#still have this mindset on other axes

[sapsolais]

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[moesartblog]

I’m gonna rant in the tags and then delete this but People on this site are starting once again to put WAY too much faith in the electoral college system

[little-diable]

For Valhalla – Spencer Reid (smut)

Trying to pull myself out of my writing slump by writing history inspired stuff. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Reader helps Spencer with understanding the medieval norse warrior mindset, which finally pushes the two friends closer together.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, spanking, dom!Spencer, some mirror action, friends to lovers, some history talk about medieval wars and fighting

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!historian!reader (2.3k words)

“Careful.” Her whispers filled the dimly lit training room, eyes concentrated on his nimble fingers. She watched Spencer tighten his grip on the hilt of her sword, knuckles almost white. “Widen your stance a bit.”

“Even wider?” Spencer’s eyes were burning holes into her skin, waiting for her next command. He wasn’t one for holding back, and could barely contain his information-dumping urges, but with her it was different. This was (y/n)’s field of expertise, the only one he could blindly trust with a situation this delicate. 

“Can I touch you to show you how?” The two had known one another since their university days, sharing every break, and every meal with one another, until they had eventually shared an apartment for a while. Something had always buzzed between them, something both had been too scared to give in to back then.

Something that was still buzzing now, all these years later.

“Yes.” Their eyes met as Spencer spoke the word, leaving her to swallow heavily. (Y/n) was no stranger to Spencer’s struggles with being touched, and yet his willingness to be touched by her weighed heavier than either one of them liked to admit. 

Slowly, (y/n) placed herself behind Spencer. With one hand placed on his right shoulder and the other on his waist, she gently kicked his feet apart. She felt him sink into the warrior stance, trying to make room for the mindset their current unsub was undoubtedly trapped in. 

“Perfect,” (y/n) whispered. “Now I want you to close your eyes. If your unsub is thinking of himself as a Norðmaðr, a man from the North, or a Viking as others called them, he must protect his sword at every cost. Some believe a warrior could only enter Valhalla if they held onto their sword while dying. It’s an old lore we don’t have many sources on, but judging your unsub I’d say he is focused on things he saw in shows or games. Try to imagine yourself on a battlefield. It was loud, you’d hear cries, the sounds of horses, of swords and axes clashing. You’d smell blood, perhaps some rain depending on the month. Sweat would cling to you, and dirt, soil or mud.” 

“That sounds like my nightmare.” Both broke out in chuckles as (y/n) let go of Spencer almost reluctantly. She watched him move, handling the sword like she had demonstrated for the past hour. He wasn’t nearly as graceful as she was, and yet he managed to copy her movements perfectly. 

“What do you think he tries to live out with this?” Asking questions about his cases had always been a struggle, Spencer would either be very vague or simply tell (y/n) that he couldn’t share any information. But today it was different, today she was part of their team, at least for a few hours, as a historian, a consultant to try and help them find their unsub. 

“Pent up anger, frustration, and yet he is trying to be honourable with his killings, he feels like a Viking after all.” A hum left her at his reply. This time (y/n) didn’t ask for permission as she stepped towards Spencer once again. 

“Let’s try something.” She reached for the sword he was gripping. (Y/n) took her stance, making it seem all too effortlessly, “Stand behind me, place your hands on top of mine.”

It took Spencer a moment to snap into motion, he exhaled before he followed the command. Gently, he placed his warm hand on top of (y/n)’s, shooting shudders down her spine with the simple touch. An all too familiar electricity was binding the two closer together, wrapping itself around them as if it were some kind of invisible force managing to guide the two.

“It’s a simple movement, but it takes a lot of strength to make the sword move as effectively and quickly as this.” Spencer tried to focus on (y/n)’s words, but he couldn’t, too taken up by her unfamiliar closeness. His body was taken over by whatever he had tried to suppress these past years, forcing him even closer to her. “Spencer? Are you alright?”

No word left him as he tightened his grip on her hand. Spencer could almost hear her heart racing in her chest, pounding against her ribcage as if it was begging to be freed. And who was he to deny such a strong muscle such a strong wish? 

His lips found the exposed spot where her shoulder met her neck, kissing it as if they had done this numerous times before. Both froze at the unfamiliar touch, giving the inferno starting to stretch itself through the two enough room to grow. She shuddered in his grasp, trying to stop herself from dropping the sword to turn around towards Spencer.

“Spence,” (y/n) choked on his nickname as he pressed another kiss to her soft skin. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done years ago.” Perhaps it had taken some convincing from his friends, urging him to finally cross that invisible line between him and (y/n). And as much as Spencer had tried to ignore their pestering selves when it came to (y/n) and him, he hadn’t been able to drown them out completely, forced to accept his feelings for his friend. 

(Y/n) pushed herself away from him, forcing Spencer to panic for a second. He watched her place the sword down, only to turn fully towards him. Their eyes held contact, wordlessly communicating with their hearts on their tongues and their adrenaline spiking. 

Neither of them knew who moved first, but while their eyes held contact, their bodies crossed the small distance between them, letting their lips clash together. Their eyes fluttered close, hands holding onto one another while their lips moved in sync. They were eager, desperate to explore their newfound territory as if it was their only chance at doing this.

Their road to Valhalla, the last battle to fight before calmness could swap through them. 

Spencer moved them backwards, pressing (y/n) against the wall as his tongue ran along her lower lip, begging for entrance. The kiss left the two drowning in their longings, forgetting how to breathe as they finally got to experience what they had been dreaming of. It felt surreal almost – if it weren’t for their racing hearts and their excitement flushing through them. 

“Can I?” He mumbled his question against her lips, giving the two a moment to catch their breaths. Spencer’s fingers tugged on the fabric of her loose shirt, waiting for her consent before he got to explore her body. Ever since he had been forced to talk about his feelings to his team members, he had tried to picture this moment, praying that he wouldn’t mess this up, that his nervousness wouldn’t push him away from her. But now he felt awfully calm, set on touching her, on making her feel the same excitement he was held hostage by. 

“Of course, Spence.” Their eyes met as he pulled the shirt over her head, sports bra following seconds later. (Y/n) felt exposed, fighting against the need to cover herself up as his twinkling eyes studied her soft skin, shooting her a gaze that made heat pool between her thighs. 

Spencer was careful with his touches, cupping her breasts with his warm hands as his mouth found her throat. He kissed his way down to her chest as if he was mapping her body with his kisses, remembering every inch, every mark, forever ingrained into his racing mind. She was trembling against him, allowing her hands to move to his button up, needing to uncovering his body to distract herself from her nervousness. 

“You’re so perfect, I should have done this before. I am sorry it took me this long.” His whispers left her gasping, arching against his hold as his mouth found her left breast, sucking on the hardening nipple. 

“I don’t know if I can forgive you for that,” it was nothing but teasing, and yet the words got stuck in her throat as he let go of her, staring down at (y/n) with something dangerous twinkling in his eyes.

Spencer looked at her for a handful of seconds before he turned her around, allowing (y/n) to catch her reflection in the mirror he had pressed her against. Her pupils were dilated, she was heavily breathing, hair slightly tousled. But (y/n) didn’t get any time to speak up, to comment on what she was seeing. 

His eyes found hers in the mirror as he pulled her sweatpants down her legs, letting his hand brush over her panties-clad behind. (Y/n) could only choke on her gasp as he raised his hand, letting it come down on her warm skin a second later. The sound of Spencer spanking her echoed through the room, followed by a soft moan clawing through (y/n). 

“Let me promise you something, sweetheart,” Spencer murmured his words while his hand brushed over the spot he had just spanked. “I’ll fuck that attitude right out of your system.” 

Another spank met her behind, and another, till her eyes fell shut and her sweaty palms struggled to stay pressed against the mirror. Arousal was dripping from her tightness, clinging to her inner thighs, telling Spencer everything he needed to know. She was just as desperate for him, begging to be finally fucked, pushed over the edge by the tall profiler who had always been her closest friend, the one she clung to, the one she dreamt of. 

“I don’t have anything on me.” His words ripped her out of her hazy thoughts, having to blink a few times as she tried to find her words. 

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.” (Y/n) watched his tongue dart out, licking along his lower lip as he pondered over her words. She knew Spencer got monthly tests, knew that she could blindly trust him, but knowing that she was about to feel him bare filled her with something raw simmering inside of her, something possessive almost. Only as the sound of Spencer undoing his trousers rang in her ears did she allow herself to close her eyes once again, having to collect herself. This was finally happening, something she had dreamt of, something she had never dared to even speak about. 

“I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” His raspy voice buzzed through (y/n), forcing another moan out of her. They held eye contact as Spencer spat into his palm, lubed himself up, and finally pushed into her. A moan clawed through them in unison, needing a few moments to adjust before he began to fuck her from behind. 

Spencer had a tight grip on her waist, set on leaving marks as he fucked her ruthlessly, hitting the spot that made her toes curl with every thrust. Both were a moaning mess, chasing their needs, the deep urges they finally got to live out, while studying one another through the mirror. 

(Y/n) struggled to form words, struggled to comment on what she was seeing, fully entranced by the sight. She already looked thoroughly fucked out, close to giving in after only a few moments. But something was binding them together, a sensation so strong it felt as if they were fighting for Valhalla, fighting for entry into the afterlife they were oh so close to. 

“Spencer,” (y/n) moaned his name, she tried to push herself further into his touch, needing to be even closer to the man who was about to push her orgasm through her aching body. “You feel so good, fuck, I never want to be fucked by somebody else.”

It was a sincere confession, words that left the profiler smirking in success. He leaned forward to press a kiss to her shoulder, letting his teeth graze her skin to leave another mark to remind (y/n) that she was now his, a part of his body and soul. 

“As if I’d ever let you go again. No other man will ever get to touch you.” His words dripped with possessiveness, words that made her walls clench around his cock. (Y/n) couldn’t stop her eyes from fluttering close as his fingertips found her pulsing bundle, circling it with enough pressure to push her into her high. 

She moaned for him as she came, unable to stop the sounds from leaving her while Spencer kept fucking her. Their bodies kept meeting, even faster than before, forcing (y/n) to realise that she’d struggle with walking for the next days. Only as Spencer pulled out of her to paint her aching behind white did she open her eyes again. 

“That was,” she panted her words, not daring to move as Spencer kept smirking at her through the mirror. “Fuck, that was intense.”

“I love you.” The words clawed through Spencer as if he hadn’t given them much thought, speaking them all too effortlessly. (Y/n) froze for a second or two before she gave room to the soft chuckle desperate to leave her. 

“I love you too, Spence.” Perhaps they were Valhalla-bound after all, set on living together in every life offered to them. 

[your-averagewriter]

Hi,

Can I please request a young!Haymitch x reader where they’re both in the 50th Hunger Games and they team up and there’s like romantic tension (+ some rivals to lovers) and they end up having a steamy make out please?

Word count: 3.4K (I got so carried away here.)

Warnings: Blood, weapons, murder, death, usual Hunger Games warnings, kissing, make out session.

“I think we should work together.” I say, planting myself down on the seat in front of Haymitch.

“And why would we work together?” He says, bringing the fork full of food to his mouth.

“There’s gonna be 48 kids in that arena, do you really want to go in there alone?” I ask him.

“Why would I team up with you?” He asks as if I’m disgusting.

“You know me.” He looks at me unconvinced. “Well, sort of know me. Know of me then.” I correct. “We’re from the same district, similar age and I’ve got a good set of skills. I could be a good asset to you.” I say, with less confidence than I intended as this boy towers over me, even sitting down.

“What skills do you have?” He asks, still doubtful and rightly cautious of me.

“I can track, animals or people. I can identify most if not all plants and roots and I can prepare them for eating. I can also hunt with minimal tools, I only need a blade, the size doesn’t matter.” I say with a smile, content with my pitch.

“And you want to be allies?” He asks.

“Yes. You and me until the final five or six.”

“If we get that far…” He chimes in.

“Yes… If we get that far.” I sigh. “So, what do you think?”

“I’ll work with you but I’m not gonna put myself in danger for you.” He says, with a dark, snarky tone.

“Okay.” I say and chuckle slightly nervously. Having Haymitch with me not only offers me a bit more protection but company and companionship.

“In training tomorrow we can figure out more of a strategy and how this is gonna work.” He says signalling to the two of us. I nod, happy that he’s changed his mindset.

“I’ll see you then.” I say, hopping up from my seat, grabbing a bread roll and leaving the room but not before Haymitch stops me.

“Also, this is exclusive.” He signals to us again. “Don’t go partnering up or inviting other people.” He says and I nod before leaving the room.

------------

“(y/n).” I hear someone whisper as I enter the training room. Slightly overwhelmed by the sight of masses of armed kids in the room and the loud noises they’re all making I turn around, slightly stressed looking for the voice. “(y/n).” I hear again although slightly louder this time and I manage to clock the direction of the voice. Turning to face the voice I’m met with Haymitch sat on one of the benches sharpening a set of knives.

“Hey.” I say quietly, walking over with a smile and sitting next to him. “What are these for?” I ask.

“You. I wanna see how good you are with them.” He says, focusing on the blades.

“I thought we were going to plan a strategy.” I say, confused.

“We can’t plan a strategy if we don’t know what each others’ skills are.” 

“Okay.” I say and he stands up, gripping the knives.

“C’mon.” He says and I follow him blindly towards one of the stations. We move to stand by the throwing mark, luckily the station is unoccupied. “Go on then.” He says passing me three blades for the three targets.

I step forward to stand on the throwing line and take a deep breath before preparing the blades. Each one I throw hits right in the centre of the target (the meaning on the target has taken on a much darker meaning after being thrown in these Games). I turn around to see Haymitch with a small smirk on his face causing a hint of a smile to emerge from mine.

“I told you I could hunt.” I say and tries to suppress his smile.

“You did. Okay, you’ve held up your end of the deal, my turn now.” He says and I follow him again through the training room to the weapons rack. Collecting an axe he walks over to a different station to present his skills.

He prepares to throw and hits the bullseye quite impressively and I cheer for him despite him looking back at me with a scowl which only makes me chuckle. It’s funny how an action so small can make you forget about having to fight to the death. 

“That was impressive, where’d you learn that?” I ask.

“I didn’t ask where you learnt to hunt in a district lacking in nature so don’t ask me where I learnt my shit.” I’m taken aback by his response and the abrasiveness of it.

“Sorry.” I say quietly and trail behind him again, suddenly all too aware of the eyes following us.

“It’s fine.” He says reluctantly, the depth of his voice finally revealed. “Let’s just get on with the strategy.”

The next few hours were spent either eating (lunchtime) or spent planning for the arena: tactics, plans, strategy, weapons, everything. Luckily during our planning session he relaxed a little and we ate lunch together (separate to the other tributes, there’s no point getting to know people who we’re gonna kill or will get killed).

-------------

Today’s the interview day which means a day packed full of fancy clothing and fake smiles. Every year we’re forced to watch the Hunger Games and nothing feels more fake than the interviews. This year because it’s a Quarter Quell and there’s double the number of tributes we’ve been paired with another from our District so Haymitch and I are getting interviewed together. 

I’m smothered in perfumes and fragrances and a dress is fitted to me, needles prodded in me on multiple occasions. It’s a fairly horrendous dress - it’s black and form fitting with trails of rock  like material symbolising the coal mines of District 12. I’ve got red lipstick and a fairly generous amount of blush.My hair is pulled back and pinned as tight as they could without pulling it and similar black “gems” are dotted on my head.

Rolling my eyes, I walk out of the dressing room to go and meet Haymitch (who is hopefully dressed better than me but I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re matching) in the tribute queue. I walk through the corridor and curse the black gems stuck to my eyelid preventing me from blinking without them irritating me.

I find the queue and look for Haymitch.

“Haymitch?” I question, craning my neck to see down the line.

“Down here!” I hear him say, sticking his hand out from the line, waving.

I make my way down the line, careful to look out for Haymitch as I trail past the districts, a slight wobble in my step because of the unnecessarily large heels.

“Hey.” I say, finally reaching the end of the line, tripping slightly at the end on my dress but mostly because of my heels.

Haymitch reaches his arms out grabbing onto my hands so I don’t properly fall over. I feel his warm palms against mine and manage to restabilize myself.

“Thanks.” I say, letting out a sigh of relief.

“You look… beautiful.” He says, looking up at me and still holding onto my hands just a little more gently.

“Really? I hate the dress.” I say looking down but luckily the excessive blush covers my natural blush. “The lumpy bits are so tacky.” I say, looking at the things that are meant to represent coals.

“Okay, maybe not the rocky parts…” He says trailing off with a chuckle.

“I can’t believe you don’t have these stupid rock things on your suit, that’s so not fair!” I say and he finally releases my hands to straighten his tie. “You’ve only got the little gems on your tie!” I point out and cross my arms in frustration.

“It’ll be fine. We’re last anyway so most people will have stopped paying attention by then so no one will even care.”

“You don’t think anyone will watch?” I ask, slightly down about it and he seems to ponder the question. “How will we get any sponsors?” I say, disheartened.

“I’m sure our scores of 9 and 10 will help there.” He says with a small smirk referencing our private training sessions that were assessed.

“We did pretty well.” I say.

“Now, you’ve just gotta look pretty and answer their questions with a smile. Shouldn’t be too hard.” He smirks.

“Only if you turn on the charisma and show everyone your dashing smile. Maybe then we’ll get sponsors.” I already have a smile on my face.

“You’re making this too easy to win.” He replies, a smirk planted on his face.

-----------

After a successful interview filled with smiles and sponsors and small flirtatious comments we finally got to sleep, ready for what the next day had coming: The 50th Hunger Games.

I wake up the next morning and after choking down some bread and butter we’re all sent straight to our prep teams then off to the arena.

I get to talk to Haymitch once more before we’re thrown into the arena so it’s our last chance to finalise our plans.

“As soon as we get in the arena you don’t go for the Cornucopia - I’ll grab what I can from the outskirts before meeting you by the edge of the forest or whatever it is, the edge of the Cornucopia. Got it?” He asks, holding onto my hands and emphasising the plan. I try to listen to him but the nerves make it harder and harder by the second.

“Y-yeah.” I manage to breathe out but I can feel my heart thumping in my throat.

“You sure?” He asks, aware of what I’m feeling, at least partially.

“I’ve got it. Basically run.” I say trying a smile but only managing to upturn the edges of my lips. He nods and grips onto my shoulders grounding me before we’re separated.

In my tube (separate from Haymitch) I can’t help a hopeless feeling overwhelm me before we start rising. Finally in the arena, I survey the area, it’s woodland which optimises both our skill sets and offers us resources. My eyes scan across the tributes, searching for Haymitch, he’s a little less than half way around the circle of tributes meaning our positioning could be better but it could be worse.

Looking behind me I check for possible meeting points before spotting a backpack which we were told includes a water bottle, rope, a small weapon (likely to be a knife) and possibly a sort of medicine, bandages or food. My mind replays the conversation I just had with Haymitch about running but the bag is so alluring. Our chances could be greatly increased by the contents of that bag so I make the decision as the countdown starts to race to grab the bag before running.

The clock is counting down and as it reaches the lower numbers I prepare to launch myself off the podium but I’m careful not to step off before the countdown is up.

As soon as I hear the gun fire I dart off of the podium towards the bag keeping an eye on the tributes around me. A lot of them ran but because there’s a greater number of tributes a greater number ran towards the Cornucopia including, surprisingly, me.

Sprinting across the field I feel my heart thumping in my chest, terrified of the prospects of a battle but desperate for the chances the backpack could provide. I get to the bag and reach for it, wrapping my fingers around the straps and hoisting it onto my back before shooting back away, towards the treeline but I feel someone’s hands on my shoulders pushing me to the ground. I fall and knowing it’s not Haymitch I try to roll over and squirm away only to be met with the smirking face of one of the District 4 boys. My chances at life diminish as time goes on and I feel the tears fall down my cheeks as he makes mocking remarks and motions, shoving a knife in my face - playing with me. I try to move out of his way but he has me pinned down by my shoulders and he’s sat on my torso, legs around my waist.

I try to push him off and when he budges, falling off of me I know that it can’t have been because of me. He’s at least twice the size of me, at worst three times.

I look around and shuffle backwards hurriedly trying to remove myself from his grasp. Once I’m out of his reach I turn around to see him being tackled by another boy who then knocks him out but I’m not sure whether he’s dead or not as there’s so many cannons going off it’s hard to tell who's is who's. Now scared of this unknown boy who just beat up my attacker I shuffle further, stumbling as I try to get to my feet but he turns around to reveal a familiar face. Haymitch. I let out a small sigh of relief before he’s running back towards me, grabbing at my arms and yelling at me to run.

I shake my head, slightly, snapping back into the Games realising that these moments define our lives or our deaths. He grabs hold of my arm and I’m careful to grip onto the bag as we run. We make it to the treeline and I watch him turn his head quickly, looking for the other tributes but he makes sure to keep it brief and turns, pulling me into the woodland with him.

We run for what feels like forever but could’ve only been a matter of minutes. There’s no noises other than that of the cannons and our fast breathing, and I swear that I can hear his heart beating over mine. His hand remains securely lodged in mine, careful not to release me as we make our way further into the forest, for I’m not sure how much longer.

After a few more minutes, Haymitch’s pace slows down and I’m glad it does because my lungs feel like they’re gonna explode.

He slowly lets go of my hand as we draw to a stop in a grassy, wooded area. Immediately, I fall to the floor, on my hands and knees to try and catch my breath whilst he stands leaning over, his hands on his knees, gasping like I am. Whilst I can run, I’ve never run like that before.

Dumping the backpack beside me I notice that Haymitch has a large cut on his calf. I quickly open the backpack, desperate to see that it was worthwhile running for the bag. I start pulling items out of it: a rope, water bottle, small set of knives, a bundle of bandages and a wound cleaning kit. I sit back on my heels and feel a sense of relief as I make my way towards Haymitch. 

“S-” I swallow, clearing my throat. “Sit down, please.” I say quietly, still struggling with my breath.

He sits down on the grassy floor and I shuffle towards him, preparing to clean and bandage his wound. “I’m sorry.” I say, quietly, ashamed that my quick thinking got him hurt. “I’m so sorry.” I say and I struggle to focus on the medical equipment in front of me when my tears blur my eyes.

He doesn’t say anything so I move to clean his wound.

“I thought I was gonna die.” I say, my voice cracking slightly. “He was mocking me, had his knife in my face and that.” I say, finally in control of my breathing, my heart rate still too high. “He would’ve killed me if you weren’t there.” I say and pause looking up at him even though he’s not looking at me. “Thank you.” I wrap the bandage around his leg, careful to tie it tight enough but not too much. “I owe you my life.” I say. “I hope I can repay you one day.”

“I hope you can’t.” He says and I look at him, confused but also happy that he’s talking.

“What? Why?” I say getting up after finishing with his leg.

“I don’t want you to die for me.” He stands up a mere moment after me and finally looks me in my eyes.

“You just put your life on the line for me. You could’ve died.” I point out even though it’s obvious. “Because of me being stupid and not following the plan.” I say with a frown. “You said you wouldn’t do that.” I say, remembering the conversation we had when we first became allies. “You said you weren’t gonna put yourself in danger for me.” I repeat his earlier words.

“Yeah, well, things change.” He says.

“What changed?” I ask, my hands threaded in my hair, stressed out by both the conversation and the situation we’re in.

“I changed.” He says before leaning in towards me and tentatively placing his lips against mine, it’s experimental and he pulls back after a few seconds, nervously. My eyes are wide and my mouth lies open, confused but also in awe of what just happened. It takes me a few moments to process what just happened before I see Haymitch staring at me, looking slightly disheartened by my reaction.

“Forget about it-” He starts and turns to walk away but my hands reach for the sides of his face and I pull him back round so his lips meet mine again. This time more fervently and with a sense of desperation and longing. Now it’s his turn to look confused but he quickly gets into it and his hands move to find their place on my waist. He deepens the kiss, his lips desperate against  mine, determined to make the most of these moments. One of my hands stays cupping his face whilst the other moves to the back of his neck where I find myself playing with the tufts of his hair.

After a few more seconds I pull away, needing to breathe but I place my forehead against his as we both breathe in unison. There’s a smile on my face, the feeling of stress has now been replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach - butterflies as some would say.

“You do seem to have changed…” I say with a quiet laugh.

“Shut up.” He says, suddenly embarrassed by his previous words before pushing his lips against mine harder than before,

The force sends me back a little bit due to my surprise but his hands on my waist reassure me of my safety as he pins to a nearby tree. The bark is rough against my back but I can’t say that I care when his lips are on mine. His lips move roughly against mine and I gladly allow his tongue entrance as it presses against my lips. Mingling with mine, his tongue pushes through my lips and seems to search through the corners of my mouth. His lips are dry but so are mine after our run. He pulls away only for his lips to meet the skin of my jaw, he peppers kisses along my jaw but makes sure each kiss has all his attention and care. 

I tuck my head to the side, embarrassed at how bare I am, standing, pinned against a tree by a boy I only really met a week ago.

“Don’t hide your face, love.” He says and the pet name at the end makes me feel weak and my knees suddenly become wobbly which doesn’t seem to bother Haymitch as he just holds us both up - one of his knees pushed against the tree, between my legs to keep me up. I look into his eyes as he’s focused on my jaw, making his way up my face to my lips once again with nothing but desire consuming his eyes.

“They’re watching.” I say quietly, indicating with my eyes towards the cameras hidden amongst the arena.

“I don’t care.” He says between kisses. “Fuck them.” He breathes out as he presses his lips against mine with one of his hands trailing down my torso to my leg, stroking the plush skin of my thigh causing me to feel hot and flustered, the feeling tingling and travelling through my veins and making my body hot.

“Fuck them.” I say, quietly against his lips, feeling him smirk against mine.

-

AN: I really enjoyed writing this, it was such a good request and I loved it so I hope you do to! Thanks for the request!

I got a bit carried away with this piece, I only intended it to be about 1,000 words but it turned out at three times that much.

[samueldays]

Contra Yishan: Google's Gemini issue is about racial obsession, not a Yudkowsky AI problem.

@yishan wrote a thoughtful thread:

Google’s Gemini issue is not really about woke/DEI, and everyone who is obsessing over it has failed to notice the much, MUCH bigger problem that it represents. [...] If you have a woke/anti-woke axe to grind, kindly set it aside now for a few minutes so that you can hear the rest of what I’m about to say, because it’s going to hit you from out of left field. [...] The important thing is how one of the largest and most capable AI organizations in the world tried to instruct its LLM to do something, and got a totally bonkers result they couldn’t anticipate. What this means is that @ESYudkowsky has a very very strong point. It represents a very strong existence proof for the “instrumental convergence” argument and the “paperclip maximizer” argument in practice.

See full thread at link.

Gemini's code is private and Google's PR flacks tell lies in public, so it's hard to prove anything. Still I think Yishan is wrong and the Gemini issue is about the boring old thing, not the new interesting thing, regardless of how tiresome and cliched it is, and I will try to explain why.

I think Google deliberately set out to blackwash their image generator, and did anticipate the image-generation result, but didn't anticipate the degree of hostile reaction from people who objected to the blackwashing.

Steven Moffat was a summary example of a blackwashing mindset when he remarked:

"We've kind of got to tell a lie. We'll go back into history and there will be black people where, historically, there wouldn't have been, and we won't dwell on that. "We'll say, 'To hell with it, this is the imaginary, better version of the world. By believing in it, we'll summon it forth'."

Moffat was the subject of some controversy when he produced a Doctor Who episode (Thin Ice) featuring a visit to 1814 Britain that looked far less white than the historical record indicates that 1814 Britain was, and he had the Doctor claim in-character that history has been whitewashed.

This is an example that serious, professional, powerful people believe that blackwashing is a moral thing to do. When someone like Moffat says that a blackwashed history is better, and Google Gemini draws a blackwashed history, I think the obvious inference is that Google Gemini is staffed by Moffat-like people who anticipated this result, wanted this result, and deliberately worked to create this result.

The result is only "bonkers" to outsiders who did not want this result.

Yishan says:

It demonstrates quite conclusively that with all our current alignment work, that even at the level of our current LLMs, we are absolutely terrible at predicting how it’s going to execute an intended set of instructions.

No. It is not at all conclusive. "Gemini is staffed by Moffats who like blackwashing" is a simple alternate hypothesis that predicts the observed results. Random AI dysfunction or disalignment does not predict the specific forms that happened at Gemini.

One tester found that when he asked Gemini for "African Kings" it consistently returned all dark-skinned-black royalty despite the existence of lightskinned Mediterranean Africans such as Copts, but when he asked Gemini for "European Kings" it mixed up with some black people, yellow and redskins in regalia.

Gemini is not randomly off-target, nor accurate in one case and wrong in the other, it is specifically thumb-on-scale weighted away from whites and towards blacks.

If there's an alignment problem here, it's the alignment of the Gemini staff. "Woke" and "DEI" and "CRT" are some of the names for this problem, but the names attract flames and disputes over definition. Rather than argue names, I hear that Jack K. at Gemini is the sort of person who asserts "America, where racism is the #1 value our populace seeks to uphold above all".

He is delusional, and I think a good step to fixing Gemini would be to fire him and everyone who agrees with him. America is one of the least racist countries in the world, with so much screaming about racism partly because of widespread agreement that racism is a bad thing, which is what makes the accusation threatening. As Moldbug put it:

The logic of the witch hunter is simple. It has hardly changed since Matthew Hopkins’ day. The first requirement is to invert the reality of power. Power at its most basic level is the power to harm or destroy other human beings. The obvious reality is that witch hunters gang up and destroy witches. Whereas witches are never, ever seen to gang up and destroy witch hunters. In a country where anyone who speaks out against the witches is soon found dangling by his heels from an oak at midnight with his head shrunk to the size of a baseball, we won’t see a lot of witch-hunting and we know there’s a serious witch problem. In a country where witch-hunting is a stable and lucrative career, and also an amateur pastime enjoyed by millions of hobbyists on the weekend, we know there are no real witches worth a damn.

But part of Jack's delusion, in turn, is a deliberate linguistic subversion by the left. Here I apologize for retreading culture war territory, but as far as I can determine it is true and relevant, and it being cliche does not make it less true.

US conservatives, generally, think "racism" is when you discriminate on race, and this is bad, and this should stop. This is the well established meaning of the word, and the meaning that progressives implicitly appeal to for moral weight.

US progressives have some of the same, but have also widespread slogans like "all white people are racist" (with academic motte-and-bailey switch to some excuse like "all complicit in and benefiting from a system of racism" when challenged) and "only white people are racist" (again with motte-and-bailey to "racism is when institutional-structural privilege and power favors you" with a side of America-centrism, et cetera) which combine to "racist" means "white" among progressives.

So for many US progressives, ending racism takes the form of eliminating whiteness and disfavoring whites and erasing white history and generally behaving the way Jack and friends made Gemini behave. (Supposedly. They've shut it down now and I'm late to the party, I can't verify these secondhand screenshots.)

Bringing in Yudkowsky's AI theories adds no predictive or explanatory power that I can see. Occam's Razor says to rule out AI alignment as a problem here. Gemini's behavior is sufficiently explained by common old-fashioned race-hate and bias, which there is evidence for on the Gemini team.

Poor Yudkowsky. I imagine he's having a really bad time now. Imagine working on "AI Safety" in the sense of not killing people, and then the Google "AI Safety" department turns out to be a race-hate department that pisses away your cause's goodwill.

---

I do not have a Twitter account. I do not intend to get a Twitter account, it seems like a trap best stayed out of. I am yelling into the void on my comment section. Any readers are free to send Yishan a link, a full copy of this, or remix and edit it to tweet at him in your own words.

[abarbaricyalp]

hi! if you're still taking emojis for the sambucky prompt game: 🃏 (if you like!)

🃏 - Are you joking right now? CW: Mention of injury, macabre jokes, cold weather and related concerns

"Are you joking right now?" Sam asked, staring down at the sheer drop and swirling snow below them.

"Well, I know you're not getting the deja vu that I'm getting," Bucky said as he strapped his grappling line to Sam's. "Get on my back and please keep your arms inside the ride at all times. The replacement merch is cool, but not recommended."

Sam glared at him. Bucky didn't need to be able to see through the snow goggles to tell when Sam was glaring at him. As if this was Bucky's idea of a good time. It wasn't his fault there was one way down right now and they didn't have the supplies, or the body heat, to argue about it.

Sam tried to fire up his jetpack again, but the thing was completely frozen over, just like it had been five minutes ago. When Sam had tried to leave it on a low simmer earlier, the whole thing had started to smoke, so they'd nixed that defrosting idea.

"You cannot climb down this cliff," Sam insisted again. "And especially not while you're carrying me."

"You can't climb down it at all," Bucky said. "So this is our only option. We don't have to get all the way down, just below this weather system and back to the foot path."

Which, really, he should keep climbing after that. They really didn't have the provisions to finish the hike down the long way.

"You can't climb through a blizzard!" Sam insisted.

"That is hardly a blizzard. Louisiana mindsets, I swear to God. You know, there was one winter in Brooklyn where it didn't get above--"

Sam smacked a gloved hand over Bucky's mouth. Bucky held up two climbing axes instead of trying to speak. He started in on his shit again when Sam dropped his hand though.

"I didn't ask you to tackle me out of the helicopter." It was how they ended up in the middle of a snow storm two miles high. It was about the same time they realized the wings weren't working.

"Oh, should I have let the knife finish sinking into your face?" Sam asked. Okay, the helicopters had been full of bad guys who also didn't want Sam and Bucky on their ride.

"I was fine. I would've stopped him."

"You would not have. That guy was over powering you."

"Ice got in the plates," Bucky said. He was pretty sure that wasn't possible. His core temperature should've melted any errant intrusions. "I wasn't functioning at my highest. I would've figured it out. Now we're on top of a mountain and about to become ice sculptures. Please get on my back."

He put his facemask on, as if that would stop him from arguing. It hadn't at any other point in this mission. Sam mimicked, pointedly.

"We're going to fall to our deaths," he continued to argue, muffled through layers of protective warmth.

"I'm not going to let you fall," Bucky insisted. Assuming his lines held (and he was the fucking Winter Soldier, his lines were going to hold) neither of them were going to fall. If they slipped, they may be dashed against the side of the mountain, but that wasn't falling. As someone with experience in both things, Bucky had opinions on what was more survivable.

He aligned himself with his first foothold and sank the axe into the ice with a sharp crack. Sam stared at him, irritated, but eventually relented when Bucky continued to cling to the cliff's edge stubbornly.

"Don't drop me," he ordered.

"You'll have to connect your harness to mine," Bucky said as Sam began to climb over his shoulders and onto his back. "They're heavy-duty, so one on each shoulder and one by your waist."

"Bucky, this is a very dumb idea," Sam repeated one more time.

"Your complaints have been received and noted. If this all goes very wrong, you'll be highly vindicated in the history books."

As soon as Sam's weight was settled across his back, Bucky began to climb down. This was a very stupid idea, indeed.

"Hey, just in case these are my last words 'cause my vocal cords froze over or something, I really liked everything we did together. Even the shit I hated. Like this."

"Well, now we have to survive because those were terrible last words," Sam said, even more muffled now that his face was pressed to Bucky's neck. Well, as close to Bucky's neck as he could get through the winter layers. "Thanks, though. Y'know. For not leaving me on top of a mountain."

"Well, if I couldn't pass the time by arguing with you, it'd be a much longer descent."

"So much for your last words."

The snow picked up suddenly and Bucky found himself pressing into the rock face. He was going to lose his holding and certainly his footing if he tried to move right then. The wind howled, something deep and mechanical and rhythmic.

Oh, what the hell? The universe was laughing at him.

"Hey, you two need a ride?" Torres asked over a loud speaker, coming out of the storm in some stealthy little thing. "Or is this some kind of new intense couple's bonding thing?"

"You're joking right now?" Bucky called, though Torres definitely couldn't hear him.

They made quick work of cutting the lines and getting into Torres's little hovercraft. Sam laid on the floor, panting and squeezing his eyes shut like he kept expecting to open them and be outside again.

"I could've totally gone at least another mile down," Bucky insisted to no one at all.

"Are you kidding right now?" Torres asked.

Sam threw a balled up coat at him. And then laughed.

[oddlyhale]

Funny because I am so sure that many RWBY fans participated in pirating RWBY after the whole thing with Kdin happened, and even if they decided to brush aside her struggles, they still pirated because they didn't want to wait a year for RT's website to host RWBY:V9.

It's been years of Roosterteeth as the ones making bad moves that quickened the deterioration of their company. They laid off workers in the past and even removed the old skeleton of their workers to replace them with a new one, which now shows it didn't work. RT has had a string of abuse and crime come out of their company that makes the headlines rather than their own projects.

This shutdown was bounding to happen, the writing on the wall, and many, many of us - RWBY and RWDE folk - were waiting for it to become a reality.

I'm not one of those people that are "happy" that people lost their jobs. If you've seen them, I'd suggest not interacting with those types because they're not good people and they only get worse when you give them attention. But not every RWDE folk is jumping for joy that people lost their jobs.

I'm happy that a horrible workplace has been axed and won't hurt others anymore, at least that's what I am hoping for. I hope this fratboy mindset that MKEK works with will die out because that's always been a huge problem. MKEK has connections with the industry, so they aren't without a job forever, but that's not the same luxury the workers can have.

Dillain Goo is interested in RWBY, and fans are already saying, "maybe he can bring Miles and Kerry on! I hope he brings M and K on!" As if the other talented folk shouldn't be considered first?

[proxylynn]

Lynn, what do you know about Tate Frost? I only know that he does not like liars, cats. He loves gambling.

{I'll be using quotation marks when using Mortis and Bile's lore. Seriously, they are amazing people. I can't thank them enough for making weird and messed-up characters that are also loveable. Lore and art provided below is by the wonderful creators mortisfox & bileshroom.}

[This is a bit of a hard one as Tate is in two projects. He was first introduced in Mortisfox's first game Purple and Frost Bite is set before the events of Purple. WARNING/TRIGGER WARNING (certain themes) Massive TATE FROST LORE drop!!]

"Frost Bite is set in 1995 and PURPLE in 1996. In Frost Bite, Tate is a butcher. In Purple, Tate chops wood and works on cars for a living. Tate is 6'1, his b-day is April 28th, he's 33 years old in Frost Bite and 34 in Purple. He's bisexual."

Why does Tate dislike cats? "he's just one of those cis guys who has never been around cats before and thinks they're weak and stupid. if Tate got a cat, he would hate it at first until it slept on his chest then he would take it with him everywhere and kill anyone who touched it. Tate just honestly needs to have a cat for a while. he'd still be a dog guy though."

"Tate LOVES to grill, but he's not like...the best at it. He sure knows how to heat the meat up enough for him to eat it but just barely, the bloodier the better! Tate would probably love someone who could cook for him though, anything to be lazier and still have food in him. But he's not very picky! He's usually a bit buzzed so pretty much anything you feed him he'll think is really good."

"so Tate would probably enjoy a feisty and rougher MC, especially if they're harder to kill cause he really likes the challenge."

Has Tate ever tried to track down or find out who his father was? "Tate's mom had a lot of partners before he was born, so she's not even sure who he is either. One of those random bar hookups ya know growing up, Tate wondered about it for a while but he lost interest. when he got older and has no desire to figure out who it is, at this point he's happier being independent with no familial ties, that way he can move around the country and not worry about connections. he likes to call himself a 'lone wolf' cause he's a dork."

Since Tate likes drinking, what kind of person is he when drunk? "OH lord he's usually really good at not seeming drunk when he is, but if you get him past that he gets REALLY handsy, very touchy, but after about an hour of that he becomes extremely sad and depressed, he has a hard time hiding that part of himself when he's shitfaced, but it does take a LOT to get him there and more than likely hed just pass out before that. He's not a violent or angry drunk at all though, if anything he gets more silly and nice."

Is Tate just, not interested in a real relationship like at all/ever, or is he open to it but it's just never really happened that he actually wants to stick around? "Tates has been very unlucky in love. he tends to get with people who arent really great people (not that he's any better), and he also struggles with feelings of caring or empathy for other people. I think in the EXTREMELY rare off chance he meets someone that's perfect for him that he doesn't just want to kill, the relationship most likely wouldn't last long cause he'd be the one to fuck it up. Tate's current mindset is that relationships are more trouble than they're worth and he'd rather just fuck around with people, but I wouldn't say him getting in a relationship would be impossible."

Who or what was Tate's first kill? "Tate's first murder (he was 18) was an old girlfriend (whom he lived in a trailer with at the time) who he caught cheating on him, they did not have a good relationship- often having screaming matches that lasted hours, so no one thought much of the screaming while he hacked her up with an axe."

"another bit of Tate's baggage He's always at least 25% drunk, but he gets these very depressing episodes and becomes very suicidal, these don't last too long, maybe a few days to a week, but they're very bad for him."

"anyway lore drop Tate has a younger half-brother (on their dad's side) Dean or 'Coyote' as everyone calls him, they'd never actually meet in canon but Tate would hate his guts lol"

Does Tate eat meat raw? Or does he prefer them cooked? Is he messy when he cuts meat up? "Tate loves meat that's been cooked for all of 15 seconds, the bloodier the better!! he also loves to just eat with his hands anytime he can, he doesn't care what other people think of him so he just does that in public."

Is Tate a cannibal? "yep, and there will be a lot of those themes in the game! we'll be putting a content warning when the game is released, but just in case that's not something you're into heres your heads up."

Is Tate good at aftercare? What does he do for it and how would he react to a mc that cries after sex from all of the brain chemicals and such? "Tate, being the man he is, doesn't think of aftercare all that much mainly because he doesn't have sex in a lot of places that allow it- usually in his truck or a closet or backroom of some sort, BUT on the occasion he does end up in his trailer or your place he'd very much be the "no talking I'm holding you" type of aftercare, if you can really call it that lmao. BUT if the mc was a crier after sex, he might be a bit more gentle, more back rubbing and if you're real lucky some forehead kisses that he won't talk about the next morning. (though he does enjoy the sound of pleasured crying so it might just turn him on again)"

Does Tate enjoy warm cuddles all night long or is he more of the 'needs his space' type in bed with only some cuddles? "Tate is very much a 'grabs onto you and doesn't let go until he is awake' type, even worse is he a very naturally hot person so I hope you can stand sweating buckets all night."

What is Tate's ideal type of partner? "Tate is one of those people that gets very easily bored with any one type of person, he's very selfish and doesn't care much about anyone else's feelings. Like there are certain things that draw him to someone: -shorter -shy timid people -people he reads as prey -small soft hands but he doesn't stick around any one place for too long and he has trouble forming real relationships (not that it's impossible, it would just be difficult lmao he is VERY stubborn)"

"Tates favorite animal is wolves obviously, but he likes rabbits and pigs and LOVES to play with people who have aspects or identifies with those the best."

"If Tate decides he likes you, really likes you, he's going to become extremely territorial, making sure everyone knows you belong to someone, to /HIM/, by leaving any marks he can on you. Tate does not like to share, he'd barely tolerate you even talking to anyone else if he decided you belonged to him."

Why did Tate become Slasher? "this isn't going to be touched on in the game, so ill answer it since it's not a spoiler! Tate doesn't really have any specific trauma or mental illnesses or any real reason to be like he is, he just does what he wants. He sees himself as an animalistic predator that wants to hunt and he gets excited when he kills people. he hunted a lot when he was younger and grew up doing that and it just escalated into adulthood and it went from hunting animals to hunting people because they're smarter and have a high capacity for fear, which he enjoys seeing. he thinks of himself as a wolf. but this isn't to say he's just a wild animal, he's actually very charming and can convince people to trust him easily. The game takes place around 1994-1995 too so it was a little easier for him to get away with things and he moves around a LOT from state to state. I imagine the state that Frost Bite takes place in is the new england area, but he's originally from Louisiana and he's actually in another game that takes place about a year later and he's living in California in it (Purple) -fox"

[Lastly...We now have pics of not just Tate or that one of his mom, but of his dad and half-bro! Also if you think Tate is huge, think again, because his old man is giant!]

(Lore and art provided by the wonderful creators mortisfox & bileshroom.)

[degreedummy]

Intercepted Placements

So, understanding the expressions of each of the axes and minor expressions of their affects on the houses, we have to look at each of these as the environment a planet is existing in. Rather than being lost, it's a child following a lost parent. Intercepted planets themselves find it difficult to find direction, almost to the same effect as a retrograde, in how we're unable to move forward until we step back and acknowledge and, if we can't fix, continue forward with a full understanding of our circumstances.

Of course, when looking at intercepted planets, we have to consider the house it's under, the sign it's ruled by, the aspects to it (+ the degree if you use degrees). These aren't going to be exactly true for everyone, because like I said before, there's infinite possibilities. Someone with an intercepted Gemini 11H Jupiter that may believe they can't make friends is going to have a different experience from a int. Gemini 9H Jupiter that might believe they'll never be as smart and proficient as they want to be.

 

INTERCEPTED SUN_ This is someone who finds it difficult to understand themselves, usually knowing exactly who they want to become, but having no idea where they are now. Being [told] can cause conflict, but sometimes it's that honesty that grounds us.

INTERCEPTED MOON_ This is someone who doesn't like to talk about or really even acknowledge the things they like, or how they find comfort. Their needs and their desires have always been secluded from each other, and in that, they learned to do the same.

INTERCEPTED VENUS_ This is someone who has difficulties with the entire concept of sharing themselves with other people, not understanding how to balance or develop partnerships because they tend to not ever have a specific goal with them.

INTERCEPTED MERCURY_ This is someone who's mind and mouth work at different paces, either not knowing what they want to say, or having to talk their way around a point until they find a road to it. They may feel too "different" to be included, but they just need your patience.

INTERCEPTED MARS_ This person is passionate where it seems to have no place and distant when it seems to matter the most, seeming to others that they only put their energy towards things that matter to them even if that's not true.

INTERCEPTED SATURN_ This is someone who has difficulty with accountability, not understanding the need to implement structure in areas of their lives that they think are operating perfectly fine without it. They're fine the way they are, even if they're not.

INTERCEPTED JUPITER_ This is someone who lacks a belief that they can succeed in the areas of live they're most focused on, accepting that their dreams are unobtainable even while still pushing themselves to the limit trying to reach them. Sometimes the approach matters.

INTERCEPTED NEPTUNE_ This is someone wanting to believe themselves so badly that they'll try to run through a wall before accepting that it is one. This is a need to be direct with ourselves, not consistently relying on the last possible way out to save us when we're wrong.

INTERCEPTED URANUS_ I think most importantly, this is someone who doesn't believe in the powers of manifestation, and that they will receive nothing special because they themselves aren't special. It's a destructive mindset that's constantly passed off as selflessness.

INTERCEPTED PLUTO_ This is someone who struggles with understanding their control in each situation, feeling they can't bring an end to things because they don't know what the [end] means. This is a placement with hesitation and every excuse in the book.

[zxphy]

Okayy so you wanted some ideas, right? I saw your incel! Scaramouche post and I was wondering what your thoughts are on a yandere incel! Xiao? It's a popular idea but I really love it and maybe you could write it for Fem! Reader or Gn! Reader if you don't write fem! Readers

☆ No bitches?

Yandere! Incel! Xiao x Fem! Reader

Tws/cws: Xiao, misogyny, women beating, domestic abuse, use of the word "retard", implied noncon, fem aligned reader lmfao, gaslighting, doxxing, rape and murder threats, and non consensual groping. Multiple spelling mistakes are present. Both you and Xiao are 18.

Smut written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable.

Xiao was your best friend since childhood, but as you both got older into adult hood, he started acting different.

A lot more grabby and forceful. He was unable to get a girlfriend or get laid, so he went to reddit and 4chan to vent his frustrstions, there he met lots of people just like him.

He may or may not have asked them "why do women not like me", getting multiple misogynistic replies. Bro was easily manipulated then turned into a self proclaimed "incel" in about a month. He believed everything his new group of friends said.

He always talked about his discord servers and his gross friends to you, saying how they give him the best advice and their misogynistic views about how women should know their place and yada yada.

You started to hang out with him less and less, as Xiao grew incredibly insufferable. Just being near him made you uncomfortable, you were scared of even being in the same room as him.

Even though you hardly talked to him, yiu still interacted online because hey! He's been your best friend since birth you don't have the heart to end the friendship.. :(

The less time you spent with Xiao, the more time you spent with Aether, one of his best friends. Xiao obviously took notice of thst, and his huge crush on you did NOT help.

Xiao considered himself a nice guy, thinking he deserved sex from "females". Complaining that girls only want Chads who just use them for their body and leave, as if incels aren't the same thing but worse.

You wanted to help him you know.. NOT have that mindset, but his stupid 4chan friends kept encouraging his disgusting way of thinking!! :(

At sometime, Xiao eventually confessed his love for you. But honestly, you kind of expected that to happen considering you were the only chick that even looked in his direction, let alone talked to him. You let him down as lightly as you can, trying not to set him off. Cause from what you heard, self proclaimed incels usually never take "no" for an answer and take every rejection personally.

"I'm sorry Xiao, it's not you.. it's me." Oh it's definately him.

"But I'm a nice guy! I'll treat you well and get everything you want. I have a job, I can spoil you!" Ah. That would make sense as to where he gets all the money to blow on hentai from.

"I just don't have any feelings for you besides platonic ones. I'm sorry and I hope this doesn't ruin our friendship." You begin to sweat, praying you didn't set him off.

Xiao looked down to the ground at his feet and sighed. "I understand." You sigh in relief, until Xiao says this,

"Can I at least have a hug?" Oh fuck.

You begin to sweat more and nodded slowly, "S-sure man.." you open your arms out for a hug and Xiao embraces you tightly, good fucking god he smells disgusting. When was the last time he showered?? It should be common knowledge that axe body isn't a substitution for showers. The scents clash in a way that make your nose hairs burn and your toes curl. It took everything out of you to not gag.

But on the other hand, Xiao was in heaven, you smell so good! His face is in your hair and he takes a big whiff and he shudders, obviously enjoying himself. It's been forever since he's been so close to a girl, let alone YOU.

His hands slowly trail down from your back and get lower, eventually he had his hands on your ass and gave it a a light squeeze. You push him away and laugh nervously and wave him good bye, leaving him by yourself.

Days go by and you started getting mysterious phone calls, text messages and messages on your social media from anonymous people. Majority of them being death and rape threats.

Anonymous672

U stupid bitch why did u leave him to go fuck his best friend??

And another,

(777-777-777)

Im gonna rape u then kill u in an alleyway u deserve it stupid whore.

And another,

Anonymous929

I know your address.

And another...

Anonymous476

Get ready to get raped!

And... another.

(555-555-555)

He's gonna put you in your place, whore.

One time you even got a phone call and it qqs just a guy heavily breathing into the phone then threatening to rape you and then bury your body in the woods for "rejecting a perfectly nice guy."

At that point it was kind of obvious as to why you're getting such threats. Either Xiao has been using alt accounts and throwaway numbers or he had doxxed you to his other "nice guy" friends. You were honestly pissed, was he THAT butthurt because you didn't want to have sex with him? He needs to get a fucking life. Xiao used to be an amazing guy, your best friend, but now his stupid "nice guy" phase tore you both apart. You thought the rejection went well, that he'd be normal about it, but then he goes doxxing a girl because she didn't want to have sex with him? What the fuck?

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and started looking for Xiao's number, you hit him a message.

(You)

Xiao. Read 1:44pm.

(You)

XIAO. Read 1:57pm.

(You)

XIAO ANSWER ME, FUCKWAD. Read 2:00pm.

I know what you did. Read 2:00pm.

(Weird Fuck)

??

(You)

Xiao did you fucking doxx me?? Are you retarded? What the fuck is wrong with you, people keep threatening to rape and kill me you fucking ass wipe. Read 2:01pm.

(Weird Fuck)

Im sorry just meet me at my place

(You)

What?? No dawg, I'm not gonna go to your fucking house, I wanna know why you fucking doxxed me, we were literally best friends before you became a fucking misogynist. Why did you doxx me?? Read 2:02pm.

(Weird Fuck)

Come over and ill tell u

(You)

Kys. Read 2:02pm.

You shoved your phone back in your pocket and you huffed. Who does that fucker think he is?? All because you wouldn't date him!!

You being you, you still went to his home to get answers. He didn't deny doxxing you which ulset you even more. His dick probs got hard just by you texting him. (He did :3) You're sick of sll the threats, you just want it to stop. You just want Xiao to stop his bitchless behaviour. Now you're gonna do something about it.

-------------------------------------------------------

You walk up to the lavish home and knocked on the door. Of course Xiao still lives with his dad instead of doing something productive like going to colledge like his twin sister Ganyu. You folded your arms and waited. You assumed that Mr. Zhongli wasn't home because you heard some random porn game from the third story window, Xiao's room.

You knocked again, but this time louder. You heard the game pause, then a door slamming, then rapid footsteps going down stairs. You hesrd a voice from behind the door.

"Are you the delivery guy?" *Xiao.*

"No fuckwad." You replied back. The door slowly swung open, revealing Xiao. He looked a lot more gross than you remember, he looked incredibly dishevled, with messy greasy hair, a random tshirt with very suspcious stains and dandruff on it, baggy gray sweatpants that aldo had a suspcious stain, but this time on the crotch area, and a pair of perscription glasses, the frame kind of similar to yours. But what you really could not get over, was the smell. He smelled like he hasn't showered in months, he smells entirely of spoilt food, semen, body odor and sweat. Disgusting.

"You look and smell like shit." You push past Xiao and walk into the lovely home.

"You came." He mumbled.

Of course you came, you wanted to know why the fuck he'd doxx you. He grossed you out comepletely, he was a digusting good for nothing freak. Xiao was actually a nice guy, he got good grades, was super sweet to everyone and made his father proud.

Xiao avoided eye contact and told you to follow him to his room, so you both could talk. You shook your head, feeling uneasy.

"Mr. Zhongli isn't home, why not talk here?" He ignored your question and walked up the stairs. You followed behind but kept a reasonable distance. Reasonable being several feet.

Xiao opened his bedroom door and you were immedately met with a horrible stench, his room smelled like him but worse. It smelt like semen, piss and shame. His room was covered in hentai posters and anime girl figurines, his clothes thrown all over the floor, and in the corner there was a really expensive looking gaming set up.

He could afford a multi-monitor gaming set up but not deoderant?

What couldn't go unnoticed was the collection of stiff socks gathering in a pile near his bed.

"Xiao what the hell? Your room is a fucking biohazard, feels like I need a gas mask and a hazmat suit just to be in here." You felt sorry for his father, you couldn't imagkne what it feels like having a son just like Xiao.

You walked into the room, being careful of wjere you step, Xiao sits in his gaming chair and then types a message into his Discord chat. He then got back up and cleared a space on his bed, throwing whatever was previously there onto the floor. "You can uh.. sit there."

You shook your head, but then you looked back at Xiao and he looked like he was about to cry. You felt bad so you sat anyway. You're definately burning this skirt when you get home.

You got a proper look around the room, not only seeing the weird posters, but pictures of you.

.

.

.

Creepy...

Xiao sat in his gaming chair and swung side to side, he looked nervous. Sweating as he looked at you.

You finally spoke up breaking the awkward silence. "So Xiao, why did fuck did you doxx me?" Xiao stayed silent and looked away from you. This really set you off. "Don't ignore me you asswipe! I've been getting threats of violent rape, I home you know you committed a cyber crime!"

"Relax, (Name.)" Xiao said still not looking at you. "It's not that serious." You scoffed and felt yourself getting more mad.

"Not that serious? NOT THAT SERIOUS?? Xiao! For the love of fucking christ, people are threatening to kill me! Why would you doxx me?!" You raised your voice at him, and you saw him get more nervous.

"Well.. I-I don't know I just. Me and you were like really close, but then you started fucking Aether.." You huffed, even more angry than before, "God fucking damnit Xiao! I'm trying to not fucking strangle you, but you're making it so hard!" You stood up and continued yelling, "You were so cool until you started acting like this! Kf course women won't like you if you keep thinking that she's gonna hop on your gross cock, Xiao! No one wants your tiny penis, I can assure that!"

You folded your arms and contued, "Sorry you feel so offended because I feel SAFE around Aether! He doesn't talk about how women's only purpose is to have kids and serve her mans or whatever, unlike YOU!"

Xiao fumbled with the draw strings on his sweatpants, "I-I don't know I uh just thought that you'd like me I g-guess.."

You face palmed. "Xiao. You doxxed me because I didn't want to date you? Dude! I explicitly told you that I have zero attraction to you. I only have PLATONIC feelings for you man. We had a good friendship but your gross ways ruined it-"

Xiao interupted you, "I'm a nice guy (Name), I'll treat you right. You're not like other females.."

"Oh my fucking god, Xiao..." you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I cannot believe that you think any girl would want to date YOU! A gross, disgusting people of shit incel like you! You're retarded if you think any girl would want your gross penis inside of her!"

Xiao stood up, "Fuck you (Name)!" You staggered back, surpised of his sudden outburst.

"Females like yourself are the problem. All you do is fuck chads and leave actjal nice sigmas in the dust!"

You blinked before letting out a laugh. "PFFTT!!! Dawg! Fuck this shit for real, and you know what? I'ma go to Aether's place to fuck him! How doed thst make you feel, Xiao? You gonna cry??" You flicked him off before getting up, walking to leave the room.

Suddenly your arm gets grabbed and you're pulled back, thrown onto the floor. Xiao gets on top of you and punches you square in the nose. You let out a loud squeal of pain.

"Xiao what the fu-" Xiao picks you up from under your arms and puts on on his bed, he starts feeling up your body, his hands trailing up yojr skirt, fumbling with the hem of your safety shorts.

You kicked him in the stomach and punched him in his face, Xiao staggered back and held his stomach as his glassed fell off his face, you took the chance and pushed him off you and ran.

Unfortunately for you, you tripped on the wires spewn about his room and you fell, Xiao took this opportunity and turned you around and kicked you until you stopped fighting. As an extra measure, Xiao grabbed your head, lifted it slightly then slammed it back down into the floor. You gripped your head in pain and whined.

"Xiao? What the fuck.." you wince. Xiao once again picks you up, and drops you onto his head, his hands trailing up your skirt. He lifts it slightly and pull down your safety shorts revealing your panties. His obvious erection poking through his sweatpants. Xiao went back to his gaming chair and once again started typing on his discord server, before getting up and locking his bedroom door. Too busy holding onto your head and lightly crying in pain, you had not noticed that he actually did lock the door.

The teen walked back over to you, took your shoes off and peeked off your safety shorts. He got close to you and whispered into your ear, "How does it feel to be put in your place?" He slapped you playfully.

Xiao shoved down his pants, his hard cock springing out. He hasn't shaved in a while, revealing curly black n green pubes covering his pelvic area. The tears that were threatening to fall, have fell, hot tears flowing down your cheeks hoping that Xiao isn't gonna do what you think he's gonna do.

"Xiao please. Don't do this.." You looked up at him in fear. Xiao ignored you and pulled off your panties, revealing your pussy. He threw them into a random direction. He pressed himself against you.

You're struggling to process what the fuck is going on, you're being held down, Xiao's dick is rubbing against you and half your clothes are missing.

Xiao then tore off your tshirt and threw the shreds in another random direction, then took off your bra, groping your chest the second he saw your tits.

"You're so fucking pretty.. and you're all mine." Xiao took his fingers and spread apart your lips, revealing your lovely pink insides. Xiao shoved two of his fingers inside of you just to test and you yelped.

"Fuck yeah, you're tight as balls." Xiao removed his fingers and quickly replaced his fingers with his thick cock.

He then slammed inside of you, putting his hands around your neck.

You're his now.

ANDDD.. DONE! I'M SO GLAD I HAD THE MOTIVATION TO WRITE THIS..

I honestly think I got a little too into it, anyway I hope you guys enjoy! :3

@mistywaves98

[radical-community-care]

How would you describe the middle class and how would you identify someone belonging to that demographic liek what are some tell tale signs besides being pretty and white with nice teeth and patagonia jackets and $7 chai lattes?

I might not be the best at defining the middle class, but for the purposes of this blog, this is roughly what I mean:

middle class is a loose group of people who don't necessarily think of themselves as having much in common with each other, plus they like to either deny their privilege and/or aspire to higher status, depending on what benefits them most in each situation.

they are of course first and foremost an economic class, but that doesn't mean that they all have a specific amount of money, possessions (like houses or cars (and definitely not superficial stuff like brands and coffees)) or income. there is some sandwich discourse here where the more factors are met, the more likely someone is considered to be middle class and act like it and be treated like it and function like it in the broader systems of power, hierarchies and oppression. Just like two slices of white bread with pb and j are more likely to be considered a sandwich than a burrito.

middle class, as the name implies, is somewhere between lower/working class and upper/ruling class. often they see themselves as "the backbone of society", as the norm/normal, as the "everyday person". they also derive quite a lot of entitlement from this view.

typical "ingredients" of the middle class sandwich are: being an employee, middle management, small/medium business owner, doing desk/office jobs that still make enough money to not have to worry where food and shelter will come from. being suitably educated and knowing how to talk, dress, behave "politely", expecting it from others.

you can see, there are lots of exceptions and edge cases already. middle class is also a very wide range, from people who do struggle financially or are actually poor for a while, to people who are rich and go to elite schools but still aren't ruling class.

and of course there are other axes of marginalisation or privilege. so, no, not all middle class people are white and the assumption that BIPOC can't be middle class is racist. that's why I often specify "white middle class" when talking about that particular (racist) mindest that we white middle class (or ex middle class) ppl have as part of our background noise. being marginalised in some way or in several ways does not mean someone's middle class privilege is irrelevant.

having a particular political opinion, like being anticapitalist or anarchist, also doesn't erase middle class privilege.

I do want to talk about middle class culture though. I feel like that's often overlooked while at the same time being at the root of a lot of problems. it starts with a mindset that puts following rules and often unspoken rules, especially rules about social hierarchies, above pretty much everything. to a truly ridiculous and illogical degree.

it's a particular set of values, that comes through in how they talk and act and in pretty much everything they do, especially in how normalised and entrenched discrimination is. discrimination really is a core part of it.

middle class culture is berating a two or three year old for asking for food when they're hungry because they didn't say "please and thank you".

it is dismissing a Black person's right to live in peace and free from attacks, because they got angry or were using "bad" (ie Black) language when under attack.

it is getting offended at people wanting to be seen as and connect to you as a living human being instead of as the subservient kind of being their lower status marks them as.

it is holding form over substance. like when it is acceptable to say the most vile racist or otherwise inhumane shit in polite language and a calm tone but absolutely scandalous to argue back against that in "improper" ways.

it is denying someone basic human decency, looking down on them and mistreating them (usually in superficially nonviolent ways or by having someone else do the physical violence like cops) and subconsciously seeing them as less than human, or not seeing them at all, acting like they don't exist, for being lower on the social hierarchy.

this is very context dependent. it hits other middle class people in some contexts, often hits working class people and lumps entire groups of people together as below the threshold of consideration. those outside of society or below working class, sometimes called the lumpen proletariat (including sans papiers, beggars, sex workers, homeless ppl, drug dealers and certain users, thieves and others doing illegalised work or coping strategies or activism (unless it's white collar crime)).

it is having immense double standards without a shred of self awareness.

it is practically worshipping hypocrisy and insincerity. that's what all the double standards and respectability bullshit boils down to. you can't mean what you say and can't say what you mean, that would be rude and uncultured, childish, threatening, embarrassing, confusing, stupid, uncivilised etc etc etc.

honesty is, in effect, a hindrance to being heard, accepted, supported our even allowed to exist in that culture.

just imagine going up to your middle manager and showing them what you really think and feel. or teacher. or your bigoted or just plain annoying relatives. or anyone middle class when you are trying to be accepted by them or are even dependent on them.

and by showing how you think and feel, I don't just mean talk calmly. that can already be dangerous. but expressing feelings includes things like crying, shouting, having trouble speaking up, being choked up, struggling for words, rambling, laughing shrilly or raucously, stimming, putting on a hood and earphones, running and jumping and fidgeting, sitting down on the pavement, dissociating, refusing to talk, refusing to listen, refusing to shut up, demanding answers, refusing to apologise when you don't think you should have to, demanding action.

demanding action, or just acting for yourself, is I guess the main thing that all this hypocrisy is meant to stop.

you're not meant to change the status quo. you're not meant to just do what's right and reasonable and just and necessary. because that would dismantle class. it would dismantle injustice and inequality. it would mean actually redistributing wealth and things and houses and land back to those it belongs to (actually belongs to, NOT legally!) or who actually need it. it would mean holding white collar monsters accountable.

it would mean protecting Black and all BIPOC people and disabled and crazy and queer people and women and children and fat people and all other oppressed people from harm, including economic exploitation, being unhoused, displaced, locked up, starved and denied their needs. or being molded, pressured, manipulated, forced into narrow acceptable boxes of how to be and how to look and act.

I could go on, but this is already long. I think one thing that I almost forgot as a now lumpen person who was never close to the upper class is the relation middle class has to the upper classes. there is envy but also mockery and disgust. the essence of middle class is to be subservient to the upper classes and being simultaneously drawn to them, wanting to be them or like them, but also knowing one's place and rejecting the idea of being like them.

we're not decadent and frivolous like them rich people! we hate billionaires! but we also love celebrities and in some places literal nobles and monarchs.

to your last point, no, I would not try to identify someone as belonging to the middle class or look for tell tale signs. what would be the point of that?

it's a CLASS. which means it's not about individuals having or buying certan things.

I don't judge people based on stuff they have little control over or on irrelevant things. I judge people based on the impact their actions and words have in context. and yeah sometimes I get super frustrated with middle class bullshit!!!

not because of white teeth or expensive beverages, but because of patterns of harm, discrimination and oppression that middle class people are part of and further and do and support to exist into the future (perpetuate).

[razorblade180]

Tea? Venting? I don’t know

Ya know it’s kinda crazy I can still find people who absolutely can’t forgive Jaune for trying to court Weiss a few times but yet these same people recognize that Weiss and Blake are no longer a racist and a terrorist respectively.

Like I would understand if he was unhealthily obsessive, Weiss was genuinely pissed about the experience or actually told him directly to stop doing what he’s doing because it bothers her, but she truly couldn’t care less at the time and chalked it up to a boy after her name.

Canonically speaking, he flirted with her the first day, asked if she wanted to hangout after school one time, and then asked if she would go to dance with him potentially. After that he saw her pursue someone else and he went about his life. Was he a little cringe? Absolutely. But he never devalued or disrespected Weiss for his own selfish reasons? Not once. He’s just a dude who genuinely liked a girl for reasons he explained and gave a few separate and respectful attempts that weren’t “date me” but scenarios to hangout and talk.

Also, nobody ever wants throw shade on their friends who kinda encourage him to try again, or at the very least not stop immediately because Weiss wasn’t actually bothered nor was Jaune legitimately going too far.

Now I know someone says “If someone says no to a hangout then clearly-” Listen, I get it, and I understand. Real world speaking, people should have that level of self awareness and respect to try once. However, the real world also has many people that have the mindset that courting should involve someone being persistent and playing hard to get must be done. It sucks. Can’t stand it, but also those people aren’t just going to go away. At best it’s a case by case basis were individuals know to be respectful and communicate.

Back to the fictional show though, I’ve also seen people comment “I can’t believe he never apologized.” Bruh, Weiss and Jaune save each other often and talk kindly to one another. Weiss has no ax to grind with him about their history so why do you? She’s not losing sleep over it. Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if both of them missed the teenage drama of Beacon Days. Would it be nice if they had a conversation and he brought up how cringe he was towards her? Yeah it would be a sweet moment but also funny from Weiss’s perspective because she’s 100% self aware enough to know that him getting hung up on that flaw is so wild compared to thinking about her former flaws. I can totally see Weiss downplaying it for her own sake by going “Don’t worry about it. We both said and did some…embarrassing things back things back then.” As she tries not to think about how she drew Sun and called him a filthy faunus. 💀

In Summary, Weiss ain’t trippin about it, so why should you? They’re literally friends.

By the way, we don’t have a have single legitimate scene of Blake acknowledging to Yang that leaving without a word letter to give was really fucked up, and yet they’re fine and dating. If you can accept that unspoken apology, you can accept this.

[nico-di-genova]

i’m a big fan of daniel and not a fan (though i don’t dislike) logan and i feel about the same for both firings. like it’s unfortunate but we also saw it coming and knew it was always a possibility. and no matter what, their time in f1 was going to end eventually but that isn’t even necessarily a bad thing on the whole, and this isn’t the last time we’ll see them, so people acting like they’re “gone” is odd to me. so idk i get being sad but also like. it’s kind of fine really. maybe i just think this cause it’s my own mindset, but they really might be happier doing well at something else rather than struggling at the “pinnacle”

It is kind of a bad thing when the drivers themselves didn’t choose to leave. It’s one thing with someone like Seb, who retired of his own volition and felt his time within the sport had come to a natural conclusion. It’s another to be someone like Daniel, who was still very passionate about driving within F1, or someone like Logan, a young driver who had nothing but potential before him, who lose their seat due to business decisions. I think the major problem at the end of the day is the business of F1 itself - where drivers are often not treated with the respect they deserve. It’s easy for someone on a board seat to decide they want to axe a driver, easy to make decisions like removing a driver from the team halfway through the season, when they’re not the ones driving these vehicles and putting their lives on the line. At the end of the day though, it really is like any other job. If you’re not performing, or meeting a quota, then your position there is at risk. It’s just shitty overall, from any perspective.

We essentially witness someone being fired from their job, something that, in a normal situation, is not public at all. Hence why there’s such large public outcry when people “lose” their drivers. It’s that fear that you won’t see them on the grid next year, that sadness that you’ll be looking for their name or their number on the leaderboard and it won’t be there. I felt it with Rossi tbh, which is why I’ve been so anxious in waiting to find out if he would get a job. Because the driver that someone supports or ties themselves to is often their touch point into the sport. So people are acting like daniel is “gone” because in a lot of ways he is. Fans of him have lost their connection to the sport, something they can probably find in another driver, or another team, but it is a bit like a raw severing right now that is painful. So I don’t find it odd at all that they’re upset, if it was my driver I would be (and have been) upset too. Sure, they could find happiness elsewhere, but a lot of the time we’re watching someone depart from their childhood dream, and there’s an aching sort of sadness to that.

[kinsey3furry300]

I have no ideas what animorph is but I already seen it mentioned on at least 5 different blog which have nothing to do with each other (you being the 5th) what the hell is it???

90s/early 00s young adult sci-fi book series of around 60 short books, published once a month, by K A Applegate.

The books were distributed cheeply by the Scholastic book fair, and could be found in most school libraries thought the Mid 00s.

The plot was 5 normal kids have to stop a secret alien invasion by turning into various animals, and the books were known for starting off with quirky humour and very rapidly decending into utter existential horror with body horror, possession horror, and the ptsd you'd get if you were actually a teen super hero and had to fight an actual war with real stakes aged 13-16, and the fear of never knowing who your real enemy might be. The series ended about a month before 9/11 with a disastrous final battle and a grim warning about how war never really fixes any of the underlying problems between rival nations or peoples, and just destroys good people, so... yeah, ooof.

Due to the content, beloved by horror fans, super hero fans, Sci fi fans, furries (the kids have the power to turn into animals for combat and it gets real weird real fast), and the queer and the trans community, so it turns up on a lot of unrelated blogs.

The audio books are still readily available and are pretty well done, and the cover art of the books was gloriously 90s.

Behold!

There was also a tv show we dont talk about.

The main cast were:

Jake: the leader. There is an evil alien slug living in his brother's head, and this causes issues for him.

Cassie: Jake's crush. The moral center of the books. Also her parents are veterinarians at a zoo, with is very fucking convenient if you need a ready sourse of animals to turn into.

Marco: Jake's best friend, the smart one. Also uses inappropriate humour to cope with trauma (relatable).

Rachel: Jake's cousin. Uses turning into a grizzly bear and committing extreme violence to cope with her trauma (relatable).

Tobias: perminantly turns into a bird to escape his trauma (most relatable) but then has to deal with extreme body and mental dismorphia as a result. Has a star-crossed lovers plot with Rachel. He is my favorite.

Ax: an alien teenager they just adopted and hide in the woods. Is also my favourite. He's a bright blue centar with stalk-eyes and a sythe tail, and he loves Cinabon and warcrimes. Due to his extreme alien mindset, he's been taken as a metaphor for Neurodivergance, but it's unclear if that was the author's original intent.

The books are awesome, and still available as e-books, comics and audio books I'd you want to check them out.

Here is a video essay that does a far better job of explaining:

[emptymanuscript]

Wow. Again. What even do you say about that?

On the one hand, at this point, existential exhaustion is kind of the goal.

On the other hand, this is so profoundly doofus stupid… it’s like an axe murderer killed your family, framed you for it, arranged all of it perfectly, and then shit the bed, too. Like just had to get that last misdeed in. It’s a little hard to work up the indignation over the bed stank.

Like, way to go. Ouch. That hurt me. And now your dna is at the crime scene.

That’s a legal document that is now permanently filed into the court’s records about the case - which was about Trump & Co offering money for an NDA - where Trump & Co offers 30k for an NDA.

It doesn’t matter that it’s 30k off a bill, this time, instead of a 30k payment to her. It’s the same damn thing. It’s literally the thing these legal fights involving her are about.

AND this was the fight HE WON!

He WON!

He won 600k + interest.

He got away with that.

And THEN he shit the bed.

He just did, on paper, legally filed - lawyers have to keep all these, they have to be recorded - what he said she defamed him by falsely claiming he did.

Truth is an absolute defense against defamation, slander, etc.

AND! AND!!! Jesus… AND!!!

Between him winning and getting away with it and all that and this stupid attempted pay off / discount for silence, another court case has legally convicted him of actually doing the crime he sued her for defamation for claiming he did.

A settled case will almost certainly not be reopened. It’s pretty unlikely that she’ll get a court to redo the case, let alone find her innocent and force Trump & Co to give the 620k back. He won. He got away with it. All he had to do was nothing. This fight was over. He won. First place. Top of the hill. There was nowhere to go but down. But he went there anyway.

This isn’t a secret document. I don’t think it’s even terribly privileged. It’s just there now. Easy to get as evidence. Admissible in future court cases about these events. Including the sentencing for the actual underlying felony that these cases have in common which has yet to occur.

A significant part in the leeway of criminal sentencing is the court’s consideration of current remorse and potential recidivism. Does the convicted feel sorry for what they did, indicating that they will try not to do it again and be a good little citizen from now on? What circumstances are the same or different indicating that they are more or less likely to ever commit crimes again? Ideally the crime they’re convicted of but our system rarely operates ideally.

Now, AFTER having been convicted of this crime, while the case is still before the court, Trump & Co just did it again. On the record. This is literally recidivism. He recommitted the crime he was convicted of while awaiting sentencing for the earlier time.

I can’t think of a better LEGAL argument against remorse and for the likelihood of recidivism than this. Here is evidence that he knew this was bad because we just told him and he still did it again. AND - sweet Jesus h. Christ on a goddamn pogo-stick: AND!!! - fuck! AND the evidence shows he didn’t need to commit the crime at all because he settled for both the money off and not getting the product of the crime. He didn’t NEED it. He just WANTED it. It’s proof of criminal mindset. This is the kind of thing he does because he wants to, even though he knows from recent events that it’s wrong and he’ll be punished for it.

It’s the exact argument for deciding the expected punishment is insufficient and stronger deterrence is needed. So the leeway should be used to ramp up the punishment actually doled out.

And it’s a separate crime. So if he loses the election, while he is just sitting around in jail, he can be tried for this as well. Now with the established pattern of recidivism.

It’s so profoundly dumb. It’s literally bad strategy… tactics? I can never keep those things straight. Bad whichever is the overall plan for the war.

Actually, it’s both since he lost the particular fight as well, gaining neither of the goals of 30k more or the NDA.

Fuck. Elmer Fudd is more qualified to be president than Trump. At least Elmer Fudd requires Bugs Bunny to foil his intentions. So goddamn stupid. Fuck!

And it’s not new. It’s the same shit. Over and over again. On his own bed. And it’s not the last time. We know he’ll do it all again. Breaking news. Fuck!!!!

<this is my inarticulate scream of existential rage at an unjust universe exemplified by a moron who might destroy it>

[p5x-theories]

Noir in P5X

(last updated 11/9/24!)

Haru Okumura is primarily present as a Phantom Idol, or cognitive teammate. She has not yet made any appearance in the main story, outside of her lines during the Sae Palace escape intro cutscene.

Noir is first seen at the very end of the P5 Collab's Pyramid Chapter, after the group is abducted and finds themselves in the space station, as she and Mona are right there in the station to greet them. However, she features much more prominently in the Spaceship Chapter, as this is when she, Mona, and Joker actually join with the rest of the group in order to steal the Core there.

While she's initially a bit nervous to be a newbie in front of this other group of thieves, Wind reassures her, and they later connect over having reduced themselves to their roles for their families and others, before their respective friend groups helped them break out of this mindset. Joker also puts on an entire Beauty Thief routine which she cites as lightening the mood and helping her relax. Still, her father is consistently on her mind as they traverse this place that looks like his Palace.

Noir later unintentionally is the catalyst that makes the group realize they're actually from parallel worlds, as Big Bang Burger (and, it's implied, Okumura Foods as a whole) does not exist in the P5X universe.

Haru can also be found in Leblanc in the real world, which Wonder is for some reason capable of crossing worlds to visit. She won’t appear until Wonder has begun the Spaceship Chapter, but has evidently already heard about him from the others. She talks about her day-to-day activities and hobbies, including asking Wonder for suggestions for what she should grow in her rooftop garden at Shujin.

Noir's Persona Milady is categorized as a Psychokinesis type, and resists Psychokinesis while being weak to Nuclear.

Milady is a Control Persona, meaning she’s good at dealing with groups of enemies, and her trait makes it so that Noir's grenade launcher ammo can gain "Modifications" from her Persona skills, strengthening it (up to three Modifications can be active at once, and they're consumed when she fires her grenade launcher).

Her first psychokinesis attack skill hits all enemies twice, with a chance to inflict a "Crosshair" for three rounds (also grants the "Thermal Energy" Modification: enemies with a Crosshair take extra damage from Noir's grenade launcher, consuming the Crosshair); her gun attack skill hits one enemy, dealing extra damage if they have a Crosshair (also grants the "Armor Removal" Modification: the next ranged weapon attack deals extra damage, and the Thermal Energy Modification can now apply to psychokinesis attack skills as well); and her second psychokinesis attack skill hits all enemies, having an increased critical chance on any enemies with a Crosshair (also grants the "Diffusion" Modification: the next ranged weapon attack deals extra damage, and the Thermal Energy Modification can now apply to psychokinesis attack skills as well).

Her passive skills buff Noir's attack and critical damage based on Noir's effect hit stat, and grant Noir a layer of "Barrel Heat" every time a Modification is consumed (the first layer of Barrel Heat buffs Noir's effect hit and resistance stats, the second layer buffs her defense, and the third layer buffs her critical damage).

As in P5, her melee weapon is axes, while her ranged weapon is a grenade launcher. Her Highlight is shown from 0:47-0:57 in this video, and it deals psy damage to all enemies. If Noir's Modification slots aren't full, it grants the "Overload" Modification: buffs Noir's critical rate when using her ranged weapon. If her Modification slots are full, the Highlight's damage is buffed instead.

Her recommended card sets are 1) 6 of Cups (Pleasure) + Page of Swords (Wisdom), 2) 4 of Coins (Power) + Page of Coins (Growth).

The game recommends teaming her up with 1) Summer Tomoko, 2) Rin.