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lightwing-s · 4 months

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𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader

It must’ve been early when the knocking woke you up. Rolling in the warmth of the bed, you struggled to get up and once you did, you walked towards the door on pure muscle memory, still too tired to proceed with any coherent thoughts.

You opened it automatically, rubbing your heavy eyes and letting out a yawn.

“Ghost, Price and I were thinking that maybe…” you heard a voice you faintly remembered blurt out words you vaguely put together. “Yn? What are you doing in Simon's room?”

Freezing at the spot, your eyes dart open, as wide as they could possibly be, and a burst of energy runs through your body, making your mind jolt alight, finally deciding to work.

“Fuck.” you whisper, as you could hear the sound of objects falling and stumbling steps rushing to your side. Simon, still shirtless, holding up his loose sweatpants and whose mask had been clumsy put on, only one of his eyes properly fitting through it’s proper hole, arrived beside you breathlessly, pulling Gaz into the room and closing the door immediately thereafter.

Pushing the Sergeant onto the unmade bed, it took him a moment to catch his breath, spinning around on the same spot on the floor. He had fixed his mask, and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

We’re fucked.

Your eyes were restless, moving from Simon and Gaz so quickly it was making you dizzy. Your hands tugged at Simon’s shirt, dressing you like a dress, but barely covering your legs, ones you were not used to exposing in front of your comrades.

It was awkward, this whole situation an awkward mess you had put you all in.

I’m sorry, you mouthed and pleaded with your eyes as Simon stopped in front of you, his hands reaching for your arm, rubbing it warm, consoling you as much as he could as you two sulked in unwanted company.

“Can you two explain what’s going on?” asked your “guest”. Exchanging glances once more, you two fought over who would break him the news. “Or am I supposed to make my own conclusions?”

“‘S pretty obvious, innit?” Simon replied, dryly.

“I wanted to hear it from you, it looks too surreal.” he said, leaning back and straightening his position, a smirk spreading on his face, amusement evident in his eyes. “The Lt and Yn shagging.”

You looked back at Simon once more, his arms crossed on his chest making his biceps look twice their size, and his clear crunched jawline, probably planning three hundred different ways to murder his teammate. Touching his shoulder, you asked for allowance, watching as he considered the options before nodding in return.

“Gaz.” you called, catching his attention. “We’re married.”

Gaz’s head bobbed forward as his eyes almost jumped out of its socket, questioning the shocking news and his own reality. To confirm your words, showed him your hands, more specifically your ring finger, where a pair of letters, ‘SR’, were tattooed secretly on its side. The Lieutenant followed suit, uncrossing his arms to expose your initials drawn on the same spot in his ring finger.

You two were married. Married, and no one in the base knew it. Hell, they didn’t even know you two had a thing for each other, was going through Gaz’s mind.

“Married?” he repeated, more an affirmation than a question, trying to process it in his head. “I can’t wait till Johnny knows it.”

“Johnny can’t know it.” you immediately cut him. “Please, Gaz. I-it’s…” private, you wanted to add, our lives. But a lump in your throat caught you, feeling everything you’d build crumbling down.

You’d been so careful. You and Simon had taken every possible precaution since the first night you hooked up, not wanting anyone to find out your silly “mistake”, to the day of your wedding two years ago, the most important day in your entire life. And now the secret was done for, days counted even if Gaz were kind enough to keep it to himself.

“Private.” Gaz completed your words after a brief minute of silence, and the hope in your chest grew. “I get it. You know I’m not a snitch.” Standing up, he continued. “Your secret is safe with me.” and extending his hand towards your husband he wished. “Congratulations, Simon.”

Your husband, after second thoughts, shook Gaz’s hand in his, evident force used to make sure a warning was heard: you say anything, you’re dead. However, knowing him like no one else, you notice signs no one would, and the slight drop in his shoulder lets you know he trusted his Sergeant.

“Congratulations you too, Yn.” he turned to you, giving you a tight hug instead, lifting you off your feet for a brief moment before returning you to the floor. “Does this make me the best man over Johnny?”

Fishing for a pillow, Simon threw it straight into Gaz’s head as he rushed out of your room, giggles heading out with him. You too stood laughing, enjoying knowing your secret paradise wasn’t done for yet, and trying to calm down your sulking and annoyed husband.

a/n: short drabble to announce i'm now taking simon and other cod men requests ♡

#simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley blurb #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley blurb #ghost x reader #ghost riley blurb #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod imagine #ghost riley imagine #cod imagine

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communistkenobi · 5 months

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if you don't feel like taking the time to explain this to a random person I totally understand lol I will continue to look elsewhere to form an opinion. but I'm torn on not voting for biden, because I do understand the motive. he's terrible, teaching the democratic party a hard lesson is overdue. they need to be taught once and for all that they need to actually fucking deliver on their lofty virtuous promises or they will lose all support. on the other hand if you're following closely the shit trump's people are spewing right now he just keeps getting worse and worse and overtly fascist and ambitious, it's incredibly frightening atp, it's obvious that he will only make everything that's bad now in the usa and in palestine and everywhere else 10000x worse for a long time to come, I just don't know if the damage from another trump presidency is a worthy price to pay to stick it to joe

I’m going to be blunt, but I genuinely do not mean this in a rude or condescending way, I invite you to think about this deeply: do you legitimately think that if the democrats get re-elected they’re going to stop any of the horrific shit the republicans want to implement, either domestically or overseas? Has their track record given you any hope that that will happen? If you vote for them as they gleefully, openly carry out a genocide, literally what incentive do they have to stop Republicans at all? If their voter base is that secure, that loyal, what incentive do they have to protect their constituents or address their needs when in power? Protecting Roe v Wade was what made voting for Biden an existential necessity in 2020 and that still got trashed! People are still in cages at the US-Mexico border! Cop city is being built in Atlanta! Police brutality against Black people continues unabated! Pipelines are still being built on indigenous land (DAPL happened under Obama)! The threat against minority populations, the truly disadvantaged and oppressed people inside the US, are already living with this violence on a daily basis and have lived with it regardless of who is in office. To assume the threat of fascist violence has not yet arrived, has not yet been developing for decades, is to ignore these things.

I do not think the democrats need to be ‘taught a lesson’ or that you need to ‘stick it to Joe.’ The Democrats are not failing to deliver on their promises - these are their promises. Even on a purely self-interested level, ignoring the genocide currently happening, you are not going to be protected from fascists domestically by voting blue no matter who. Certainly there are local elections and movements were there is genuine progressive potential (Ohio just voted to legalise weed and support abortion, a legit good thing that was absolutely worth going out and voting for), but that is not the reality of the national party. The primary language available to voters as voters is to stop voting for them.

The fascist right in the US (both ‘populist’ groups like qanon and the proud boys, as well as institutional groups like the federalist society, the heritage foundation, etc, the list is endless, not to mention evangelical churches) is organised and developed enough that they will continue to hold power and influence regardless of who is in office. The genocide happening in Palestine right now, carried out by a democrat, is not a neatly contained far-away thing that can be separated from domestic politics (I am not claiming you’re making that argument, only trying to articulate my own point) - it is already having a profound and measurable impact on the US population in the form of increased racist, islamophobic and antisemitic violence, mass police brutality, institutional silencing and firing of anyone who even says the word genocide, etc. I think it’s productive to view those actions as developing fascist actions, actions which are being stoked by a democrat. And if they are not outright fascist, they are certainly a precursor to it. In the last couple years there have been a lot of stupid, incompetent demonstrations by the far right in the US - Unite the Right rally, the storming of the capitol, Qanon-motivated assaults and murders like the attempted plot to kidnap the Michigan governor, that one mob guy who was murdered by a Qanon follower in New York I think, Alex Jones being a national figurehead for the conspiratorial and openly fascist right (although he’s probably not going to continue to be that now that he lost a billion dollars in his court cases lol), the “stop the steal” legal attempt to contest the results of the 2020 election - these are ridiculous and on-the-surface ineffective attempts to express a fascistic will onto USAmerican institutions (“inchoate fascism,” a fascism not yet fully formed, a fascism in an experimental phase). But I think the genocide in Palestine is allowing for the effective version of those things to be done in the US. The hysteria, the rage, the violence that this genocide is producing “at home” is not going to dissipate if a democrat continues to hold office, and the Palestinian genocide is both an organising force for the current fascist right and an inciting force for it to further develop and grow. This larger debate about voting or not voting seems to be operating on the (correct) assumption that foreign policy is not a meaningful realm of difference between democrats and republicans, that the only space to battle over is domestic affairs. But absent from this debate is that these two things can’t be neatly partitioned, they are not separate, not just because you should view all human life as equally worth preserving but because we are seeing the mass domestic response within the US about Palestine - the popular resistance to it on the one hand and the institutional support for it on the other. The early 2000s US culture (“post-9/11”) is widely regarded as incredibly right-wing, and that was because of the war in Iraq! Foreign policy produces and shapes US culture, and the genocide in Palestine a colonial and fascist project.

This is not an argument for despair, or to do nothing. Fascism is not defeated by voting regardless of who you’re voting for, and so we can dispense with that idea. If you want to exercise your civic responsibilities, there are many other avenues - labour unions, community work, protests, boycott organising, and yes even voting in local elections when there is a strategic advantage to do so - things that are meaningful and do legitimately help people. But I do not see any strategic calculus in voting for democrats. Biden already told everyone this - “nothing will fundamentally change.” There should be no surprise, no expectation that they will do anything except what they’re already doing, which is business as usual

#asks #turning off reblogs bc I don’t feel like getting screamed at lol #anyway hope this was helpful. I’m also Canadian so my perspective is a bit more removed #although I feel largely the same about my own country. I’m not voting for genocide Justin!

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perplexingluciddreams · 24 days

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Mixed feelings about the "price" of doing Things with autism. And how much sensory overload headaches Suck™️:

Recently I have tried to be brave and do things that connect me to "the real world" more. For example: bedroom door open sometimes, play cards with Mum, listen TV shows or music on out-loud speaker instead of headphones.

The past two days I am extra brave - I even listen music out-loud while in swing! (Today was Beethoven 6th Symphony "Pastoral"). This is a big thing for me.

I am proud of myself, of course. But, man, the sensory overload headaches afterwards are not fun!! Ouch ☹️😡.

For so long I tried to do everything I could to prevent even a teeny tiny bit of overwhelm, because I didn't have enough energy to stim enough to recover from it. It was my only option.

However, I am and always will be constantly dysregulated, which Sucks™️. Anything and everything can make my brain and sensory system go even more doolally than usual. It's just the way it is.

It is good to try and expose myself carefully and gradually to tiny bits of more intense sensory input, I think. At least, I hope it will have a positive long term help.

But, still, I am really fully understanding better now why I used to have such frequent and intense meltdowns every day. My meltdowns really majorly reduced in frequency when I stopped leaving the house, and even more when I (mostly) stopped leaving my bedroom. (Although they did unfortunately get more violent as I get older 🤷🏻‍♂️).

I hate that the price for doing anything I want to do, or anything nice or fun or with other people, is violent meltdowns and aggression behaviours and overwhelm and sensory overload, and *insert any other shitty thing that autism causes*.

And I am so limited by my autism. A lot of times I don't care about this, because I know the Thing would be a horrible experience in reality. But I still yearn to do these things that other people can do - I wish to be able to experience it as a "normal" person would.

It just really kinda sucks. Sometimes I feel left out and left behind. ☹️

It is weird to have such mixed feelings... I am glad and proud that I manage the tiny bit of new/different. But also upset that it comes at such a huge huge price. And that I could never cope with anything more than this tiny amount.

#words from my head #autism #autistic #sensory overload #sensory processing disorder

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ohgaylor · 1 year

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IT MUST BE EXHAUSTING (AN ANALYSIS)

Hi. Taylor’s the problem. And she knows it. (affectionate)

All right friends. It’s time to dive into an analysis again. I’ve been reflecting on a lot of Midnights and Taylor’s ever-present self-deprecation this era and in my regular fashion, I had to make an extremely long-winded analysis post about a certain motif of hers that I’ve noticed has only grown more apparent this time around. and essentially that is her self-awareness toward her ever-ambiguous signaling in regard to her identity, and where she is positioned in the complicated and delicate journey of coming out, as well as the plethora of emotions that surround that for both herself and her fans and those of us who pick up on the queer coded subtext of her music and art.

to kick off this analysis, may I remind you of this beauty of a quote from Taylor’s 2018 reputation tour pride speech that prefaced Delicate?

I want to send my love and respect to everybody who in their journey and in their life hasn't yet felt comfortable enough to come out ... and may you do that on your own time and may we end up with a world where everyone can live and love equally and no one has to be afraid to say how they feel. When it comes to feelings and when it comes to love and searching for someone to spend your whole life with, it’s all just really really delicate.

That is quite possibly my favorite thing she’s ever said. and what inspired this tag.

Now I need to clarify up front — I am never insinuating a need or even desire for Taylor to come out. Because that’s not our place to say. If you’ve been around my blog long enough, I would hope that nuance would be apparent. I simply point out regular motifs and patterns within her art and how it correlates with queer-coded themes of closets, of almost coming out, of outright queer coding, of rainbows, of keeping a love secret and safe, and on and on and on. The signs are there if you know what to look for (re: “I gave so many signs”) and that’s what I explore on my blog. The point is, I will never demand she come out. But I will stand with her in this complex journey she appears to be on. It’s entirely her journey and however she wishes to navigate that is hers to decide.

but that doesn’t detract from the reality that for those of us who see this beautiful queer subtext of her art and music and visuals and work and self, the ambiguity and constant back-and-forth when it comes to her identity (and the idea of coming out) can in fact be a lot to try and process and understand and ultimately to reconcile as we root for her. Trying to understand where she stands is much like chasing a moving target. (not that she owes any explanation to us, because again, she doesn’t.) her art and creativity are her place of expression and catharsis. however, watching her navigate these complexities and trying to root for her in this sometimes messy space is also, dare I say, exhausting.

hence, the title and general theme of this analysis.

so let’s begin.

First, we have this verse in Anti-Hero which is the perfect setup to illustrate this specific motif,

I should not be left to my own devices They come with prices and vices I end up in crises Tale as old as time

This is essentially the thesis of Taylor’s message, the feeling that her own judgement and actions might be the very cause for certain crises she finds herself in, however enticing those vices and choices may be. In choosing to straddle a glass-closeted lifestyle as an artist at her status and level of fame, all the while heavily queer-coding to her (receptive) audiences, only to be seen by most others as the hallmark of straight women as per her highly publicized bearding, juggling this all can be overwhelming. But it’s also a space that she has essentially curated and perpetuated herself.

An anti-hero is a central character in a narrative who conspicuously lacks heroic, moral qualities:

Although antiheroes may sometimes perform actions that are morally correct, it is not always for the right reasons, often acting primarily out of self-interest or in ways that defy conventional ethical codes.

Identifying herself as the anti-hero in this sense comes as a candid confession, as though she is admitting that maybe she is driven by self-interest. (which again, she is entitled to as we all are in our own lives.) (re: the jokes weren’t funny, I took the money, my friends at home don’t know what to say) Alternatively, and perhaps additionally, acting out of self-interest in this context may mean concealment of parts of her identity for the sake of self-preservation. The nuances behind why she hasn’t chosen to come out are at play here and I doubt any of us can fully comprehend what that is exactly.

I never had the courage of my convictions, as long as danger is near

Pouring out my heart to a stranger but I didn’t pour the whiskey

Combat, I'm ready for combat. I say I don't want that, but what if I do? 'Cause cruelty wins in the movies. I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you … Dark side, I search for your dark side. But what if I'm alright, right, right, right here?

You can easily grasp the intense oscillation as she goes back and forth between these decisions while juggling a myriad of reasons and factors, all of which are incredibly weighted. She knows it’s exhausting for us because it’s that much more exhausting for herself.

So, she elects to pursue a route all too familiar to closeted individuals in the public eye, one of bearding and concealing their identity.

I had some tricks up my sleeve … Perched in the dark, telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear, like it could be love, I could be the way forward, only if they pay for it … the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up

I took the money. My friends from home don't know what to say.

The cost at which this lifestyle comes is worthy of an analysis all on its own. But Taylor seems to be indicating that she has found safety and security in her self-made cages and closets of sorts.

I prefer hiding in plain sight

‘Cause shade never made anybody less gay

If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

My town was a wasteland, full of cages, full of fences*, pageant queens and big pretenders. But for some, it was paradise.

In the darkest little paradise

(also, note the *fences. I’ll come back to that later.)

She brings focus to the fact that her town was full of cages and fences, which initially may carry a negative connotation. But here’s where she turns it around and says that for some, it was place of paradise, that the self-made cages brought security and freedom. That the idea of “forever” is in fact the sweetest con. That the good life she was hustling for through the tricks she had up her sleeve is within grasp. That this could be the way forward. Tell me that doesn’t scream a queer-coded experience?

But knowing Taylor and the complicated nature of this deeply personal topic, there is also a level of remorse regarding the said-cages and choices that had put her in crisis.

I cut off my nose just to spite my face, then hate my reflection for years and years

I’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you

I’d pay if you’d just know me

Now, despite the way she has managed to remain glass-closeted, a large subset of her fans and the general public completely miss what she is signaling in regard to her queerness. (re: “I gave so many signs / you didn’t even see the signs”) but it appears she is feeling some remorse for the devices she’s used and the way she’s navigated things because she knows that she’ll be the one paying for it.

So again, Taylor fully acknowledges she’s the problem. She endlessly dances around the topic, sometimes to an extreme (re: “bent the truth too far tonight,” Bettygate and specifying a male perspective despite widespread interpretation of the alternative; similar thing with Lavendergate, etc etc) She writes from “male perspectives” so as to have a way to write female pronouns. She uses pseudonyms for similar motives. She equates herself with gay pride and places herself adjacent to the community repeatedly, and dances in Gaylor Park and rainbow kaleidoscopes. She dresses in rainbow attire and gives speeches emphasizing the delicacy of coming out and on and on, all while also remaining straight-passing. It’s complicated and messy and indeed exhausting.

sending signals to be double-crossed

I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

no doubt these devices and choices have come at a cost. first, the personal cost of remaining closeted (or in the very least, glass closeted) by her own making. The nature by which she has driven her career, of “taking the money” and pursuing a career (and by extension, following heteronormative cultural standards of remaining closeted), all point to the self-made cages she twists in.

recall the Delicate pride speech…

I want to send my love and respect to everybody who in their journey and in their life hasn't yet felt comfortable enough to come out ... and may you do that on your own time

That is a major theme for her. The idea that through a closeted state, certain freedoms can coexist.

We know Taylor has made a point to emphasize the comfort she has found in keeping elements of her life to herself post her apocalyptic summer. And the way she has largely receded her personal life from the public eye is telling. In an effort to protect the “real stuff”, she is withholding from others and has found safety in that.

Privacy sign on the door and on my page and on the whole world, romance is not dead if you keep it just yours.

She knows it’s not always a world that some would choose to be a part of. She describes it as a wasteland, likely desolate, harkening back to cowboy like me. A place where hustling for the good life, perching in the dark as con artists (or pageant queens and big pretenders) and telling all the rich folks anything they want to hear like “it could be love” is all too familiar.

It’s a painful dichotomy she fully explores in The Archer, recognizing that maybe it’s her lot in life to straddle these lines of staying where she is, perched in the dark, while wanting to step into the daylight and let it go.

and that’s where the second cost comes in — in how those of us who see her for what she is signaling herself to be, are ultimately left to ourselves to make sense of it.

It’s the same kind of essence of this fantastic analysis regarding coney island and her apology of not making us certain subsets of her fans and communities her centerfold.

Being left to her own devices, she has ultimately crafted a duplicitous persona, of which she has spoken about specifically when discussing mirrorball…

Everybody else feels like they have to be on for certain people. You have to be different versions of yourself for different people. Different versions at work, different versions around friends, different versions of yourself around different friends. Different version of yourself around family. Everybody has to be duplicitous, or feels that they have to in some ways, be duplicitous. And that’s part of the human experience, but it’s also exhausting. You kind of learn that every one of us has the ability to become a shape-shifter. But what does that do to us?

Is it self-preservation? Or self-made self-destruction? (re: “they told me all of my cages were mental” “what a shame she’s fucked in the head” “lost in the labyrinth of my mind”)

Among the various anxieties that plague her in regard to this subject, Taylor makes one fear very clear. And that is for some inevitable day where we will leave her after we’ve had enough of “her scheming”.

'Cause they see right through me, they see right through me, they see right through. Can you see right through me?

I wake up screaming from dreaming One day I'll watch as you're leaving 'Cause you got tired of my scheming For the last time

These desperate prayers of a cursed man spilling out to you for free, but darling, darling, please, you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking if you knew where I was walking

Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

She will get as close as she can to the topic, (“Gay pride… everything that makes me me!” to name just one) only to pull back or leave it ambiguous and devoid of clarity…

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face Then I hate my reflection for years and years

…only to feel guilt for skirting around the topic…

You said I was freeloading … I bent the truth too far tonight, I was dancing around, dancing around it … Your picket fence is sharp as knives, I was dancing around, dancing around it

This to me is the a significant price that comes from her being left to her own devices. Yes, there is freedom that comes from closeting/bearding. But glass closeting brings a more painful mess of emotions for both the closet-er and those seeing it for what it is. This is what she addresses in Anti-Hero with painful clarity.

And sometimes this can come at a painful cost. Take YNTCD for example. In this video, she positions herself within the queer community, dancing in Gaylor Park, and boldly declares herself an advocate for LGBTQIA rights.

But as we know, the video was met by many as out-of-touch (re: “freeloading”), performative and whatever else critics were spewing.

motion capture put me in a bad light. I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where I went wrong. writing letters addressed to the fire

Now for a detour.

I want to talk about the purple / blue / lavender glitter for a minute. Here, in the Directors on Directors interview, Taylor describes the glitter as being a metaphor for herself...

It’s supposed to be a metaphor for like, I bleed glitter, I’m not normal, there’s something wrong with me, I’m not a person, I don’t belong, I don’t fit in anywhere.

Recall how I said chasing a moving target?

Let’s talk about the significance of this scene and a handful of others in terms of the lavender glitter.

[For some queer context regarding glitter]

I’d first like to point out Hayley Kiyoko’s purple glitter jacket above, from the YNTCD video. This is Hayley Kiyoko we’re talking about. The proclaimed Lesbian Jesus. And in this moment, while she is wearing the purple glitter jacket, she is aiming an arrow at a target, signifying The Archer. This moment is key.

And then you have the Miss Americana documentary, wherein Taylor explicitly equates herself with gay pride, while talking about the Me! music video.

It’s a line of dialogue that screams at me with such intensity. Irrefutable. As a film editor, I know that every line in a film is deliberately placed and thought out and meticulously addressed. And therefore we can trust that Taylor intended for this line to make it into the film. I can tell that surrounding dialogue is seemingly trimmed and crafted in a delicate way. And part of that is the very direct statement that “Gay pride…everything that makes me, me!”

And it’s within this music video that we again witness a massive “ME!” literally jumping out at us on screen, in none other than purple glitter.

A handful of others could sense that the conclusion of Miss Americana felt as thought it was headed in a different direction than the one it ultimately took. And that for whatever reason, Taylor’s political advocacy took center stage while a deeper analysis regarding her LGBTQIA advocacy did not.

Cut back to the Anti-Hero music video where we get The Archer aiming right for Taylor, and striking her, causing her to bleed, yet again, purple glitter.

Pierced through the heart but never killed… did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism, like some kind of congressman

My covert (secret) narcissism (ME!) I disguise as altruism like some kind of congressman (the political turn and advocacy present in Miss Americana)

In other words, covering up who she is (“gay pride… everything that makes me me!”) under the guise of a film almost exclusively focused on her journey of discovering her political (“Vote for me for everything” pin) activist voice. And what scene depicts this with near precision???

this one.

motion capture put me in a bad light. I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where I went wrong. writing letters addressed to the fire

'cause cruelty wins in the movies, I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

The subsequent look on her face of absentminded agony says it all. She knows the confusion that comes from rooting for her as (especially if she is seen as an ally who maybe crosses one too many lines if presumably as straight.)

The inner-turmoil on display for us in The Archer has transformed into a tone all too exhausted in its own right within Anti-Hero. She knows we’re tired. She’s tired too. In a self-deprecating jab, she admits that she is the problem and she knows that everybody ultimately agrees with her on this. Shielded within a pop anthem, her vulnerability is on display. And so, in Dear Reader, with equal parts desperation as well as wit, she concludes…

You should find another guiding light, guiding light. But I shine so bright.

And so it is ultimately within this utterly messy, exhausting, complicated, ever-changing and nuanced journey that Taylor reaches out to those of us who do in fact see through her and who ultimately simply see her, that she asks us in all sincerity…

Who could stay? Who could stay? Who could stay? You could stay.

And I, for one, will stay.

[enjoy my other analyses here]

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oops-prow-did-it-again · 8 months

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Why You Should Rethink DoorDash, and Other Courier Apps: From a Driver Based in the USA

So this is part rant and part psa. I have been doing delivery work as a gig driver for DoorDash for years bc of various personal circumstances. I'm hoping to get a CDL in the near future so I can move on to a better job, but that's besides the point for right now. Further disclaimer: I only know the intricacies of DD. I do not know how precisely GrubHub, Uber Eats, etc, work, but I presume they work much the same, since I see the same complaints come from those services too.

This is in no particular order but please, if you have the time, please read it through. I'll preface this by saying I am not going to be rude or bitchy about customers or merchants here, this isn't just me whining, I'm just trying to give a level recount of my experiences with DD, and often, they are just... Not great experiences, unfortunately.

I don't know how many people realize this, but drivers get offered a base pay of $2.00-$2.50 per delivery, depending on the area. This is all DoorDash HAS to pay a driver. Every time you submit an order via DD, it gets spit out onto drivers' apps with that base pay + tip displayed. Meaning if you do not tip, every driver sees only $2-$2.50 to deliver your order. Sometimes, if enough drivers decline an order enough times, the DD algorithm will start to slowly raise the base offered pay... by about $0.25-$1 per round depending on the mileage it takes to deliver that order. This means if you do not tip, your order will most likely be extremely delayed, or bundled with another order, which will make it late, and your food cold.

**Emphasizing this: although I find low tips frustrating, I am NOT personally faulting anyone for not tipping.** DD should just pay their drivers, and it shouldn't be up to you, especially bc ordering delivery is so damn expensive. But I'm telling you this bc they certainly don't advertise it, and many people in my experience are shocked by now little it pays. Many drivers will not accept an offer that's less than $1-$1.50/mi. This means if your restaurant is 8mi away from you, and DD pays the minimum $2, you need to be tipping at least $6-$10 for most drivers to even consider it, or else it will be sitting for a long time or get bundled with a double delivery (more chances for mistakes + takes longer for the food to get to you).

Furthermore, in certain localities, DD offers an hourly rate for its drivers. This sounds good on paper, but keep in mind that this does not include gas money, and only accounts for the time from a delivery being accepted to the time it is dropped off. If you are delivering in suburbs or, god forbid, rural areas, you will spend a lot of time not making money but still burning gas returning from a home to where restaurants are so you can get your next delivery. While the app may say something impressive like $14-$17.25/hr, in reality, it's usually half that or less when you factor in downtime.

DD orders are also exorbitantly more expensive than if you buy directly from the merchant because DD charges the merchant 15-30% of the menu price to use their platform, and the merchants pass this on, usually plus a little extra, to you. This is before you even consider "delivery fees," which are not paid to drivers and are pretty much exclusively pocketed by DD. Also, DD will often choose a store farther away from you (so, say, a McDonald's that's 5mi away from you as opposed to the one that's 1mi away) specifically so they can charge more on fees. *Sometimes* this is just bc the closer store isn't enrolled in DD, but oftentimes, it isn't.

ADDENDUM ON THIS, HOWEVER: If you are ordering directly from a merchant that you know does not have actual in-house drivers, but is offering delivery anyway, like Wendy's or McDonald's, understand that these merchants are going to send these deliveries through to DD or Uber Eats. These orders have cryptic names for items on the Dasher's end and often we cannot contact you if there's an issue with your order, because the phone numbers provided to the Dasher's app never work. If you know for certain the merchant has its own delivery team (most pizza places, Chick-fil-A, Panera, etc), please order delivery directly through them, but if you know they do not (Wendy's, McDonald's), DO NOT ORDER delivery through their apps. It displays poorly on the drivers end and is often more expensive and a less ideal experience for you.

DD does offer DashPass, a subscription service that, for $9.99/mo, says it slashes delivery fees and other costs. Not really; the amount you pay in DashPass, especially the longer you have it, often exceeds the fees you would pay if you simply bought orders without DashPass. Also, it will advertise at you constantly via notifications and emails which will make you more likely to spend more on delivery that you wouldn't have in the first place, further eroding whatever savings you'd gain from DashPass.

DoorDash also can do a thing where they enroll stores in their platform without that store's permission. These orders require Dashers to use a red card, a notoriously buggy debit card that is supposed to get loaded with the amount of money it takes to cover the order by DD. The restaurants do not get any extra profits from these, and many store managers would love to prevent this from happening, but it requires legal action that is infeasible for most stores to do on their own. This causes friction and conflicts between store managers and drivers, delays for the customers, and solely profits DD.

DD ***does not*** reimburse for any amount of gas or car repair costs. Instead, they offer a company debit card which has tons of hidden fees for their drivers, and gives a small % cashback on gas. It is an overwhelmingly bad deal, but they use it as a shield against accusations that they don't support drivers against the cost of gas. They do...but only if you let them be your bank. Otherwise, you get your pay the Tuesday after the week you worked, or you can cash out immediately via the FastPay feature - for a $1.99 fee out of the money you earned.

DD support teams (and I know this is not unique by any measure to DD but it feels worth mentioning) are based in Taiwan, I believe, as well. I have absolutely nothing against the support teams, for they are doing the best with what they have, but DD absolutely weaponizes language barriers and the difficulty in communication to try to silence customers and dashers alike when there is a problem. DD seems to hope that if you get frustrated enough trying to talk to support (once again, not the workers' faults, the call center is absolutely being exploited too, I just don't have firsthand enough experience with that work to talk about the specifics of how), you will simply give up and not bother trying to seek a refund or half pay.

On that note, if a delivery has to be canceled for whatever reason, your driver will not get paid regardless of the time they spent on it. Very very rarely they will give "half pay," which is half of the promised payout, but only if you were on the delivery for an excessive length of time (i.e., 1+ hours).

Furthermore, if a delivery is marked as undelivered, DD will issue a contract violation against the driver. It is then up to the driver to submit proof that they completed the delivery, via pictures or video evidence, even though DD tracks our phones the entire time we are delivering and should be able to see if we were there or not. **New drivers are not properly warned about this,** so oftentimes when you have a "hand it to the customer" delivery, drivers don't think to take pictures or videos, and dashcams are expensive, not everyone has one. It is extremely hard to argue your way out of a contract violation if you do not have proof.

If you get 3 or more contract violations, you will be immediately suspended from the platform, and 2 puts you at risk of it. If you complete 100 deliveries without incident since the one that gave you the violation, it *will* just go away... But this is a subtle tactic used to scare drivers into taking more (usually very badly paying) orders, because they fear deactivation.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't try to get a refund, if you legitimately did not receive your order. But please, try contacting your driver directly before you contact support, and if you must contact support, really consider whether someone losing a job, even if it a side gig, is worth the amount of money you spent. You can often just lie and tell DD the order is completely wrong and they'll refund it without punishing the driver, as that's seen as a merchant error.

Also, I don't think many customers realize this: we CANNOT see delivery instructions before we accept a delivery, and they are difficult to see until after the delivery is picked up (as they are only available on a floating widget badge). If you ask for extra sauces or other things in the delivery instructions, 9 times out of 10 we will not see it until we are already on the road and headed to you. Please don't hate drivers for this; most of the drivers I've seen are more than happy to do whatever you want! But msg us via the app, DO NOT use the delivery instructions. Delivery instructions is for instructions on how to find your house or apartment if the numbers aren't very visible, or telling us to call you instead of come to your door when we arrive, that sort of thing. In fact, please be as descriptive as possible for the delivery instructions on this front- if you're ordering from a business, tell us the business name. If you're ordering from an apt, tell us the apartment complex name. If you're ordering from a house, tell us the color of your house or the cars in the driveway. It's all very helpful!

One last thing before I wrap this up: safety. Delivering is an extremely dangerous job. Pizza delivery, for example, is one of the most dangerous professions, and DD's safety features are even worse than those places. DD has implemented a feature for you to contact 911 via the Dasher app in emergencies, but often, this would still be too late. DD does NOT vet the areas for safety that they release the platform into, and there is no real recourse for violent customers aside from talking to support, which takes time and often won't communicate the issue effectively. Sometimes this works, and customers will rarely get banned from Doordash if they threaten, harass, or injure a driver. But the vast majority of these cases go unreported.

Loose dogs and carjacking are also major problems. Customers failing to notify other people in their households that they ordered delivery has led to me being threatened before. I've had people answer the door in their underwear. I had someone try to invite me into his house while wearing nothing but briefs. I had someone step out of their pickup truck carrying two rifles directly in front of me right before I delivered to their house once. I've had dogs nearly bite me - thankfully none have, I'm luckier than many others, but it's still a significant risk. A lot of people seem to trust their dogs when they really should not.

All of this, for $2.25 in base pay + a few dollars in tips.

I really do love delivering, and I do appreciate the freedom DD gives me in choosing my work schedule right now. However, the compensation is woefully bad, the company scams merchants, customers, and drivers alike, and the working conditions are very unsafe.

Idk how many people here really use DD, or what in particular can even be done about most of these issues, but I hope this enlightened some folks.

#doordash #dd #gig economy #gig work #gig #uber eats #grubhub #delivery #driving #psa #rant #vent

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lovely-v · 1 year

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Tolkien is so kind in how he writes about Frodo being damaged by his heroic journey. he paid such a high price for it. and it hurts me to see that experiencing the results of that does not heal his wounds. my health has been Bad since the pandemic started and I am not sure if I will ever recover and Frodo and Tolkien both seem to have made peace with that in ways that I can't comprehend for myself. I don't know why I'm writing you this, you're just one of the most pro-Frodo blogs I follow and I figured you might like an opportunity to talk about him :)

Oh thank you SO MUCH for the ask, I do indeed love an opportunity to talk about Frodo!!

(I was gonna start by citing an essay I like about him but I sadly can’t find it, so it looks like I’ll just be going off whatever comes to mind here.)

I for one, can’t understand when people don’t see him as a sympathetic character. His story is, when broken down to it’s essentials, an almost universally relatable one. In his childhood, he had a lot of hopes and dreams for his future despite facing tragedy at a young age, and his character development is more or less him realizing the harsh realities of his life and the fate that he’s condemned to. Who of us HASNT felt disillusioned by the world around us as we grow up?? Is anyone out there really going to say they’ve NEVER been in a horrific situation and had the thought “oh god I’m never going to get out of this but there’s no other choice but to KEEP FUCKING GOING”????

And I personally feel like I don’t know enough to expand on this in a really deep way, but his trauma and the wounds he receives are definitely Tolkien’s way of approaching chronic illness and depression. As someone who struggles a lot with mental health, I have almost never found a character who feels as real to me as Frodo, especially with the way he internalizes his pain and refuses to talk to anyone about it near the end.

And the lesson that Lord of the Rings as a whole teaches with regards to change and not ever really being able to go back to how things were, no matter how much you want to or how much you try, is still one that I’m trying to learn myself.

So yeah, Frodo is in fact THE protagonist of all time to me. The fact that he goes through everything he does and still remains a kind person who doesn’t wish harm on others is so so valuable.

That’s a lot of different and disconnected thoughts, but yeah, I love him.

#vee’s asks #frodo baggins #lord of the rings #for all the gay jokes I make about him (which for the record IS me projecting my own queerness) I do have a very serious affection for him #I wrote this at a dining hall before work I hope it’s coherent

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mehiwilldoitlater · 2 years

Text

Fumajime Teruha Voice-Lines

((Since i wanted to do something in order to make people know Teruha Better))

Hello: Welcome to Sakkaku Island, the city of entertainment and pleasure. I am Fumajime Teruha, mistress and owner of this land. If your arrival in my reign it's for fun, then you are welcome. If you are planning to join the Empyreans then... fufufu, you have a long way ahead.

Chat: Calming sea Um, the sea looks calm from the windows. The creator must feel nice today...

Chat: Little brother I heard some ruckus in the garden. I hope that my precious younger brother and AiXiang aren't arguing again.

When It Rains: Even under the strongest of the rains of the season, a real Geisha fulfills her duties. But, just for you, for today I'll make an exception. Let's wait a little.

When Thunder Strikes: It seems like the Raiden Shogun likes to show her presence even from miles away. Do not be afraid of her attempt; she'll never dare to strike here... not when she is still falling from the Creator's favor.

When The Wind Is Blowing: Can you hear it?...The Furin bells are tinkling. Isn't it a lovely sound? I can't even recreate this sensation with my Shamisen...

When It Snows: I don't like snow... it reminds me of a difficult time. Yet, my brother seems to adore this season, and he had planned to play with our Creator in the snow, so for now I'll let it slide. Why don’t you go with them, um?

When The Sun Is Out: I have quite a lot of work to do, but on a good day like this one, it's an invitation to stroll under the wisteria on the main road.

Good Morning: Isn't it a lovely day? Traveler, let me show you the light and shadow of my kingdom... Don't worry, since you come here often, you're no longer a danger under Tiang LaoHu's eyes...

Good Afternoon: Let's head back. Maybe it will be early, but we must prepare for tonight's exhibition. The cooks will make something for us.

Good Evening: It's almost time. The lights in the streets are igniting, minstrels are calling for their audience. Tonight, take a seat with us. I'll gift your presence with a good view of my performance.

Good Night: Go, my friend. You're still too young to savour the gifts that the island can give during the night. We'll see each other in the morning.

About Us: Intentions When you came here the first time, you didn't express interest in joining our ranks, not even try to convince our Grace to meet the other Archons. This.. intrigues me... Uh? Prove yourself worthy? Well, you are on the right track then.

About Us: Decision I'll speak with the creator. If you really wish to meet them, then I'll try to help you with this. Just know that a favor must always be returned one day.

About Kazuha. Kazuha? Oh! You must be talking about Kaedehara! I met him years ago, on a rainy night. He stumbled at the entrance of the pavilion, hoping to find shelter. My younger brother was mesmerized by his attire, so he begged me to let him rest in one of our empty rooms. Of course, everything comes at a price, so I traded a bed for a blade. Oh, don't look at me like that! I only asked him to train my dear brother in the art of the sword! Nothing more! I was gifted with a few of his poems. Aaah... that young samurai knew how to flatter the heart of a geisha, just like the one in the novels... too bad that novels do not become reality.

About Lea: The White Lady from Mondstadt... she's quite interesting, you know? Even in her blindness, nothing passes unseen in her presence. She gained her status here because of her skills, and I confess that I can trust her in many activities. I just wish she was strong enough to persuade those Knights to stop asking the audience to our Grace...

About The Vision: Trouble with understanding the visions? I'm not an expert, but I must say that some of them are quite ironic. I got mine the day... I got rid of the previous owner of this island. I sensed its power while I watched him take his last breath...Maybe there is a secret meaning, or maybe they just like to have a good dancer there on Celestia.

Interesting Things: Aaah, my Koi Pond, my joy and pride! ...Oh, you find it strange that a great artist such as me takes pleasure in taking care of these creatures? Well, yes, they may seem simple, but one of them may become a dragon one day.

Something To Share: I usually make up on my own, but on special occasions I let my younger brother do it for me. It may sound odd, but he's very talented! Our mother taught him when he was younger, and now he has been called by many of the ladies of this city!

More About Teruha I: I'm currently teaching our Grace to play the Qin! They have a lot to learn , but i am a restless teacher!

More About Teruha II: I suppose you met Sayuri and Tsubaki. They are my maikos, my younger sisters who have dedicated their lives to the arts. They are quite naive. They have yet to learn how dark and difficult the world is! I refuse to make them real geishas till I'm sure they'll be ready...

More About Teruha III: Dancing with the fans may seem easy, but it's just easier to say than done. The movement must be elegant yet firm. Delicate yet strong. The faster the music, the harder it becomes... Young Lady Kamisato improvised for you? Well, now she's gained my attention.

More About Teruha IV: A Danna? I had the idea of finding one a few times... but no, I don't think that I want one... not now. Still, I have a few candidates in my mind... umm..no, you're still too young for fufufu...

More About Teruha V: I still have to figure it out about you and your way, but I cannot help but notice that many of your actions are of pure kindness. I'm not very used to it, so please excuse me if I may look odd to you. But, i wish that our friendship can continue, your kindness...i like it.

Teruha's Hobbies: I know, I know, moking isn't something that a lady would do, but the Kisero doesn't give a far more elegant look?

Teruha's Troubles: Again, more ambassadors from the countries and the archons, demanding to speak with the creator. They can't even take a hint, can they?

Favorite Food: Kakigori! Yes, it sounds strange, doesn't it? I am surrounded by the greatest cooks, and the only thing that can bring me a smile is a simple dessert. I can't help it. It reminds me of the time when my mother brought me and my brother to the temple to pray for good luck. My special favourite is the one with the pkum syrup.

Least Favorite Food: I can't stand the yakitori made with the entrails. Ugh! Just the thought makes my stomach hurt! How is it possible to eat something that drips such a large amount of grease? If I catch my brother eating it behind my back, I'll bathe him myself!

Birthday: Since it's such an important day for you, let's have a private party! Just you, me, and a few friends! This will be my gift to you.

Feelings About Ascension: Intro Intelligence alone is not enough. Sometimes, we must become sharp as a blade to protect what we love.

Feelings About Ascension: Building Up As mistress of this island and second in command of the Empyreans, my responsibilities extend beyond simple nighttime performance. It's my duty to press forward and protect my people.

Feelings About Ascension: Climax This power... I wonder... am I fitting in to be the second right hand of the creator? Am I different to the ones that wanted their heads? I guess only I can find the truth.

Feelings About Ascension: Conclusion My dear friend, now I know what I must do. I must use all of this power in order to create a world where people like me, like our creator, can live. I don't care about the price that I had to pay... I just wish we could stay together till that time.

#genshin impact #genshin oc #sagau #self aware genshin #Fumajime Teruha

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andrewminyard-josten · 2 years

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91 for aaron/kevin?

I have taken forever to answer this, and for that, I am so sorry! I cannot fully remember the prompt, but here is a short Aaron/Kevin drabble that I hope you will enjoy. Kevin/Aaron

Most of his teammates believed Kevin only studied to avoid being expelled from university, which fair. But also, not true. Kevin genuinely enjoyed sitting in a small, dark corner of the campus library. Free from other people, students and reporters alike. With a flickering light above his head, casting the old, worn pages of Orestes in a bright orange glow. He highlighted several significant lines in yellow, and his favourite one in pink. In the back of his mind, a faint whisper echoed, the wisp of an Irish accent trailing off. His mother had read him this story once. It had been far too mature for him at the tender age of nine, but his mother believed him to be old enough to understand, so Kevin tried his best. Exy and history. That was all he had left to connect the two of them. Two fraying threads that Kevin desperately tried to keep stitched together.

“You’re in my spot,” a familiar voice snapped.

Kevin’s head jerked up, the name Andrew on his lips before he remembered that Andrew never entered the library. Furthermore, hadn’t Andrew and Neil already embarked on some God-forsaken drive to the middle of nowhere? Kevin shuddered. Who legitimately enjoyed being trapped in a tiny, metal death box for hours on end? Lunatics. That was who.

“Aaron,” Kevin grunted, dog-earing his page before shutting the book. “What do you want?”

Aaron gave him a pointed glare. His large, orange hoody engulfed his small frame, and even larger purple bags dragged down his hazel eyes. Kevin frowned, examining his backliner. Aaron needed to sleep more; that much was obvious. His performance on the field was beginning to slow down, and his passes were becoming sloppy. Even for him.

“This is my spot,” Aaron repeated.

“Did you pay for it?” Kevin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, because unlike you I don’t have millions of dollars stored away to afford over-priced college tuition,” Aaron said, taking his bookbag off his shoulder. “Now fuck off, some of us actually need to learn.”

“I’m learning too,” Kevin protested, waving his book.

“Learn in the dorms.”

“No, I’m staying here. You learn in the dorms.”

Aaron groaned. “Nicky is way too fucking loud.”

“Well, I’m not moving,” Kevin said.

“Ugh, fine. Just don’t start shit,” Aaron said, taking the seat across from him and emptying his bookbag onto the table.

“I don’t ‘start shit,’” Kevin said.

“Uhuh. Less talking, more studying,” Aaron said, flinging open two medical books about bones or whatever grim nonsense pre-med people learned. Aaron then dropped what looked to be ten brightly coloured pens onto the table. They clattered, one almost rolling off the edge before Kevin caught it and handed it back.

"Thanks," Aaron grunted, their fingers momentarily brushing.

Kevin mumbled something, his hand tingling, and quickly Orestes. He desperately tried to regain his earlier concentration, but his body remained stubbornly aware of just how close Aaron was to him. Not that Aaron being close was a new phenomenon. When they drove from Eden’s Twilight to the house in Columbia after a late night of drinking, Aaron was often shoved beside him in the backseat. So close that their warm thighs would be pressed together. And, if Aaron were particularly drunk that night on cheap tequila shots, his head would inevitably fall onto Kevin’s shoulder as he fell asleep. His hot breath puffing against Kevin’s neck.

But those nights were shadowed in a haze of intoxication, more like a dream than reality. This was different. Now Aaron’s company felt astonishingly real, and Kevin wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He could hear Aaron’s slow, steady breathing and the scribble of his pen on rapidly flipping paper as he desperately took notes. It wasn’t bad having this familiar body beside him. Having a companion in the darkness. Kevin finished the chapter and wrote the short synopsis his professor requested, taking note of the major themes and important events that had occurred. Through his lashes, he glanced at Aaron, his lips pursed in concentration. Technically, Kevin could leave now. He didn’t need to stay.

He flipped to the next chapter, anyway. And continued reading until the library bell started ringing. Fifteen more minutes until they had to get out. A swell of disappointment rose in Kevin’s chest as he thought about going back to his empty dorm rooms, Andrew and Neil gone, with a half bottle of whiskey awaiting him.

“Already?” Aaron asked, looking up blearily, blue ink somehow staining his sharper-than-a-knife left cheekbone.

“Pretty sure it’s been a few hours,” Kevin said, and stood up, stretching out his back, which popped satisfyingly. “Do you want to get dinner?”

It wasn’t a question Kevin had consciously thought about asking. He bit his lip, sharp enough to draw blood, but didn’t take the question back.

“What, just me and you?” Aaron asked dubiously.

Kevin flushed and shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? We both need to eat, and this way I can make sure you’re not gorging yourself on junk food.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Thanks, jerk,” he said, but he sounded more fond than mad. Or maybe that was just Kevin’s imagination.

They walked out of the library side-by-side, onto the semi-busy street. It was Friday night, and everyone on campus was looking to catch a buzz after a hard week of lectures, labs, and assignments. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to join them, even if the thought of not being productive twisted his intestines into knots. Their next practice session for Exy wasn’t until Sunday morning, Kevin reminded himself. He could afford to stay out late. Just for tonight it would be fine.

“Are you sure you want to hangout with me? I know the others consider me to be pretty rotten company,” Aaron said, as they turned off the main street. In the distance was a small, dimly lit Italian restaurant promising the best wine in Palmetto.

Kevin shrugged. “Not to me.”

Aaron smiled, and it was an expression so uniquely Aaron because Kevin could not imagine that curled upper lip, a few teeth poking through, on Andrew’s face. Aaron opened the door to the restaurant, a chime ringing above their heads as a smartly dressed hostess greeted them. Kevin’s heart thumped as they were led to their table.

#the foxhole court #Kevin x Aaron #Aaron Minyard #Kevin Day #tfc fic #aftg fic

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moon-ness · 2 years

Text

Swallowing down the feeling of dread, she swims toward two older men who are sitting talking at the side of the pool, their thin legs dangling in the water.

“So I told him, at that price, we will look for another supplier..” he trails off, noticing Amara leaning against the side next to him. “Not now.” He shoos her away. She freezes, not sure what to do. “Maybe this one doesn’t speak Latin,” says the other man. He turns to her, enunciating slowly, as if she is stupid. “You. Greek. Whore. Yes?” The man’s white hair is stuck to his head in sweaty tuffs making him look like a duckling. His pale eyes stare at her with lack of focus, as if he doesn’t expect to see anyone staring back.

Amara thinks of her father. The crooked way he would smile when he talked about the Roman state. Everything they have is borrowed from us. Always remember that. “I am from Aphadnai,” she replies, speaking fluent Latin. “Twelfth city of Attica, once the home of Helen of Troy.” She inclines her head graciously, one hand over her heart in greeting, her father’s smile on her face. “In this country, I am called Amara. I wish nothing other than to be of service to you both.”

Duckling head is not charmed. “Aphadnai didn’t keep hold of Helen for long, if your myths are true.” His companion laughs, “Dont be so bad tempered.” He looks at Amara with more interest. He is old, it’s true, but not entirely unattractive. She glances downward. There are gold rings on his fingers. Her heart flutters. Could this be the patron she has been hoping for? Can he see how much she has to offer? In her imagination, she leaps forward in time, sees him devotedly draping her in jewels, entranced by her every word… “You have a pretty mouth, Amara from Aphidnai. Don’t waste it talking to him.” He parts his legs in a not so subtle sign of what he wants. Of course, it’s not interest in his eyes. It’s nothing more than the drunk look of lust she has seen so many times before. Amara hesitates, the disappointment of reality taking a few seconds to dissipate her fantasy. Then she bends her head to oblige. For a moment, she thinks of Felix. Imagines what it must be like to have the power to act on your rage rather than bury it. Her customer - whose name she still doesn’t know - finishes with a whimper. He waits for his friend then helps him get to his feet. They walk off without offering any thanks. “Is it always like this?” Amara asks Maria. “Like what?” Maria snaps, wiping her face. There are red marks on her cheek where her customer must have dug his fingernails into her skin. “I thought maybe…” Amara trails off, silenced by Maria’s angry, uncomprehending stare. She isnt sure what she would say anyway. That she was hoping for a watery symposium, impressing men with her conversation like the courtesans of Greek high society? Her humiliation feels worse for being self-inflicted. Better to expect nothing than be made a fool.

There’s laughter as three more customers walk into the baths from the steam room. This time, Amara doesn’t wait. She leaves Maria, wading toward the men. It isn’t Victoria she imitates as she climbs the steps, water dripping off her. She remembers the way Felix moved at the Palaestra, the sharp lines of his body as he ran past his rivals, the violence and the rage. She stalks toward the men, interrupting their conversation without apology. “I am Amara of Aphidnai,” she says. “Twelfth city of Attica, home of Helen of Troy. Which of you imagines he may command my attention?” The three men look at each other, amused but not entirely sure how to respond. The illusion of power she has created is fragile, she knows any one of them could force her if they choose to. Rather than frighten her, the knowledge makes her even more aggressive. She holds out her hand to the most confident looking man, the one she hopes will have the least to prove by humiliating her. ….. Amara has learned more than enough about the mechanics of sex to understand what will give pleasure. She runs through her repertoire, the line between fear and anger stretched taut across her heart. The only time panic threatens to pull her under is at the end when he tries to rest her onto her back. She cedes control, telling herself it will be quicker that way. Afterward she doesn’t wait to see if his reaction will be gratitude or indifference. She turns her back and walks to the pool. Down the steps, the water rises past her waist then higher as she plunges all the way in, swimming to the window. Amara looks out to the sea. If she didn’t know the scene behind her, if she couldn’t hear it, she could imagine that the horizon stretching out ahead belonged to her. Instead, she knows that she is confined here, in the air and the light, as she is in the narrow darkness of her cell.

Back at the brothel:

Amara follows the man into her cell, drawing the curtain. He sits heavily on the bed. “I’m Publius,” he says. “Lovely to meet you Publius,” she says. “I’m Amara.”

She starts to undress, taking her time, not to titillate him but to give herself a small delay. This is where Victoria would be running through her patter to get him in the mood. But there is no need. Publius is looking at her naked body in wonder. “You’re lovely,” he says. Amara almost feels sorry for him, this man who cannot see her bitterness. She smiles. “Thank you.” She walks to the bed and kneels on the floor, unfastens his boots, easing them off his feet. “You’re tired,” she says, without thinking. “It was a long day at the bakery,” he replies. She carries on undressing him. At least he is not such a monster as the wealthy old men at the baths. The memory brings a flush to her cheeks. All that effort and she barely made a denarius in tips. If anything, the day has shown her rich men are meaner than poor ones. Amara climbs onto the bed beside Publius. She lets Publius kiss her, lying passive as a stone. It’s supposed to be her making the effort here, not him, but he doesn’t seem to care. The anger that is always beneath the surface of her skin flickers into life. Why should he care? He’s lucky to be able to touch her at all.

She hears Felix’s voice in her head. And you would, wouldn’t you? Tear them all apart.

#the Wolf den #elodie harper

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oliverfredericdieck · 27 days

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The individual dimension of activity against global warming, French version ( english )

My French friends: I studied economics/management DEUG/Ensette in Strasbourg, France between 1990 and 1992. There I composed, among other things, the basics of my first piano concerto, Strasbourg, in the quality of Tchaikovsky. Of course I know that France is 75% dependent on nuclear power and is the third strongest nuclear power in the world as a security measure and this corresponds to the peaceful use of nuclear energy. As for the latter, I hope for a common nuclear umbrella, the EU, to also protect my home country Europe. In this regard, I have some understanding that France sees nuclear energy as an ecological force in transition and neglects long-term perspectives.

First of all: I am Oliver Frederic Dieck O.F.D. This isn't about gay climate or crazy revenge on God. It's about the earth's revenge for making us humans the real cancer of the earth, and about how the earth can be healed through better behavior. In my opinion, it's enough if a she is melting down faceing me. In short: What can we do on an individual level: Some ideas :

Don't buy things that are actually greenwashed as a marketing argument. Refer to the true costs from start to finish, social costs and environmental costs included. No other calculation makes sense to make it better in reality.

We need to add a badge or plaque to every product that shows the real environmental cost, including the information, like we do with cigarettes and tobacco these days, with the information “It might kill you”.

We need to impose additional taxes that reflect the real costs, including the costs to ecological society worldwide, and add this to pricing. Maybe if we do it in this pedagogical way we need to cut taxes elsewhere

We need a peaceful world without madness like cold or hot wars in order to have the resources to correct our actions. Mutual deterrence is not the way forward. There is no real alternative to law and peaceful imprisonment. We don't need dictators and criminals in leadership worldwide. That's all. Then proceed carefully.

-Just-in-time production and outsourced production must change. Interdependencies, alternatives for risk reduction and engines that use, for example, hydrogen gas or other modern technologies. Then it is possible to continue with global production. Otherwise not.

-Don't believe too much in the words of politicians who prefer goodwill solutions rather than equal legal frameworks that force all market participants to be ecologically responsible. Otherwise nothing will happen that would deceive us for another decade until our certain end, as it has been for four decades including the relocation of production to then prosperous China, India and so on.

There are too many of us on this planet of 8 billion people. But in developed countries with women studying and free access to safe sex condoms, at least the behavior of the population has changed drastically. We Europeans are dying out. We must take personal measures for the next generations, also to keep the social and economic system and the intergenerational contracts stable. But it will work in the same way elsewhere if there is also a modernization of religion and enlightenment. I think that the development of the Earth is the main key to halting the explosive growth on Earth.

In Germany, my home state in Europe, one in seven workers depends on the automobile industry. In France it is different but similar. Therefore, it is necessary to advance new responsible technologies for our personal prosperity and the solution to our global climate problems.

Eat less meat, more eggs, fish and poultry and of course fruits and vegetables. Favor sources in your area.

Don't buy fast fashion clothes based on the latest trends. Most of the time, fashion just sells goods by artificially creating a new trend every year. Buy something good in your individual style with lasting quality and be satisfied with it.

Do not throw everything away and recycle it if necessary. Repair is the option. New is not an argument for quality!

Demonstrate, use your social network and vote.

-In short: Stop fighting for your individual freedom. Fight against the reasons that force us to gradually use our freedoms less and ultimately limit them to zero out of responsibility.

Kind regards, Oliver Frederic Dieck. O.F.D for short Oli.

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wh-da-backup · 5 months

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lyrics dump- grade 10 so far

Published: Apr 9, 2011

note: these are bits of lines and lyrics i jotted down from whenever my last lyric dump was until about late january (when i started a new songbook) they are in no particular order, chronological or otherwise.

------

the only thing surrounding me drink the water, it's a part of me immersed with my insanity my insulation from reality -----

we can still be salvaged from this life ----

you drink about music, you brew about leaves you jolt-jump-spark at your own ideas we're easy to talk to, and easy to please come live in my novel, i'm easy to read ----

you bound my arms in puppet strings and dressed me up and made me king and now i bleed imagining i could cut through the puppet strings ----

you'd be even more beautiful without that gun in your hand

you're my favorite waste of time ----

call me names and call me spit bury me in my dug pit oh pity me... pity me...

give me ears to lick and make me beautiful with dumb pinpricks oh pretty me... pretty me...

(and making me tear up my lips oh) ----

I write what I can't say and call it fiction I remember when I used to read sick to my empty/bleeding stomach cesspool genes caffiene dreams ----

the hourglass is filled with quicksand -----

it's cute that you think you'd be so easily replaced; quit calling me pretty, I'm more than a face ----

precious eyes in a beautiful face

stringent dark eyes in a fingernail face ----

I am not down to earth and/or water off in my head somewhere never get things done lazy own daughter

nuclear reactor guild sun fusion sun I'm (a) jaded Ray I'm (a) faded Ray ----

who is standing in the door... way... my heart is a table (my heart is a table) leg and you write on the table (write on the table) write me a new escape ----

eat your solids drink your liquids breathe your gases nothing matters ----

i got your postcard yesteryear the photo said wish you were here but sadly i am out of reach we'll meet again on pensive beach ----

so bombastic oh degrade me

why so shy in silent shell?

leave avec un violon ----

teacups are fragile this one's been pushed over the table's edge

you can hold the pieces together but they'll just fall apart when you remove your hands

and you did but you did the best you can -----

I'll shine in your smile like a firefly's ass

we'll breed the cutest maggots your mother ever saw ---

you feed my ego when i'm broken you're glue ---

I've been known for shooting mirrors no one wants to hold my fingers life is a price

you listen in and think i'm clever stitch the glass and see forever life is nice ----

I can't sleep in this ----

friend, i love you no more scars ----

leave me be I'm no forgever I will have these scars forever ---

this is not a riot, this is the norm. -----

he can read his own mind as you can't do we understand each others' too he wakes at night in violent screams at least he knows what it means to dream ----

all is fair now we're just friends

now we can't move cause we're still friends ----

brainblanks

been thinking about bullets hoping one will lodge

now my mind is blanking no wonder i haven't been shot ----

souls with whom i've shared a room in a house in some past life

it's always better late than never we all love each other now i'm figured out ----

afraid your arms aren't strong enough to crush the world before it crushes her she likes to dream in your ear unconditional listener she likes to hide from everything she wants to tell you all the sad things, things she almost

(things she always) ----

memory barricades everyone sees them your life is tacked up and you dream with your past around ----

to stroke the dreams of anyone dying and be happy for any two people in love ----

butterflies don't cause hurricanes it's the vibrations from knocking on unanswered doors

puzzles click and people feel don't thnk i've ever met such real- life eyes

the hourglass is filled with quicksand and my mouth with sandy lies -----

I like the time you said to me well don't you want it all? and what if overall it's not your fault ------

mentalliterate

out of my mind and out of your mind too we talk all night and lips are last to rest we're like the rats i guess little feet and little hearts the music starts there's nothing talk can do -----

so hot and scary let's compare ea- -ch other's lies

be my fracture let's commit a crime -----

we were down not so long ago broken minds and starving egos

people in a world of creatures, humans, talk, and TV zombies

faster than a speeding taxi best and worst and most indifferent

I know you make all the difference

you and I can say anything true and breathing's all we have to do we can stay and dream for hours nothing has to move -----

you put her in the world, tell her it's wrong to see her breath, she'll stop breathing

you build a perfect world take her and put her in that dress mirror bleeding

(tell her she's no good if she can't fit into that dress mirror-reading)

thin as the paper they're printed on ashamed of their own flesh beauty is fleeting

flesh it what it is, plastic flaws and now you must confess-

she's not breathing -----

he's so shallow she's so callow yet their love is hallowed fools will follow -----

this boy will someday be a man this man was once a child ----

we put us down and say we're ugly we are in denial we are beautiful

and all the empty pages we'll write and turn the stages and they will fill with roses human, we are beautiful -----

I see the shadow we cast on a smile in the sky

I hear you drum again and there are major repercussions

you call yourself my ventillation (rusty ankles pay attention) i don't want to need you to breathe

I'll sing you an alibi

fall asleep and you'll forget me never did remember all your dreams

is there something you're not telling me?

those 13 days are my favorite lucid dream -----

you have CDs now I kept the cassettes mix tapes we made recording the radio remember when we recorded the radio? we always laughed at high school sweethearts secretly wishing we knew each other that young

new year denied me millenium kiss -----

light from all around my friends are ghosts who saved my soul and carry on to heaven whole -----

you'll improvise me a serenade ------

and in the days of gold they smiled and weaved their voices to caress the child

sing until the baby breaks

simple as syrup she's as good as drowned

it leaves a candy wake

drink water

gravity corrects ----

I think we're floating out to see we'll build a flag to save our sanity our love is paranoid and in a drowned world there are some things that only swimmers know the sea recedes and she will not grow old -----

should it be something i admire should it be something i resent it seems i'm only smiling when i'm smiling on your latest compliment

when i dress like a bruise ----

on a bridge where rivers meet so cold but not quite freezing the swimmers you and i won't join it seems to me this is a dream

and in the end it's all beneath i'd kiss your teeth and drag my feet and in the end is this the end everything's fair now we're just friends ----

no one's gonna take your records you can paint the walls any colour you like

know i'm never gonna leave you you can stay with me -----

voulez-vous, voulez-vous, you ask the questions but don't follow through

too few freckles under the wrong eye ----

your nickname reminds me of razors i'm sorry i've got a dark mind ----

she is the prettiest poison in apology glass bottles they'll break on your face as soon as you kiss one ----

and wait for the Aurora, borre Alice and as Aurora bore Alice she has been erased -----

we brought her home today she's got a deep voice and when she cries the floor shakes ----

you're so commercial there's industry in misery

you're clueless like me -----

my heart's feet under my mind is caught in my throat tread all the water I got I wish I could float

my heart's feet under my mind is caught in my throat tread all the water I got til the water... chokes

I don't expect a stranger to row up in a life boat don't expect a savior to show up with a raincoat do you expect the answer to show up at your door I don't ----

I've got you in a jar you should not have told me that I seem to like to tap on glass how long before you get tired of this? you'll only get all cut up again breaking out twist around the other way you'll tangle up your puppet strings cutting through the puppet strings -----

the transient

it was all a stupid dream I woke up with your jewelry on my throat -----

tugging on my strands of hair and thanks to you I'm stranded here ----

to see you as i do i wish that you could you're a little to rough on yourself, I believe if it isn't enough if your writing is "good" you can grow as an artist but fire won't breathe

it's life or death for your ideas a title that transcends the years you'll always mean a lot to me regardless of whether you're man of the century -----

he's got music in his head

I want you to be happy even if it means i'm left behind -----

the whole time I was thinking how she's so much more perfect than me with each other you can be yourselves I'm a skeptic- I warp reality

I hate my smile the two of yours spell perfect chemistry you figured out soon enough I'm not the replacement your heart thought I would be

no date no hurt I hope I'm not jealous, if I am it's only of your happiness no lies no secrets everyday in silence, my thoughts growing heavy in my pockets ------

don't mind me I'm only special ---

you cry yourself an ocean hoping it'll drown you I'm sick of playing coast guard to your soul -----

screw the rules, say whatever you want within the walls of the school ----

I saw the light I saw the light I saw the light it passed right through you are you wearing thin my friend?

I saw the guns they were shining in the sun you were born with an army in your hand have you sent them marching in my friend? off to distant lands... ----

my beauty only lies within the clouded eyes on my beholder beholder is no longer blinded I'm a dream you won't remember -----

not gonna kill myself over a bad day, used to be yours but it's your loss anyway -----

stitch-hearted smiles ------

ask me what I'm writing it's ruined and YOU'RE SITTING RIGHT THERE I get a new enemy every year and I make him promise not to care (well it never works) ----

planets in the sewers full of shaved-off hair that's gotta go somewhere -----

love seems to scare you- let's talk about death

like a river, will you take me? ----

I feel better for having spoken ----

you can suck my APATHY

do they speak in signals do the signals carry speech?

we're not broken up just changed

all I do is drink your voice

If I loved somebody I'd be important

my lungs aren't lungs they're a summed-up mess ------

(these are old cause i saved them for some reason)

what are these crystal spheres they fall like rain yeah fall like rain what is this sticky river raindrops fall and sting the spring

red the fissures cut like scizzors red the oil, yeah red black gold my soul the fissures cut like scizzors red the oil, uh red black gold my soul

tangle me in metal strings and string me up like in my dreams

I feel left out of my own conversations silence is an innovation rowing nowhere on a rubber stream

shot my twin brother, thought he was me

saw pavlov's dog chasing schrodinger's cat

I write all these songs 'bout a soul in denial neglected to mention that person was me

there will be other mud-spattered clothing

tournez la page en vie and rivers run avant de vous fermez un oeil

the road will be long the path will be varied some climb to the top and then others are carried

I'd tell my friends but then they would care cause of drama, sew-sight scare

we all need change to complain about

you'll take away my children to own and abuse them and make them your bitch you could turn me into a whore for my fame it aint gonna happen i already know your name

tenderly kiss the gangrene don't be ashamed of your sores rotting is only human

I can't stand this body knowing these are the arms you died in

it's a supernova

I relate to people fine if they're like me

fame is vivisection

the dogs start whining, I already fed you today (lay down) ------

you wear yourself well ----

I'm such a waste I take up space but if the space is in your heart then it's ok ----

he can't sing like an angel or scream like a rock star -----

the earth is pressed against my body she said, "I am electrifying, better out me in charge." ----

I'm ok with anything you want because I know you wouldn't want too much through voices taunting and picture eyes that haunt this is trust ----

your face is flushed, I'm turning read where love is dead the notes have bred you're right about the things you said you're hollow wings, a clouded head -----

she's sitting there painting her suicide portrait notes are for writers she thought to herself

she's been walking on flashlights ever since the coals ran out and she thought all the guitars were teeth to whom will she them all bequeath? ----

my heart is a brick ----

it's got an average mean meaning nothing means nothing means nobody means ----

forget the pages, take my dreams ---

I think that these novels have gone to your head let us be what we are, and not what you've read ------

used to think I was the best, I wasn't good enough I guess ----

loved ones strewn about the floor whoever are you waiting for? ----

speak in reply to conform to convention, speak out of turn and you'll catch my attention ----

I've been an enigma lately because you can't read your own handwriting ------

(this one is also from 9th grade)

you broke into my home passed out on the bed left dream marks on the pillow next to your intoxicated head oh no... won't you see this through?

you opened up your eyes scremaing locked and red slurred the words and asked me not to hear the stupid things you said oh no... won't you see this through? don't go... the sky of blackened blue ------

for a second there i believed in myself turns out you thought i was someone else -----

never gonna grow up always gonna lie never gonna be too pretty might as well die ------

you were only a dream but you were my favorite dream

fire's out

you realized I'm no replacement ------

like this guitar my walls have scars we've all got scars because of me -----

say things to me you needed someone to say to I just want someone I can say

one for change and one to keep it

been thinking about you got nothing better to do

you don't deserve these pictures I wish I could pray your nightmares gone

--------

Unfinished Songs in my Songbook

jeans getting too tight on my legs feet getting too big for my shoes anger's getting too much for my skin to hold one of these days, gonna break lose

body's getting too frail for the grip (my addictions) ego's swelling to great for my skull (go on feed it) hair in my face too long to see anything one of these days, losing control --------

I'm sad, it's hereditary guess I got blue genes oh ha ha very funny it's got an average mean meaning nothing means nothings means

you're bad, this is necessary pass on your cesspool genes we'll smile on our offspring teach them the average mean meaning nobody means nobody means nothing means nothing means

I'm done with thinkin about old wars we'll breed the cutest maggots your mother ever saw

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thea-in-the-abbey · 6 months

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Dear Diary, First let me say how grateful I am to call New England home- nothing compares. Living in Vermont, though slightly isolating at times, has helped reduce many of the daily stressors I faced in Tennessee. Vermont is unmeasurably beautiful and, in many ways, reminds me of the mountain I was raised on- Brockdell Mountain in Pikeville TN. It was a magical place to live if you were a child, and the world was still new. I miss my mountain dearly. If I could have lived there my entire life, I would have. If not there than let it be Vermont.

The mountain itself was beautiful and it was where my family planted our family tree. The people there were some of the nicest people you could have hoped to meet. However, there was equally as many who would make your blood freeze if you were unlucky enough to meet them on a deserted road on a star lit night. The real reason I moved away when I graduated high school was because I knew I would be murdered if I didn't. Southern sensibility can be very unforgiving when the world realizes your no longer a child. Being burnt alive in your house is a terrifying and very real possibility when you are queer in the south.

I have been assaulted in a public library, harassed in grocery stores, ignored by physicians, and silenced by law enforcement; all in the same year. I have been chased down a curvy road on a rainy night with a baseball bat. To be alive, for me, is nothing to scoff at. Its precious. As Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR) approaches, I cannot help but be reminded of that. Especially In the face of blatant disregard. Disregard strikes deep in the vein of indifference. How easy it must be to stack people in coffins when you realize their very worth is measured in their silence.

Tennessee was scary- so I was eager to find a place as liberating as Vermont is. I wish that I would have moved here sooner. It has awakened something so deep in me, that at times it feels as if I am at total peace with the world. Life here in Vermont is magical but it isn't perfect. Vermont is removed from the harsh realities of other states and at times it can be jarring.

For instance, when people speak about the identities of others with a strong sense of detachment, there is little hesitation the recall the fact that being human comes with stipulations. As if being trans makes you something other than human. A notion that stings in the most numbing of ways. If not human, then what? Will you call us demons then act shocked when we act devilish? Thats the point though, isnt it- you hope to call us nothing. You hope to make us undone. See us bound and broken- no not seen at all. Not heard. Without any self-awareness, erased.

That is the only thing that I can think of when you laugh at the names, we have given ourselves. As if asking for respect is absurd or too great a price to pay. To undermine the language and boundaries that people have created to exist- is cruel. Especially, when we have had to carve a place out for ourselves despite adversity. Words matter and so does the identities people have cultivated to understand those identities.

PS- when asking questions, let the first be, "What steps have a taken to understand this concept?" If nothing than take time to research. If you read something and need clarification- proceed.

#transgender #transisbeautiful #words matter #take time to listen

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dprpnshmntlf · 6 months

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With these absurd rent prices these days, it’s understandable why I would move in with other people to split rent and expenses. What most people don’t understand however, is why I stay in a house where I am subject to discipline from all 6 (4 girls, 2 guys) of my roommates.

It was never formally established. There was no mutual agreement among roommates for punishments. It just happened one day. The rule of the house was, if you make a mess, clean it up. Well, I had been getting lazy and started procrastinating, putting off cleaning my messes for a day or two. After several confrontations and promises to do better, one of the girls, Samantha, finally just snapped.

There was an audible gasp from the room, as Sam grabbed me and pinned me down over her knee. She caught me off guard and before I could react, she already began beating my ass. Even with everyone watching, I shamefully did not even make it one minute before I started kicking and howling, but she didn’t let up for a second. After several minutes, she finally stood me up and told me that I will behave from now on. I just sniffled and nodded.

I think we all pretended that was just a weird one time thing, but we all knew something had changed. Next week, Beverly got busted for eating Penelope’s prepped work lunch. They argued about it for a few minutes, until Beverly decided that Penny was being petty and needed to shut up. Rather than continue the pointless argument, Bev just grabbed a wooden spoon, forced the smaller Penny up onto the table on her back with her legs up, and let her have it. Within minutes, Penny was bawling and apologizing for her behavior. After that, Penny agreed to prepare an extra lunch for Bev every day.

Then the next day, Todd and Benny were watching the game on the communal TV, when Penny told them that she wanted to catch up on her new favorite reality TV show. They were only given one warning and one chance to give up the remote or face the consequences. I guess the guys thought it was a good idea to call her bluff, but they quickly learned that, despite her size, she could be very intimidating. Enough to get them both bent over the couch with their pants down while getting their butts whacked with the remote. Any hope of preserving some kind of upper hand from watching Penny cry during her spanking, dissolved as she took out her frustrations on their bottoms, making them cry faster and even harder than she did.

After that, a hierarchy formed. At the top is Sam. Even though she is not as imposing as Bev or Mallory, nor as intimidating as Penny, she has a confidence that no one can challenge. She is in charge. No doubt. She spanks all and nobody gives it back. Whatever she says is law.

Next is Bev and Mallory. They spank each other on occasion and they spank everyone else frequently. They spank hard and ruthlessly. Only Sam keeps them in line.

Next is Penny. She is right in the middle. She is not allowed to spank any of the girls (she tried before, but it always resulted in her being the one getting spanked, even when the other girl was objectively the guilty party). But she is in charge of us boys and we are not able to spank her back. She kind of adopted the role of house mom. She checks to make sure we do our chores, she cooks dinner, she makes sure we maintain proper hygiene, picks out our clothes for the day, checks our undies for skidmarks, and makes sure we play nice amongst ourselves. Should we fail on any of these fronts, we get a taste of her belt. She also took over getting me ready for bed.

Todd and Benny don’t spank any of the girls, nor do they spank each other, but they do enjoy having their way with me. After Mallory pulled down my pants to administer a late night attitude adjustment, everyone discovered my secret: that I’m a bedwetter who wears diapers at night. That firmly established me at the bottom of the pecking order. I am not allowed to spank anyone else and everyone else can spank me. I sometimes get multiple spankings in the same day. Todd and Benny like to spank me just for being a baby. They take turns holding me down and spanking my butt, but to be honest it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as when the girls take charge.

That being said, in order to keep us guys from getting any bold ideas, we are constantly reminded of our place by the lacy panties the girls keep us in. The girls picked them out for us. Sometimes, if Penny decides my behavior is especially childish as of late, she will change me out of my wet bedtime diaper and into a new diaper for the whole day to remind me of how childish I am. That being said, if I’m not diapered, I’m in panties and the other two are always in panties.

It’s not uncommon to see all 3 of the boys with our pants down, tight thong wedgies up our butts, and our bottoms getting spanked bent over the couch. Or to hear Sam going to each of the other girls’ rooms to deliver individual spankings. And once per month, Sam lines up all 6 of us, pants down, grabbing our ankles, to each receive several rounds of the paddle.

My roommates are not shy about how they treat me. If I misbehave, even if I have friends over, I get scolded like a child and spanked. Bare bottom/panties (or diaper) exposed for all to see. Penny will come find me around 7 to say, in front of my friends, “Come on, Tater Tot! It’s diaper time! Once we get you changed, you can go right back to playing, okay?”

When they see how I live, my friends often ask why I stay. There’s a few reasons. For one, sharing the financial burdens makes it a lot easier to save money. I really cannot afford to move out. Secondly, I am starting to appreciate the added discipline. I am noticing improvements in my daily life. Additionally, to be embarrassingly honest, I used to wet my bed a lot. I’d get lazy and “forget” to wear a diaper. But ever since Penny took over, not only do I get to stop worrying about if I remember or not, but I have someone that actually changes me into my diaper for the night. I just get to lie back and let her take care of me. It’s kind of relaxing and actually makes my life a surprising amount easier. And finally, despite all the spankings and discipline that goes on, these people are actually my friends. It’s not all punishments. We have game nights and watch movies together. We go out to eat and go to the beach. We’re a fun group of normal adults who all happen to wear panties and most happen to get spankings. And one of us needs diapers, which the rest are totally cool with, despite the occasional light teasing. I am actually very grateful for my situation.

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somebodysomewhere98765 · 7 months

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What am I? Who am I? Why did it have to be like this? Why is it all anyone sees? I am more than the body I am trapped in. I wouldn't say nobody understands. I'm sure there are people out there who do. But the ones I need to, will never understand. It is simply what it is. Fate. It can never change. Regardless of how much I try to convince myself, I must accept that they will never understand, they never had to experience it. If they did, they wouldn't have done what they did. However, that is no excuse, to not have tried at the least, not after all the crying, begging and humiliation I suffered, for you to not have so much as spared a glance at my tear stained face. The stinging, the pain of the untold story; of the daughter I never could be, but tried with every bit of my being to be, and the son you could never accept. The heart wants what it wants. And it simply wants to be accepted. The price I would pay for acceptance is outrageous. But during my measly years on this earth I have understood, you can never truly put one on it. The survival of the fittest is no joke. It is very much reality; mine and yours. They say, difference is never celebrated, But I object, for it is, only so long as it is of the acceptable kind, the useful sort. I'm no writer, nor do I express any form of interest in this medium. But I really do not know; how else to convey these emotions I feel, nor anyone who would express enough interest to lend an ear and grasp the point of origin of my thoughts without deviating. But I cannot blame them. If I wasn't the way I am, I wonder, if I would be the same way, no different than the rest. If I weren't different, perhaps I wouldn't have been trapped inside a flesh prison, screaming, crying, scratching the walls aimlessly, but constantly begging, no, hoping for someone to hear me and let me out. Its pointless; everybody knows. And I should too. But something inside me, stops me, tells me: "just a little longer". I can't help wonder, how much more, before my knees give out, before my nailbeds bleed, before I simply cannot take it any longer, and give in to the desolate, but inviting, darkness. If I rip my own heart out with my bare hands and place it on a platter and hand it over to them, will they let me out then? I ask this question despite knowing the answer, for I had already done it ages ago. When I was still a hopeful, mindless fool. The present isn't much different, I'm nothing more than an absolute moron, who knows exactly what happens to the likes of me, but dares dream of the future.

Its a miracle I've survived so far, for I'm definitely not the fittest; a mere bottom feeder. I tell you, loneliness is a powerful drug. Once u get used to it, u cannot let go. It wraps over you like a cozy blanket, sort of like a shield, protecting u from reality. I don't say harsh reality, as reality in itself is cruel and doesn't need to be separately described as such. For every time I experience a glimmer; of hope, of relief, of expectance, it is so forcefully, cruelly, mercilessly snatched away from me, before I could so much as look at it. Lest appreciate, or indulge myself in it even temporarily, just for a moment. So instead, I find myself indulged beyond understanding, inside my head, where I'm loved, cared for, desired, accepted, for who I am. Fulfilled, and content with how I am. Not mocked, laughed at or taunted for what I am. All I feel is a safe, warm, cozy rug wrapping around me, making me forget the consequences I must suffer for a 'sin' I never wanted nor intended to commit. But, alas, I was judged by the jury of life itself. Following the constitution of the world, rewarded with a verdict so hateful, and a punishment I must undergo and cannot escape. But you must know: there, inside, lives a prince, dancing, to a sweet melody with not a care in the world, he moves his hand along to the rhythm of the sweet musical notes, dressed in finery, with jewels adoring his neck, extending to his bare chest. He mouths out the words of the song: "the heart wants what it wants" while moving in sync with the music, as lively as a wave hitting a rocky shore. An ethereal sight, bewitching anybody and everybody who could so much as steal a glimpse. Visible are the scars on his chest, but he dances away, as carefree as one could be, in the pouring rain. The raindrops stain his face giving the illusion of tears as he smiles.

#lgbt #transgender

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lindajenni · 8 months

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sep 1

a month of possible changes

"Jesus said to her, 'did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?" john 11:40

this was the assurance our Lord gave to the sister of lazarus, whom He loved. it's the assurance resounding throughout the past two thousand years, reaching to our ears now.

i am skipping the usual "familiar friday" message today because my heart is filled once again with expectancy and hope entering with this month. will it be just another hope dashed or will it be a precursor to the most violent of all times - the wrath of almighty God poured out? i cannot speak for all, but i would gladly suffer a thousand disappointments than fail to watch for the one that wasn't.

i do not ask that He must prove His Word is true to me, and that before i can believe He first must let me see.

it is enough for me to know ’tis true because He says ’tis so; on His unchanging word i’ll stand and trust till i can understand.

— e.m. winter

i may not be a watchman but i am surely a "watcher." our Lord told us all to watch and pray. "take heed, watch and pray; for you do not know when the time is." mark 13:33 the feast of trumpets has long been regarded as the next feast day to be fulfilled by our Lord, and many signs in the heavens and on earth are indicating this might really be the one.

that does not mean we simply abandon our our everyday efforts. it means we occupy and continue in our well-doings, whatever they may be. we continue to shoulder whatever cross the Lord has assigned us. there is a poem called “the changed cross.” it represents a weary one who thought that her cross was surely heavier than those of others whom she saw about her, and she wished that she might choose an other instead of her own.

she slept, and in her dream she was led to a place where many crosses lay, crosses of different shapes and sizes. there was a little one most beauteous to behold, set in jewels and gold. “ah, this i can wear with comfort,” she said. so she took it up, but her weak form shook beneath it. the jewels and the gold were beautiful, but they were far too heavy for her.

next she saw a lovely cross with fair flowers entwined around its sculptured form. surely that was the one for her. she lifted it, but beneath the flowers were piercing thorns which tore her flesh.

at last, as she went on, she came to a plain cross, without jewels, without carvings, with only a few words of love inscribed upon it. this she took up and it proved the best of all, the easiest to be borne. and as she looked upon it, bathed in the radiance that fell from heaven, she recognized it as her own old cross. she had found it again, and it was the best of all and lightest for her.

God knows best what cross we need to bear. we do not know how heavy other people’s crosses are. we envy someone who is rich; his is a golden cross set with jewels, but we do not know how heavy it is. here is another whose life seems very lovely. she bears a cross twined with flowers. if we could try all the other crosses that we think lighter than our own, we would at last find that not one of them suited us so well as our own.

whatever your cross may be, know it is well suited for He will not allow us to be burdened above what we are able to bear. as such, we must all bear our cross and continue in the battle of good against evil. the good news that someday - and i believe someday soon - we will lay all our burdens down for we will be lifted up, almost weightless, to heights beyond our wildest dreams.

i read governor huckabee (the dad) said something the other day and we should all pay attention. he said. "our battle is no longer horizontal but vertical, meaning our warring must be in the heavenlies. so true, and yet in reality, was it not always? those who understand the eternal blessings which come from our Lord know that no sacrifice is too great, no price too heavy, no struggle too difficult in order to receive those blessings. there are never too many miles to travel, too many obstacles to overcome, or too much discomfort to endure. "but as it is written: 'eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.'" 1 cor 2:9

i can't help it that i get excited as i see each possibility of an impending rapture coming; the fulfillment of yet another "appointed time." i will be seriously watching from the middle of this month , possibly to the middle of next month. (i have heard it said calendars may be off by a month.)

won't you get excited with me? won't you embrace the possibility that this might really be that appointed time? someday it really will be and will you miss that one as well? i receive this as my "rapture month" and none can take it from me save my Lord Himself.

just a word to everyone. due to what i believe the significance this month might birth, you will be reading a few repeats during the coming days. i want to listen closely to what the Holy Spirit might be saying. i just see so much yelling "WATCH" at this time and thus, i will be watching. it's not the yelling we must be listening for - it's that still, small voice. rest assured that if i receive anything i feel from the Lord, i will chime in. God bless us, each and everyone! now let everyone say, "come Lord Jesus, come!"

#jesus is coming #prayer #faith #rapture

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