#like I misses the key element of the positive parts of it if that makes sense

[lunaescribe]

An Interracial Reading of Ed & Stede

After writing about how the racial dynamics of Ed's character in the show affect his choices, it got me thinking about the interracial romance dynamics set up between Ed and Stede. (This is a little more Stede focused than Ed since I already wrote about Ed at length)

Unlike some shows OFMD recognizes systems of privilege and oppression in its world. Colonialism, racism, and homophobia all exist-but no marginalized person in the show is forced to have an arch revolving only around these oppressive forces. The sea within the show, is especially used as a metaphor-and transgressive space where some of these oppressive forces lessen in power, or are more easily resisted. (I.E. Calico Jack's comment "Anything goes at sea" in reference to homosexuality). The show has deliberately set up piracy to be an anarchistic, and rebellious force to traditional society's colonialism and heteronormativity-which is a key element to how Ed and Stede come together.

Stede clearly comes from a place of white, male, and wealthy privilege. It lends itself to a lot of arrogance that he charges into situations with, and a very valid reason much of the crew and other characters are frustrated with him. He isn't afraid to invade spaces which often belong to marginalized people, the poor, POC, and women (Like Spanish Jackie's).

He underestimates piracy is often a forced profession (as told to him by Olu in episode 1) to those in the most marginalized positions. He can be dismissive of the crew's frustrations or worries often (fails to notice when they are in danger like Lucius going missing)-and doesn't often comprehend how racial violence works. When the English Officers are making microaggressive comments against his crew in episode 1 he does appear uncomfortable, but also fails to entirely understand the weight of those insults to his crew or stand up against them (even if it would've been dangerous). The indigenous group are right to be wary of him in episode 2 and address his internalized bias and racist reaction when he assumes they are cannibals which ate the hostages. He is a self-focused white man, even if he is capable of emotional intelligence and empathy with others.

Rightfully so, the Revenge crew has plenty of reasons to want to mutiny and kill him-as a privileged outsider who's impulsive decisions, and invasion of space for the marginalized, is going to put all their lives in danger (as he does in episode 3 on the Spanish Ship).

Despite his very expected of-the-time-period (And unfortunately still persist in modern times) ignorance, privilege, and microaggressions Stede still appears to be an outlier of the elite white men of his society. Unlike the English, or French aristocrats he does not showcase any overt prejudice to members of his crew-and even seeks out their advise and council (when his own excitement hasn't gotten him to make an impulsive decision). In fact by coming to sea-Stede surrenders a degree of his privilege, since it is the pirates like Spanish Jackie, Blackbeard, Calico Jack, and even Izzy who through experience and physical force have earned the most power and respect on the high seas. Being a white, wealthy, man doesn't carry the same immediate access to power as it does in Barbados-and Stede is seemingly willing to make to make that sacrifice to learn along the way. While part of this must be a-credited to the excellent writing on the show more focused on creating a modern, inclusive, experience-credit must also be given to the writing for showcasing historical subtext which demonstrates why Stede would have more progressive viewpoints.

Throughout history, there are multiple instances where marginalized groups end up bonding together-because they're all pushed to the outskirts of society. It makes sense a lot of the most staunch abolitionists of the 19th century (amongst white people-since there were plenty of POC who did the majority of the work) were women. Enduring discrimination is painful, but can have the affect of building empathy-which seems to have been one of the effects in Stede's case. Episode 1 establishes what a menace Stede is to his more marginalized crew-but it also importantly showcases how intensely marginalized Stede was in his own society. Stede experienced abuse in his own house AND from his own peers due to his overt lack of traditional colonial masculinity.

We're told he cries easily and picks flowers (Stede confirms he did), which make him the ire of the more traditionally masculine boys in his school, and provokes their physical and mental abuse. Stede's queerness has ostracized him from his society and some elements of his privilege ever since he was a boy.

While his marriage does not continue his overt abuse-it's a further situation of Stede trying to exist in a colonial role that is just miserable for him as a queer man. What's interesting to how Stede responds to his marginalization though-is he chooses to walk away from the abusive heteronormative, colonial, society-rather than become embittered (and lashing out-which he does do once he tries to return in episode 10) trying to exist in it. It's part of the reason he feels a kinship to the other pirates (even if it isn't alway reciprocated or over-assumed on his part), and finds life more comfortable amongst others who have also been outcasted from colonial traditional society. He finally has a space he can be openly queer (Not in the immediately seducing men sense-but in ignoring the demands of traditional masculinity sense)-because it is a transgressive space in and of itself. I would argue one of the most important pieces of Stede's arch in the show-is realizing resisting the colonial, violent society he was told is normal-is not something to feel guilty about-but needed for justice and happiness.

As much as Stede questions what he's done or who he is becoming upon killing Nigel, when he actually pauses to consider his death-he finds he doesn't feel guilty at all about it. He recognizes what an abusive and horrible colonial force Nigel was. What he really feels guilty over is the harm he could've caused to leaving his family vulnerable without him-or I would argue-the overall guilt he feels each time he transgresses against the traditional societal role he was told he should respect. It's here, he begins to let go of his privilege that was apart of that abusive colonial system, which also abused him.

Enter Ed. After hearing stories of his success and adventures, and freedom of anarchy Stede is instantly starstuck by the idea of Blackbeard before even meeting him. Ed is equally intrigued by Stede before they meet-someone who doesn't seem to be overwhelmed by his reputation-and also an apparent 'gentleman' at sea-a persona difficult to exist in a hyper-violent power structure of pirates. I would argue Ed's initial interest in Stede is split between that intrigue-and as we learn at the end of episode 4-his plan to kill him and steal his wealth & assets. And why wouldn't he? As far as he knows Stede is just another wealthy white man who would put him down the moment he gets a chance.

That is until Stede wakes up. As others have pointed out, immediately, without even knowing he is a Captain Stede treats Ed with respect as though they are equals. Ed is clearly perplexed by that, and it extends his fascination toward Stede even though he is still heavily invested in his long-con. However it's when Ed shows interest in the untraditionally hyper-masculine fabric-and Stede responds not only with equal adoration, but invites Ed into his secret cabinet of more, his perception of Stede begins to shift. Stede is not the same as the previous condescending white aristocrats Ed has come across previously who would've never invited him to touch their things-none the less wear them in the next scene. Their clothes swapping also gives us the visual cue of the equal playing ground Ed and Stede meet at on the sea. Stede still carrying some of the power of his wealth and whiteness, and Ed carrying the power earned from being Blackbeard for years, and the biracial influence able to earn loyalty from pirates of different identities across the board. Not at all how it would have been if they met in Barbados.

From there, relieved to find someone who has an appreciation for the same untraditionally masculine interest they share-the pair open up further. Sharing their mutual exasperation with the role they've been forced into by society, due to their marginalization.

By the end of the episode-bonding on their mutual eccentricities they've developed in response to learning to cope and make life interesting for themselves-Ed is already beginning to doubt his plan. It's obvious on his face when he turns from Izzy after sharing his plan to murder Stede. This long-con of playing hyper-violent, hyper-masculine, to survive has become draining.

The following episode we get an instance of Ed learning high class manners from Stede for said con, when a French Officer racially insults him referring to him as "Donkey". While Stede recognizes Ed is upset-he does not seem to understand entirely why it's so deeply harmful to him. Clearly having an old wound reopened Ed is especially eager to go to the fancy French aristocrat party to prove to himself, and perhaps even Stede, he can be more than those insults. That he could even pull off the con if he suceeds.

Initially, Ed is proud he's somehow outdid Stede at the party, a white man in his own element, by being more 'liked' at the party. Stede however, knowing society well, is most likely familiar enough to be wary of the overt or passive aggressive racism that exists in these spaces. He warns Ed they can be fickle. We know first-hand he's been mistreated for his own version of masculinity, so he's more aware of what discrimination looks like in this setting, as opposed to the previous microaggressions he underestimated from the officers He's not at all surprised when Ed leaves the party distraught-and his desire to get revenge on the French aristocrats is an extremely huge shift for him and Ed.

While the comedy of the scene is overt-many have pointed out Stede is shockingly unfazed with the obvious destruction and clearly loss of life on the French ship. It's burning behind them as people jump into the sea and Stede smiles proudly. It's a massive change from Stede's panicked response to 'accidentally' killing Nigel. He's quite content-proud of himself! Just like Nigel, the aristocrats represent and showcase colonial violence, their deaths are all played for comedy and without sorrow (unlike Karl or Lucius) because the show is so anti-colonialist-and has no sympathy for those who represent it. While Stede struggles to feel righteous anger for himself in terms of responding to Nigel's oppressive force-he is plenty able to on Ed's behalf.

For Ed, this act completely changes how he sees Stede. In this scene, Stede has not only demonstrated he is willing to be rough and fight back when needed (not just a simple tender rich man), but he willing to betray his own class and race for Ed. "Cut loose" is a significant line-cut loose as in-have fun, be unhinged, but also cut ties from his own people. It's only BECAUSE Stede does this we can even have the moonlight "you wear fine things well" scene. Ed no longer sees Stede as a rich target he won't feel bad taking out-he sees someone who cares about his feelings and willing to resist the forces colonialism with him and more importantly FOR him.

"You wear fine things well" is an unwitting seduction on Stede's part-because to Ed it is reassuring him-he is just as fine, worthy, and precious as he hoped to be as a boy. Stede is showcasing he does not view Ed in the stereotypes of his race at all, which have marked many of Ed's interactions at sea for the majority of his life. By the end of this episode Ed is infatuated with Stede: they're similar in their eccentricities, Stede empathizes with his plights, and he's enchanted by his courage to defy convention. Not that he'll ever lay his heart bare to tell Stede at this point. Especially when he sees Stede doesn't go in for a kiss like he does. He's never had this kind of equal and relatable relationship with another person-and most likely never assumed it would be with a white man.

So he starts flirting.

Many have pointed out the "Stab me" scene is clearly Ed's attempt to flirt-to get Stede physically close to him, it's also demonstration of how in a hyper-masucline setting so much bonding is done via violence. We can imagine this may have been how the sexuality went between Calico Jack and Ed. But Stede's version of masculinity, romance, etc, is so different from this high seas violent courtships-the attempt goes over his head. That's why Ed is agonized with the push to kill him by Izzy in episode 6. He does his best to convince himself, like Izzy says, Stede is a pet, a passing infatuation/lust, but the reminder of his childhood trauma from the 'fuckery' is too much to bear. Stede is not like his Father, or other white men he's killed, he's Stede, he listens, he's already protected and defended Ed once-and joined Ed in his absurd behavior stepping outside of all masculine expectation with him, so he's willing to open up and tell Stede what happened-especially since Stede seeks him out after his panic attack.

Obviously this is an extremely intimate scene on its own, but the fact Stede is someone Ed can fall apart in front of, cry, express his distain for the tenants of his own power, brings Ed even closer to him. This kind of emotional showcase would've had the opposite effect with any other men Ed knew as Blackbeard. But unlike Jack, or Izzy, Stede makes so much space and empathy to comfort Ed's emotions. It's not often a man of color's vulnerable emotions are put on screen as a central important plot point to be given weight and tender time to.

It's worth noting how Ed being the seducee and attempting to anxiously win back Stede's affections is a departure from historically racist depictions of interracial romances on screen. Quite often in the past we saw the POC member of a pairing containing a white person, was often characterized as being more animalistic, rough, or aggressively sexual. While Ed is clearly more traditionally masculine and hardy as pirate-he's given the role of the infatuated one-the one pining tenderly (plus we see Stede commit more violence on screen than we do Ed!). Ed's given a beautifully rich emotional score of being romanced, in a setting on the sea where the pair have equal footing of privilege. They're pair of equals bonding over their odd (to everyone else) behavior.

While Ed refers to himself as a Kraken, a mythical monster-that imagery is part of the racialized violence he'd endured all his life. The fact in that scene Stede does not reinforce that imagry but instead tells Ed he's his 'friend' is so monumental for Ed. As someone who has been on a journey of learning violence is at times unavoidable to survive against oppressive forces, Stede answers Ed's murder plan with empathy and relief. It completly undercuts the racist idea that either one of them is more 'naturally violent' with Ed in tears over the fact he no longer wants to commit murders to survive. Ed's humanity and tender emotions are put at the forefront of the show multiple times-asking the audience not to stereotype him in a caricature-even if other white characters are willing to. (Which is why fan depictions that lean into making him a literal monster are regressive at least, and racist at worst)

Episode 7 and 8 really showcase how Ed has no idea what to expect of Stede. He spends most of episode 7 feeling rejected and far too vulnerable (after that bathtub confession), since Stede has not openly returned his flirtations (And perhaps rightfully wary from his previous experiences with white men) and it is only when Lucius spells out to Ed that the entire expedition is meant to be a gift to Ed from Stede, he relaxes. Once he knows Stede is somehow returning his affections, he reconsiders his plan of running away and agrees to co-captain with him.

When Calico Jack shows up in episode 8 he throws a wrench in everything-but also provides us interesting backstory for Ed and his relationships with white men. He tells Stede "You two have a lot in common", which can seem like a humorous throw away line since Jack and Stede couldn't be more different in their presentation of masculinity. I would argue what Ed sees and is referring to-is that Jack and Stede are two white men who seem extremely uninterested in prescribed colonial masculinity and that is what stands out to Ed. That isn't to say Jack's version of toxic, violent, frat-boy, immature, masculinity is healthy-but Ed can recognize they are both outliers from proper navy officers. (Ed's perspective is demonstrated in episode 9, when he tells Chauncey "you all look alike", a joke yes, but also how much these proper colonial white men blend together for Ed.)

Stede has made enough of an impression on Ed though-and shown him such a space of alternative masculinity-he is willing to sacrifice EVERYTHING for him by getting back on the ship instead of rowing away with Jack. Once again the English officers attempt to re-affirm their structure of colonization on the sea-such as when Chauncey tells Ed "He's from my world not yours" in regards to having the right to execute Stede. Ed however returns the previous gesture of Stede's- betraying his legacy as a pirate by taking "An Act of Grace".

Piracy is once more a metaphor for colonial resistance since Chauncey attempts to argue Stede isn't a 'real pirate' and therefore can not have an "Act of Grace". But once again we see Stede's chaotic, more tender version of masculinity shine through, as his 'piracy' is proven from his simple abduction and nourishment of a plant-not any amount of bloodshed. Chauncey throws a fit, as it is another example of piracy and masculinity not playing by traditional colonial rules.

Despite being thrown back into a colonial setting at the reform school-Ed and Stede are now in position where both have been entirely stripped of their power. It is what lets them kiss on the beach without the imbalanced power dynamics of colonial society-and just themselves. It's truly touching moment because it's the pair of them wanting each other, even without all their fineries or power attached-which is why they're in the same outfit. It's a really remarkable way of doing an interracial relationship in media-Ed and Stede's power dynamics are communicated via their outfits throughout the show.

When Stede chooses to return to his family-it's only after he receives a scolding, for betraying the colonial role he was given (A Father, obeying naval officers, etc) he chooses to leave Ed feeling such immense guilt for straying from his designated role and privilege (plus the idea his tender form of masculinity as emasculated Blackbeard). There's even an element of white privilege Stede is able to return his comfortable life immediately, rather than being tracked down by the English for abandoning his post. But once home, the show demonstrates so well-and Stede can finally acutely see-he never belonged in this abusive colonial system. And the people who manage to find happiness within it-only do so by deviating (Mary having her affair, widows riding themselves of toxic husbands, etc) from that abusive system's demand. Stede leaves Barbados, free of guilt from Chauncey's death, and walking away from the abusive system this time recognizing it is the right thing to do. Most significantly, Stede relinquishes one of the sources of his colonial privilege-wealth.

It's a complete commitment to change, the world of piracy, and Ed. It's Stede finally recognizing violence against colonial forces (such as killing the Badminton twins) is needed, because they are so oppressive and violent in and of themself. It's Stede recognizing walking away from colonial forces (the heteronormativity of his previous life) is needed for happiness and freedom-and that includes sacrificing the comfort of wealth. Stede returns to the sea without the pomp and flash of his former privilege, ready to commit to a life of rebellion with Ed, against that world. It makes sense coming from this place of privilege, and choose to let it go (rather than having it revoked) Stede finds himself in a 'happy' ending at the end of Season 1.

Ed however, is ending the season feeling the brunt of colonial violence. Stede leaving him (which we can perceive is how he sees the interaction, since if he imagined Stede dead he probably wouldn't of thrown out all his things) is an example of Stede behaving how Ed feared an upper class white man would see him as. Disposable, which is what drove his anxiety in episode 8 to leave with Jack "You would always see what I am". Ed has been trying to avoid being hurt this entire relationship with Stede and he failed. Izzy's threat, another example of white violence, pushes Ed over the edge to make him shut down completely to protect himself all this white violence. It's a violent change for Ed because not only did he believe someone saw him past all the stereotypes he'd been pushed into in his life-he also must be furious at himself he dared to think Stede could be better than his previous interactions with white men.

Ed has every right to be furious and feel deeply betrayed. I would even argue he has every right to attack Izzy after Izzy spent so much time threatening him and berating his new-found more tender masculinity. It's worth noting if you watch Ivan and Fang in episode 6 they remark how nice it is to see Ed so 'open and available' and when Ed is singing in episode 10, Fang watches on with a tender sympathetic expression. The other men of color understood how monumental it was for Ed to have a chance to be seen as more than just a vehicle of violence. Unlike some people I don't think 'utterly heartbroken in a robe singing sad songs Ed' is 'true' Ed entirely. I think he still has plenty of chaos and anger against colonialism in him-but surviving via violence and constantly bearing his teeth has grown draining for him, and he would prefer to be softer and more expressive if he has the choice.

Stede completed his arch resisting colonialism-so I wouldn't be surprised if we DO get season 2 from Ed's POV. Stede's ignorance is part of the reason he did not pause to consider as much as he thought leaving Ed would help him-would also wound him. Stede returned to his privilege and power, and while it finally helped him see the light-it caused an immense amount of harm to Ed-and did not consider how deep his feelings were at all. It would be likely in a show that has done so well to set up a stage that an interracial relationship can flourish challenging previous structures of power, and putting two wildly different men on the same power level-it now shifts to the man who's at the crisis and crossroads of his identity like Stede was at the start of season 1. It's my hope season 2 would conclude with the pair of them standing firmly in their identities, knowing they can exist outside of the role colonialism attempted to press them into.

#ofmd #our flag means death #edward teach #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #ofmd meta #poc of ofmd #shit this is LONG #I'm sorry but this show is brilliantly written i had to scream #also #stop making Ed into a literal monster #PLEASE #this is very stede focused since I already wrote at length on Ed #my writing

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Amplification: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: A deadly spread of Anthrax is going around infecting and killing people. One of your own is affected that completely tears your world into two. How will you over come this?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

The bookstore has been closed ever since Albert died, and Gayle's purchase happened right before it closed down. It would explain why only three people were hit, and when General Whitworth sent his men in for testing, they came back positive for Anthrax.

Albert's bookstore was the unsub's test run. He's gotta have a history with the place, so Penelope needs to come up with a list of present and past employees of the place, customers with grievances against the owner, and if any of them had a science background.

An attack of Anthrax isn't meant to kill three people inside a bookstore, it wants to be out in the open where it can feed and multiply in the way that it wants to. Just a small amount can wipe everyone out, and they'd never see it coming.

Another hour goes by and the six survivors of the attack are now down to four. This attack is killing people left and right and there is nothing you can do about it. The more they die off, the more family members demand answers for what's happening.

"It feels like the plague of Egypt," Linda says.

"Ten scourges created by God. Plague six was unhealable boils believed by biblical scholars to be caused by Anthrax."

"You never missed Sunday school, did you?"

"Actually, I've never been before. How is she doing?" Spencer asks about Abby.

"She's a fighter. She's held on this long because she's young and strong, but she's started to bleed into her lungs. We're running into another problem, though. When the next of kin have questions, what do we tell them about the cause of death?"

That is a question only Hotch and General Whitworth can answer. You can't tell anyone anything without punishment if it didn't come from Hotch. Instead of thinking things like that, you can try and think of the unsub and profile you have on him. It might help your team catch whoever is doing this.

Because the locations aren't symbolically significant, the attacks are personal. Understanding the significance of the locations will be the key to identifying the unsub.

This personal element strongly indicates a home-grown terrorist like the Amerithrax case. This is someone from the science or defense community. That's why the CIA is here. Hotch thinks they may know him. These home-grown terrorists are myopic zealots that believe that their work is of the greatest importance.

He may have preached about the threat of an attack on America. His coworkers would describe him as histrionic, paranoid, and secretive. He may have logged excess hours at work in the past weeks preparing for the attack. He even might have taken the full dosage of Anthrax vaccines over the recommended eighteen-month schedule and had yearly boosters.

This guy has his own workspace where he makes his product in privacy. He also has access to large, expensive, industrial-grade equipment at work. He's written about the threats of Anthrax attacks and published papers about it, yet he feels no one is listening, and that angers him. Now, he may have recently experienced some sort of professional humiliation like being demoted or fired. Now, that would have been his trigger, the moment he decided to go rogue.

He may have betrayed his loved ones to his cause and may be recently separated or divorced. This is somebody who knows every detail of the 2001 Anthrax attack and has talked about what that suspect did right or wrong. He's watching the news very closely to see how the country reacts, and it's not a good one.

The CIA dug deep into their records and found a video of a classified hearing with the Subcommittee on Defense and Homeland Security in January of 2002. Dr. Lawrence Nichols used to work at the institution and left in 2002. The video is sent to your team at the hospital, Derek's team in Maryland, and the main office with everyone else. You and Spencer go into an empty hospital room to watch the video. Dr. Nichols went to the Senator to ask for money for a project he wanted to do with dangerous chemicals. He went to talk to the Senator about the attack in 2001 and why he should have funding for his project.

"Five people died. If you ask me, we're lucky it was just five. We're lucky that whoever sent these letters used cheap porous envelopes and not a crop duster. America's enemies are capable of wiping out entire cities, and we are woefully unprepared."

"I'm looking at your proposal--"

"Yes, sir," Dr. Nichols cuts the Senator off. "Every household needs gas masks and a two-month supply of Cipro for each resident. Every major city needs hospitals with bio-safety decontamination capabilities."

"Regarding the budget you propose for this operation--"

"Anything short of fifty billion would be grossly negligent."

"Dr. Nichols, you've got to realize how unrealistic that is. We can't justify spending that kind of money on an attack that may not happen."

"You people are in denial!" Dr. Nichols exclaims.

"Doing this would incite fear and panic among the public."

"This country should be panicked! We should live in utter fear of being attacked! We live in a time of war and WMD proliferation. If you continue to be blind to our lack of preparedness, then Americans will die, and I will have no problem in pointing the blame at you!"

The committee didn't fund his project and rejected him because he was becoming unstable and fanatical, which is why they removed him from Fort Detrick and blacklisted him from other prominent positions. Even though he believes in preparedness, he felt like people weren't listening. He might have done this to prove a point.

He fits the profile of the unsub to a T. He had access to research on Anthrax, had the resources available to do something like this, lost a highly respected job, and got divorced in the process. The job he has now is through a company called Bio-Design Technology that doesn't deal with Anthrax but with the Flu. If he got demoted from working with such deadly diseases to working with the flu, he might be angry enough to use Anthrax as a weapon.

Either way, you need to bring him in.

Derek pulled you and Spencer from the hospital to go to his house while Emily and Rossi went to his work to see if he was there. Along with you, Spencer, and Derek, a hazmat team joined you so they can clear the inside of his house. You have to wait outside until they're done with their investigation.

"It's clear so far," one of the members says when he hears from one of his men inside.

"Alright, keep me posted." Derek turns to you and Spencer. "This guy just had people over for a charity event last month."

"We should probably take a look around anyway."

You three walk to the backside of the property when Spencer hisses in pain. You look over to see rose bushes with thorns sticking out of the stems. He must have cut himself on the thorns but isn't too concerned about it. For someone who messes with Anthrax, his backyard isn't too sketchy. There is a pool with a beautiful gazebo area and lots of blooming flowers. Derek's phone rings and he answers whoever it is.

"Yeah, Princess, what's up? ... Uh-huh. Yeah, we're here now. ... Sorry. what? The lab is clean? ... You're sure? ... All right." You watch Derek as he talks to Emily. You're not paying attention to Spencer who goes off on his own. He turns to you and Spencer to tell you what she said. "They got nothin'--Where's Reid?"

You look behind you to see Spencer run into the large shed in the backyard. You and Derek quickly follow after him, but he slams the glass door to keep you and Derek out of some kind of lab.

"Spencer!" you gasp.

"Morgan! Y/N! Get back!"

"What the hell are you doing? What's wrong?"

"Believe me, get back."

"Reid, open this door!"

"Spencer, open the damn door!" you yell and slam your hands on the glass.

"I'm sorry. You can't come in here."

"No, open the door," you whimper. The only reason he would be trapped inside there and refuses to let anyone inside is that this is the place where Dr. Nichols created his Anthrax poison. "Spencer, no, open the door."

"I'm sorry," he sighs.

"Come on," Derek says and puts his hands on your shoulders.

"No!" you gasp. "I can't leave him. I'm not leaving him. Call Hotch and get people out here now! I'm not going anywhere!"

Derek has no choice but to listen to you. He needs people out here now if Spencer has any hope of making it out of this alive. Derek leaves and gets Hotch on the phone, and you look at your boyfriend with tears in your eyes.

"Open this door, Spencer, or I'm gonna break it."

"Don't, Y/N. There is white powder in here, and the air is blasting."

You let out a heartbreaking sob and put your hands to your mouth to quiet them. Spencer's heart breaks at the sight of you crying for him. Hotch and the biohazard team arrive quicker than you thought they would, and Derek tells Hotch where you are.

"Y/N, get out of there."

"I can't leave him," you cry. "I'm not leaving him alone!"

"Please don't cry."

"Spencer, I've seen what this does to people. There has not been one survivor and you're infected now. If the cure is not in there, then you're gonna..." You can't even say it. "I can't lose you. I love you so much."

You place your hand flat on the glass and Spencer puts his hand over yours.

"You need to get out of here."

"I can't leave you!"

"I will be fine."

He doesn't believe what he's telling you because he doesn't know if he's going to make it out of here alive or not. He's lying to protect your feelings but he forgets that you can tell when someone is lying. Your chest feels heavy and your whole body is shaking from fear. Your legs can't hold you up any longer so you fall to the ground in a heap of tears. Someone from the biohazard team comes in and places their hand on your shoulder.

"Ma'am, you need to leave."

"Y/N, listen to them."

"Spencer," you gasp.

The man practically forces you out of the shed to where Hotch and Derek are. Derek catches you when your legs wobble.

"I need to be in there, please. I can't leave him alone. He's scared, Hotch," you cry.

"Y/N, you need to calm down."

"I can't," you hiccup. "I can't lose him."

Hotch needs you to calm down so he calls Spencer and places him on speakerphone so you can hear his voice.

"Hotch, I really messed up this time," Spencer sighs.

"Reid, we need to get you out and to the hospital."

"No, I'm staying right here."

The tears won't stop rolling down your cheeks.

"No, Spencer, please leave. You need medical attention," you cry. "Please!"

"Y/N, I'm already exposed. It's not gonna do me any good to stop working on the case."

"He's already infected," General Whitworth says. "If Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure."

"Look, Dr. Nichols is in here but he's dead. Someone must have bashed something in his head. My best chance is to stay here, see if there's a cure, and try to figure out who killed Dr. Nichols."

"Hotch, say something to him!"

"He's right. His best chance is inside. We're gonna get a suit and mask into you right away."

"Don't bother. it's not gonna do me any good. I'm already infected."

This thing killed the first three victims within hours.

The thought of losing Spencer is something you can't even fathom. The thought hurts too much, and your chest starts closing up.

x

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #series rewrite #cm season 4

[ceruleanwhore]

Aang As a Father, in Response to LoK

⚠️CAUTION⚠️

This post is full of Aang and kataang hate. If you like Aang and/or ship kataang in any capacity, scroll on for the sake of your mental and emotional wellbeing. Thank you!

When Avatar: Legend of Korra came out, I remember there being tons of discussion around how much Aang sucked as a father and how surprised everyone was, even some of us who never really liked him as a character. However, I’ve been thinking about it today, and the conclusion I’ve reached is that not only is it not surprising that Aang was not a very good parent, but it was inevitable. The one thing I disagree on that I’ll get to at some point in here is how he sucked at parenting in canon as opposed to how I think he was set up to fail at it given the direction he was headed with his canon characterization.

I’d like to start by getting into that characterization and discussing some of the elements of Aang’s canon personality that I think are relevant. In the series, yes, as we all know and as Aang stans love to point out ad nauseum, he’s just a mere bitty child, but we can also see some of his flaws that, even in his 12-year-old self, have some serious consequences at times. Canon Aang is a messy cocktail of toxic positivity, selfishness, avoidant tendencies, impulsivity, and a dangerous lack of emotional control. He does things like casually throw away the fate of the whole world over his god-given right to have a crush on a girl and then, in the next season, compare that same girl’s experience of losing her mother to his radically different experience of losing his pet for a couple weeks as he tells her to get over it. He also has a tendency to go into the freaking avatar state when he’s upset about something and cause serious damage to everything around him until Mommy calms him down. Even when he doesn’t go into the avatar state, he does things like verbally abuse his friends and abandon them in the desert when Appa goes missing.

All of this is completely relevant to who a hypothetical adult Aang would be and what he’d be like because, all throughout the series, there is never any accountability from Aang. He literally never takes responsibility for the things he does and makes amends or even just apologizes in a meaningful way because he never has to — the narrative makes sure of that. That’s the key part of Aang’s flaws, that Bryke genuinely thought they made a perfect good guy and had nary a crumb of self awareness that they accidentally made him a raging asshole who is constantly being rewarded for his shitty behavior. Even when he’s clearly in the wrong, like with the Bato situation in s1, they somehow turn it around so yeah, I guess he fesses up and apologizes but, at the end of the episode, Sokka and Katara are apologizing to him and there’s no lasting consequences for the shitty thing he did. Because of this crucial element of the story and Aang’s character, it is very likely that he’d go his whole life being a dickhead while continuing to never have consequences for that and somehow managing to maintain his friendships and relationship with Katara.

I want to kind of go through these one at a time, starting with the lack of accountability. Since Aang is the avatar, literally no one in the whole world of atla actually has authority over him, at least once he’s an adult. His peers are his equals but, even though Katara, Toph, and Zuko taught him his bending, they don’t really have any tangible authority over him as his teachers. Combine that with the fact that none of Aang’s friends really ever criticize him or hold him accountable for his actions and it becomes very clear that, as a father, he will never actually be held accountable for being a bad parent. What goes with this is that he also won’t be open to advice because he assumes he always knows best and the narrative also supports and rewards that. Between the two, he’s set up so that when he inevitably turns out to be a lousy father, there will be nothing anyone can say (assuming they would even say anything at all) to help him improve.

With this in mind, let’s start into the actual character flaws that, as concluded above, won’t be corrected at any point, starting with the toxic positivity. One of Aang’s most recognizable characteristics is his bright, cheery disposition which can be a good thing but also leads to him being very dismissive of anyone else’s problems or negative emotions. As a parent, he would never take his children’s problems seriously and would simply brush them off and tell his kids to practice detachment and just let go of whatever is bothering them, regardless of how serious the issue is or how much it matters to the kid. This will teach the kids both not to even try to bring their problems to at least one of their parents and also that any problem they have is actually inconsequential, so even when they do have really big, serious issues in life, they won’t be able to recognize it as such and get whatever help they might need. It also will convey to them that their own father just doesn’t really care about them, at least not enough to engage with them in any capacity about anything serious.

Next up is Aang’s selfishness. Throughout atla, we see time and time again that Aang struggles greatly with prioritizing literally anyone else over his own comfort and desires. He was more than willing to sacrifice the whole world for his ability to avoid having to engage in conflict and then, in season 2, he showed that he was 100% willing to sacrifice the whole world for his crush on Katara. It’s not just that he tends to thoughtlessly give into his impulses and desires without giving thought to how it affects others, it’s also that, because of who he is, that has the potential to cause immense damage and he still doesn’t care. As a father, he would always put himself before his wife and his children. He would treat Katara at least as badly and unfairly as he did in canon and his children would have the lovely experience of watching that and also growing up in a household where their wants and needs don’t really matter to their own father.

Another key factor when it comes to Aang’s personality is his avoidant tendencies. We see multiple times throughout the series just how far he’ll go to avoid doing things he doesn’t want to do, like preventing the world from complete destruction. In his household, I imagine he’d want no part of any of the real, ‘messy’ aspects of parenthood and would just have Katara do all those things. Anything to do with the mess of child care (changing diapers, cleaning up spit up, any sort of wound care for scraped knees, etc.), conflict resolution between quarreling siblings, or correction of misbehavior would fall to her. He, like plenty of real men, would only want to do the cute, fun parts of parenthood, like taking the kids to Disney, while making Mom the ‘bad guy’ who has to do all the real work. 

Then there’s also the impulsivity. Aang tends to get these ideas of things he wants to do and then, without any further thought, just goes and does them. This can be pretty harmless when it’s something like wanting to go penguin sledding and then going off and doing it but, as we’ve seen, there’s plenty of times where it isn’t, like when he hides Hakoda’s correspondence from Katara and Sokka in s1 because he’s feeling pissy. In parenthood, I think this is where we ended up with the unfair treatment showed in LoK because it’s his impulsivity driving it, but I don’t actually think he’d be out here treating his kids differently based on bending abilities, I think they’d all be pretty equally getting the short end of the stick from him. 

The way I see his impulsivity coming out with his family is either with grabbing the kids to go do something on a whim (like riding the elephant koi) or going off on his own or with Katara on some spur of the moment trip that leaves their kids alone or drags them away from home for weeks at a time with no notice. If they’d leave the kids alone while going off without them, that could lead to trauma around neglect and abandonment while, if they take the kids with them, the kids get stuck being dragged along and then ignored while Aang goes off to do all the stuff he’s there for that the kids weren’t really ever supposed to actually be part of. I think that, with stuff like this, the avoidance, and the toxic positivity, he’d think that he’s setting himself up to be the cool, fun dad with Katara being made out to be the ‘bad guy’ when, in truth, he’s out here fucking up his children and they’re going to know and hate him for it in the end.

The last part is the matter of his inability to regulate his emotions. It’s bad enough for anyone to have to sit there and watch as the same toxic positivity dickhead then struggles with anger issues he never even so much as apologizes for, but for his kids, I’m sure it’s unbearable. My dad has struggled with anger issues my whole life, as have I, but we take responsibility and we’ve both spent over two decades working on ourselves, trying to get better. Aang would never do that in any capacity. For his children, they’d get this environment where they can never be upset at all because it bothers Dad but then Dad can fly off into the fucking avatar state as soon as he’s even mildly inconvenienced. This model of ‘you being upset is just a little inconvenience you need to get over but when Dad’s upset it’s a huge deal and he’s actually allowed to be upset’ would be downright infuriating to live with and would definitely contribute to their children’s childhood trauma. It’s not just that you’re not allowed to be upset, it’s also that you always have to be walking on eggshells trying not to set this guy off.

Another thing I would add to this last point is something I learned from my family that I think is relevant here. My dad genuinely thought he was totally normal and didn’t have any anger issues until my brother and I were born, and he also was always really great with other people’s kids and never had problems there until he was working on the railroad with two babies at home. Yes, we’ve already seen Aang’s anger issues in canon, but I would also speculate that his mood and stuff would get worse once Tenzin’s born. This could either lead to him being absent for most of the kids’ early childhoods as he’d just avoid being around them if they’re triggering him or his anger issues could get worse and more prevalent once there’s kids in the mix. Either would be detrimental to his children’s mental health.

So I guess my point here is that LoK having it so Aang’s whole issue with fatherhood is that he treated his kids unequally doesn’t really cover the ways in which he’s set up to be a terrible father. I really don’t think favortism would even be an issue (I think all 3 kids would get dragged around to air nomad stuff, not just Tenzin) but Lord knows there’s other issues to be considered here. As a father, Aang would be selfish, impulsive, dismissive, thoughtless, and hypocritical as well as probably struggling with completely unchecked anger issues. His children would have trauma because of him and they would hate him, but not because he would leave two behind while dragging the eldest around on vacations. The cherry on top of the shit sundae of Aang’s fatherhood is that he would have no self awareness whatsoever as all of this would go unchecked by his wife and friends, so he would genuinely believe that he’s a good, fun, loving father all the way up to the moment of his death.

#anti aang #aang critical #aang slander #aang salt #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #a:tla #avatar meta #atla meta

[daimyosprincess]

PART II: INTRODUCTION

—PAIRING: Professor!Boba Fett x F!Librarian!Reader

—SERIES RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—SUMMARY: Professor Fett helps you learn a few new things about yourself through some old-school discipline.

—WORD COUNT: 7.9k

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, professor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is mid-twenties and Boba is late forties), reader described as having enough hair to grab, dom/sub power dynamics (Dom!Boba and sub!reader), BDSM elements, reader is a BRAT and I love her, some self-discovery, some pinches of soft Boba for good measure, spanking, praise (so so much praise), use of pet names, making out, dirty talk

As always, let me know if I missed anything that needs to be tagged!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Ok so this ended up being wayyyy longer than I thought so I broke up this scene into two parts (don't be mad at me 😭). Also I like to think that life has been a little bit kinder to Professor Boba and thus he's a little softer around the edges when it comes to expressing emotion.

Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist

<Part I — Part III>

The two of you don't even make it through his door before you're on each other like a couple of teenagers, groping and gasping, grabbing whatever parts of the other you can get your hands on. Your purse and his keys are flung carelessly to the side—anything that wasn't the warmth of his or your body entirely unimportant. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in your ear, his breath hot and seductive against your heated skin, “this is what you wanted all along, isn’t it, princess?” The raw, molten want makes Boba’s voice even deeper—its rumble shakes your very core and it makes you gush as its ridges ripple over you. Bunching the slick material of your dress in his hands, Boba pulls the garment over your hips so you can straddle him properly when the pair of you collapse onto the couch.

Now freed to follow your desire, you slot your knees around his hips, a smart-mouthed reply ready on your lips. Before it can make it to his ears, however, Boba grinds his impossibly hard bulge into your aching center, pulling you against him roughly. Electric pleasure skitters up your nerves and he feels so damn good pressed tight between your thighs. All those nights you dreamed of this, all those self-indulgent daydreams, couldn’t come close to the tectonic gratification of Boba sliding against your throbbing cunt. 

The mewl that tumbles from your lips when he ruts into you again is positively pathetic, the sound of your desperation on full display despite your pretense of self-control. Your cheeks and ears burn with embarrassment, and you try to hide in the crook of his neck to pull yourself together—you don’t want to give him the upper hand, not just yet; you’ve still got some fight in you and you want him to earn it. His body under yours is more than you could ever imagine and still woefully not enough, you want him, you need him in the way a drowning man needs air. The struggle to get it would make your reward all the sweeter.

A laugh rumbles dark and heavy from the depths of his broad chest. “Don’t hide now, little princess, not when you were so eager just a few moments ago.” One of his large hands leaves your hips and skims up your side to cup your jaw, angling your face to back up to his. The hungry look in his umber eyes recalls images of gnashing teeth and hard-bitten pleasure, of sin itself in all its tantalizing glory.

You do your best to glare at the handsome man before you, but you know the battle is already lost, the cracks of your resolve echoing in your ears. “Wasn’t hiding,” you insist, your eyes rolling back behind fluttering lashes when the seam of his pants scraps along your center with luscious friction. Your hands slide up his chest to latch on to his lapels in an attempt to ground yourself against the unrelenting tide of him.

“No need to lie, not when I can feel that needy little pus-”

Your courage rallies at his taunting and you yank him forward by his collar to crash your lips into his, nipping at his lower lip in defiance. “You sure do like to talk,” you pant between the hot press of his mouth, “must be why you became a professor.”

Boba drops his hand down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat and squeezing. You squeal, your hips grinding down on his lap on their own accord. Fuck, I want him to do that while he’s balls deep in my guts. His large hand wrapped around your airway sets off an urgent, primal need that has been locked away in the mantle of your being, hidden and unanswered. It’s going to burn you alive, char you over until you’re nothing but a pile of ashes; it’s terrifying and exhilarating. Boba Fett is the answer to a question you didn’t even know you had, and by the fire in eyes and the set of his jaw he knows it.    

“You talk to everybody that way?” he grunts, tutting as he releases the pressure on your throat to just firm enough to be a reminder of its presence. The words stick to your tongue, so you answer with a disparaging expression that makes his eyes flash and your heart race. “Looks like you’re going to have to learn some manners then, little one, because I am not everyone.”

The obsidian gravel in his tone is tearing your sanity to shreds and by all the gods in the heavens you can’t find it in yourself to care—being whole never felt as good as this. Boba tugs you towards him by your neck, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “But that’s what you like, isn’t it?” he taunts, pure confidence dripping thick from his words, “You want someone who knows just what to do with a mouthy little brat like you, don’t you?”

The magma of his words melts your bones. Your composure is a shard away from shattering under the enormous pressure of your desire for everything Boba Fett has to offer. All you have to do is throw the final stone. “And I suppose you’re just the one to teach me some, then?” you retort with all the derision you can pull together.

“Oh, little princess,” he growls, deep and throaty, the vibrations of his desire magnifying your own, “I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.” He sears his assurance into your very soul with a white-hot kiss that’s all sharp teeth and fire, leaving you nothing more than a molten, gasping thing when he pulls back. “And you’re going to beg me to do it.”

You moan a curse, the sound long and heady. The rush of sensation, pleasure, anticipation, and pure carnal hunger fills your lungs, displacing any oxygen left in your chest. Rather than feeling fear, however, all that burns through you is craving, a perverse longing for predatory violence. You cant your hips over his straining erection like a creature in heat, chasing the relief that only he could ever provide.

As soon as the coil of pleasure in your belly begins to splinter, Boba tightens his fingers around your throat and presses you still against him. You writhe in his grasp, desperate for more friction and more of him. Blood is in the water and it’s overwhelming everything else in you.

“Easy now, you’ll get what’s coming to you, don’t worry, princess,” he assures calmly. “Now I’m going to let you go and you’re going to sit still.” There’s not even an inch of space left for disobedience in his tone. He releases your throat, massaging the delicate skin lightly before removing his hand completely to fall back to your hip.

It takes all your willpower not to wriggle and grind your soaked panties on his crotch. Biting down hard on your bottom lip, you suck in a deep breath to try and settle your screaming nerves, your eyes sliding shut. Rather than fighting him for control, you’re fighting yourself—and you don’t have much left in you.

Boba’s thumbs rub soothing circles into the softness of your sides. “There you go, that’s a good girl,” he coos in his smoldering timbre, a smile dancing on his words.

A bolt of pure lightning strikes down your spine straight to your slick core, splitting you in half and fusing you back together ragged and sharp all over again. Good girl good girl good girl. You’re on his lips in an instant, moaning and fervid. Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, I’ve never wanted anything so bad, I’ve never been this turned on in my whole fucking life-

When Boba tears you away from his lips with a hand around the back of your neck, you whine high and pitchy at being denied once more. “Hush,” he orders sternly, his handsome bronze features lined with seriousness. “Behave or this ends now.” 

The heat of the electricity pumping in your veins runs cold and you freeze, staring at Boba with wide, anxious eyes—you might just die if this stops. And dying without knowing him and what all this man is promising you is a fate even worse than death, so you do your best to swallow back the desperation in your gut.

“You going to be good?”

You nod fervently, eager to show your remorse so he doesn’t completely deny you. How in the hell is he keeping it together? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man with a harder cock in my life.

“Answer me,” he prompts, then adds more gently when your brows crease in confusion, “Use your words, little one.”

“Y-yes.” Your voice comes out tentative but sure. “I promise I’ll behave.” 

Who is this and what have they done with the girl who thought you were? Since when were you one to promise a man such a thing? And since when did you want to? Boba was right about one thing: he is certainly not like everyone else. If anyone else asked such a thing of you, even called you a single one of the little names he did, you would bite their head off. You never were one for bossy men in the bedroom—or life, for that matter—so why are you positively aching for it now?

“Good.” Boba rubs the back of your neck with a warm hand. “Good behavior gets rewarded,” he instructs, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. You do your best to stay still in his lap. “Tell me, princess, have you ever done something like this before? Let somebody else be in control?”

“Why, what does it matter to you?” You prickle at the thought that he would care about such a thing. 

“Easy,” he repeats patiently, “I’m asking because we need to make sure we’re both comfortable and on the same page if that’s what you want.”

Oh. That’s not what you were expecting. “Oh, um, no, not really. I’ve only really had, you know… regular sex?” You bat back the anxiety of disappointing him that gnaws at your ribs.

Boba hands settle at the small of your back, his calloused fingertips brushing light shapes over your satin dress. “So what makes you want something else with me?”

“You,” you blurt out before shame can stop you, only to feel the heat rising up your neck a second later. Scrunching your nose, you wince at your answer. 

Boba’s eyes sparkle with mirth, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that staves off some of your embarrassment. “Don’t be ashamed, little one, honesty is vital. What about me?”

Chewing your lip, you consider his question, fiddling with one of the shiny buttons of his dress shirt. “I don’t know… no one has ever made me feel this way. I didn’t know I could feel this way.” Boba doesn’t rush you, his fingers continuing their soothing designs. “I never thought I would want a man to tell me what to do or treat me like… like what you’re saying. But ever since I met you, you’re all I want… you make me think and want all these crazy things…” The burning desire in your belly has quelled to embers, but they still burn hot.

Peeking through your lashes at him, you turn the question around. “Do you want… what do you feel about me?” Obviously, you both want to fuck each other’s brains out—there’s no doubt in your mind about that—but Boba’s query has you wondering about his own feelings now.

Reaching up slowly, Boba brushes a scarred knuckle over your cheek to under your chin, holding you in place while he studies you. The sudden softness amongst his thunderous desire and being so plainly seen is a little unnerving, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. 

“You've got more nerve and a bigger mouth than any person I’ve met. You push buttons just to see what happens and you’ve got a fire in you that can't be put out. You’re stubborn and confident and have a wit that can cut a man to pieces,” he lists out. 

You gulp, dropping your gaze, unsure of what direction this is going to take. Boba swipes the pad of this thumb over the petal of your lip and you flick your eyes back up to his. They’re warm and excited, making you brighten. “You’re everything I crave, princess, and it all drives me fucking crazy.”

A warmth—a different, happy warmth—glows in your chest. You’re sure you have a big dopey smile stretched across your face but you couldn’t care less. Boba wants me just as much as I want him and he likes me. “I have that effect on people,” you giggle, nipping at his thumb below your lip playfully.

Boba arches a meaningful brow—behave—but the smile stays on his lips. “I bet that’s why you want someone to put you in your place so bad, isn’t it, little one?” He rolls his hips up into you, stealing all your focus with the promise of pleasure. “You’ve never had someone who could reign you in and give you what you really want, have you?”

You bite down around the moan bubbling up from your chest, clawing your way back to controlled composure, Boba’s efforts to the contrary be damned. Hell, how does he have such an effect on me?

“And just what exactly do I want so bad, hmm? Since you apparently have me so figured out,” you fire back, eyeing him up and down. All his talk is fanning the coals glowing in your core, making it harder and harder to stay still.

Boba leans back into the cushions, shifting his hips forward and bringing you with him by the hand splayed across the small of your back. You catch yourself with your palms pressed into the thick muscle of his chest, the heat of him sinking through the crisp material of his shirt into your waiting skin. 

“What you want,” he begins, his voice low and certain and his eyes dancing with dark fire, “is someone to take charge. Someone to make the rules and punish you when you break them, and reward you when you're good. Someone you can trust to shut that smart mouth up when no one else can.”

His thumb drags down your bottom lip and you clench to keep whimpering, your mind scrabbling for the last dregs of control as simmering arousal begins to pool hot and torrid in your belly. “Someone who knows your body better than even you do, someone to explore the limits and boundaries of your pleasure. Someone to take care of you, treat you like you deserve, worship that gorgeous body and send you back out into the world with more than just a memory of who that pussy belongs to.”

Boba leans into your neck, tilting his lips up to your ear and you tremble when the warm puff of his breath hits your damp skin. “But most of all, princess,” he whispers, a glinting lilt to his syllables, “you want someone who can make you beg for it.”

You’re unable to stifle the moan that tears from your chest this time, it scrapes up your throat and hangs heavy in the heated air between you. Your nails dig into his shirt’s fabric and you pitch into him, caught in the magnetic field of his words and promises. “Please, Boba,” you gasp, desire swelling in your throat, “please can I kiss you? I want-want to kiss you… please!” 

Your words shake, quivering with the last of your resolve—you want this, you want everything he said so fucking much and he knew it before even you did. Boba Fett did, in fact, know exactly what you want and it’s going to be the end of you.

“Look at my smart girl already learning some manners,” he praises, an air of teasing enveloping his statement. He feathers light kisses down your jaw and up to your lips, pressing a final kiss there before pulling back. Your lips follow his and he smirks at your neediness, clearly pleased with his effect on you. 

Lava creeps through your veins, melting you into the mold you never knew you wanted so desperately to fill. You’re burning to death in your own skin and you can’t wait for the sweet release of the reaper if it means he’ll give you everything he said.

“Let me hear you say it, little one, tell me what you want and it’s yours,” he prompts softly, his fingers tracing the soft outline of your clavicle.

The last of the fight bleeds from your body, sealing your demise—the old you is now dead and buried. The new you forms itself from the minerals of your bones, the iron in the soil, and the heat of his burning sun. Your forehead falls against his and your hips bump together, making you both shiver into one another.

“I want it, Boba,” you breathe into him, “Want everything you said, want it all so fucking much. Want you to show me. Want to be all yours.” The simple act of admission unlocks the cage you weren’t aware you were trapped in—all the choppy energy roiling inside you finally finding an outlet in Boba’s strong, able hands. 

His lips find yours this time, avid and keen on stealing the little air left in your heaving chest. You cross your wrists behind his neck, pressing every inch of you into every inch of him in an offering of desire. You confessed your sin and you’re ready to be blessed with his atonement.   

“It’s all yours,” he promises in urgent honesty against your lips, “I’m all yours, princess.”

You kiss in a hazy bliss for who knows how long, relishing in the confirmation of shared attraction and devotion, affirmations sealed into skin with the press of a lover’s lips. When the rhythm of your hips starts to speed up once again, Boba breaks away, much to your dismay. He’s set on ruining all my fun, you gripe internally, knowing that complaining aloud wouldn’t do any good on the man underneath you. The concentration set in his brow gives you some solace, however; you can see the restraint cording the muscles in his neck. 

“We need to set some rules first, princess, that’s how this works,” he explains. “Rules make sure no one gets hurt, they keep us safe, and they're what builds our trust.”

You tilt your head to the side. “But I do trust you.”

Boba smiles a warm, soft smile and chucks up your chin. “And that means more to me than you’ll ever know, little one. But, we still need to agree on a few things, negotiate what we’re comfortable with so when things get heavy we don’t accidentally cross each other’s boundaries.”

“So you don’t make all the rules, even though you’re in charge?”

He nods in confirmation. “That’s right. We’re equals in this exchange.”

“Oh.” Boba gives you time to ponder over everything he’s told you, rubbing his palms up and down your thighs slowly. “And can we add to the rules if we find out we don’t like something?” you ask after a moment.

“Of course,” he acknowledges, giving your legs a soft squeeze, “our rules grow and change with us.” 

You bite down on your lip, turning over his words in your mind. It all made sense now that you think about it; Boba didn’t seem like the kind of person who would want anything else, he is sure of his power and doesn’t need to steal it from others. That’s what makes him so damn attractive, it’s what made you trust him.

“So what are your rules? I don’t really know what mine would be,” you admit. You hope your uncertainty doesn’t stop him from tearing into your panties tonight. Judging from the hard press of him between your thighs, it doesn’t seem like it will, but you’re soaked and desperate for him. All the vibrators in the world wouldn’t make up for his touch if he denies you tonight, even if it’s for the best.

Boba smiles, pleased with your openness. “First is honesty. When I ask you a question, you need to tell me the truth and vice versa. If something hurts too much, tell me. If something makes you uncomfortable, say so.” His tone is firm enough to set a boundary, but soft enough to invite clarification if needed. “I will only ever give and accept honesty when we’re like this.” 

That’s nothing I can’t handle. You nod. “I can do that.”

“Good. Second is respect, for yourself and for me. Respecting yourself means listening to what your body tells you, making sure your needs are met, and asking questions when you’re unsure of something. Respecting me means using your manners and trusting me when I say enough. Even if that sweet little pussy tells you otherwise.” He taps his fingers on your back for emphasis.

You duck your head, heat rising in your cheeks at the thought of him finding out just how sweet you can be. “O-okay,” you stutter, the warring desire to give up control and snatch it back is nearly giving you whiplash. You wriggle a little around Boba’s thighs, itching for an outlet for your energy building in your core.

He soothes his hands down your ribs, their callouses catching on the satin of your dress. “You’re doing so good for me, princess, being so patient when you’re all worked up. Look at me,” he commands softly, and you peek back up at him, warm with his praise. “We’re almost done but I need to know that you’re listening.”

Sucking in a steadying breath, you shift your weight back against his legs, sitting up straighter. You want to please him, earn more of his approval any way you can.

Satisfied, Boba nods and continues, “My third rule is a little different, but I think it will help since this,” he gestures at the space between you, “is new to you. I want you to try whatever I ask of you at least once. If you don’t like it, you can tell me and we won’t do it again.”

You can’t imagine he could do anything to you wouldn’t at least like a little bit but you nod in agreement. That voice of his could get you to try anything he asked.

“Which brings me to my next point.” Boba tilts his head in curiosity. “Have you heard of a safeword before?”

“Like the thing a person says when they want to stop?” you answer tentatively, your fingers loosely looping in the bunched material of his shirt.

“Exactly,” he beams, “Knew you were my smart girl.”

His praise makes it feel like the sun itself is shining through your ribs, dazzling and quenching a thirst you didn’t know your soul had—it’s utterly addicting. Just another way he’s going to absolutely ruin me.

“When one of us says the word, everything stops immediately, no questions and no consequences. We’ll talk about what went wrong, maybe not right then if it’s too overwhelming, and we can work through it together. Does that make sense?” he asks, searching your face for understanding.

“Yes, it does.” As you stare into his brown eyes, a sudden, overwhelming wave of fondness for the man before washes over you, dragging you under the weight of the bone-deep feeling. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your face into the dip of his shoulder.

“Hey… hey,” Boba murmurs softly into your temple, running reassuring hands over your back, “I know it’s a lot to take in all at once, babygirl. It’s alright, nothing has to happen tonight. All this can end right now. Forever, if you want it to.”

Babygirl. Of all the pretty names he’s called you, it's the softest, most endearing. A promise of his tenderness and protection.

“No, ‘s not that,” you mumble into his shirt after a moment. He’s so warm, so perfect, so strong and patient… hell, he even smells like everything you’ve always wanted, cool earth, warm wood, and balmy spices. And the sound of his voice… oh, the sound of his voice when he calls you princess and babygirl, it's the most delicious music to ever grace your ears. Is it possible to love someone after just four weeks?

“Take your time, I’m right here,” his voice rumbles from his chest into your own. You let yourself melt into him, all your muscles going loose. He traces nonsense patterns over your shoulders and spine as you ride out the staggering emotion rolling through your body. Everything about him is so new, so unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, and yet he settles into your soul like a long lost piece. It’s overwhelming.

Eventually the tide of it all pulls back and is replaced by a renewed fire flickering to life in between your thighs. Now that your body has caught up with your mind, your desire is bright and sharp. Easing up from your cradled position, you place a quick kiss on Boba’s soft lips. “Thank you… I’m good now.” You brush your palms over the broad expanse of his chest as if you can sweep away what just happened, skirt the magnitude of it all to get to the pleasure. “Where were we? Safewords?”

“Not so fast, little one. Remember the first rule, honesty? I need to know what’s going on up here,” he taps a finger against head, “before we can continue.”

You groan, letting your head fall back against your shoulders. Feelings are hard and… embarrassing.

“Do I need to remind you about the second rule?” he asks more firmly this time. 

You huff and bob your head back to the front. “No, ‘respect for me and you,’ I remember.” Exhaling a long breath, you force your eyes to meet his. “It’s just that… that…” His gaze is too hard to hold while you try to get your sentiments to coalesce into actual words, so you scrunch your eyes closed. “It’s just that you’re so fucking hot and perfect and patient that it’s like you walked out of a dream and I don’t want to wake up if this is a dream and I’m so wet I think I’m going to lose my mind and-” 

The feeling of Boba shaking beneath you makes you stop mid-sentence and crack open an eye. You’re met with an amused grin and sparkling brown eyes. “What’s so funny?” you demand, folding your arms over your chest defiantly.

“You really are something else, princess,” he chuckles, his mirth intertwined with affection. “But I didn’t mean to interrupt, go on.”

“No, not if you’re going to laugh at me,” you pout, turning your chin up dramatically.

“Hey, come on now,” Boba coaxes, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I can’t help what you do to me either.”

What I do to him. The idea that you do to him anything like what he does to you is an alluring one. Humming in consideration, you let yourself be led back into him like a flower turning back to the sun. “Fine. Let’s just say that I really, really like you, professor.”

Holding your face steady with his fingers on the swell on your cheek, he brushes his lips over yours. “That’s good to hear, pretty girl, because I really, really like you, too.” Boba lets you capture him for a languid kiss, his hands finding their way back to your hips to pull them flush against his own, his half-hard cock swelling as it grinds it against the lace of your panties. 

This time, you’re the one who breaks the kiss. “Now hurry up and tell me what else I need to know to get you inside of me,” you demand, dragging slow circles against him with your hips. You can only be expected to be so patient, after all.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” Boba teases, raking his eyes over your rumpled appearance. “You’re lucky I don’t have it in me to make you really wait. Now, rule number four is important, are you listening?”

You still in his lap, looking up at him with rapt attention, eager to hear what else he has to tell you. You nod, then remember he likes to hear your affirmation out loud. “Yes, I’m listening.”

“Good.” Affixing you with a libertine stare, his fingers dig into your hips. “The fourth rule, little princess, is no coming without permission.”

The skittering beat of your heart skips in your chest and the rushing sound of hot blood fills your ears. Your nails dig into his pectorals and your mouth goes dry as the bass of his words reverberates in your ears with their salacious implications. When you try to swallow the weight of it down your throat, it sticks to your tongue like sand; he would hold your everything in the palm of his hand, you would be at his complete mercy.

Your legs shudder at the fresh arousal slicking your folds and Boba smirks, his eyes dark and electric, the embers of his irises sparking with things promised. His gaze falls to the futile bob of your throat before crawling back up to your face. “That’s all for my rules, anything you want to add?” 

“N-not that I can think of right now… sir.” The epithet drips from your parched lips thick and sweet, dribbling down your chin like the dark juice of some exotic fruit. Paired with your hungry, sabled eyes, the sight makes Boba’s straining cock twitch against the heat of your inner thigh. Your tongue swipes over your lips and his eyes follow its movement with total attention.

“What do you want the safeword to be?” he asks after a tense couple of heartbeats, the heat of his desire curling up the edges of his words.

You think for a moment, then answer, “Kamino.”

“Looks like you really do hang on my every word.”

“Looks like you’re stalling.”

“Hmm, you look so pretty though,” he hums, “sitting in my lap all hot and bothered.”

Slitting your eyes in a siren stare, you lick your lips. “Bet I’d look even prettier underneath you naked and stuffed full of your cock.”

Boba groans, a strained huff puffing from his barrel chest. “Oh, I’m definitely going to have to teach you a lesson about patience after this one, little brat.”

“Can’t wait to attend that class, professor,” your murmur, swaying forward to steal a kiss from his soft lips.

Your joke earns you a quick chuckle from him before his face falls into something more serious. “So do all the rules sound good? Do we agree to them?”

You force yourself to actually sit back and consider all that he said instead of blindly agreeing to get to the part you want—him fucking you into whatever surface he throws you over. You’ve definitely jumped into bed with less forethought in the past, but those times weren’t this, they weren’t him. Your heart wasn’t on the line, and for once you truly care that your partner’s is too. “Yes, Boba, I agree,” you answer after a minute.

A smile like the sun shines forth from him at your acceptance. “Then these are our rules until we decide to revisit them. And it's ‘sir’ when we’re doing this. Repeat everything back for me, princess,” Boba directs. The glowing affection in his face and voice show his genuine appreciation for your cooperation as well as hint at his desire for what is to come.

The combination of his restraint and respect only heightens your intense need to have this man so deep inside you that you feel him in your very soul. “Honesty, respect, try things once, and n-no coming without permission. Kamino is our safe word. And I call you ‘sir,’” you list off obediently, doing your best to show him you took it all as seriously as him despite the arousal slicking up your thighs. 

“Good job, my smart girl! Now, I’m going to make you feel so, so good, sweetheart. So good, that when I’m through with you, I'm going to be the only thing left in that pretty little head of yours.” His purred promises and the unholy tint of his dark eyes have you clenching and squirming in his lap, the burning ache between your legs almost painful.

 Sliding his hands over the curve of your ass, Boba grips the back of your thighs and stands, hoisting your legs over his hip bones. You yelp, slinging your arms around his neck for balance and his chuckle buzzes in your ears and rumbles through the space in your chest. Carrying you down the hall, he nudges a door open, revealing the cozy interior of his bedroom. “You’re all mine now, princess, all mine to do whatever I like with,” he announces scornfully, “that’s what got you all riled up, isn’t it? Bet you’re so desperate you’d thank me for whatever scraps I give you.”

You know he’s baiting you, testing to see if you can keep your mouth shut and manners in place. Although it’s been barely two seconds since you rattled off the rules, you’re already sure you’re going to break the second one—probably often, if you’re being honest. But, if he wanted a docile, governable woman in his bed he certainly wouldn’t have picked you in the first place. “You gonna talk all night or are you gonna fuck me?” you challenge, biting down on his earlobe and tugging.

Boba claps an open palm against the plush of your ass and you cry out in surprise. It stings.

“Best show me some respect, pretty girl,” he hisses, “because punishment for breaking the rules is whatever I think you deserve, and I have plenty of ideas that’ll make you sorry.”

“Oh, what? Like you’re going to put me over your knee and spank me? I’m not a child,” you retort, rolling your eyes, your heart thundering in your chest. There’s no decorum to save you from his wrath now. But I’m not here for salvation.

Boba lets out a sharp, acidic laugh. “You’re right, sweetheart, you are all grown up. That means I don’t have to hold back… or stop when you beg me to.” With that, he sinks down to sit on the mattress and slings you face down across his lap like a rag doll. 

Blood is pooling in your brain, your muscles burning with tense adrenaline and your hands scrambling to cling to his leg at your sudden change in position. The thought of Boba doing just exactly as he promised has you clenching around nothing, much to your horror. Using his ankle as leverage, you crane your neck back to glower at the smug man. “You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you warn, though the lurid gleam in his eye tells you he absolutely would. 

Boba grins like the damn devil, his scarred hands shoving your dress up to reveal the bare skin of your cheeks in response to your threat. He lets out a low groan at the sight of your lacy crimson panties and traces a finger over the delicate material, sending a shiver rattling through you. 

“Oh, my pretty little princess,” he purrs, the dim light glinting off his canines, “you want this so karking bad, don’t you? You want someone to shut you up so damn much you’ll throw yourself right into the lion’s den to get it. Don’t worry, I know just what to do with brats like you.”

It feels like every last drop of moisture evaporates from your throat while your heart howls in your ears. You’re about to be burned at the stake and all you can think about is handing him the fucking match. “Do it then,” you spit out, digging your nails into his leg.

“You remember your word?” he confirms, his voice rough with authority.

Am I really going to let his man spank me? You swallow, your cunt burning against your panties. Both of your questions end up being answered by your mouth a second later. “Y-yes, sir.”

He smooths his broad palms over the globes of your ass, warming the skin up. “Good girl,” he praises, “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

Your face flashes with the dual heat of mortification and desire. The pool of arousal in your lower belly begins to scald your insides as his flames lick up your legs.

“Now, I was going to give you just five. But since you wanted to run that big mouth of yours so much, you’re going to get ten to make sure you learn your lesson,” Boba taunts, harshly palming the flesh in his hands. “And you’re going to count each one out loud for me, understand?”

Your brain is boiling with the opposing urges to try to twist out of his grasp or kowtow to his every demand. Boba runs his thumb under the waistband of your lingerie and snaps it against your skin. You squeak and shuffle in his lap, your answer spilling from your lips. “Yes, sir!” Evidently, your mouth had a mind of its own. 

Or do I actually want all of this as bad as he says I do? Before you can ponder that revelation any further, however, a crack splits through the room and stinging pain erupts across your right cheek. “Shit!” you cry out, your back arching up off his thighs at the searing blow.

“What, you thought I was going to go easy on you?” Boba barks out a laugh and shoves you back down, rubbing a soothing hand over the prickling skin. “You little brats always think you can just do whatever you want and get away with it, that’s why you need someone to mark you up and remind you who’s in charge. Now remember to count or you get more.”

The number comes out as a croak. What had you gotten yourself into? Why is this making you even wetter? And why do you want him to do it again?

All those questions scatter as the next four strikes land in quick succession, sharp and precise across the expanse of your backside. Each one sends you sprawling across his lap and Boba rubs a comforting hand over your abused flesh as you squirm back into position. Your voice sounds utterly wrecked when you stammer out the number five.

Tucking an arm around your waist, Boba leans down to gently scratch his fingers against your scalp. The juxtaposition of his pain and pleasure is dizzying in the best way, like the golden buzz of sweet wine mixed with the harsh burn of honied whiskey. “You’re doing so good for me,” he hums, deep and warm, “taking your punishment so well. Knew you could do it, my strong girl.” 

The satisfaction of pleasing him burns bright in your chest. More dangerously, however, it makes you want to do whatever it takes to hear it again.

He retracts his hand a few moments later and you groan at the loss of the pleasant scratching, your head following in its wake. Boba chuckles and rearranges your weight over his thighs. “You’re almost done, you can do five more, can’t you, princess?”

Screwing your eyes closed, you press your face into his calf. “Yes, sir,” you grumble into the fabric of his pants. 

“Can’t hear you,” he taunts, kneading the heated flesh of your ass.

You repeat your answer louder. How is this so hot and embarrassing at the same time?

“Atta girl.” 

His next smack collides with the outside of your left cheek and you can’t decide if it hurts more or less when his hand comes into contact with new skin. Number seven and eight make you make you reconsider each time, and nine sends a plea rushing from your lips.

“Aw, is it too much for you? Too much for my little princess?” he mocks, his voice flush with false sympathy. “Maybe next time you’ll actually think before you open that disrespectful mouth.” His worn hands massage the pain into your rear as he continues on, his voice dropping to almost a groan, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this, sweetheart, waiting to teach you some goddamn respect. That’s why you act out, isn’t it? You’re desperate for someone to put you in your place, filthy brat.”

“Please!” you moan, your head swimming with want. You hear Boba’s breath catch and a curse hiss from his lips. Shit, did I say that out loud?! The final blow lands directly over the damp fabric stretched over your slit and you cry out in a mangled moan, jagged thrills of pleasure spiking through your core. “Ten!” you wail, relief swelling in your chest. It feels like your ass is on fire, pin pricks of pain needling your abused flesh.

Boba scoops you up, his powerful arms tossing your knees around his hips and he seals his lips over your own. “Fuck,” he pants into you, his cock twitching against your thigh, “you did so good for me, taking it all like the good little girl you are.” When you break for air, his hands come up to cup your face. “How’re you feeling, everything okay?” he asks, brushing his thumbs over the tops of your cheeks, “You can talk to me regularly, princess.”

You wince as your tender skin comes into contact with his thighs, but the pain is quickly dissolving into a warm, corrupted pleasure—like rubbing away the pain of a bruise. Your eyelids drift close, your cheek coming to rest on Boba’s own, seeking the comfort of his skin on yours. You don’t know just what you feel, not exactly and not yet. There’s so many feelings and thoughts flicking through your head, of desire and emotion and revelation, that it’s all a blur like a swirling sea. Boba stands as the one island in the vastness of this churning ocean, strong and steady—a refuge to weather the storm in. 

Rule one, be honest. Rule two, respect myself, listen to what my body tells me.

“Can… can you just hold me for a moment?” you whisper against him, leaning into his inviting warmth.

“Of course, babygirl, come here,” he murmurs, the domineering edge to voice gone. He eases you forward into his chest where you immediately find your favorite spot in the crook of his neck. “Is it too much?” he questions softly. “We can stop, I won’t be upset. This is about you enjoying yourself.”

“No…” you sigh into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent of him. “It’s… it’s just that I am enjoying myself. But I’ve never felt all these things and I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed or ashamed that getting spanked and talked down to makes me so fucking turned on. What does that say about me?”

An affectionate, comforting sound rumbles from his chest as he strokes the nape of your neck with light fingers. “Thank you for being honest, I know it can be hard.” He lets you snuggle up against him and continues once he feels the muscles in your shoulders relax. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying these types of things, it doesn’t mean you’re weak or any less of the confident, assertive woman you are.”

“So why do people enjoy it, then? Giving up control?” you press, hoping his experience would tell you something about your own. He always seemed to have all the answers. 

“Lots of reasons. Some say they like to give all the decisions to someone else, to clear their mind and just be told what to do. It lets them let go of everything and explore parts of themselves they don’t usually get to or don’t feel comfortable doing in the ‘real world.’ For others, they like pleasing their partner and the act of ‘being good.’ Some even find it empowering, letting their partner know exactly what they need them to do in order to experience intense pleasure. It can be a mix of these reasons or none of them at all, it’s different for every person,” he explains, resting his chin on top of your head.

While you see the appeal of those reasons, you’re not totally sure if any of them are what you’re looking for. It makes you wonder what Boba seeks in all this. “What about you, why do you like being in control?”

His chest rises and falls with a couple breaths, carrying you with him, before he answers. “It… it feels good to me, almost natural. It calms my mind and lets me focus, really and truly focus. Knowing that I decide the when, where, and how of someone else’s pain and pleasure… it’s powerful. The trust that my partner has in me is another facet of it, I enjoy making my partner feel safe and looked after.”

“You make me feel safe,” you sigh contentedly. “But I never… I’m not supposed to need looking after. I can take care of myself, I always have.”

“As you should. But everyone needs someone to care for them once in a while, princess, that’s why people like to do it in the bedroom. I like taking care of my partner, spoiling and rewarding them as much as I do punishing or denying them.”

Realization snaps into focus in your mind and you sit up, staring into the dark depths of Boba’s eyes. You can almost feel your pupils dilate as your thighs tense around his broad frame. Your mouth falls open but no words come out, your eyes pleading for his understanding instead. While the cage of your true desire had already been unlocked, it’s only now that you understand why.

“Oh,” he breathes, his chest shuddering with a sharp intake of air, “that’s it, isn’t it, little one? You want to be taken care of, spoiled… to have someone give you everything you’re too scared to ask for. You need permission to give it all up, don’t you? You need to know it’s okay to let go?” His eyes burn with the fires of your rebirth and you’re ready to be thrown on the pyre.

You nod hastily, earnest and eager, your teeth biting down on your lip. You need to know it’s okay to give up control of the blaze in your chest, that it would be fed and tended to carefully and with good intentions—that it wouldn’t be doused or tamped down to crushed coals. And maybe, if you were so lucky, it would even be funneled and fanned by expert hands that knew how to harness its power. 

“Oh, sweet girl,” Boba croons, the gravel of his rasping voice smoothed over with adoration, “precious thing, I’m going to take such good care of you. You can let go, my pretty little princess, I’ve got you, it’s okay. I’m going to treat you like you deserve, babygirl, don’t you worry anymore. Just let go.”

And just like that, your entire universe erupts into full color, your stars aligning with his planets to unlock your deepest desires. All it took was letting go.

<Part I — Part III>

#and so the smut begins #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #professor!boba fett #star wars fanfiction #professor boba fett #fanfic #ex libris fic #zwei writes

[respectthepetty]

Welcome to the Black Market

I actually watched episode five of Midnight Museum live-ish, so let's see how my theories unraveled in this episode:

The Lotus

The crescent moon, which symbolizes life and death, showed up several times, but the lotus was also clearly shown which symbolizes rebirth (I couldn't figure out if it was a crown or a lotus before). There is also a smaller crescent moon on top of the lotus.

That bbq body is about to get reborn.

Tarot Cards

Khatha was the Hermit, which I guessed he was the Emperor because of his clothing and position in the poster, but the Hermit would make sense since he mirrored the image when he first encountered Dome in the past but he didn't have a lantern, which is a key element to the Hermit due to his introspection.

Sidenote: The Emperor and Justice (who I think Khatha and Bam are) conflict with each other because they are two different types of rule and power.

Triphop was the Chariot, which is powerful and represents overcoming difficulties, but...he hid the card, so I still think he is the Hierophant unless that was his grandfather's position.

The High Priestess was the mystery woman.

New God

Last episode, Dome was told something about his mission involving a new god. The High Priestess left behind a bible with her card in it, and she recited Acts 2.19-2.20:

I will show wonders in the heavens above and signs on the earth below, blood and fire and billows of smoke./ The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord.

That bbq body is looking more and more godly.

Auction

There are six known Fabergé eggs still missing. They held surprises in them such as pictures or other treasures. The auction featured two because Triphop already lost one, and Khatha was outbid for the other.

Van Gogh created several sunflowers paintings which were part of a series. There are two known ones missing, but Two Sunflowers is not one.

Egyptian canopic jars hold vital organs that were removed during the mummification process. This set features the "four sons of Horus: the baboon 'Hapy,' representative of the North and protector of the lungs; the god 'Duamutef' jackel-headed guardian of the East, who protected the stomach; the hawk 'Qebhsennuf' of the West, protector of the intestines; and the god 'Imsety' of the South, human-headed guardian of the liver." Thank goodness Khatha won this because if homegirl is trying to Frankenstein/Build-a-Bear her way into a god, not having the organs would be a big obstacle.

This is the 1727 'Davidoff, Morini' Antonio Stradivari violin. It was stolen in 1995 from a locked room with no forced entry and hasn't been seen since. Some believe a ghost took it.

Although the the High Priestess bought a lot like Perseus' shield with the head of Medusa

She wasn't there to buy anything. She was there to confirm Khatha has what she needed - Dome, which he did by buying the Onmyōdō necklace. If Dome really is the Magician, he has the power to bring back the bbq body.

Brother?

Nope! We already know they aren't blood related in the past nor the present. Khatha first encounters Dome when his boat drifts to shore. Best Friends Forever maybe, but brothers in the blood-related sense is out the window.

@slayerkitty - Thanks for the heads up as usual, and I'm still rooting for Dome x Khatha. I don't care what this Triphop says.

#Midnight Museum #symbols and theories #tin foil hat time #Khatha x Dome #Brothers?! #Nah #Ain't no other way #They were in love

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay Visuals: Panic! In Four Minutes - parts 1 and 2

Oh boy oh boy we're getting into the really fun stuff now!

I used to be a fan of Panic! At The Disco (well I still like the music, I just don't like the lead singer anymore), and Voiceplay freaking killed it with this arrangement! But I'm not here to talk about acapella stuff, I'm here to talk about the video/s, which is just as super awesome! (I don't know why it was split into 2 parts, but I guess it works)

We're given a very quick trio of shots to start us off, giving us a bit of immediate story and context

Also, sort of an audio-visual thing, but the way that the music element starts with some of the guys "yelling" after Earl gets duct tape ripped off his mouth is very funny to me

The guys being positioned in a circle, facing outwards like so, is an interesting creative choice, but a little bit frustrating right now because it means I can't get any full group shots of them!

Cool outfit Layne!

Just wanted to grab screencaps of everyone's outfits for later reference

(Also the kidnappers didn't even bother stealing Geoff's smartwatch then? 😂)

Man Geoff looks so goddamn pretty in this video. I don't know what he or someone else did to his hair for this one but it seems to have just a bit more of a curl/waviness to it and I love it (also the half-open button up shirt with the popped collar really adds to the look as well 👀)

Also one of the better videos for noticing Geoff's eye colour is hazel (sort of green-brown), not just dark brown like how his eyes usually appear

I'm guessing the key thing was inspired by the music video for Say Amen (Saturday Night)?

Right, onto part 2! Part 1 was uploaded on the 14th of July, 2018, and part 2 was uploaded a week later, on the 21st (damn, way to keep your fans hanging, Voiceplay!)

Earl: hang on where are you going? And how did you even get free?

Obligatory acknowledgement of Layne's little heavy-breathing moment, which is either angry, panicky, or a mix of both, and has definitely found its way into a couple of fanfics.

Geoff (and his very bouncy hair) to the rescue! Sort of. (The way Geoff throws the key and completely misses, and Earl's mouthing of "what the-?" always makes me laugh 😂)

The drama! The suspense! The way Layne and Eli are bracing as if preparing for worst-case-scenario!

And as all Voiceplay fans know, VP made a prequel video to this, in the form of a Billie Eilish Medley! That won't be the next post after this one, but I'm gonna go type it up now while this video is still fresh in my mind, and I'll just stick it in drafts for the time being.

#voiceplay #acapella #panic at the disco #panic! at the disco #panic! in four minutes #p!atd #geoff castellucci #eli jacobson #layne stein #j none #earl elkins jr #earl elkins #acaplaya analysis #voiceplay visuals

[strawwritesfic]

Tony Stark x Female!Reader: Masks

Summary: For the sake of your future, you have to hope that Tony and the suit being one doesn’t become literal.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (mild sexual content; marriage proposal; Malibu; JARVIS & reader)

Challenge: "120 Bits of Random" challenge by SugarLandBabyGirl on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Masks

For the place you were supposed to meet Tony before date night, his house seemed awfully vacant. You had to open the door yourself with your spare key, and when you stepped inside, the lights in the hallway flicked on as you walked toward the living room. No one came to greet you, not even JARVIS. 

With a frown tugging your lips down, you tumbled into one of the armchairs and looked around. You had to admit, you felt quite silly, sitting with your legs draped over an arm, wearing your semi-formal getup, with no one to talk to. Minute after minute passed, and still no one appeared.

After nearly ten minutes, you couldn’t take it much longer. Tony had been the one to call you up out of the blue and ask you out for a nice dinner. If he hadn’t, you would have been content to spend your evening doing your own thing in your own apartment. 

You twisted into a more proper sitting position and practically glared at the ceiling. “Hey, JARVIS.”

Your glower wouldn’t do much to affect an AI, but at least it made you feel as though you had some element of control over the situation. Maybe JARVIS would notice your frustration and decide to speak up. With your eyes shut, you counted down from ten. It took only until the count of five to get a response.

“Yes, Miss [L Name]?”

“Where’s Tony?”

The pregnant pause that followed clearly indicated that JARVIS wasn’t hunting for Tony. He knew where he was; he just didn’t know how to answer you. A roll of your eyes, and then JARVIS replied:

“He’s…having a private moment.”

You couldn’t help the snort that rose from your throat as you stood. “Before we go out? I guess if it means he'll behave himself.” 

JARVIS didn’t reply, and you took that to mean he had no orders to detain you.

With JARVIS fading back into silence behind you, you stepped onto the stairs to the basement laboratory. You did, after all, have a pretty good idea of where Tony was having his “private moment,” and you intended to interrupt. It was not so much that you wanted to berate him, however; more that you just wanted to see if dinner was still on. If not, you would prefer to go home and change into something more comfortable.

As you meandered down the stairs, a voice drifted up toward you; apparently Tony had forgotten to close the garage door. You paused to peek inside the room, just to make sure that that wouldn’t answer your question and allow you to slip away unnoticed. The scene before you did not answer anything. It instead raised several questions more.

One of Tony’s suits was sitting in a chair in front of a table clearly dragged down from the patio. Its face, for want of a better term, was tilted politely toward Tony, who was walking away, shaking his hands in the air.

“No, no, no. That won’t do either.” Tony paused with his hand cupping his chin. While you debated walking back up the stairs, he snapped and turned back. “I’ve got it. Okay, let’s take it from the top.”

The suit, of course, said nothing as Tony drew nearer. Frowning, you watched as Tony sunk onto one knee and gazed up at its mask. Another drawn out stint of quiet followed. Tony almost looked frozen, until he coughed.

“[Name], I know this is really sudden and all. We haven’t been dating for very long–well, I mean, for me it’s long. For you…probably not so much. But even with that in mind, I can’t imagine spending any part of my life without you now. Or, I can, but I like the idea of us being together a lot more. What I’m trying to say is, will you marry me?”

Your heart stopped so suddenly that it nearly plummeted to your feet. Startled as you were, you could only gape as Tony got to his feet and scowled down at the armor. 

“Well, you don’t have to look like that about it.” He ran his fingers frantically though his hair. “A simple no would have sufficed.”

You couldn’t keep down a quick burst of laughter. Tony spun on the spot to see you standing in the doorway, grinning at him. 

“What are you doing?” you asked when he didn’t speak.

“I–” Tony began, looking almost embarrassed, if Tony was capable of being embarrassed. “The suit and I are one!”

You grinned as, slowly, Tony’s expression shifted into one of suspicion.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“The answer is yes, Tony,” you said with a shake of your head. 

He beamed. “Then I’m glad I practiced.”

#fan fic #straw writes #reader insert #second person pov #challenge fic #one shot #tony stark #iron man #avengers #marvel #mcu #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n

[open-hearth-rpg]

Glossary Index: Great RPG Mechanics #RPGMechanics: Week Nine

I love over-produced rpg books, I love chunky rpg books, I love beautiful rpg books. But more than anything else I love books that actually work at the table. Books with sensical organization, clear call outs for information, important rules repeated, and with key references gathered together. There are games that I love, but in spite of their presentation. I’m not going to name names– but there’s one big indie title I ran for two and half years straight and every single session I couldn’t find key info. 

A few years ago I applied for a job involving checking indexes (I didn’t get the position, last in a long series of those rejections). But one of the best parts of preparing for those interviews was discovering Nancy C. Mulvany’s great Indexing Books. It’s a dynamite read for anyone with any interest in how books are indexed. It’s a practical and illuminating volume. (For a deeper history of the index, see also Dennis Duncan’s Index, a History of The).  

RPG Indexes are vital to me when I’m trying to use a book at the table. I die a little inside every time I flip to the back of a game I’m running and find them missing. People who make rpgs, playbooks, character sheets, etc need to think about how these things actually get used. 

Which brings me to the wonders of the glossary index. I first encountered this in 13th Age, my favorite d20 emulating fantasy rpg. I adore 13th Age– especially for the smartness of how it is put together. The glossary index there contains a lot of elements– ones smartly chosen. For example what an attack bonus is and how to calculate it, what it means for a spell to be a battle spell, how the different range bands are read, etc. But my favorite bit– and the one which I often go to is the definitions of the different conditions. There are nine of them (few than a lot of other games (see Mutants & Masterminds)) but I can never exactly remember what they can do. 

The 13th Age Glossary Index points you to where you can find the info and gives you a quick answer if you’re just looking for a basic point. It’s also extraordinary well-written, tight and yet echoing the great authorial voice of the rest of the book. It had to have been a ton of work, but it is amazing. I don’t need this for every book, but for core books, it’s a definite value add. I hope the new Trail of Cthulhu 2e from Pelgrane also uses this approach. 

The other recent rulebook which does this is the amazing Apocalypse Keys from Rae Nedjadi and Evil Hat. It uses color and a small sideline to help call out the glossary entries. It’s great and a welcome addition to a game with a large set of moving parts. It’s also a great way to get a refresher when you go back to read through the game when you go to play it again after a break. 

I remember the extensive front of the book glossary and terminology guides which filled White Wolf core books from the 1990s on. Leaden and filled with nonsensical terms and ideas– a road bump to actually getting to the rules and the text. You’d be forgiven for just ducking out when you saw like five pages of terms, maybe split into sub-categories. Does these have to come at the front? Maybe we could have placed them as an appendix? Is it that intimidation an attempt at legitimacy? 

In any case a glossary index, like those in 13th Age and Apocalypse Keys, is a crafted and smart tool. It comes from people playing and thinking about what people would need to look up at the table. It’s great and I know several modern rpgs which I wish would have had one. Star Trek Adventures, I’m looking at you….

#ttrpg #rpg #rpg mechanics

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 Divine Rivals Book Review 🦇

Find my review below.

❝ I think we all wear armor. I think those who don’t are fools, risking the pain of being wounded by the sharp edges of the world, over and over again. But if I’ve learned anything from those fools, it’s that to be vulnerable is a strength most of us fear. It takes courage to let down your armor, to welcome people to see you as you are. ❞

❓ #QOTD Have you ever had a pen pal OR what book do you want to read before the end of the year? ❓

❝ Perhaps it begins with one person. Someone you trust. You remove a piece of armor for them; you let the light stream in, even if it makes you wince. Perhaps that is how you learn to be soft yet strong, even in fear and uncertainty. One person, one piece of steel. ❞ 🦇 For centuries the gods have slept, only to drag mortals into their feud upon waking. After her brother leaves to fight, 18-year-old Iris Winnow strives to support herself and her mother. She'll need to win the columnist position at the Oath Gazette to do so. Only one problem: her rival, Roman Kitt, who seems to have everything handed to him. In her brother's absence, Iris drafts letters to him on her nan's old typewriter. After slipping them under her wardrobe door, they vanish―unknowingly, into the hands of Kitt. As they write back and forth to one another, they forge a connection stronger than any war. Can the kindled hope between them survive this world?

💜 The mingled scents of black tea and smeared ink, the clatter of an old typewriter, and the vulnerable longing left by loss. Add a dash of magic, wailing sirens, the echoes of bombs exploding...it all seems like a recipe for disaster, not an enemies-to-lovers romantasy novel, and yet, these key ingredients set Divine Rivals apart as one of the must-read novels of the year. Rebecca Ross has crafted a clever, enthralling love story that perfectly balances whimsy, fear, longing, and mystery with this deeply emotional, spellcasting first installment. The shared heartache for those they miss and lost unites Iris and Roman in ways they don't even realize from the start. The magic of their typewriters and the vague mythology behind the war mix well with the historical setting. It's the almost-lyrical, poetic prose of their love letters that is perhaps most striking. With each letter, they both shed a bit of the armor they hide behind, revealing scars and vulnerabilities underneath. What starts as an enemies-to-lovers romance full of sass, wit, and charm becomes so much more. By the last few chapters, this story will take grasp of your heart, seep into your bones, and trigger intense feelings of longing until the second novel is in your hands.

💜 Iris is a heroine you can stand behind and root for from the first page, but it's Roman who holds the cards in the first half of the novel. Watching him fall first (initially through the love letters), while struggling with guilt, grief, and his familial debt was a beautifully painful experience. I've experienced part of Iris' journey, falling for someone through pen and page; Ross captures that enamorment perfectly. For the most part, the story is more historical fiction than fantasy. The magic seeps into the roots of the story, adding bewitching elements without stealing from the star of the show: the growing feelings between Iris and Roman. They find love in the dark, a spark of happiness in moments of fear and despair. Iris experiences so much loss, only to gain a found family (also, sapphic ship alert!). I rarely, rarely say this, but this is the type of story I'd love to see on screen.

🦇 Since this is a slow-burn romance, the pacing does drag at times, especially in the first half. While Ross' choice to sprinkle hints of the mythology and magic throughout the story leaves readers to focus on the character development and romance, it does keep us entirely in the dark. Though the rivalry between the gods started centuries ago, it seems strange that there's little known about its origins. Even the snippets Roman finds (which paint Darce and Enva like Hades and Persephone) feel incomplete. The world-building holds us at arm's length from the fantasy side of the novel until the very end, causing the final chapter to feel nearly out of place. It seems the mythology was restricted only for the shock value of that final chapter.

🦇 Recommended to fans of VE Schwab, Sarah J Maas, Jennifer L Armentrout, Lore, and Fourth Wing.

✨ The Vibes ✨ 🖋️ Rivals to Lovers/Dual POV 💌 Found Family 🖋️ Love Letters/Witty Banter 💌 Historical Fiction/Fantasy/Romantasy 🖋️ War Setting 💌 Magic, Myths, and Gods 🖋️ He Falls First 💌 Slow Burn

#book review #book blog #book lovers #booklr #fantasy romance #fantasy fiction #romantic fantasy #fantasy books #fantasy #romantasy books #romantasy #book: divine rivals #author: rebecca ross #batty about books #battyaboutbooks #books #new books #book

[smallerthanzer0]

(M:I Dead Reckoning spoilers) I am being so normal about this movie and definitely have not scrawled out several pages worth of meta. So normal.

Okay, one thing - absolutely fascinated by all the narrative rhyming/repetion in Dead Reckoning. I think there’s a lot that maps directly to the first movie, among others:

The presence of Kittridge, as well as the general “hey both middle management and upper management in the intelligence community fucking suck but at least they’re not working together on it”

Bringing back the specific role/family of Max and Alanna/White Widow, along with heavy implication that Ethan’s slept with both of them to strengthen his bargaining position

Really specific editing style focusing on close ups and Dutch tilts - not sure if the constant passing off of dialogue between characters is an editing reference as well?

Someone Ethan Hunt cares about has a death scene on a bridge

we’re on a train now, choo choo motherfuckers

Ethan showing off his close-up magic skills

And then there’s all the parallels within M:I7 itself (maybe so that people who haven’t watched the previous movies will still get the same effect? which is. wild):

Ethan and Kittridge using each other’s dialogue, mainly “this is me listening” and “do exactly as I say”

Benji keeping information from Ethan to keep him focused, both with the presence of the airport bomb and the cliff leading up to the train 

Ilsa and Paris getting stabbed in the same spot by the same person (with the same weapon?)

Planting the keys on an unsuspecting courier (Grace’s fellow airplane passenger and Zola)

Ethan’s retroactively fridged woman Marie and Grace’s name on her (presumably real) passport starting with Mar-

Interested to see if this is going to fall into rule of threes, with all of these repeated elements coming back again in part 2, or if it’s meant to signal that elements which weren’t repeated are prime candidates for showing up again. If it’s the latter, fingers crossed for a couple things:

Listen, I have more or less graduated from why would they fridge Ilsa i hate this she deserved better to at least if she died she died with honor - but STILL. If Phelps wasn’t dead and Paris isn’t dead then there’s still a chance for her and I want her back 😭

Creating false targets to essentially make someone attack themselves probably works on an AI as well as it does on a Russian submarine crew

So much of Ethan and Grace’s dialogue could come back in amazingly painful ways

If the next movie is Ethan’s last entry in M:I, the way the car chase keeps forcing Grace back into the driver’s seat and Ethan out of it is peak foreshadowing

Some payoff for the nuclear bomb in the airport, which seems like an oddly extraneous scene if we’re looking at this movie on its own

(Entirely possible that I have missed either a bunch of stuff or the entire point of this movie. In which case, feel free to correct me <3)

#mission impossible #mission impossible dead reckoning spoilers #neg shouts into the void

[mihai-florescu]

can you possibly do a deep dive on tsumugi and rei's relationship ship because there's a few of things going awn there and I'm a lil confused like what does rei want with tsumugi

I sure can try! I have rewatched a bit of the anime, reread Element and a few other stories and skimmed through Crossroad and i think i can answer this now. As always, other opinions are appreciated cuz i'm sure i missed stuff. For the first part i added screenshots i thought were relevant. It got a bit long so I'm adding a cut.

I started thinking about the timeline, and the earliest interaction we have of Rei and Tsumugi, as far as I know, is in Element. In the beginning, we learn they knew each other and Tsumugi was intimidated by Rei. In that story, Rei shows up twice to help out Tsumugi through advice.

But the way I interpret Rei giving Tsumugi that advice is because he sees a part of himself in Tsumugi and doesnt want people to take advantage of him. The part that cares for other people and is ready to help (which ends up being Rei's downfall in the war. His fatal flaw is his loving and caring nature. It becomes expected of him and becomes his shackles).

Rei wants to see Tsumugi become more than a tool for other characters. We know Rei was destined to be a main character as everyone points it out, but I don't think the same can be said for Tsumugi. From maybe a meta pov, Rei sees Tsumugi is on the path of losing his position in the narrative as a character and disappearing, becoming more of a tool that will be discarded after the war.

All of this I'm quite confident in believing, but the next part I kept debating whether I'm reaching or not, but I'll write my thoughts anyway.

I go back to Crossroad, first story in the Yumenosaki war timeline. Pre-Eichi even being out of the hospital. Rei becomes already aware of the plans for a revolution and knows he will be involved. Keito starts the plan for the revolution's course with Rei, Wataru and Kanata in mind, which is then expanded by Eichi to include 2 additional characters, reasoning to make it harder for the 5 to reach common grounds and unify. Eichi asks for Tsumugi's recommendation, and includes Shu and Natsume. Shu comes to mind first and makes sense, is one of the top idols of Yumenosaki, but Tsumugi only finds Natsume through a coincidence.

Tsumugi encounters Natsume in a secret part of the library, one not even the teachers have a key to anymore. But Rei has a copy of the key and is able to lend it to Tsumugi and thus facilitate this meeting.

Rei knowns the best course of action is for the oddballs to lose the war. Why does he choose Natsume? Is it because he can predict it's the push Natsume needs? Is his interest to make Natsume want to work hard towards his idol activities and become a character in this story as well? To give him a goal to strive for? (Reabilitating the oddballs' reputation)

He knows Natsume would need a friend after the war. Tsumugi, who is eager to help and has a hardworking nature, as well as a desire to make up for the pain he's caused towards his old childhood friend, would support and balance Natsume. Rei is aware of Tsumugi's status in the war and that Eichi will discard of him after the contract and doesn't want to see Tsumugi lose his place as a character in this story once that happens. Also worth noting Natsume is shielded by the rest of the oddballs so he doesn't have much of a presence in the actual course of the war, ecen at the end his plans get turned down. I think Rei had a long term plan to help out both Tsumugi and Natsume.

And it all works out. In current day events, Tsumugi and Rei are more or less on equal footing in the story and actually work really well together. There's a mutual respect and no grudge regarding the war as far as I know.

This is getting pretty long and I hope it's useful at least, so I'll end with a few random thoughts about their dynamic overall:

Tsumugi is a younger brother with an absent older brother figure, while Rei is an older brother whose younger brother avoids and alegedly despises him. In some stories it gets brought up that Ritsu and Tsumugi are surprisingly close, much to Rei's distress. "Devils" comes to mind first, where Tsumugi tries to help Rei and Ritsu to reconnect, or at least talk to each other. Going back to the fact that both Rei and Tsumugi tend to jump to help people, even maybe when it wasn't asked of them. Maybe especially then. Which is why they work well together in the occasions they have a common goal. I think this dynamic is quite fun to look at, but I'll stop here for today.

#hey hey i hope this makes sense? #lmk what yall think #enstars #tsumugi aoba #rei sakuma #long post #ensemble stars #ask #anon

[onlinemarketingjuice]

Leveraging Heatmaps for Strategic Website Optimization

The strategic use of “heatmaps” has become integral to website optimization, propelling your digital strategy toward ultimate success. As part of a multifaceted toolkit alongside Google Analytics, A/B testing, and conversion funnel analysis, heatmaps provide insightful data on user interaction patterns, guiding you in creating a user-centric website design and experience.

Heatmaps serve as a visualization mechanism, translating complex data into easily understandable representations. They help discern where visitors’ attention gravitates when landing on your site and determine the probability of clicks on various webpage areas. Such insights become pivotal when deciding the strategic positioning of crucial links and the elements requiring linking on your site.

A specific category of a heatmap, known as the “mouse movement” heatmap, mirrors the path traced by a visitor’s mouse across your webpage. This type of heatmap holds special significance for internet marketers, offering a data-backed approach to pinpointing optimal placement for promotional information and advertisements. It should be noted, however, that quality often comes at a price in the realm of heatmap tools. Free offerings often fail to deliver the detailed insights you need, making premium, paid tools a wise investment.

I personally recommend Crazy Egg or Contentsquare for comprehensive heatmap reports. Despite being a paid tools, both offer a well-balanced blend of affordability and quality, making them a reliable choice for businesses and individual users.

Utilizing heatmaps isn’t merely a passing trend; it’s essential to strategic decision-making in content creation and website design. A heatmap is a diagnostic tool unveiling a wealth of insights into how visitors navigate your web pages. These insights can significantly enhance your website’s engagement, steering the user journey down the conversion funnel more efficiently. Example below.

A deeper dive into the heatmap territory introduces another valuable tool called ‘scroll mapping’. Scroll maps are an extension of heatmaps that offer insightful details about how far down users are scrolling on your web pages. This is crucial to understand, as it highlights the ‘fold’ – the point at which users must start scrolling to see more. Data from scroll maps can reveal whether crucial content or calls to action are being missed because they’re placed too far down the page. In fact, the ‘hottest’ areas of a scroll map often signify the most engaging or attention-grabbing parts of your page. Incorporating scroll map data into your design strategy can enhance your content positioning and overall website usability, ultimately improving engagement and conversion rates. Tools like Crazy Egg or Contentsquare offer robust scroll mapping features, further enriching your understanding of user behavior and website interaction.

Understanding your visitors’ behavior is key to successful website optimization. Heatmaps are the compass guiding you toward informed, user-centric design decisions. So, don’t underestimate the power of a well-analyzed heatmap; it could be the linchpin in your website’s success story.

#heatmap #website #seo #tools #design

[secondpest]

Doctor who is so over its crazy: a brief rant.

I just watched the 4th Christmas special, and I really, really tried to like it. It's terrible for so many reasons.

Episodes 2 and 3 were actually kinda good. I liked that these old characters came back and were written like they used to be. I like that we finally got characters with consistent personalities who can have complex feelings and ideas and conflicts.

I really liked in the first Christmas special when they revealed the alien ship and it was obviously made to look like earlier seasons of Dr Who when the VFX department was made of 6 people working with no budget to smash together some overly composited, high contrast, stainless steel object that looked oddly appealing. One positive about the show, in my opinion, is they have exceptional compositing. The colors just look right, and aliens feel like they are there and they are real.

However, episode 4 is the first episode where they stopped conforming to old episodes and the show's old style, and its where my praise ends.

I think we missed a key fact: the fact that in the Chibnall era, Dr Who's budget expanded dramatically. No longer were they on a shoe-string budget. And I think at that moment, Dr Who became corporate.

All the characters seem so nice now. Nobody, not the Doctor or Ruby, have any bite to them. Not to mention, the music has gotten leagues less interesting or enjoyable. The magic of the music is gone, instead filled with generic music or 2 minutes of overly auto-tuned goblin pop. The sound effects, overly cheesy, yet lacking personality, layered in places that make no sense. The shot composition has gotten weird too, with an over-reliance of wide lenses, and a lack of over the shoulder shots. The framing of the camera makes the show feel almost impersonal, in stark contrast to Russel T. Davies' writing style. And for his writing style, I don't know about the reality of this, but he clearly misses the support of additional writers and editors.

Russel T. Davies is excellent at writing characters and dialogue, but him, or whoever else is on the current writing team, desperately lack the ability to tell Good sci-fi. Good sci-fi builds worlds, explains technology, establishes patterns and connections. And in contrast, we have wooden ships of creatures who live in the sky and eat children, because magic? We have an entity from outside the universe who can control reality... because magic. This might be fine in some contexts, but for me personally, the world-building of the show was one of my favorite parts. And while old Dr Who was guilty of this type of writing too, it rarely was this bad. Davies also seems to struggle with the concept of "Chekhov's gun." In other words: you have to establish plot elements BEFORE those elements come into play, or else your story starts to feel like it just decides to go in that direction. When the scientific advisor uses her wheelchair to shoot rockets and blow open a wall for Donna Noble's family, that is unearned because there is no setup for that. In a scenario where we had known that this was possible earlier, even if it seemed cheesy or outlandish, it would still have been satisfying to the viewer, who could have guessed this. Being able to predict the story before it happens is an indicator of a coherent story. A good story is both unique and predictable.

This might just be me, but I also feel like this episode in particular reeks of "corporate quirkiness." Not just being unique or wacky, or not even being cringe, but rather the false pretenses of being quirky, while not being quirky at all. The doctor desperately wants you to know he's weird, but instead of saying things in french or talking about astrophysics, he says "LMAO" out loud. This might just me not growing up with this version of The Doctor, but he emanates unearned "I'm not like other girls" energy.

Talking of vibes: The new doctor seems a lot more sexual than old doctors. To me, and to a lot of other people, the doctor is an asexual icon. He often recoils at advances, and even if occasionally he can develop romances with people, he often keeps distance. In contrast, this Doctor is flirty, he is sexual. And characters like this are fine, and it's also fine to have sexual queer characters in media. it just feels kinda sad to me, because in a way this is so oppositional to what this character has been defined as, that I can just no longer define the new Doctor as the same character.

And so, all in all: I don't think Dr Who is back. The things which made the older seasons of the show good are now gone, and I don't think there's anything that could really fix this. Even if there was, the direction the show is going in is just not the show I'm here to watch. Maybe I'm wrong, and actually the next season is amazing, but I don't think I'll tune in for quite a while to find out for myself.

#doctor who #dr who

[teacherintransition]

From The Isle of Lindisfarne to Columbia, Missouri

The key to finding what’s missing in your journey

Trust …your …instincts

I’m finally feeling a bit settled here in Columbia, Mo. There’s been some unusual adjustments on round five: Brent & Kim travel America. The eleven hour drive as a middle aged man and his three middle aged dogs was exhausting, “We ain’t as young as we used to be,” …who of us is anymore? Driving lag took a toll, but we moved forward. I got a late start today, but here I am. It’s 78° with comfortable gusts blowing making a wonderful day for early August. With things calming a bit, I’ve had time to re-examine the internal questions that Alistair Moffat’s book, To The Island of Tides, awakened in me after reading.

Our travels are essentially life resets every three months. Stressful? Yes, but in the most positive way I could imagine. It forces us to physically evaluate what we have, what we need, or did we leave anything out. If you just happen to be engaged in an intrinsic look inward, you’re in the perfect state of mind to determine needs, wants, what’s missing. Every time we land in a new spot, the basic human reaction is to establish a status quo to alleviate any “new home” anxiety. Basic needs are met quickly, but I then look for the things that give a sense of calm and comfort and familiarity. Coffee shop, walking trails, sites to see, a pub, places to read etc. etc. all come to the fore. The key thing about all of these locales is that they are all part of solitary pursuits that allow for quiet reflection and introspection. It’s cool; I haven’t come across any unknown psychoses… I know all of those. Three months at a time invites a time is running out imperative to address the deeper questions about what is missing inward. A very different mindset from Moffat’s in his book, but similar in that an awareness that time is quietly passing. A slight difference is that I’m not sixty eight like Mr. Moffat and the ticking clock is somewhat muted.

Since each move is a new wake up call, the questions come quickly once the first three to four steps of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs are met. The questions are basic, but touch on higher levels the more I think on them. Am I alone? Well, yeah at the beginning, but meeting people is part of the adventure. The deeper meaning resonates beyond just simple conversation; the “missing” element is true companionship …a true sense of belonging. This excludes my relationship with Kim as we are without question each other’s best friend; but I often feel without that relationship, I’m alone and feel lonely. Hollow chit chat and feeling lonely, in my opinion are unbearable. There has been much discussion about a dwindling circle of friends as we get older; and I’m fortunate to have the Great Triumvirate and my cigar lounge pals, even though I go for months without seeing them. I know they’re there, but absence of their presence and conversation is unpleasant. The truth is laid open: frequent, quality friendship are as necessary as breathing for this teacher. Aging brings the reality that people will come and go in our lives …and it can disconcerting when you see so many go and pass from your day to day life. This is something that is missing and its possible prolonged absence concerns me. It is what it is I suppose.

In the next few days and weeks, I hopefully expect to examine other essential elements that pervade my thinking. It’s a quest as certainly as Moffat’s quest in his book was and the saintly monks he examined. Inside and or outside of my being, I’ll seek out what’s vital to my peace of mind and now passively suffer their absence. Let’s get exploring.

#open mind #retirement #coffetime #stress #change #teacher #i need friends #health #writing #education

[rubybirdgrad603]

Week Three - Poster Research

https://www.behance.net/gallery/66516645/Poster-Collection-1?tracking_source=search_projects%7Ctypographic+poster

Travis Kane - Behance

This poster uses bold, slab style type in a high contrast black. The black and white colours work really nicely with the orange photographic treatment of the hand. The high contrast between the black and white allow the text to stand out and draw the eye despite the coloured image. There is also contrast between the text sizes. The large vertical type has much smaller horizontal type worked into the white spaces, which breaks up the bold type nicely. The refined colour palette is very effective as it heroes the image and the text. 

https://www.behance.net/gallery/163715761/Featured-Posters-2022?tracking_source=search_projects%7Ctypographic+poster

Brad Mead - Behance

These posters use a lot of negative space and interesting layout of type to draw the eye to the type in a certain order. The top poster uses this negative space to allow the photograph to stand out and attract the eye. It also guides the viewer to the smaller body type. The colour palette of the bottom poster is very simple, but definitely catches the attention of the viewer. The red colour adds a sense of urgency and encourages the type to be read. The staggered layout of the main text allows the type to breathe and makes it easier for the audience to follow and read.

https://www.pentagram.com/work/yale-school-of-architecture/story

Michael Beirut - Yale School of Architecture Open House

These are some of a series of posters advertising the Yale School of Architecture’s Open House. The only colours used are black and white, which positions the work in a very high contrast visual style. As well as the high contrast colours, there is contrast between the small and narrow body text and the bold main imagery or typography. The bottom poster very cleverly illustrates the idea of an open house by depicting the letter O, a pen, and a house. This visual language is very clever. The eye is drawn to these three objects because of the high contrast colours and the white space around them. The small narrow type here works well as it creates more variation in size that creates hierarchy, drawing the eye to the main pictorial elements. The middle poster uses glyphs interestingly. The range of sizes and styles of manicule creates a nice pattern effect. The layout which is much heavier to the right works very effectively to draw the eye to the body type of the poster. 

https://www.behance.net/gallery/162811255/Posters-collection-2022?tracking_source=search_projects%7Cposter

Bartosz Mamak - Behance

What I really like about these posters is the contrast and juxtaposition between the organic line drawings and hand written type and the clean sans serif body and subheading text. This creates a nice hierarchy in line white, making the heading and illustrations stand out while keeping the informative text very clean and legible. The colour palettes are very refined and minimal, working with one colour and black. It works very well to create a cohesive poster that heroes the key information.

https://www.behance.net/gallery/134714903/VREL-Eine-Spurensuche?tracking_source=search_projects%7Cposter

Lena-Marie Gribl - Behance

This poster was designed as advertising for a painting exhibition. The designer cleverly incorporated small elements of the painting in the torn away areas, which creates interest in the exhibition as it encourages the audience to see the whole painting - the parts of the image they are missing out on. The contrast between the very clean and bold type and simple layout and the less controlled torn shapes draws the eye to the image and encourages the poster to be looked at in closer detail. The colour palette is very simple, using black and bright yellow to draw the eye. This is a very successful poster.

[carica-ficus]

Review: Tomorrow, And Tomorrow, And Tomorrow

Author: Gabrielle Zevin

Date: 04/02/2023

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐

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A few months ago I started seeing this book everywhere. People shared so many positive opinions about it, saying it was award worthy, and calling it the best book of 2023. Of course I had to get my hands on it, especially when I saw they even translated it to Croatian. But alas, I am persuaded once again that just because a book is popular, doesn't also mean it's good.

I bought it before I learned what it was about, but I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the main characters were young game designers working in the early 90's and 00's. I have grown up playing video games and like to indulge in them nowadays as well, so I was excited to read the story this book had to offer. Unfortunately, the plot turned out to be quite disappointing.

The prelude is probably the strongest part of the book, introducing the main characters, Sadie and Sam, in an almost fated encounter. It's a very cliché, but endearing moment which promises a much wider, complicated story. Their meeting encourages them to catch up again and to start working together on something that has brought them together at the very beginning - video games. Together with Sam's roommate Marx, they initiate the birth of their future career as game designers.

While the rest of the story had potential to be great, it just failed to deliver anything but basic, superficial characters stuck in a life of mundane, repetitive cycles. While the characters improve their lives and grow in popularity, the lack of communication between Sadie and Sam condemns their relationship, and some of their work, to unavoidable failure. They obviously love one another, although not necessarily romantically, and instead of using the opportunity to highlight the importance of platonic relationships, Zevin constantly makes the characters circle around each other in jealous misunderstandings, annoying and unnecessary arguments, and ridiculous disagreements.

Most of the problems in their relationship could be tied down to Sadie and her inability to just stand up for herself. She revels in her misery, holding her tongue when faced with anything that discomforts her and passively agreeing to anything others propose to appear congenial. Her avoidance of conformation makes her bitter and estranged. She blames everyone else for the problems she causes herself. Many times she blames Sam for talking all the credit for their work which Zevin uses to illustrate the hardship of women in the video game industry. While the oppression the author tries to portray is definitely important to point out, Zevin makes it seem as if Sadie has literally no power over her circumstances. In fact, Sadie has had many occasions to speak her mind, but just refuses to do so.

Many times the book nears to an interesting and deep thought, but the author always provides an explanation to it. Personally, I like books that invoke critical thinking, but Zevin constantly takes away every opportunity to do so which makes "Tomorrow, And Tomorrow, And Tomorrow" incredibly shallow.

The whole books somehow feels very boring. The idea behind it was compelling, but it just doesn't deliver to its potential. Most of its failure is based upon the insincere relationship between Sadie and Sam which should've proven the prevalence of love against any torment, but it just turned out to be a forced amicability for the sake of their business.

Still, "Tomorrow, And Tomorrow, And Tomorrow" deserves it's popularity. It portrays a very basic story of two ordinary people who strive to achieve great things. It is meant to be somewhat of a boring life story because that is how life usually is. In its own way it is actually a good book, but it missed some key elements to make it truly enjoyable to me. I expected a lot more from it.

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