussions with violence and hostility. My point in saying this is is that men do NOT have an innate understanding of how the patriarchal structure works, no one does, but men have just as much access to educational resources as anyone else, there's an entire political movement to educating men on the harm their actions do, and it's weird to imply that lack of education is the problem when we can see for yourself that men DO engage with the education you're talking about, they just don't respond positively to it. If you get a group of men together and asked what they think of feminism and dismantling the patriarchy, you'll get more men with very strong antifeminist opinions than you will men who genuinely don't know what those things are. Men who hate women are not simply "uneducated", in the same way that transphobes who hate trans people or homophobes who hate gay people are not simply "uneducated." If you want to be pedantic, I'll concede and say sure! It's hypothetically possible for violent misogynists to become decent human beings, but I'm not really interested in arguing about hypotheticals. The educatioal resources exist, the people willing to educate exist, men just aren't engaging with it [in a positive way], and no one can force them to when they don't want to.

"you mischaracterize your initial post as something i would agree with" I've been saying "men are responsible for their own actions, and if they do not want to suffer under the patriarchy they must stop reinforcing it" this entire time. That's my point and I've reiterated it over and over again. That's what the anecdote about AITA is about. Are you fr?  This comment really tells me that you've hyperfixated on the comment I made about The Epidemic(TM) not being real, and are fighting tooth and nail about everything I've said because of it. Not sure what else to say about this but lol. lmao.

"if you actually wanted to pursue abolition of the patriarchy you would leverage this as a recruitment opportunity for disenfranchised men to have buy in to get rid of the system." insanely fucking weird comment. What is it with you oppressor defenders that your go-to is always "if you REALLY cared, you'd be trying to fix your oppressors!" Are you doing recruitment work for violent misogynists? Why aren't you doing that instead of arguing with me on Tumblr dot com because I said men are responsible for patriarchy in a way that hurt your feelings? I never said my post counts as work to dismantle anything. The implication that I can't REALLY care about "dismantling the patriarchy"  if I'm not centering men specifically is very bizarre.

Edit: I've grown tired of this discussion, it feels very circular and I think I'm not interested in having to correct you every time you make up an argument in your head instead of engaging with what I actually have to say. I think you're just coming at this from the perspective of someone who care about men as supposed "victims" of the patriarchy, and I am not and never will. Take this as your opportunity to follow your own advice and use the time and energy you'd be using replying to me to go "recruit" incels or other lonely misogynists. I'm sure you'll be met with open arms ^_^

already can't pretend to care about the male loneliness epidemic because it isn't real but listening to the way men actually talk about their friends/what they think friendship entails makes me care even less sorry

[shadowmaat]

it's all about (bad) faith

Bad Faithers really are one of the most tedious parts of online discussions. Either you make your point clear and they find ways to misinterpret what you did (or didn't) say in order to get offended, or you waste so much time covering every possible misinterpretation that your point gets lost in the shitfields... and Bad Faithers probably still find a way to be offended.

I've definitely gone the "trying to cover every base" route before, but it's exhausting and ultimately doesn't help. People looking for a reason to be angry are going to be angry no matter what.

A subset of Bad Faithers are the Cinnamon Rolls; people who belong to a group (usually fandom related) who feel as if their group is wrongfully maligned and has never done a single bad thing, ever. I can think of multiple groups whose reputation is so absolutely toxic that even people who've never seen the media in question have heard of them.

According to the Cinnamon Rolls, however, there ARE no toxic people or they're just outliers and should not be counted. Everyone is just mean and treating them poorly for no reason. The "not ALL fans" argument is so fucking obnoxious.

If your fangroup has a bad reputation it's for a reason. I don't think any group is completely pure and innocent, but the bigger your fandom gets the more toxic it becomes. That doesn't mean EVERYONE is bad, FFS, but it does mean the "good" ones are going to have a much tougher time of things. Is it fair? Nope. But that's currently how the system works. Any efforts to change that cannot involve attacking others.

The reason that bad apples spoil the whole bunch is because prolonged exposure to the bad ones will eventually spread to the good ones. If you're a "good" fan but you're attacking people for hating your group that means you've picked up some of the taint of the bad ones. Does it mean you shouldn't defend yourself? No. But if you defend yourself by lashing out then you're just proving all the negative things being said about your group. If you go out of your way to stir up shit and attempt to pick fights then congratulations: you've become one of the bad apples.

Honestly the whole thing about "don't feed the trolls" can apply here as well. If you see people spouting bullshit (or what you believe is bullshit) about your fangroup, don't engage. Or at the very least choose your fights carefully and don't sink to nasty tactics even if- especially if- they're employing them themselves. Nothing you say is likely to convince them that they're wrong- just as nothing they say is likely to convince you that you're wrong.

I've certainly beat my head against the Wall of Obstinacy before, but I'm learning that it's better to do it for my own peace of mind than in any actual attempt to sway opinions or "prove" that someone else is wrong. If it's enough to put balm on my own irritation then that's all I really need. Then I can move on to the next thing. As I'm doing now.

[missmentelle]

How do I know if I'm being gaslit? What does that mean?

If you are experiencing “gaslighting”, it means that someone is intentionally trying to make you feel like you are irrational and insane. They will try to convince you that you can’t trust your own judgement, even about things that you experienced firsthand. The internet tends to use the term ‘gaslighting’ to describe any kind of lying or arguing, but it’s a lot more complicated than that - when you are being gaslit, it means someone is going out of their way to make you feel like you’re the crazy one who causes all the conflict in the relationship when in reality, it’s the other way around. A person who lies about liking your new haircut or starts an argument with you about whose turn it is to do the dishes is probably not gaslighting you - gaslighting is intentional, repeated, and specifically aimed at undermining your sanity and emotional stability. It is a pattern of abuse, and by definition, it can be very difficult to recognize and escape from. 

Examples of gaslighting include things like:

Insisting that things did not happen the way you remember them, even if you have proof. Maybe you and the abuser had an argument over WhatsApp yesterday, and they called you a slur. You definitely remember that this happened, because it was devastating for you, and you took screenshots in case they deleted the message. But when you confront the other person about what they said, they flat-out deny that it ever happened - in fact, they have no idea where this is coming from, and they feel insulted that you would accuse them of such a horrible thing. They didn’t do that. They’ve never done that. In fact, there was no argument. You made the whole thing up in your head. It doesn’t matter that you have screenshots - they don’t want to see them, because they know that you are totally misunderstanding what’s in them, just like you always do. When you’re being gaslit, the gaslighter doesn’t care about reality. They will flat-out deny what happened and create a new version of events that puts them in a better light, and they’ll insist that you are the one with the faulty memory for not remembering it that way. Even with evidence right in front of their faces, they’ll stick to their guns and say that you are completely inventing things. 

Constantly insisting that you overreact and blow things out of proportion. Maybe you saw a notification on your partner’s phone the other day, and you realize that they’ve been texting other people on a dating app. You are obviously very upset about the situation, and you aren’t sure if you even want to stay in the relationship. But instead of apologizing, your partner begins to get angry with you for how upset you are - they insist that you are blowing this completely out of proportion, that you’re being a huge drama queen, that you’re being manipulative and attention-seeking, and that it’s completely insane for you to be upset. Any time you are upset with the other person for genuinely hurting or harming you in some way, they flip everything around - all of a sudden, the conversation becomes focused on how unstable and dramatic you are, and the abuser’s wrongdoing is totally forgotten. The abuser paints a consistent picture of you as someone who freaks out over absolutely nothing and completely overreacts. 

Playing up your existing mental illness or insisting that you are mentally ill. Your abuser sees signs of mental illness in everything you do. If you have a history of mental illness, they’ll insist that it’s coming back - if you don’t have a history of mental illness, they’ll invent a new mental illness for you out of whole cloth. Did you get upset because your partner screamed at you? That’s not normal, you’re having huge mood swings and you’re definitely bipolar. Did you stick up for yourself when your partner was trying to control you? That’s definitely not normal, you’re acting just like this person they knew who had severe BPD. Whenever you are upset about the way you’re being treated or just refusing to be controlled, your abuser will play the mental illness card - suddenly, they are the hard-worn, loving caretaker and you are the very sick person who refuses to let them help you. Sometimes, when you are getting especially angry about your partner’s mistreatment, they may flip a switch and go from yelling at you to acting like your caretaker in an instant - they’ll start pleading with you to get help, offering to drive you to the hospital, and begging you to understand that you aren’t well and that they’re just so worried about you. The point, of course, is to completely undermine you as a person; they want you to believe that you are seriously mentally ill and incapable of understanding what’s real and what isn’t. 

Positioning themselves as the innocent “victim” in the relationship, even when they are the one mistreating you. To an outside observer, you are the one constantly being terrorized by someone who criticizes and controls you. But your gaslighter doesn’t want you to see it that way - according to them, they are the innocent victim who has to tiptoe around your constant unpredictable mood swings. They’ll claim that they try so hard to help you and avoid setting you off, but you’re just so unreasonable - they may even claim that you are the one abusing them. Any time you fight back, stand up for yourself or have a negative reaction to their abuse, they will find a way to frame things so that your response is the real issue, and not the abuse that provoked it. If they pinned you against a wall and you pushed them off you to get away, they will flip the narrative on you - they’ll swear up and down that they were just gently trying to keep you from hurting yourself when you violently attacked them. Somehow, every confrontation you have about your partner’s bad behaviour turns into you apologizing and feeling bad, even when you went into the conversation being pretty sure that you did nothing wrong. 

Intentionally turning friends and loved ones against you. A gaslighter will sometimes try to recruit your friends and family to “their” side, turning them against you. They will tell your loved ones all about your supposed mood swings, “mental health issues” and how difficult you are being, in an effort to win sympathy and destroy your credibility. The idea is that when you turn to your friends to say “my partner freaked out on me over something small last night”, they’ll respond with “mmmm, your partner already told us this story and they gave a very different version of what happened. It sounds like you’re leaving a lot out to make yourself sound better. Your partner says you’ve been acting weird lately, what’s going on with you?” It’s much easier to warp someone’s perception of reality if you can convince their friends and family to reinforce the fake reality that you’ve created. 

Dramatically misrepresenting your motives. A gaslighter will find ways to “prove” that you’re the kind of person they say you are, regardless of what you do. Even if you do something nice for them, they can find ways to twist things to suit their narrative. Did you buy them an expensive birthday present because you care about them? You’re clearly being manipulative and trying to bribe them somehow. Did you clean the whole house for them because you wanted them to be able to enjoy coming home to a clean living space? Nonsense, this was clearly you being passive-aggressive and trying to shame them for not being as clean as you. Your actions end up not mattering - no matter how hard you to try to prove that you aren’t the difficult, terrible person that your gaslighter says you are, they will always find ways to misrepresent your motives and lie about your intentions so they can turn your innocent behaviour into whatever they want it to be. 

Being gaslighted is an immensely stressful experience - it’s designed to make you feel crazy, and if you’re subjected to it for a long time, that’s exactly what will happen. It’s unbelievably stressful to be in a position where you feel like you cannot trust your own mind or make rational decisions. And when that stress inevitably starts to affect your mental health, that becomes further evidence that your abuser is correct and that you’re the crazy one. It can be extraordinarily difficult for a victim of long-term gaslighting to escape from their situation, because they genuinely start to believe that they are the problem in the relationship and that they’re lucky anyone will put up with them. 

If you suspect you are being gaslit, there are some things you can do to recognize the issue and break free from it:

Keep meticulous records. Write down the details of conversations and arguments as soon as they happen. Record fights with the audio recorder on your phone. Take and save screenshots of important conversations. Save voicemails. Keep a diary with dates and times of events. Nobody has perfect recall, but if your partner’s version of events consistently doesn’t match your hard evidence in a major way, that’s a pretty good sign that they are twisting the truth to suit their needs.

Talk to a neutral third party. Talk to someone outside the relationship that your partner doesn’t have access to - this could be a friend, a coworker, a neighbour, anyone that you feel you can trust. Turn to an internet group or forum if you have to. Show them the evidence you’ve collected or talk to them about what’s happening, and get a neutral perspective. People who have not been exposed to your gaslighter’s charms will be able to tell you pretty quickly that your situation is not normal. 

Think about your past relationships. Have any of your past relationships followed the same patterns as your current one? Has anyone in your past made similar complaints about you? If your last relationship didn’t have these kinds of issues, there’s a good chance that the new person in your life is the problem - not you.

Trust your gut. If you get the sense that something isn’t quite right, don’t ignore those feelings. Remember, you don’t actually have to be certain that you’re being gaslighted to justify leaving the relationship - if your relationship frequently causes you stress and anxiety or makes you feel like you can’t be yourself, something is seriously wrong and it may be time to go.

It’s also a good idea to talk to a mental health professional or a domestic abuse expert if you suspect you are being gaslighted - they are experts at helping your recognize it and come up with strategies to have healthier relationships in the future.

Hope this answers your question!

MM

[arunswild]

Absolutely, it makes me more susceptible to propaganda, but I also have a more nuanced view of the situation because I'm experiencing it myself. Also, needless to say, my knowledge of Israeli history, Hebrew, Arabic and Jewish studies is definitely better and more thorough than most Americans, making it easier for me to see the historical side of things, read more sources from BOTH sides, and speak to more people. And I don't want to say that I'm more entitled to an opinion, because that sounds stupid, but actually I kind of am?

Except, your point is weak in the first place, because the fact that not ALL the Jews were exterminated doesn't really mean that we should sit around waiting for it to happen. The fact that miraculously some people survived doesn't mean that there's no need for a Jewish home. It's great, but it doesn't cancel out the need for a home base.

Well, I'm sorry, do you know what my friends, family and community have been doing for almost a year? Showing up, every single weekend, by the thousands, in front of Netanyahu's house, protesting his insane actions and demanding that he resign. We've literally sued the government. The fight we've been putting up is actually insane. There were multiple attempts to impeach him, there were multiple attempts to restrain him, he's being tried for multiple crimes, his government was sued this summer, none of it worked (some attempts to restrain him did, but not enough). Anyway, I don't even remember why we brought the Likud up because Netanyahu made it very clear he would not support any renewed Jewish settlement in Gaza.

Don't be ridiculous. The Zionist return to Israel began in 1881, and although there were some tensions, the earlier settlers admired the Palestinian Arabs, they employed them constantly and made huge efforts to learn Arabic and communicate with them. Almost all of the settlements were built on disgusting land the Ottomans sold them. The first armed Jewish groups were formed in response to highway robbers who would attack merchants. Later on settlers tried to boycott Arab workers for ideological reasons, but their boycott failed. Obviously things were tense, but not tense enough to justify ANY of what was done after, under the British. Breaking into family homes, splitting open skulls (???), attacking hospitals, and looting and burning ENTIRE VILLAGES. That's not self defense, because they weren't hurting the belligerents (who, by the way, were not innocent either). They also weren't reacting to anything, because they started the attack. Peace was not attempted before 1900. Duh. Who exactly would mediate what? The Jewish population was miniscule and weak, the Arab Israeli population didn't have an entirely developed national consciousness yet (because Israel wasn't its own province in the Ottoman Empire, it was part of the Syrian province. The idea of the borders of Israel the way they are now is based on the Jewish tradition) and the Ottoman's were trying to keep their collapsing empire together and probably couldn't care less about negotiating peace. What they did care about was limiting Jewish immigration to Palestine, but that's unrelated. However, and this is interesting because rarely anyone knows this, Peace WAS attempted after, under British rule in 1919. It nearly worked, too, except a bunch of stuff messed it up, including both sides disagreeing with regards to a caveat added after the treaty was signed. The agreement was signed by a representative of the Zionist organization who later became the first Israeli president, and the king of Iraq and also technically of Syria. The agreement was for the future Arab and Jewish states to work together to encourage immigration, protect the peasants and the holy sites and develop the economy of both states. Point being, even before the two state solution which was rejected twice by the Arabs, peace was attempted and almost achieved. I probably won't reply if you do, I'm absolutely swamped. Sorry.

These kinds of comments really bug me because it's so clear how confused the person who wrote them is.

So let me clear this up for you, @nagashii

Israel has not stolen Palestinian culture. Of all the ridiculous claims you could make, this one is probably the most silly because it's absolutely meaningless. I'd love to hear what cultural things you think we "stole", but I'm just letting you know that whatever you think it is, you're wrong. I'm not gonna bother elaborating

You're making a very important distinction between Jews and Israel, which is great except you screwed it up. You are assuming that the existence of Jews is not dependent on the existence of Israel, while ignoring the fact that the REASON Israel exists is to protect the Jewish people. Even if there's a very Jewish person who has no interest in Israel, Israel has helped them in more ways than you can imagine. Israel gives money and aid to Jewish community and it's also gained the right to prosecute people who commit antisemitic hate crimes in other countries. So you can say that Jews are okay but Israel needs to die, but you're basically saying Jews need to die, which is, obviously, antisemitic and disgusting.

Israel doesn't have genocidal ideals, don't be idiotic. If Israel wanted to commit genocide, believe me, there would be no humanitarian aid, no warnings, no attempts to evacuate gazans. The IDF has absolutely no interest in harming anyone who isn't part of Hamas, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. The fact that Hamas uses its civilians as human shields makes this incredibly hard. I know people who are currently fighting in Gaza. Trust me, killing more people is the last thing they want. Obviously there are some morons who want to kill everyone and take Gaza back, but they're idiots and nobody really gives a shit what they think because they're being childish and narrow. Those few people do not represent Israel.

The Jewish people are absolutely and completely entitled to have a country of their own, and the fact that Israel was the land chosen has not only Historical and Traditional but also Legal reasons. I'll reblog this with links to useful explanations. As I said, Israel is essential to the continued existence of the Jewish people which means that yes, we are entitled to it. Absolutely. Whether or not all the actions of the Israeli government are okay is a completely different story. The botton line is that Israel must and will continue to exist.

Hope this helps.