#all Ukraine is asking is that you hold up to your end of the deal

[chamerionwrites]

i genuinely did not intend for my previous ask to come off as accusatory. i have ASD and have problems conveying and interpreting tone, so if it seemed like i was trying to paint you as something you’re not then i sincerely apologize. you are, however, correct in pointing out that there’s a lot frustration tied to the topic for me, as i’ve time and time again seen people use innocuous-sounding statements about the importance of not being judgmental wrt:kinks as a fig leaf for their habitual pushing of survivors’ boundaries on topics like rape and things like “consent play,” “raceplay,” “ageplay,” etc. as a survivor myself i find much of this stuff extremely triggering, and i’m tired of seeing people whose blogs are plastered with things like simulated SA and CSAM take advantage of others’ good faith when they say things like “don’t judge people for taboo kinks,” knowing that most will assume they mean stuff like vore or inflation or whatever. i’m trying to imply that you are one of those people, but i don’t think people realize how generally positive statements like “don’t judge others’ kinks” can be co-opted by those with harmful intentions.

So first I want to say that it's understandable for these subjects to be emotionally taxing (and yeah, triggering), and also that it's kind of a lot to deal with in the space of a Tumblr post. I'm going to try to be both careful and somewhat concise - and sometimes those things can be read as condescending and curt. I appreciate your clarification, I'm trying to answer sincerely, and it is not my intention to come across as either of those things.

Also, we live in the worst timeline where when people say "CSA" they can mean anything on the gamut from horrible crimes such as actual children being assaulted, to ~horrible crimes~ such as having sex ed books in the library or, you know, gay people existing in public. I'm going to assume that you are neither asking me about irl child abuse nor about some cute picture book where two ladies hold hands. My impression from everything you've said here and in the other ask is that your frustrations are centered around people having kinks or sexual fantasies that have something to do with pain/violence/consent/age/etc, and also artistic depictions of sexual violence and/or of underaged characters in sexual situations (again, I'm not certain how broadly you define this; I've seen people object vehemently to coming of age novels that include teenagers having sex, or to eroticized fan art of grown-up versions of young characters). If that general outline of your concerns is off-base somehow, I apologize for misunderstanding.

With those caveats out of the way, there are basically three points I want to touch on:

Point #1 is that all kinds of good/true/useful statements can be and often are co-opted by people with harmful ideas and/or intentions, and that this is not a reflection on the validity of the original statement. It's unsettlingly common for people to advance violently racist arguments about population control on the basis that climate change is happening. This doesn't mean that climate change isn't happening, or that anybody who says "climate change is happening" is responsible for every conceivable way that someone could twist that statement for their own ends. Russian war propaganda (and I am singling out Russia because it's a very current example, but arguments in this vein are a staple of war propaganda generally) says that because neo-nazis exist and are bad (true!), invading Ukraine is good (no). Obviously I'm sketching very quick and broad outlines here because neither of those topics is what we're actually discussing, but I think you can see the point I'm making. It's totally understandable to be frustrated when people twist good arguments for bad ends, but that's not a reason to reject those arguments out of hand.

Point #2 is that "triggering" is a morally neutral descriptor. A lot of people - for fairly obvious and sympathetic reasons - find this hard to swallow. But if you reflect on specific scenarios it comes into focus pretty quickly; someone who was badly bitten by a neighbor's pet may find dogs triggering, but this doesn't make you a bad person for posting pictures of your puppy. A lot of people are triggered by really mundane and innocuous things that - at least to a casual observer - have no clear connection to the trauma itself. Plenty of people are triggered by stuff that's not just innocuous but generally agreed upon to be nice: birthdays, a kiss on the forehead, the smell of a certain food cooking. That's just how trauma works. We put trigger warnings on things so that people can make informed decisions about whether to avoid them or to brace themselves, not to mark those things as inherently immoral and tainted.

What I'm driving at here is that people can have every valid reason for being upset by something without it automatically following that the thing which upset them shouldn't exist. It is 100% understandable for survivors (or anyone else for that matter) to be disturbed by a rape scene in a film/show/book/whatever. That doesn't mean that it's morally wrong to write a rape scene; art is a means of discussing the human experience, some people writing those scenes have experienced rape, and all of us live with rape culture and have thoughts and emotions and experiences pertaining to it. That also doesn't mean that tasteless or exploitative or just plain bad art does not exist, or cannot be criticized as such. It means these things have to be judged on a case by case basis - how art handles sensitive subjects, not just the fact that it chooses to explore them - and that sometimes people are going to disagree about those judgments. That in itself can be scary and upsetting to come to terms with, and I get it. It's comforting to have hard and fast rules. It is so much easier to just say "nobody should ever write a rape scene" and be done with it. But imo that would hurt at least as many people as it helped - and most likely far more. If anything is shaming and silencing and soul-crushing to trauma survivors, in my experience, it is the insistence that to speak openly about violence is itself a form of violence.

Crucially, none of that means that you can't have boundaries. Anyone who insists on pushing those boundaries is absolutely and unequivocally in the wrong. At the same time, it's important to recognize that a boundary is a fence that you place around yourself, not a cage that you can order everybody else to stay inside. You're well within your rights to (eg) not read or discuss Lolita, but you can't ban other people from reading Lolita or discussing it in a public space like Tumblr.

Finally, Point #3: you are far from alone in being (at best) grossed out by certain kinks. You are not wrong that people can be pressured and coerced into things that they don't really want to do (which is equally true of the most vanilla of vanilla sex; in fact, if I had to guess, I'd wager that far more people have been pressured into sex acts that are commonly viewed as '''normal,''' specifically because they're viewed as normal - and thus mandatory, or at least weird to quibble about). And you are also not wrong that we live in a society. Of course kink does not exist in a vacuum. In the aforementioned rape culture, for example, it would be genuinely astonishing if a lot of people DIDN'T ever get their wires crossed between fear-arousal and sex-arousal and then fantasize about coercive or violent scenarios. To use a less loaded example, I think if you took a poll you could probably find a good number of people who at a formative age watched some film or other in which a sweaty handsome action hero got tied to a chair, and found that it Awakened Something in them. For that matter I don't even think something as simple as the number of people who get completely undone about boobs (as opposed to some other body part or erogenous zone) is entirely uninfluenced by the way women's bodies - and sexuality in general - are represented in pop culture.

And with all that said...human brains are individualized and complex and frequently pretty strange. Of course kink is influenced by the society we live in...but how exactly that influence plays out, how logical or 1:1 it is, is also individualized and complex and often strange. The primal monkeybrain is sometimes MUCH better at distinguishing different intensities of sensation/emotion than distinguishing different types of sensation/emotion (people cry when they're sad but also when they're furious, or frightened, or delighted, or deeply moved - or sometimes after really good sex, for that matter). Libido often operates very much in the realm of metaphor. Plenty of people do not literally want to fuck monsters, but are really into the rush of danger or the recognition of self in the other or just the idea of desire existing outside the limits of what is '''supposed''' to be desirable. Plenty of people do not literally want to be eaten, but really like the idea of being consumed.

All of which is to say that the reason people are reluctant to be judgmental about kink isn't that it's some magical zone where the rules of critical thinking don't apply. It's that you can't critically evaluate something when you're missing a ton of context, if you haven't been invited into somebody's bedroom you often are missing a ton of context on the whys and hows of what they're into, and there's no way you can demand someone explain all the fine details of their sex life to you without being the bad guy (that's, y'know, sexual harassment). I think it'd be pretty naive to say that nobody has ever kinked on something for cruel or dehumanizing reasons. I also think that cruelty and dehumanization are bad independent of how they're expressed. Abuse is wrong whether the perpetrator is as vanilla as a bottle of extract or the kinkiest person on the planet.

Does that make sense? What I'm saying is that all the potential ins and out of individual human sexuality between enthusiastically consenting adults are way above my pay grade, and what matters is that someone treats their partners (and also people they aren't sleeping with) respectfully and kindly. I don't think there's a world where somebody is into something specifically as a tool to mistreat people that doesn't lead to anyone being mistreated. And I think that sort of thing - actions, end results - is what's most feasible to judge if you don't want to be in the business of prosecuting thoughtcrimes.

Which I recognize is probably not the answer you were after, and like I said I think it's fully understandable to wish for a much more clean-cut and comforting answer when grappling with pretty fraught subjects. But I do think that even if you disagree with EVERYTHING else that I've said here, the basic stance that you're asking me about remains true: normal ≠ moral. Weirdness ≠ violence. Even in your ask above, you've drawn a distinction between non-normative behavior that you see as basically harmless and non-normative behavior that you see as harmful. Which says that we're in agreement that the fundamental question is whether someone's behavior is harmful, not whether someone's behavior is transgressive of social norms.

#normal ≠ moral #cw rape #cw child abuse #on warnings #purity discourse #habanero salsa tag #my posts #ask box

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

I say this in another fandom and thought "That's a game for Jam."

So here we are: Imagine your fanfic would be a TV series and each chapter or several chapters are one episode. What would the synopsis / short description of this "episode" be like?

Bonus: What would the episode title be?

😍

(that's an older ask, because it took me a while to answer - sorry anon, for letting you wait for so long!)

(And I assume this is for Showman?!)

(for the sake of this game we pretend that the chapters would have enough content to cover a full episode)



Episode 1 ("The Start Of Something New"): "In Kryvyi Rih (1995) young law student Volodymyr Zelenskyy meets someone that literally is going to change his life.

Meanwhile in today's Ukraine, Olena has to adapt to the new reality: war and living in hiding."

(Chapter 1 - 4)



Episode 2 ("Meeting You Again"): "Volodymyr meets Olena again and is faced with an unwanted suitor. The first encounter between Volodymyr and Daniil, Olena's boyfriend, doesn't go well and Olena realizes that she maybe has to change her opinion about Volodymyr.

Olena is with the kids on the run and ends up in Bankova, were she is confrontated with the war, while trying to take care of the children."

(Chapter 5 - 7)



Episode 3 ("Basic Instinct"): "Through a series of events, Volodymyr and Olena meet again and a talk in the rain leads to them getting closer. Volodymyr picks up that not everything is perfect in Olena's relationship while Katya notices a strange behaviour in Olena whenever Volodymyr is around.

The reality of war crashes down on Volodymyr, who tries to save the country. With the worries about his family and their lives it all gets too much and Andriy has to support his best friend, while dealing with the new circumstances in his job as Head Of The Office."

(Chapter 8 - 11)



Episode 4 ("Telephone"): "The end of a party makes Volodymyr ponder and Olena has an insightful talk with Katya. A meeting at the video store takes an unexpected turn for Volodymyr and Olena after a phone call, leaving Volodymyr confused about their friendship and feelings.

Olena picks up her work as First Lady in order to help the country and she and Volodymyr have to deal with the separation and barely being able to talk with each other."

(Chapter 9 - 15)



Episode 5 ("On The Edge"): "Volodymyr is faced with having to make a decision about his friendship with Olena and realizes he overstepped some boundaries. At the same time, his lies catch up with him and he gets some fatherly advise as well as the support from his friends. Olena has a confrontation with Daniil, leaving her questioning her feelings and the relationships in her life."

(Chapter 16 - 17)



Episode 6 ("Amicable Best Friends Feelings"): "Volodymyr and Olena reconcile and they're getting closer with shared interests. Volodymyr realizes he finally has to admit his lies to Olena. The team has some thoughts about Daniil and the relationship with Olena which leads to a argument between Volodymyr and Denys and an observation by Alexander. Volodymyr starts to question his friendship with Olena and his feelings. Olena finds with Volodymyr's help the courage to be brave."

(Chapter 18 - 20)



Episode 7 ("A State Of Panic and Fear"): "The events in the first days of war and the consequences of the escape from Kyiv catch up on Olena and the kids and they all have to deal with the trauma and the war in their own way. Olena battles with her mental health and feeling alone and not strong enough to endure and hold on until she finds the strength in some unexpected places. Kyrylo has to battle his fears. Oleksandra tries to hold the family together and reconnect with her mother. Kat and Vadim realize that their escape from Kyiv also left traces on them and they reveal a big secret."

(Chapter 21 - 24)



Episode 8 ("Crucial Moments In Past And Future"): "Alexander has some news for Volodymyr and Denys and Volodymyr discuss their views on Ukraine and the future. Meanwhile, Olena receives some news too that leave her with having to make a decision about her studies. When she tries to find support and comfort by Daniil, a date night turns out different from what she expected."

(Chapter 25 - 27)



Episode 9 ("About Families, Friends And Feelings"): "After the big fight with Daniil and the relationship in unsure waters, Olena starts to question her feelings and future. A phone call with Volodymyr takes an unexpected turn for both of them. Volodymyr has to deal with his feelings and tries to find clarity. Olena finally tells her parents about the presentation."

(Chapter 28 - 29)



Episode 10 ("We Like To Party"): "Volodymyr attends the party with Denys but things go not as planned. Discoveries are made, secrets are revealed. Alexander has to be the savior in need."

(Chapter 30 - 31)



Episode 11 ("Missing"): "After a talk with her mother, Olena makes a decision about her relationship. Two surprises lead to different emotions and situations Olena has to deal with. With new-found clarity, Volodymyr makes a plan about his relationship with Olena and tries to hold his feelings in check.

In Kyiv, Andriy has to console Volodymyr while the separation from his family takes a hard tool on him. Volodymyr remembers some happy moments from his past."

(Chapter 32 - 35)

[coochiequeens]

Women and children are now living in a war zone and I’m supposed to feel sorry for a couple that’s putting money, time and energy into finding a woman to exploit instead of adopting? 

Irish couples seeking surrogacy services are being forced to turn to unregulated destinations now Ukraine is off the cards – and are also facing higher costs in their bid to start a family.

Ukraine was considered the gold standard for surrogacy services for Irish couples.

However, due to the Russian invasion in February, intended parents (IPs) are now turning to other nations, some of which are unregulated for surrogacy and many of which have extortionate price tags for these services.

Cork couple Sam Bengtson and Jason Carrig have undergone two attempts to welcome a baby through surrogacy in Ukraine, but both were unsuccessful.

They were due to make a third attempt earlier this year, but their plans were stalled when the war broke out – putting them back to square one, with no obvious country to turn to as an alternative.

‘We spoke with the doctor two days before the war broke out and the last thing she said to me was: “Come over as soon as you can.” We were preparing to fly out as soon as possible and then all of a sudden, the war broke out so everything was put on hold,’ Ms Bengston told the Irish Daily Mail.

‘Everything was up in the air. It left a lot of people in our situation wondering where to turn to next.

‘It was quite challenging to think of where else you could go because Ukraine was seen as the gold standard in how this was set up and how well it was run and all of the regulations they had in place to protect IPs and surrogates.

‘There is no other country that is as well-set-up and as cost-efficient as Ukraine would be.'

Following months of research, the couple decided to go to Georgia, as it is the most similar to Ukraine in terms of how it regulates the surrogacy process. Ms Bengston has completed her IVF round, and the couple are now back home in Ireland waiting to be matched with a surrogate.

An egg retrieval procedure is performed at a fertility clinic or other medical facility. Viable eggs are then transported to a laboratory, where they are combined with sperm to form an embryo.

However, the fact that Georgia is not usually popular for Irish IPs is causing added anxiety for the couple, as the same level of advice is not there from other couples who have been in their position.

Ms Bengston, 40, said the cost of the process in Georgia is around €60,000 – over €10,000 more than it would be in Ukraine – while she expects to spend at least another €10,000 on flights, accommodation and spending money.

‘Not everybody can afford this and we’re struggling ourselves,’ she said.

She added: ‘It’s a lot to ask for but how can you put a price on getting a baby at the end, getting a family that you’ve always wanted.’

The wait time to be matched with a surrogate in Georgia is also longer than in Ukraine, with most couples being told to expect a wait of six months compared to a maximum of three in Ukraine.

‘The closest fit in terms of regulation would be Georgia in the sense that you have contracts that are set up, the IP mother’s name is put down on the birth certificate,’ Ms Bengston said.

‘We’re able to work on an exit process which takes slightly longer than Ukraine but is still manageable. We can trust that the legislation is set up to protect all parties involved. It’s nerve-racking going to a new country, a new clinic, dealing with new doctors, going through your whole detailed medical history. It’s very personal, it’s very upsetting to go through and the number of tests you have to go through is quite intrusive.’

She continued: ‘To go through all of that again, it just feels like we’ve rewound 18 months to where we were in Ukraine.

‘I’m trying to think of the quality of care that I’m getting which is fairly good here instead of just worrying a bout the what-ifs of being in a new country.’

Ms Bengston is also a committee member of Irish Families Through Surrogacy, which offers advice and support to those looking to start their family through this avenue.

She warned that IPs are taking desperate measures to ensure they can still go through with surrogacy.

Some are turning to unregulated countries, while others are even considering returning to Ukraine.

While the US and Canada both offer surrogacy services, the cost comes in at over €100,000, which is out of reach for many.

Ms Bengston said: ‘Desperate people are doing desperate things at the minute. They’re looking into everywhere possible and exploring all avenues. 

‘A lot of people are trying to balance cost with regulation, with feasibility.

‘People have been looking into Mexico, Cyprus, so there’s a lot of confusion out there.’

She added: ‘Cyprus is something that comes up quite a lot but it is an unregulated country in the sense that surrogacy contracts cannot be upheld in a court of law.

‘There are some people considering going back to Ukraine and we are advising against that because there is a war, it is a war zone.

‘You don’t know what area is going to be targeted next; to go out there to take a level of calculated risk, the Department of Foreign Affairs is advising against it.’

A spokesperson for the Department of Foreign Affairs said it does not hold records in cases of international surrogacy where births have not already taken place.

‘The role of the department in cases of international surrogacy concerns the processing of applications for travel documents for children born through international surrogacy arrangements and providing consular assistance, if necessary, in the country of birth,’ the spokesperson added.

So the Irish people know the difference between men and women when it comes to trying to buy a baby but not when it comes to women’s sports?

#Ireland #anti-surrogacy #Anti turning babies into commodities #Stop exploiting Ukrainian women #No one is entitled to bio children

[chubbycaucasianchristiancloseted]

Does anyone still believe anything that comes out of Hunter Biden’s mouth?

Does anyone still believe anything that comes out of Hunter Biden’s mouth? Him and his father embellish stories out of this world, tell half truths and complete lies. Do you really think slow Joe was able to ditch the Secret Service? Every story the Biden’s have ever told about each other is a lie.

Direct Quotes:

Hunter Biden is the president's second son, a Yale-trained lawyer and a lobbyist, whose well-publicized drug problems, personal scandals and business dealings seem to have kept him in the headlines for all the wrong reasons.

"I can't. But I can say this, is I'm cooperating completely. And I am absolutely certain, 100% certain that at the end of the investigation, that I will be cleared of any wrongdoing."

But Hunter, who was kicked out of the Navy Reserve after failing a drug test, grappled with substance abuse for years – and after Beau died of brain cancer in 2015, Hunter said he started binge-drinking vodka so heavily that his father intervened.

"He came to my apartment one time," Hunter recalled. "And this was when he was still in office as vice president, and so he kinda ditched his Secret Service, figured out a way to get over to the house. And I said, 'What are you doin' here?' He said, 'Honey, what are you doing?' I said, 'Dad, I'm fine.' He said, 'You're not fine.'"

"Yeah," Hunter said. "I spent more time on my hands and knees picking through rugs, smoking anything that even remotely resembled crack cocaine. I probably smoked more Parmesan cheese than anyone that you know

Beau's death shook the entire Biden family, but the way Hunter dealt with his grief made headlines when he began dating his brother's widow.

Smith asked, "After Beau died, you started a romantic relationship with Hallie, his widow.

And then, in 2014 the younger Biden took a job on the board of a Ukrainian energy company, Burisma Holdings, at a time when his father (who was then vice president) had an active role in U.S. policy toward Ukraine.

"Because I really didn't. I'm being as honest with you as I possibly can. All I know is that not one investigative body, not one serious journalist, have ever accused, has ever come to the conclusion that I did anything wrong, or that my father did anything wrong."

The report, Smith said, does not specifically reference the alleged Hunter Biden laptop. "Was that your laptop?" she asked.

"For real, I don't know," Hunter replied.

"I know. But you know that, this isn't ..."

"But my point is, I really don't know. The answer is, that's the truthful answer."

"You don't know, yes or no, if the laptop was yours?"

"I don't have any idea. No idea whether or not …"

"So, could have been yours?"

"Of course, certainly," Hunter said. "There could be a laptop out there that was stolen from me. It could be that I was hacked. It could be that it was Russian intelligence. It could be that it was stolen from me."

"And you didn't drop off a laptop to be repaired, in Delaware?"

"No. Not that I remember at all. At all. So, we'll see."

Hunter Biden says he's "rebuilding" now, and sober since he married South African film producer Melissa Cohen in May 2019.

#USA #TheChubbyCaucasianChristianClosetedConservative #JoeBiden #HunterBiden #Trump

[therockblog]

The third encounter

The next gem show that came along was decidedly less impressive. Not outright bad, but the bad vendors got bolder, and the good ones weren’t doing much better. Obvious fakes, perfect alexandrites that would be worth five figures yet didn’t have proper lab reports, had oblivious attendees scrambling to take their pick, convinced they were getting a good deal. The stones that were real were poorer in quality, and lacked the luster that made them so attractive in the first place. Pseudoscience must’ve gotten popular, as many of the tables were occupied by ladies wearing tie-dye shirts claiming that obsidian could “unblock your chakra”, or something along those lines. 

It took half the time to get through each vendor compared to last year’s, and by the end I was ready to leave early and go to a restaurant for lunch with the money I originally set aside to use at the show. 

“I think we missed a few up front, why don’t we walk back there and see what they have?” My friend was there to accompany me, though she had no interest in gems herself. It was a weak, though genuine, attempt at trying to make me feel better. 

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” I answered with a shrug. If anything, it would be a waste to leave so early when the entry ticket was valid for the whole day. 

Just like she said, up front was a smaller table hidden behind a concrete pillar. Presentation wasn’t his strong suit, but that wasn’t particularly important, because anyone with a trained eye could still appreciate the quality of his specimens. And by that point, I had trained well.

I pressed my finger to the glass cabinet. “Could you show me this heliodor, please? And that peridot, the one on the left.” 

Once they were out of the cabinet, I looked under their display mounts to check their size and price. My friend whistled. 

“That yellow one’s expensive,” she said. 

“Actually, it’s reasonable. This one’s from Ukraine, and the mines there are known for producing the best heliodor specimens.” Still, even a reasonably priced heliodor was expensive. Even a small one went out of my budget. With the added price of the peridot, it was just too much. 

 Unlike most of the other tables, this one didn’t have a line to view it. In fact, hardly anyone was around at all. So I decided to try my luck, and whispered to my friend about my newly hatched plan.

In a louder voice, I exclaimed, “This one has an excellent shape, and… oh, but there are some impurities in it. And the peridot has a crack running through the base.” 

“Yes, why don’t we keep looking?” My friend responded. 

That managed to get the vendor’s attention. “Hold on a minute. These specimens… why don’t I give you a discount? 20% off.” 

“I don’t know, it might not be what we’re looking for with our budget,” I told him. 

“What about 30%?” 

30% was as good of a deal as I was going to get. Budget be damned. “Deal.” 

Before I could reach for my wallet, my friend had already tapped her credit card to complete the purchase, and the vendor was getting everything bagged up. “Why did you do that?” I asked.

She laughed. “You seemed down. Consider it an early birthday gift.” 

Free stuff was better than a discount, but a gift from someone was the most special thing of all. 

#writers on tumblr #story #minerals #class project

[olko71]

New Post has been published on All about business online

New Post has been published on http://yaroreviews.info/2023/03/uk-is-poorer-as-a-country-says-michael-gove

UK is poorer as a country, says Michael Gove

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By Daniel Thomas

Business reporter, BBC News

The UK is poorer than it would have been, partly due to the war in Ukraine, but also the pandemic, Levelling Up Secretary Michael Gove has admitted.

But he said ministers were taking action on the soaring cost of living, including giving help on energy bills.

The head of the independent forecaster, the Office for Budget Responsibility (OBR), said living standards were seeing their biggest squeeze on record.

Richard Hughes said Brexit had been similar to the pandemic in its impact.

“It’s a shock to the UK economy of the order of magnitude to other shocks that we’ve seen from the pandemic, from the energy crisis,” he told the BBC.

Poor productivity had also hurt growth, he said.

And he warned living standards would not return to pre-pandemic levels for at another five to six years.

Kuenssberg: When are you going to feel better off?

Asked whether he agreed with the OBR’s assessments, Mr Gove said economic forecasting was “a very difficult exercise”. He added that the UK was dealing with “the aftershocks of two significant events”.

“[There’s] both the war in Ukraine, the first time we’ve had war on this scale on the continent in Europe since the Second World War, and the Covid pandemic, the biggest global health pandemic since the end of the First World War,” he told the BBC’s Sunday with Laura Kuenssberg programme.

“They have had a huge effect on our economy and on others’ economies.”

Mr Gove denied that the government was to blame after 13 years in power, but added: “One can always do better, yes.”

However, he insisted ministers were taking action to address soaring inflation – the rate at which prices rise – by taxing oil and gas firms’ profits and lowering household energy bills.

He also said the Budget had taken steps to help people back to work and to help families, including with childcare.

The OBR forecasts that inflation will fall below 3% this year – down from 10.4% currently – as food and energy prices rise less quickly.

But speaking on the same programme, OBR chairman Richard Hughes said the outlook was volatile given Britain was a net importer of food and energy – the prices of which were set in global markets.

Mr Hughes added that the longer term outlook for the economy was bleak, with people’s real spending power – allowing for inflation – not forecast to recover to pre-pandemic levels until the end of the decade.

Mr Hughes blamed a range of issues for holding back the economy, saying: “We’ve lost around 500,000 people from the labour force, we’ve seen stagnant investment since 2016 and also our productivity has slowed dramatically since the financial crisis and not really recovered.”

He also said that overall output was forecast to be 4% lower than it would have been as a result of leaving the EU.

Last week the Bank of England put up interest rates for the 11th time since December 2021 as it continued its battle to ease inflation.

The decision to lift rates to 4.25% from 4% came after the inflation rate rose unexpectedly last month to 10.4%.

Related Topics

Michael Gove

Personal finance

Inflation

Bank of England

Office for Budget Responsibility

[notsilenced]

What a weird first post. Excuse my formatting; I think I was in high school the last time I used tumblr.

Protecting myself, opening up, being a stubborn bowling pin, and not showering as often as I’d like to.

Let’s just throw that out there as a sort of “headline,” if you will—some words that make people ask, “ew, what the heck?”

I know, it sounds absolutely disgusting, but there’s a reason: every time I get into the shower I want to cry.

Seeing my legs shrink, the hair on my legs and armpits not grow back, and finding clumps of hair in my hands as I try to wash it—it’s hard. I won’t lose all my hair, but I barely had any already. This is me now. This is FH and what I will deal with for the rest of my life.

This is the part where I shrug and say, “well, c’est comme ça.”

It’s extremely possible I told people I’d only be on this immunotherapy for a few months. Well, I lied; I don’t like to make people think this is who I am, because it’s not. I don’t need fake pity. I am not my disease. I am not a product of my disease. I am doing my best to be thankful that this situation isn’t even worse and that I managed over 25 years without a significant heart attack or stroke. The gratitude I have for my life now and the physicians that made sure it won’t be cut short by this disease is immeasurable. But as luck would have it, I’ll need monoclonal antibody immunotherapy the rest of my life.

With that being said, I wish I got credit for even half the strength I’ve mustered up, but life doesn’t hand out participation trophies. As I see my body change, I worry I won’t be able to continue to do the things I love, like downhill skiing, one of the only things that has been a constant my whole life. Sometimes I joke that one would have to amputate my legs to get me to stop skiing, but it’s always me that wishes the pain wasn’t there. It’s me crying in agony. It’s me that just wants to be carried to bed because I just can’t walk anymore.

Looking back at my life, I have overcome so much—unthinkable and unspeakable things. When the glass is half empty, those memories make me feel like the glass is actually completely broken. When the glass is half full, I remember this is not my most difficult struggle and probably never will be. Inevitably, there’s more to come. The past and all of its catastrophes have made me who I am: a strong, sassy young woman that accepts zero nonsense and is on a mission to get my life back to where it should be (but even better).

…Not everyone sees it that way.

I’ve been told that everything I’ve been through is “God’s will”. If that’s what you believe, whatever god you worship sucks.

I’ve been silenced and told I shouldn’t talk about my life. That’s a bit difficult when it’s your life. I’m sorry that I’m not sorry for saying this: I’m not censoring my life so that others can think I’m someone that I am not.

All of this being said,

I think it’s time for me to put my foot down. I am the narrator of my own story, and if you don’t like it, I’m not holding a gun to your head and forcing you to care. (I could see myself acting that way about the war in Ukraine, minus the gun, but that’s because so many of my people are being tortured and killed, yet all that people seem to care about is their own little world and getting what they want.)

I care about myself, and that’s enough for me. As much as I want to be understood, I have to seek understanding of my own body and mind first.

But let me promise one thing: even if I end up with a withered body, or if I lose a lot of hair, or if the world turns its back on a woman that has had the audacity to stand up for herself and what she believes is right, I’m not giving up.

That’s the beauty of being a bowling pin that’s constantly knocked down—you’re always pulled back up and set straight. I make a pretty decent bowling pin.

#fh #immunotherapy #heart #strength #chronic illness #chronically ill #ukraine #ukrainian #health #healthcare #life #c’est la vie #this is depressing #not giving up #nope #not to be that person

[bllsbailey]

Black Radio Host Roasts Kamala Harris and Her Penchant for Saying Absolutely 'Nothing'

He’s not the first to roast a prominent Democrat. Charlamagne tha God of the radio show "Breakfast Club" has set many a Democrat ablaze. He rightfully told Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-MA) that she was the original Rachel Dolezal, a white person who masqueraded as a black woman in 2015. Charlamagne connected this act of cultural appropriation to Warren, who used her fake Native American ancestry to elevate her career. Warren was a 2020 candidate at the time. The black radio host leans Left, but he’s not insane; he’s honest. And he does what most in the liberal media sphere do not—hold their side accountable. No host on CNN or MSNBC would call Warren the OG Rachel Dolezal. No way. He’s also not holding back torching Kamala Harris. The radio host was a guest on "The View" Monday.

First, there’s nothing defensible about Harris. Second, what he said is 100 percent accurate. She says nothing. "View" co-host Joy Behar wondered what Harris' response was when Charlamagne asked who was running the country, Sen. Joe Manchin (D-WV) or Mr. Biden:

Radio host Charlamagne Tha God mocked Vice President Kamala Harris during an appearance on "The View" Monday, saying she said "nothing" when he asked her last year whether Joe Biden or Joe Manchin was the real president. The question from the popular liberal media personality irked Harris and made headlines in December, and Joy Behar couldn't wait to bring it up when he appeared on the ABC gabfest. "You pull no punches with your opinions, which we appreciate," she said. "We’re just like you here. I heard that you asked Vice President Harris who’s the real president here, Biden or Manchin? Did you ask her that question? What did she say?" "Nothing," he said, drawing laughter. "She didn’t really give an answer, but I mean as you can see, it still seems like President Manchin is currently running this country, and I think that was – you know, in hindsight, people thought I was being harsh by asking that question, but now it’s, like, well, damn. Who is running this country? Is it President Biden or President Manchin?" (via Fox News)

First, "The View" is softball compared to what Charlamagne asks his guests. I’d say elevating Manchin to be de facto president is a bit of a stretch. The West Virginia Democrat recently killed his party’s last-ditch effort to pass some form of a mass spending bill. It was going to concentrate on global warming. Manchin’s “no” vote killed any push in the 50-50 Senate, which sent the more liberal members of the Democratic Party into a full-froth tantrum. Some were even saying this derailment of the bill is going to kill us all. That’s no exaggeration. Manchin isn’t the cause of the death regarding the Democratic Party’s agenda on the Hill. This tortured demise was death by a thousand cuts. If Democrats had taken the mindset they took with the heinous gun control bill they passed, they would have gotten much more done. That train of thought was not making perfection an enemy of the good. Why was that approach taken for guns but not everything else? It’s because Democrats were unfocused for two years.

The Democratic leadership’s inability to corral the more unruly elements of their party and make them realize that a neo-Trotskyite spending bill would never pass killed them. I’m not complaining. With a cuckoo crowd like this in charge, Congress getting nothing done keeps us all safe. Biden was elected without a mandate, so moderation of a host of spending items became essential for proper governance. That was the reality. Democrats chose to ignore that fact and ended up getting next to nothing done except trash the economy, send inflation into the stratosphere, and ship truckloads of cash to Ukraine. 

In these times, you need a strong president. The leader of the Democratic Party was AWOL because he couldn’t do the job. He promised to deliver Joe Manchin on Build Back Better. It failed. Mr. Biden is the decades-long fixture in DC, supposedly an ace at deal-making. Yet, one senator proved too much for him. 

Who is running the country? Right now, it’s a council among Pelosi, Schumer, White House Chief of Staff Ron Klain, and a host of lower-level staffers. The nation is in a tailspin because of this confederacy of dunces. 

[vest59wrenn]

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[even-after-a-millennia]

Falling into a New Life

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the alternative prompt Canon Divergent AU! Andy doesn’t get to the base in time, and Nile is on the plane to Germany and tests.  When she dreams Andy calling Booker, what happens when Nile calls the same number?  You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated T | ~2.1k

“Corporal Freeman,” the soldier’s voice cut through her music and brief moment of peace.  “Been looking for you.  Wheels up on your ride.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. 

She felt a tightening in her gut, one that got worse as she flew away from base towards Germany.  Towards more tests.  Something was rubbing her the wrong way about all of this.

She hadn’t slept well since waking up in that hospital bed, so despite her nerves, she began to doze as the hours ticked by. 

“She’s just a baby,” she heard a woman say, looking down at a sketch of Nile’s own face.

“Damn it!”  A fist crashing into the side of a Humvee as a plane, the plane Nile was on right now, took off into the sky.

Numbers were being punched into the phone, then dialing.  “Book, I didn’t get here in time.  Word is she is being sent for more testing and you know what they will find.  You have to cut them off.  Get to her before they find out.”

The man closed his flip phone, turning to the other two men on the train.

“We need to get to Germany,” he said.

The plane rattled side to side and Nile woke, looking around frantically.

What was that?  A dream?  A vision?

She scrambled through her pockets, grabbing her notepad and writing down the numbers before she could forget them.  Pulling out her phone, she looked furtively around the vast open area, but aside from her, the only other people on the plane were the two soldiers who had escorted her to the plane, sitting near the cockpit, and the pilots.

If she called this number and someone picked up, she would know she wasn’t crazy.  And if no one did… then maybe it was a good thing that she was being carted off for testing.

Nile hit dial before she could stop herself.

It rang twice before a slightly accented voice answered, “Hello?  Who is this?”

“What the fuck…” she whispered, pulling the phone away to stare at it.  The call had connected, the seconds ticking by.  She pressed it back against her ear, shaking her head slowly.

“Is this the Marine?” the man continued.

“Yeah,” she answered, her voice rough.  

There was a rustle, then a different voice was speaking, “Can you tell us your name?”

A voice in the back of her mind was yelling about strangers and danger, but she didn’t think that the talks adults gave her as a child ever could have anticipated this.

“Nile,” she forced herself to say.  “Corporal Nile Freeman.  Who are you?”

“We’re like you, Nile,” a heavier accented voice said.  “We want to help you, but first, you have to help yourself.  You cannot get tested by those men.  It will lead to something much worse.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid the other soldiers hearing.

“You have to get off that plane, Nile,” the second voice said.  “We will come and find you, we swear.”

“That’s insane,” she hissed.

“Welcome to the world of coming back from the dead,” the first voice said sardonically.

Holy shit.

That’s what had happened, wasn’t it?  She had felt herself die.  Dizzy had seen it.  Everyone thought she was gone.  They had even taken her dog tags to send to her family.

But then she had come back.

“Shit,” she whispered.

She looked around the plane and spotted the jump door and parachutes.

“No, this isn’t happening.  This is some bullshit.  Is this hazing or something?  Is this fun for you?” Nile demanded.

“Nile, please,” the heavily accented voice said.  There was so much emotion in his tone she stopped.  “Please, you are not safe.  I know you are scared and alone.  But they will do horrible things if they discover you can regenerate.  A jump off a plane is much better than an eternity in a cage.”

“I can’t go AWOL,” Nile said.  “My family-  I can’t do that to them.”

“Corporal Freeman!” One of the men who had brought her to the plane said, approaching.  “I need to take your phone.”

She lowered it without hanging up, alarms ringing in her head.  “What, why?” 

“Protocol for testing.  Could interfere with the machines.”

And he could be telling the truth, but the voices on the other end of the phone were getting desperate even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Are we that close?” she asked, buying time.

He shrugged.  “Somewhere over Ukraine.”

“I’d like to give it to you closer to Germany, sir,” she said, trying to toe the line of defiance and deference.

“Orders are orders,” he said, reaching for it and this didn’t feel right, something was so wrong about this whole thing.

“NILE!” the voices on the phone shouted all at once, loud enough it reached her ear.

She ducked his grab and undid her seatbelt, sliding away from him.

He looked at her, considering.  “C’mon, kid.  Don’t make me break out the restraints.”

She stared at him.  “What the fuck?!” she finally said, putting her phone in her back pocket.  “Nah, nope.  Come and get it.”

He swung at her and she ducked it and hit him in the ribs.  He let out a grunt and bent over.  She grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into her knee, hearing a crack as he groaned in pain.  He stayed down, clutching his nose.

“Hey!”  The other guard had gotten up from his seat at the struggle and she turned to face him, trying to keep one eye on the other man.  

The man took out his gun and pointed it at her.  “You are under arrest for assaulting a superior officer.”

She raised her hands slowly.  “In fairness, he started it,” she felt compelled to say.

He didn’t think she was funny.  

“Stay still,” he said, taking a pair of cuffs out of his tac belt.  

Nile looked at them apprehensively, because those were not standard to have for soldiers in her division, and so why the hell did he have them?!

She stood still, weighing her options.  He holstered his gun, holding the cuffs in his other hand.  She watched him until he was close enough to strike.  She knocked the cuffs out of his hand and they flew down the plane.  He tried to punch her but she parried it and went to dislocate his shoulder, but he kicked out and caught her in the knee.  There was a crack and a searing pain, and she cried out, but kept fighting.

He drew his gun again and they grappled over it.  She knew that she was losing the battle with one leg out of the game and pain fogging her mind.

His finger reached the trigger.

She felt the bullet go through her side and her whole body went momentarily numb as it was overloaded with pain.  Nile fell to the ground, clutching her side.

The guard holstered his weapon and went to check on his buddy and get the cuffs.  Nile breathed through the pain and then paused.

Something was going on with her leg.

She looked down as much as she could without using her stomach muscles that were still screaming and watched as her knee popped back into place, no longer inverted.

Her side started to hurt less, and she lifted her shirt to see the skin that the bullet had torn through slowly knit back together.

Regenerate.  That’s what the man on the phone had called it.

Shit.

She pulled out her phone and spoke over the voices on the other side, “I’m jumping.  We’re somewhere over Ukraine.  I have your number.”

Then she hung up and put her phone in her zippered pocket, got up and ran at the parachutes and hit the button that opened the jump door.

“Corporal!  Don’t do it!”  

She looked back as she shouldered the parachute and clamped it into place.  The soldiers were reaching out to her, trying to get to her in time.

Nile jumped.

She fell, waiting until she was well away from the plane to pull the pin to activate the parachute.

Nothing happened.

“Shit!” she said, trying to pull the backup, but it didn’t budge.

Had they purposefully put dud parachutes in the plane?  Was this some kind of test?  Or had this been a terrible coincidence?

She kept falling, spreading her arms and legs to slow her descent as much as possible.  She forced herself to look down, scope out the area below her.  There was a lake in the middle of a field, and she angled herself towards it, gritting her teeth.  Neither option was good, but with no trees in sight to cushion her fall, she would splat either way.  At least the water would eventually mask her blood.

Nile really hoped that she could actually come back from the dead, cause it didn’t look like she was going to survive this.

The water got closer and she forced her feet below her so at least she wouldn’t meet it head first.  She tucked her arms close to her sides and felt herself shoot downwards faster than before.

She concluded, just before she hit the water, that any fall where she could think about how long she had been falling was too damn long.

Then everything was black.

The three men hopped off the train.

“She’s off the plane, haven’t heard anything since,” the blond said over the phone.  “Said she was somewhere over Ukraine.”

The woman sighed on the other end.  “Fine.  We’ll meet in the middle and find her.  Deal?”

“See you soon, boss,” the man said, hanging up.

“At least we will be able to keep Copley off our tail,” the man with a head of curls said.

“We will still need to go after him eventually,” the blond said.  “He knows about us.”

“Nile first,” the man with the heavy accent and kind eyes said.

Nile gasped awake and immediately coughed up water.  She was floating on top of the lake now, the waters around her red.  She groaned as her body slowly knitted itself back together again, bones and organs recovering from hitting water so fast it felt like concrete.

“Ow,” she concluded once the last shift was done.

She turned her head, looking for the closest bit of shore, and starting off towards it.

It took a lot of effort to drag her waterlogged body onto the sand.  She lay on her back, staring up at the sky for a moment.  

Then she reached for her phone, only to find it cracked and even more waterlogged than she was.

“Shit!”

She pocketed it anyway, because she might still be able to recover the memory chip, even if the rest of it was worthless now.

Okay.  Priorities.

Nile was still wearing her uniform, as wet and bloodstained as it was.  She shucked off the long sleeve shirt of her uniform and surveyed the damage to the short sleeve brown shirt beneath.  The cold water of the lake had washed away much of the blood that had been saturated in it, but she took it off and scrubbed a bit more, just to get as much as she could out.

There was still a hole where she had been shot, but she would deal with that if it came to it.

She found a large rock and tied her shirt around it.  

Then paused.  Rested her head against the rock and the uniform she was about to toss away.

She had been a Marine, like her dad before her.  It hadn’t been an easy decision to join, not with how it had ended for her dad, the imperialism that was steeped into the US military, or the fact that she was a black woman and that would affect her entire experience.  But it had been her life, her brothers and sisters in arms had been her family, and she felt like once she heaved this rock into the water, she would be irreversibly throwing that part of her life away too.

She breathed.  Then she lifted the rock and with a grunt, sent it flying through the air.  There was a large splash and it sank, taking her uniform with it.

Nile watched it go, her throat burning with emotions she couldn’t even name.

Then she turned to find the others who could regenerate like her.

#nile freeman #nileweek2021 #the old guard #canon divergent au #fanfic #my fic

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

I'm Yours

Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Warnings: There's kissing. A lot of kissing. Just some teenagers being dumb really. No canon characters were harmed in the making of this fic. I didn't include a cheating aspect since I don't write for that kind of stuff, but there's still some jealous!Kirishima here >:3

Author's Note:

Uhhhh I kinda forgot to make this fluffy . . . .

Thanks to uwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwi from Wattpad for requesting! (that's a really fun username hehe)

Enjoy!

-Sugar

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══════ ≪ .·:·.♡.·:·. ≫ ══════

Swamped.

That was the only way he could describe it. Kirishima didn’t think he’d ever been so busy, and he wasn’t the only one.

Finals had the entirety of the hero course stressed, especially the second-years like himself. Between training, doing homework, and going to class, there wasn’t exactly room for being social. Any time he was able to hang out with his friends, they were studying together. Nothing he'd really describe as 'fun'. And that’s what had him feeling the worst about all this.

He’d started dating you a few weeks ago—going on three months now, actually. Things had been going well between the two of you. You liked him and he really liked you, so to him, there hadn't been any type of problem.

Even so, there was something a little unique about your relationship: no one knew about it. You yourself were never one for letting others get too involved in your business. And besides, you also knew the nature of most high school relationships. Maybe you’d announce yourselves as a couple and make a big fuss only to grow tired of the other and end it all within the first month. But clearly, that hadn’t happened.

There was a strange thrill to keeping your relationship a secret; a novelty your boyfriend hadn't expected. Though he wasn’t much for dishonesty, Kirishima practically lived for the stolen glances across the classroom you’d share, and the way he’d sneak you behind the school for impromptu makeout sessions with no one ever the wiser. You were his little secret, and he was yours.

Until it had all come to a grinding halt with the extra schoolwork.

He still tried to make time to spend with you in one of your dorm rooms, but the both of you finally had to admit to yourselves that neither of you could get any work or studying done when you were alone together. And so it was back to study groups; holding hands under the table as either Bakugou or Yaoyorozu went over the newest batch of hero laws that needed to be memorized.

God, how he wished this could all be over. Kirishima just wanted things to be normal again. When was the last time he’d even seen you? He could remember watching the back of your head duck out of the classroom at the end of the day, but after? . . . Nothing.

He frowned at the physics worksheet laid before him, mind wandering to thoughts of you as one of his sharp teeth sunk into the eraser at the end of his pencil. Kirishima supposed he should go check on you later, once he’d finished up his assignments for the evening.

…

“Did you see (L/N) yesterday?”

Kirishima’s ears unconsciously perked up at the sound of your name. He stood with his tray in the lunch line directly behind some of his female classmates. They were chatting amongst themselves as they slowly stepped forward. Kirishima wasn’t generally one to listen in on conversations he wasn’t a part of, but now they’d captured his interest. Had one of them seen him sneaking into your room?

“No, I didn’t,” Uraraka said in response to Ashido. “Is she alright?”

“Of course she is,” the pink-haired girl said, rolling her abnormal black and amber eyes as she reached for a clementine. “Actually, she may be doing more than alright.”

Kirishima swallowed. Uh-oh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jirou asked, sounding largely uninterested in gossiping about her fellow classmate.

“Well,” Ashido began, bouncing a little on her toes, “I saw her on the tech floor yesterday and you won’t believe who she was talking to.”

“Who?” Jirou asked dryly, probably hoping to get the discussion over with as quickly as possible.

“Kobayashi Tatsuo. The third year,” Mina announced proudly.

The redhead behind them quietly sighed. Thank goodness. They still didn't know.

“And?” Uraraka questioned.

“They were totally flirting!” Ashido said. “(L/N)’s bagged a cute upperclassman boy! They’ll be dating soon, I just know it! If they aren’t already.” She smugly leveled her shoulders, grinning with an odd look of satisfaction.

What?

“I guess that’s good for her,” Jirou commented, picking up her tray from the lunch bar in order to follow her friends to a table.

“I know, right?” Mina said excitedly as they walked off. “And he’s totally cute too! I wish a hot guy would pay attention to me for once.”

Kirishima watched them leave, almost forgetting to grab lunch for himself after being so absorbed in what they were saying.

The majority of him knew he shouldn’t pay any mind to it. This sort of thing was bound to happen. Of course his peers try to figure out who was involved with who, even if it wasn’t really accurate or from the most credible source. The girls didn’t know that you were already taken by someone else, in fact, the very person behind them in line.

At least now he knew where you’d gone after class yesterday . . . but why? What were you doing on the tech floor? And who was this third year you were talking to?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Kaminari’s voice. Kirishima returned the greeting, sliding into his seat next to his friend. As he settled into the atmosphere of his usual table, he couldn’t help but scan the cafeteria for your face, just as he had done every day, even before you were dating.

But for the first time, his search came up empty. You were nowhere to be seen.

…

Kobayashi wasn’t exactly the person you wanted to be spending your lunch with.

Really, a part of you wondered why you had to skip going to the cafeteria at all today. But then you remembered the stack of work that sat on your desk. It stubbornly refused to ever shrink, no matter what you did. Recently, it felt like as soon as you got one thing done, two more assignments would find their way right back at the bottom. And this was just another one you had to deal with.

While reviewing your materials for your upcoming finals, you’d begun to take note of other heroes’ costumes and support items. Particularly, you’d taken interest in a hero from Ukraine who’d debuted a few decades ago. Your quirk was wildly similar to his and you couldn’t help but further research his techniques, costume, and gadgets that enhanced his abilities.

You weren’t one to copy. Actually, you quite liked the way your current costume functioned and looked, with its own unique style of your own. Even so, you’d read things about him and his quirk that you honestly hadn’t even thought of for yourself, and you’d begun to make a special section in your notebook for improvements to your hero ensemble. Was it the best use of your time? Perhaps not, but you did have a practical exam coming up, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if these improvements you were sketching might make all the difference in your performance . . . .

You decided you could use an upgrade. Which is exactly why you went to the second-year in the support course who was in charge of making adjustments to your costume. Until your hopes were immediately dashed when you found out he was sick. Determined, you went to the next best option: Kobayashi.

He was a nice enough boy. Tall, witty, and a whole year older. You hadn’t expected to be spending so much time with him over the past week, but for whatever reason, he kept calling you back to his workspace in the shop for ‘daily check-ins’. At least he was making good progress.

But now you were spending your lunch hour eating with him. It felt strange, being alone in a different classroom with the guy—not an uncomfortable strange, merely “I’m not used to being here”. You’d let him borrow your notebook full of sketches for your costume, and that’s what he was going over with you now.

He’d ask you for clarification on one of your notes before jotting something down of his own right next to your handwriting. He had also been eager to show you his process, explaining the steps of what he was doing while you ate from your bento.

To be honest, it was kind of nice being in a different setting. Kobayashi was fun to listen to; it was clear he was passionate about what he was doing.

But still, he ran out of things to talk about. That was, when it came to your hero suit. Figuring it was too late to go back to the cafeteria anyway, he ate his own lunch with you, striking up a new conversation.

At first, you didn’t pay any mind to it. But then you began to take notice of how close he sat. Then you realized how eager he was to make you laugh, how smoothly the casual chatter flowed between you. And then it struck you just how much he peppered in compliments to you. Finally, it clicked.

Uh-oh.

You refused to meet his gaze when he waved you off after the bell rang. Dashing away, you wondered how serious he might be. Did he actually like you? No, perhaps you were overthinking the situation.

Then again, he had been being awfully nice to you ever since you’d met. But what if that was just how he was? Kaminari could be like that at times, and you knew he didn’t usually mean anything too serious behind it. Or—well—perhaps Denki the Flirt was a bad example for your case. Still . . . how were you supposed to make it clear to Kobayashi that you weren’t interested?

You shook your head to clear it of these thoughts. He hadn’t actually done anything, so what was the point of worrying about it? You were loyal to Eijirou, you knew that. You’d made a commitment to him just as he had to you, and that was all there was to it. No matter what, you’d continue whatever it was you had with him. Kobayashi wasn’t an issue you should be losing sleep over. Besides, you were probably reading too far into things anyway.

Content with the conclusions you’d made, you walked back into your homeroom class for fifth period. Settling into your seat, you faced the chalkboard in front of you, awaiting the return of Aizawa-sensei, unaware of the pair of ruby eyes fixed on your back.

…

Kirishima shot up from his desk the moment he heard a soft knock on his door. As soon as he opened up his room, you came barreling into his arms. “Hey!” he greeted you, reciprocating the hug.

“Study break!” you announced quietly, not wanting to alert his neighbors of your presence.

He tittered happily to himself, leading your bodies back to his desk where he could sit you on his lap in his chair. Settling comfortably on his thighs, you were quick to slot your lips against his. Kirishima melted into your touch.

How many days had it been since he’d last gotten a chance to kiss you? Two? Three? Either way, it had been far too long.

“Shall we take this to the bed?” he joked after a few minutes of kissing.

You chuckled at his harmless allusion. “You know I’m going to fall asleep as soon as I lay down.”

He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face, concern morphing his features. “Have you been getting enough rest with all this going on?”

“No,” you admitted. “I was up last night with my English flashcards. I swear Present Mic is trying to kill me with this new vocab, it’s like I can’t get it in my head at all.”

“I could help you study it,” your boyfriend offered, his hands resting lightly on your waist.

“That would be productive,” you said sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. “What was it last time? ‘If I get a set right, I’ll get a kiss’ and then next thing I know, we’re making out on your bed for twenty minutes.”

He grinned up at you coyly. “At least I made studying fun.”

“That wasn’t studying!” you protested with a grin. “Speaking of, my timer’s going to go off soon—” you pressed your lips against his for a moment, “—and I want more kisses.”

Kirishima let you have your way with him, threading your fingers through his hair while you savored the taste of his lips. But there was something still nagging at the back of his mind.

“(Y/N)?” he asked when your phone buzzed and you pulled away. “Where were you during lunch today?”

You shrugged, pulling your phone out of your pocket to silence it. “I’m getting improvements on my hero costume. My regular guy got sick so I’m working with this third-year dude.”

“Ohhh.” Kirishima’s worries dissipated almost instantly. “So that’s why you were on the tech floor.”

Confused, you frowned. “Did you see me there or something?”

“Oh, sorry! I just overheard Ashido saying that she saw you down there.” He laughed. “She thought you were flirting with him or something and that you were going to end up dating.”

“Ah, well,” you mumbled, “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything or not but he, um, actually might have been flirting with me.”

Kirishima’s smile dropped, his arms subconsciously squeezing you tighter to him. “What?”

“I only noticed it today—it totally could be nothing—but I think he’s caught feelings? I mean, why else would he ask me to have lunch with him like this? Not to mention how he was smiling at me, and looking at me, and touching my hand—” You bit your tongue, stopping yourself from saying anything else. Maybe this was more serious than you realized.

Your boyfriend was silent, staring at the floor below you with a troubled expression. His ruby eyes traced over the rectangular patterns on his floor, seemingly lost in thought.

“You know that nothing’s going to happen,” you attempted to reassure him, lifting his chin with one of your fingers so he could look into your eyes. “Those feelings aren’t reciprocated and I’m not going anywhere. I’ve already picked you, Eijirou. There’s no one out there like you.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, sealing your statements, not only to him but to yourself. “We’ll sort this out. If I have to tell Kobayashi I’m taken, then so be it. Maybe keeping our relationship a secret isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be.”

When you pulled back, you noticed that there was still a pout on Eijirou’s face.

“Aw, what is it?” you asked, tucking one of his fallen sticky spikes back under his bandana.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, pulling you even closer to him.

“Talk to me, baby.” You ran a hand down his back.

“I don’t like the thought of him being around you,” he confessed into your shoulder. “I . . . don’t want him smiling at you like that, or touching you, or letting people think that you belong with him. You’re . . . mine.” He paused before laughing dryly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. That sounded . . . totally selfish of me and probably not very manly at all—”

“No,” you said simply. “It’s actually kinda hot.”

He pulled back to look at you, perhaps to see if you were joking. Your expression was intrigued, maybe a little flustered. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “I . . . like when you call me yours. It’s cute. And besides, it’s okay that you feel that way. Feelings don’t have to make sense. I'm frustrated about this too.” Pecking his lips a final few times, you regretfully stood from his chair. “I wish there was something more I could do right now, but I should get going. I promised Tsu and Uraraka I’d meet up with them. We can talk about this later.”

“See you, (Y/N),” Kirishima said.

You smiled and waved, turning to the door and checking to see if anyone was in the hall before slipping back out. Kirishima watched you go, wondering what he should do.

Kirishima hadn’t even met the guy and he already hated him. Sure, Kobayashi wasn’t aware you were taken, and he had every right to show interest in you, but that was supposed to be Eijirou. It was Kirishima’s job to flirt with you and be there for you and sweep you off your feet. Your classmates should be shipping you with him, not this random guy from another year.

The redhead sighed. He shouldn’t let himself get so caught up in this. He knew you were capable of sorting this out on your own, and if you really needed him, Kirishima would help you. He couldn’t start getting whiny like some kind of child.

Besides, your friends could think whatever they wanted. It couldn’t affect your relationship. They were just high school kids. They didn’t even know what they were talking about.

Despite the fact he was trying to get back into focusing on his work, Kirishima’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Maybe once exams were over you could finally announce that the two of you were together. Then you wouldn’t have to sneak around so much anymore. He could hug you whenever he wanted, and you could sit on his lap during movie night. He’d be able to kiss you in front of his friends, no problem. Maybe, just to see the look on his face, he’d kiss you in front of—

No, no. Japanese Literature. That was what he was supposed to be thinking about right now. The sooner he finished his work, the sooner he’d be able to see you again.

…

Finally it was Saturday afternoon, and you knew you had an entire day to take things a little easier tomorrow. Maybe you’d even try to take the evening off and spend some time with your boyfriend. But of course, you had to meet with Kobayashi about your hero costume first. Hopefully it would be quick, and perhaps even the last time.

You walked down to the tech floor, heading straight for the workshop. You needed your suit for the practical exam next week, so you hoped he was ready for you.

Peeking into the room, you spotted him putting something into a very familiar case.

“Oh, are you finished?” you asked, walking in.

“Yeah,” he said brightly. “You’re all set, (L/N).”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Here,” he popped the little box open, showing off the finalized improvements he’d done and the changes he’d made that you’d spoken about together. He walked you through everything and you listened politely, asking the occasional question. Even with the newfound bitter taste in your mouth at being around him, you had to admit he'd done a spectacular job.

“That should be everything,” you said, ready to go. “Thanks for working with me.”

“No problem.”

Satisfied, you began to walk away.

“Wait, (L/N).”

Apprehensive, you stopped, turning back to him. “Yeah?”

“I was just wondering,” he began, bashful, “if you’d like to grab lunch with me sometime.”

You frowned, apologetic. “I can’t, Kobayashi senpai.”

“Why not?” He looked hurt.

You winced. “I’m already involved with someone else.”

“You’re just ‘involved’?” he asked dubiously, the expression on his face changing. “Please give me a chance. I can see that you feel something for me too. Whoever you’re with, I could be better.”

“I’m not interested,” you said firmly, any momentary sympathy you might have felt evaporating. “Goodbye, Kobayashi.”

He let you go, watching as you walked stiffly out of the classroom. As soon as you rounded the doorway, you felt something grab you. Gasping, you startled, but you were quick to register a familiar head of red hair. You saw Kirishima put a finger to his lips, pulling you further down the hall and towards the empty stairwell for some privacy.

He pushed you up against a blue-gray wall, grinning at you with hooded eyes.

“Eiji, what—?”

“I heard the whole thing,” he murmured, leaning in and capturing your lips for a quick kiss. “I thought that guy might make a move on you so I followed you down here. You held your own.” He kissed you again; this one longer, his tongue sneaking its way into your mouth. “You’re really mine, aren’t you?” he murmured against your lips, a stubborn trace of hesitancy still present and quavering in his voice.

“Of course I am, Eiji,” you whispered, touching your forehead to his. “I’m yours.”

He surged against you again, kissing you hungrily and pinning you even harder against the solid surface behind you.

You gasped against his force, eyebrows drawing together as you struggled to keep up. “Ei—” you tried. “Not here, let’s go someplace else.”

“Who cares?” he murmured, uninterested in stopping.

“Me. I don’t want to get caught by a teacher or a random fifteen-year-old. We could get in trouble.”

Kirishima sighed, finally drawing back for a moment to meet your eyes. “Okay, fine. But we’re going straight to my room, right?”

You snorted. “Where else do you think I want to be?”

He smirked, taking your hand again. “Good answer.”

Kirishima briskly walked you back to the dorms, his hand migrating ever lower down your back. It wasn’t long before he was sitting you on his lap in his bed, mouth once again connecting with yours right where it belonged.

You weren’t sure he’d ever kissed you like this before, in all the time you’d been together. His passion blazed before you, unrelenting as your teeth and tongues crashed together. He nipped at your lips until they flushed and swelled, and you knew they’d be noticeably bruised by morning but neither of you stopped. He kept going, trailing more kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your jaw, and all the way down your neck only to return right back to your parted lips whispering his name.

Kirishima’s room had never felt so hot and stuffy, even as he pulled off his uniform jacket and helped you out of yours. His cheeks burned red as his eyes, so caught up in what he was doing, the only thoughts his mind was still capable of having were simply You.

It went by in a haze. He wasn’t sure when exactly he’d lowered you onto his pillow, or how long he’d been hovering over you and caging you in with his arms as he cherished you.

But he knew one thing. His love for you wasn’t something he could hide anymore. No, he’d never let anyone think they stood a chance with you again while he was around.

One day soon, he would kiss you good morning at breakfast. One day, you’d hold hands in the halls on the way to class. One day, he’d pull you in close after school, slinging an arm around your hips just so he always knew you were there at his side.

But he was happy to be here with you now. He was happy to be your secret. He was happy, even as his kisses began to soften and slow, content with the way your body melded against his as he laid himself at your side and hugged you closer. All that mattered was that you were here with him now, and he was yours.

And you were his.

══════ ≪ .·:·.♡.·:·. ≫ ══════

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre @basicalyrandom @bumbyslair @f0leysgurl @hyunmin-1404 @kqtsukii @nabo39 @pyrofanatic​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars @sendhelpimstupid @ure-a-sunflower @xoxopam4​

#eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima bnha #eijirou kirishima bnha #kirishima imagine #eijirou kirishima imagine #kirishima eijirou imagine #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x female reader #kirishima x y/n #kirishima x you #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #request fulfilled! #sugar fics

[my-hyperfixation-trash-can]

Hetalia’s Russia and DID/OSDD 1-b

Hey! So @autistic-hetalia your blog said you accept neurodiverse head canons and I thought maybe I could share this one with your blog!

I believe the Hetalia character of Russia has OSDD 1-b (Otherwise Specified Disociative Disorder or possibly DID, being Dissociative Identity Disorder) and this is why.

Just a note,

There is no such thing as an evil alter. Do not demonize people with DID or Other Dissociative Disorders! Those with this disorder are victims of Trauma and are likely to continue being victims of abusers, rarely do they become abusers!

Anyways, -cough cough- I’d love if anyone wants to add to this with more evidence!

1. Russia had a traumatic childhood

He is shown to have had abusive bosses who would punish him. He is threatened by one to invent steam power by the end of the week or be punished. Tartar Yoke mentioned by Lithuania as one of his bosses was also known for his cruelty. So the Authority figured in his youth were often cruel and held power over him.

His environment is cold and unforgiving much like an abusive home. Russia often describes his home as cold, quiet and lonely. He rarely found support from his land and often struggled to get by. The environment and home were harsh with little support. It is also implied he froze to death each Winter, and celebrated the year he didn’t.

This is on top of having to deal with other nations attacking him, making him feel helpless. Many nations “bullied” him in attempts to conquer him. He was mobed and pursed every day by Mongolia. That is exhausting to have everyone around you be a threat. (Lithuania and his sisters were the only nations kind to him in his youth) Early on, he learns that force and strength are what matters.

Next point tw sexual abuse and assault

He also felt a great deal of responsibility to care for his sisters. He was close to them, as they were experiencing similar issues and not violent to him. He had to be the strong one. Belarus and her unhealthy attachment to Russia depending on the age she started her behaviors may have also contributed to his trauma. All of the siblings have unhealthy attitudes towards boundaries with their bodies and the bodies of others, implying another type of abuse. Ukraine and Belarus took victim roles. Russia took on an abusers. Ukraine only ever suggests using her body to get what she wants as if never taught anything else, even as a child that’s what she knows. Belarus I don’t know where to begin, but her staring off is certainly dissociative like, paired with other trust issues. In a diary entry she is stated to have possibly messaged Ukraine’s breasts, once again showing more unhealthy boundaries with attachments to loved ones. Someone taught her that. And Russia, who internalized his abusers, acted out his abuse on others as implied with Lithuania looking distressed dressed as a maid and Russia holding a whip. In another non canon game Himaura worked on, Bulgaria in the bad ending is shown tied up and naked implied to be whipped by Russia as Russia says this is “tradition” or possibly more routine implying this is something he does often.

The idea with dissociative disorders is that the repetitive trauma that happens has to be too much for the mind of that individual child in comparison to the culture they’re raised in, and it conflicts with getting their needs met. And to the countries, all of them know Russia has had a life with far more conflicts in his youth than most, and a great deal of pain.

2. Russia has General Winter (GW for short)

General Winter manifests when Russia is being attacked by other nations in order to defend him, or to be a tormentor to Russia himself (such as freezing him to death each Winter).

This is oddly similar to what is known as a persecutor alter. These alters have the goal in mind to protect the host or body, but they’re a bit misguided in how to do that. They might take on the form of an abuser, or something outside the body, this turns into being an Introject. I’ll post a link to more info on DID/OSDD at the end of the post. The educational videos playlist will have a video on alter roles.

Russia’s bosses often abused him, and if he had an alter like this it would make sense that it would take the form of a general, someone in power who feels so much bigger and stronger than him. A boss who can push him around and make him behave in a way that will avoid further trauma from the real abusers. Winter the season, being another tormenting force of the environment, is another abuser, and it makes sense GW would take that into his identity. Russia feels helpless to it. It is also worth noting that other nations who also had to deal with Harsh winters do not have General Winter as an ally. He only protects Russia.

It would also explain why General Winter protects Russia from others attacking him. He took the ideologies of his abusers to heart, so GW pushes people away and treats them like threats. He feels strong by holding power and fear over others and force. If I can be stronger, no one can hurt me or would dare try, this is the mentality.

I believe GW can manifest as he does because Russia has magic. It’s canon that Russia can do magic or has a strange magic of his own, so whose to say GW can’t utilize it too. Perhaps even to let himself manifest sometimes in his spirit like form. This is more a headcanon or idea though.

Russia himself however is shown to be very passive with his bosses. These are people who hold power over him that he can’t really run away from or fight. So his response is to faun or freeze. This is basically stated in the comics (picture below.) and it’s often that alters have a specific role. Russia’s would be to people please those who he can’t fight. Making General Winter’s job to defend from attack.

3. Russia is shown to dissociate

When he is told to do an impossible amount of work, he just straight up loses himself in a fantasy immediately to escape the reality of the situation. There are other instances too, some in his childhood directly, but this was the most overt. This is from To your Hearts content, Russia!

4. Russia Is Inconsistent

There are times when Russia feels very different from moment to moment.

He goes from open about himself to swiftly sadistic and cold. He has moments of childish behavior to moments of maturity. These, when combined with the rest of my points, are worth noting. He both wants to hurt (possibly destroy) the others, but also be liked by them?

You can’t destroy people and have them like you.

The baltic Trio who lived a substantial amount of time with him still are confused by his unpredictable behavior. Each encounter The Baltic’s have with Russia is marked by a fear of what he might do. And not having certainty, thus they say things without knowing if it’s safe or not.

Even to Lithuania, (Whom Russia often shows Vulnerability to, in moments like bloody Sunday and Sharing his dreams in Outsourcing Sequel)living with Russia feels a strange theme park where he never knew what to expect. Lithuania has been shown to be great in strategy and games of wit, and a commendable leader with great people skills, yet he only has a general idea of Russia’s behavior? He is seen advising Prussia and Moldova that Russia likes it when people laugh or cry easily (This being predictable to Russia and thus easier to navigate social situations with) so it’s not like Lithuania isn’t paying attention. Russia shows moments of vulnerability and his thought process in panels like Bloody Sunday, which is quite telling as to what he believes are his responsibilities, and how the world works.

Now the real question is “why is he like this?”

He only understands the world from the point of view of someone who still lives in the abuse and knows no other options. He never had anyone teach or show him different. His world is ruled by who is the strongest, and if you can obey the strong you won’t get hurt or discarded. “We don’t want children who can’t play nice,” sounds like something an abuser told him frequently in his youth.

Russia just doesn’t have a support system due to his strained relationships with everyone. So he keeps relying on old defense mechanisms, hence letting General Winter step in when something threatens his sense of safety.

Nearly Every time (at least that’s what I noticed) Russia is emotionally vulnerable to someone, he suddenly changes to be sadistic or scary. It successfully pushes the person away and Reestablishes the fear of Russia in the individual, returning him to a state of being feared and alone where none of the other countries can hurt him. Examples below.

France talking to Russia after meetings and asking him personal questions would result in Russia ending the conversation by scaring him with a scsry remark and aura suddenly.

Russia Comforting China after Japan turns on him, he is kind and compassionate at first, but suddenly changes at the end.

The Baltic Trio never knows what to expect. He frequently uses fear and force to keep them.

This behavior seems directly contradictory to wanting friends and having a warm and lively home. So GW still reacts with a trauma response, and Russia reacts in line with his wishes of making friends and having others around him. The Use of force and intimidation is naturally the middle ground between their wishes. Russia believes everyone is his friends, and doesn’t see how his behavior is pushing people away. Other times he seems to want friends to like him back, like when he sent France an anonymously written letter to his radio show. However he has wishes that contradict.

Now, I think he sees friends as people he can keep near him that he enjoys the company of. (This doesn’t need to be mutual or involve trust, just force) but those wants directly contradict.

I think GW is passively influencing him with some of the behavior rather than switching out right, but either option still would have the same effects. Passive influence is when an alter is close to the front, or feels/thinks something strong enough that it affects the person at the front. Making them behave in a way that is ooc for them, but not the other who intentionally or unintentionally influenced them.

This would explain sudden shifts to a cruel threatening position with other nations, something that will most likely always be a threat GW needs to defend against. He is particularly cold and defensive with anyone that has a chance to hurt him, (or tries to look into his psyche) regardless of if they made a move to do so.

More on passive influence can be found in the sources at the bottom under educational playlist.

5. Misc. Points of knowledge

Russia’s character originally was meant to be a cry baby, and only when he drinks, has a complete switch in personality. Frankly I’m glad he was changed to the complex guy we have now. However I think this concept wasn’t fully lost.

His character song, Winter, seems to talk of him experiencing freezing to death each Winter. Further adding to his repetitive trauma.

It is not unheard of for nations to have disorders and conditions. Australia has ADHD, Prussia is Albino, Lithuania has severe anxiety (and possibly PTSD), so who is to say a nation like Russia can’t have a dissociative disorder?

It is stated in one of Russia’s character bios that “General Winter is always with him”, however where? I don’t physically see him, but perhaps we can’t because he’s sharing a body with Russia.

In summary

Russia dissociates under stress

Russia has repetitive traumas and an ongoing history of abuse all his life

Russia has inconsistent behavior and attachments

General Winter could certainly be a separate personality and functions exactly like an introject/persecutor alter would to their host.

Russia acts out and damages relationships, acting in inconsistent ways that might play out his own abuse, and/or reflect his desires to keep others near him.

As a note, I actually have DID, so this could be my projecting, but please don’t yell at me about how I made a “villain” have DID and feed into evil alters and split Stareotypes. I would only like to raise interest and provide an example of what a misrepresented disorder can look like. And the links below are there if you want to make your mind up for yourself and educate yourself if this inspires your portrayal of him! This isn’t meant to be insensitive, I’ve been working on this post for months to word it as sensitive as I could while also acknowledging Russia is still responsible for his and GW’s actions. Saying he has DID isn’t to excuse it, just explain it.

Don’t erase his victims, but don’t erase that he also is one.

(This blog below was also really helpful, but this post covers a lot of Russia’s earlier trauma and his mentality)

https://ellawritesficssometimes.tumblr.com/post/175060886956

Research for DID and OSDD 1b below: (along with links to comics)

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLm56LzW0BA_P7-yL3rK7INZDDozTayJvJ

https://www.hetarchive.net/blog/tag/russia/

http://hetarchive.net/tag/russia/

http://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2013/10/11/blog-entry-1411/

https://hetalia.fandom.com/wiki/Russia

https://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2019/01/29/about-the-fact-that-russias-history-is-too-scary/

Below is for an example of dissociation:

http://www.hetarchive.net/blog/2019/02/28/to-your-hearts-content-russia/

https://youtu.be/ZV3ToVA5BqQ

https://did-research.org/origin/comorbid/dd/osdd_udd/index.html

#hetalia #hetalia world stars #aph #hws #aph lithuania #hws lithuania #hws russia #aph russia #hws ukraine #aph ukraine #hws belarus #tw sex assault #tw rape #tw abuse #tw child neglect #tw child grooming #tw childhood trauma #tw freezing #aph belarus #hetalia theory #my own thoughts #long reads

[ljf613]

Colonization & Imperialism in ATLA

One of the things I’ve noticed in fandom complaints about the ATLA comics-- namely, “The Promise”-- and subsequently, LOK’s worldbuilding, is the way the narrative handles colonization. 

I see a lot about how what the Earth Kingdom chose to do with the former colonies is “none of Zuko’s (or Aang’s) business.” (I also see people talking about how Katara would never support colonialism, in any shape or form, no matter the circumstances.) 

And I just.... don’t vibe with those ideas? At all? 

Like, I definitely have problems with the comics-- especially “The Promise,” where all the drama centers around Miscommunications of Epic Proportions and could have been resolved in Part One if all the characters just sat down and listened to each other (not to mention that Aang would never have agreed to make that promise, nor would Zuko have asked it of him (Sokka would be a more obvious choice, but that’s a different discussion))-- but I never had any issues with their worldbuilding. 

I love the idea of Yu Dao, and the fact that the narrative acknowledges that a new kind of world has new kinds of problems. It makes sense to me that we can’t always just “give back the land we took.” And I found the idea of the end solution being  “give the people who live there their own country” really cool and empowering. 

So I want to talk about why I feel this way. About what kind of real-world parallels can be made here. About some little-known bits of world-history that compare. 

(Please note that for this meta I am only going to be discussing the relationship between Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom. As far as I am aware-- and I could be wrong-- there is no real-world genocide quite comparible to what Sozin did to the Air Nomads, and most of the people alive in ATLA were not actually around for or involved in that. And the relationship the Fire Nation has with the Water Tribes-- and that the North and South have with each other-- is worth a whole separate analysis, and doesn’t deserve to just be shoved into this one.)

(Disclaimer: While this is in response to some of the interpretations I’ve seen on this site, it is not meant to discount or invalidate those fans’ views-- I’m just trying to show my take on it. I am a firm believer in the power of active discourse, and the value of looking at the same scenes through different lenses, rather than just getting one opinion and accepting it as Absolute Truth.) 

The main thing I notice in general ATLA discourse-- and not just on this topic, but in any sort of meta about the Fire Nation, colonization, and global impact-- is that the fandom mostly compares the war and its after-affects to real-world Imperialism, the Age of Imperialism, New Imperialism, and Colonization. 

And I understand why that is. In the grand scheme of world history, that era is still fairly recent, and we are still dealing with the afteraffects from it. It has shaped the Western World’s worldview on every level. (Not to mention that the Euro-centric way we’re taught history means that this piece of world history is the one we’re most exposed to, and so have the most understanding of and room to analyze/criticize.) 

However, there are a few issues with sticking only to this perspective. 

First off, the Age of Imperialism was a direct response to the Age of Exploration. This was the period of time when white Europeans sailed around the world acting as though they were discovering new places and pretending that there weren’t already existing civilizations there. 

[ID: Two dots meme, edited so that Guy A says “i’ve discovered a NEW WORLD,” Guy B replies “you didn’t discover ****,” and Guy A insists “i’ve discovered it” / End ID.] 

Now, I’ve mentioned this in passing, but the world of ATLA doesn’t appear to have had an Age of Exploration. There’s no vast “undiscovered” land masses, the four nations have always known about each other, and they all have a shared language. 

The whole foundation for the Age of Imperialism was “oh, look, there are all these ‘unexplored’ lands with resources ripe for the picking (who cares about the indigenous people, they’re just simplistic savages who don’t know what’s best for them), let’s see which European country can grab the most land first.” 

This was a race. This was sudden. This was Europeans coming in and taking over while viewing the natives as bothersome pests. This was about multiple major world powers competing over resources. 

This was not 100 years of active warfare between a single conquering country and the very people they were trying to conquer. 

The parallels don’t hold up. 

Secondly, by focussing only on this one kind of historical narrative, we ignore any others. 

I will admit that I have used the word “imperialism” in reference to the Fire Nation a time or two. However, upon further reflection, I realize I didn’t really mean imperialism, which is actually a fairly modern concept. What I feel the Fire Nation is really an example of is centralism and expansionism-- two ideaologies that have been a way of life for conquering empires throughout history. 

(I am in no way qualified to explain the differences between these concepts-- I recommend doing your own research if you’re curious.) 

The Persian Empire. The Greek Empire. The Roman Empire. The Byzantine Empire. The Mongolian Empire. The Russian Empire. The First French Empire. 

You could take any of these (or numerous others) and make an interesting analysis between the similarities and differences between their behaviors and that of the Fire Nation. And maybe I’ll do that someday. 

However, I started this to talk about Yu Dao and all of the other so-called colonies (I really feel like territories would be a better word, but, again, that’s a whole ’nother discussion), and I’d like to focus on that. 

FYI, here’s a basic history refresher: If two countries are at war, and then they decide to end the war, neither country is required to return captured territories. They can make a treaty and agree to do so, but there is no obligation to. The Fire Nation didn’t just march in and say, “this is our land now”-- they fought for it. They captured that land. Just because the war is over doesn’t mean they need to just give it back. 

Like it or not, that is the way the world operated for thousands of years, and so that is the interpretation I’m working with here. 

In any case, “The Promise” actually presents this as a three-way conversation. There’s Zuko (and, by default, the Fire Nation), Kuei (and, by default, Ba Sing Se and the Earth Kingdom), and the people of Yu Dao themselves. 

(My understanding of the Earth Kingdom’s style of government is that it’s made up of a large collection of different ethno-cultural regions who all answer to Ba Sing Se.) 

I’ll let Sokka explain it: 

[ID: Comic panel from Part Three of “The Promise.” Sokka and Katara are talking, both in obvious states of agitation, while Suki and Toph are looking at something in the background. Sokka is saying, “Let me see if I got this. The protestors and the Earth Kingdom Army want the colonials to go, the Fire Nation Army wants the colonials to stay, and the Yu Dao Resistance just want their city to be left alone?” Katara responds, “Yes!” / End ID.] 

The people of Yu Dao don’t care about the war. They don’t even really care who’s in charge. They just want to be left alone. 

This speaks to me on a very personal level, so I’m going to make another real-world comparison here: 

My ancestors first came to America to escape from the poverty and opression they were experiencing in a place known as “White Russia”-- that is, Belarus. To be clear, I am not talking about the country “Belarus,” but the region, which includes the modern-day countries of Lithuania, Ukraine, Belarus, Latvia and Moldova, as well as parts of Poland and Russia. 

I looked up White Russia, trying to find out how much information someone who didn’t grow up hearing stories about what it was like (that is, most of the people reading this,) might have. I didn’t find much. Most of what I found talked about political ideologies and such-- things that your average poor peasant, struggling just eke out a living, didn’t have much energy to care about. So let me paint a(n oversimplified) picture for you. 

Imagine you’re a poor shoemaker in a small town on the Russian border. You spend your days hard at work, trying to earn a living to support your wife and nine children. You’ve never left the town you were born in. One day you get the news: Russia and Poland are fighting again. Your two oldest sons (ages 15 and 17) are forcibly drafted off to fight in the Russian army; you never see them again and have no way of knowing if they’re dead or alive (they’re probably dead). Poland wins-- this time. Congratulations, your town is now part of Poland. 

Does suddenly being Polish make a difference to your life? Not in the slightest. Two or three years down the line, you’ll go back to being part of Russia again. This is the third or fourth time you’ve seen your town switch hands, and you can’t say you prefer one government over the other. It doesn’t really matter who’s in charge-- you’re still faced with crippling taxes, forced drafts, and various other forms of oppression. (It doesn’t help that you happen to be part of a persecuted minority.) 

(This is why I have many ancestors who may never have left the town they were born in, and yet records show that they were born in one country, got married in another, and died in a third.) 

This is the kind of worldview through which I am looking at Yu Dao. (Obviously, it’s not an exact parallel, but neither is the standard “colonizers vs oppressed natives” lens.) 

My ancestors eventually got fed up with the treatment they were receiving from their respective governments, and left to build a new life, in a new place. But the citizens of Yu Dao don’t have anywhere to go. The only two real world powers in this story are the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, neither of which has ever before expressed any true interest or concern in the actual people of Yu Dao. 

The Earth Kingdom didn’t really care about the city before the war-- they were just another poor, struggling town, whose citizens were barely able to make ends meet. And while the Fire Nation may have helped the place grow into a bustling town, they also established a hierarchy that did not serve in the citizens’ best interests. 

And so, in “The Promise,” these citizens’ frustrations come to a head. “Enough,” they say, “we don’t want to be used as a pawn in your games anymore.” 

And Zuko and Kuei (and Aang) actually listen. They say “we need to start thinking about these people as people, not as symbols of one side or the other. It’s time to give them a say in their future.” 

And a new country-- a new way of life-- is born. 

(Is it perfect? Absolutely not. But it is constantly evolving and changing, trying to do better, be better. And that’s more than you can say about most of the other countries in this world.)

#avatar the last airbender #avatar comics #the promise #meta #yu dao #fire lord zuko #fire nation #earth king kuei #earth kingdom #colonization #history lesson #imperialism #expansionism #centralism #real-world parallels #united republic of nations #thoughts #this is just my take #alternate opinions are valid #food for thought

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Outtake

I don’t know that I ever posted this here, but while I’m updating my AO3 with my old stuff (I’ve been pulling through my old files and clearing my backups).  

Inspired by @wolveswingstheives

“Ben?”  The man in question was pounding away at something on his laptop, frustratedly ignoring his mate’s calls.  “Ben?”  She tried again, though by now Ben was aware that she knew where he was.  She would hear the keyboard clicking, he knew that and expected to see her in a few minutes time.

“Oh, you’re still on about that?”  Porsche had run out of ideas, having tried to convince Ben to come to bed because for the past day he had been nearly unresponsive.   The most noise she had really heard out of him were growls.  “What has gotten you into this mood of yours?”

She knew some of what it was of course.  Ben had been set off by someone at “work”—the kind of work that involved fur and teeth.  She would be the first to admit that she wasn’t sure why he had decided to try and take real work home to deal with it.

“You know what I think?”  He snorted at her and continued to type away.  She leaned over his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him as she went.  “Hmm?”

“Not right now.”  Ben muttered, ignoring the soothing sensation he felt when she moved one arm to run a hand through his hair.  It was getting long again, though he’d started to try and keep it short (keeping up with the trouble Porsche was able to find for herself sometimes meant fighting without room to change).  She liked it best a this way. 

“I like your hair longer,”  She murmured in his ear, watching his hair slide between her fingers.  “You know why?”

His only response was a grunt.

“Gives me something to hold onto.”  He didn’t respond to her half-joke.  “Seriously?  You would feel so much better if you just came to bed and relaxed.”  Still nothing. One hand still knotted in his hair and the other arm laid across his chest, Porsche’s own hair draped over his shoulder as she trailed kisses up to his jaw.  He relaxed into her touch for only a moment before he realized what he was letting her do.  His shoulders stiffened again and he continued typing out whatever he was doing.

“Yes?”  She teased lightly.  He felt her smile against his jaw.  “Am I going to have to seduce you to get you to relax?”  

He finally turned to look at her as she pulled away.  His eyes betrayed everything she already knew.  

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like killing people for sport.”  He growled at her.  That kind of work, though it was normally her uncle for all intents and purposes who held that job.  Ben and Porsche had found themselves in the unusual responsibility only in that moment.  

“We should have stayed at the pack house tonight,”  She turned her whole body to face him, leaning back against the table top to look at him.  “You would have felt better.”

He made an angry noise and stood up to get away from her.  Porsche knew grabbing for him again would be stupid, it would probably derail him more.  

“You were protecting them,”  She reminded gently.  “Ben, you know what it’s like to be there, to deal with what they did.  You did the right thing.”

“I killed him.”

“He would have killed you without a second thought.”  He frowned at her.  “You want to come to bed?  I’ll let you be little spoon?”

He snorted and crossed into the kitchen to open the fridge.  The young woman actually followed him this time, watching him closely.  

“Ben, you killed a very bad man.”  She could be slow with this, break it down for him if he needed it dumbed down for him.  

“Porsche, if you haven’t noticed, you didn’t choose someone with a perfect track record—“

“You did not do what that man did.”  She cut him off firmly. “And he’s dead now.  Those girls know he can never hurt them again.”  That he could never hurt her again, but she wouldn’t admit that it still bothered her. “Come to bed.”

He frowned at her.

“If you won’t come to bed I’ll make you come to bed.”  She raised an eyebrow at him.  It had taken him until now to realize she was only wearing the silk robe she’d tied at her waist.  

“Tempting.”  He grumbled and she sighed melodramatically.  

“Ben, you’ll feel better.”  

“I don’t want to.”

“Oh, ok,”  Porsche snorted. A few messy strands of hair had fallen into her face again and she pushed them back.  “I’ll leave you to wallow in your misery.”  

“Did you know he was going to be there?”  Ben called after her as she made her way back to their upstairs bedroom.

“If I had known, I would have offered to stay home and babysit.”  She bit her lip.  “I didn’t mean to put you in a position where you had to see him.” Again, though she didn’t say it aloud.  “I should have ended that myself.  It was a long time ago, I should have been able to.”

“Only six years.”

“It was nothing.”  She frowned.

“Everyone deals with things on their own time.”  Ben reminded her, softening a little.  Her brother had stumbled into a problem that, on a larger scale, included a certain New Yorker no one was a particular fan of. 

“You did the right thing.”  She disappeared again and he let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding.  Porsche’s mind led her to believe that what Bodhan had been convicted of, he deserved the justice brought to him.  Ben wasn’t so entirely certain, though he agreed that the other man was absolutely the scum of the earth.  

He listened for her footsteps to stop, for the bed to creak above him, and sighed.  He knew she was right, he didn’t mean to fight with her.  Killing wasn’t Ben’s favourite passtime and Bzovsky’s track record sat a little too close to home on multiple accounts.  

His feet carried him to the bed of their own accord, though he couldn’t deny he was desperate for sleep.  Porsche was always there to save him from his dreams.

“Is the offer still open?”  He asked, startled by his own voice.  She sat up and took him in.  “To be little spoon?”

She cracked a grin and opened her arms.

“Come here you bumbling idiot.”  Though the sentence was thick with affection.  “I love you.”

“You heard what he said?”  Ben laid down beside her, letting himself finally relax into her touch.  He had made a mistake staying away again.  

“About me or about you?”

“All of it.”  He listened to her make a noise of agreement.  “He hurt you.”  It was like he was trying to convince himself of it first.

“He did,”  Porsche squeezed him tighter.  “You stayed with me to keep me safe from him.”

Ben didn’t say anything, just thought to himself.  He had done his research on Porsche’s former flame—if you wanted to call it that—after he had a run in with him that left Porsche cornered in a coffee shop.  Turns out, the dead man had come from Ukraine via some time spent in England, explaining why he had been able to scoop up dirt on Ben all those ages ago. 

It also made snide comments in a fight something harder for Ben to listen to.

“He’s good at finding other people’s weaknesses.”  She whispered, “And exploiting them.  That’s what he did to me.  Please don’t let him hurt you, too.”

She waited patiently, but her mate still didn’t make a comment.  

“I love you so much.”  She tried again.  “I should have done it, I’m sorry.  I should have jumped in the moment I saw him.  That was a bad call on my part.”

“Can we…can we talk about this in the morning?”  Ben spoke finally and her heart leapt.  “Really talk about it?  I need to gather my thoughts first.”

She tugged him closer to her and he took a deep breath.  Her scent surrounded him and he couldn’t lie that she was right about feeling better just being with someone.  

“I’ll be here if you need me.”  She promised firmly and he knew she was referencing his dreams.  If he had a nightmare, he knew Porsche would be there to help.  She always was.

He didn’t thank her because he knew that she didn’t need that.  She just wanted him comfortable and asleep.

And asleep he would be in a few moments.

#Mercy Thompson series #mercy thompson fanfiction

[thatsamericano]

She Tastes Like Apple Juice and Peach

Pairing: Nyo America/Nyo Romano. Mention of Nyo Romano/male OC, mention of nyo Ukraine/nyo Canada. Human AU. 

Rating/Warnings: Teen. Compulsory heterosexuality and internalized lesbophobia from the POV character. Mix of fluff and angst, with an ambiguously sad ending. (The pining is mutual, but they’re not ready to talk about it yet.)

Word Count: 2337

Summary: Amelia kisses Chiara when she’s just 14 as “practice” for her future boyfriend. Amelia doesn’t even know if she wants a boyfriend, but she also doesn’t know how to tell her best friend the truth.

A/N: Title from “She” by Dodie. I use “Yuri” as the name for nyo Ukraine, which I got from this post by @feynavaley. This fic will be up on AO3 soon.

Amelia was glad to catch up with Chiara, and glad that she actually got to hug her and speak to her in person. She couldn’t begrudge Kiki for spending time with her family in Italy, and it wasn’t like Amelia had been completely alone with nothing to do this summer. But she had missed her best friend, and it was nice to spend the night together eating junk food, watching TV, and enjoying each other’s company.

Amelia liked hearing about Chiara’s cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, but the one thing she could have done without hearing about was this boy Chiara had met. He lived in the house next door to her grandparents, and he was named Salvatore. Chiara’s eyes sparkled when she talked about how cute and nice Salvatore was, and her cheeks flushed a shade similar to the color of her ruffled rose pajama top. Amy smiled, but she felt a little queasy when she heard the name the special emphasis Chiara put on his name. Maybe she had eaten too much popcorn, or maybe it was the fact she’d never really felt like that about a boy. Gilbert and Magnus were her friends, but they were in the grade above her and treated her like a little sister. Tolys and Kiku were also fun to hang out with, but she never got butterflies around them, and definitely not like the overwhelming sensations Madeleine seemed to experience around her friend Yuri. Many times, Maddie blushed bright red as she shyly confided in her twin about something sweet Yuri had said or done. Amelia had never felt the urge to gush like that about anyone (except Chiara, which didn’t really count, since they were best friends and both girls).

Maybe it was like her dad had said, and Amelia was just a “late bloomer.” Or maybe she was weird for not getting crushes on people. She always felt strange whenever girls her age started talking about the guys they liked, because she never had anything to say. She felt strange now, because she couldn’t understand why Chiara was so impressed by stuff like Salvatore being a good soccer player. Amelia was good at lots of sports, including soccer. Even if he could beat her at soccer, she could probably kick his ass at baseball.

The bottom dropped out of her stomach when Chiara started talking about a date she and Salvatore had gone on. It wasn’t much, just a trip to the movies and a walk around town, but it was more romance than Amelia had ever experienced. That was why she had to hide her jealousy behind a fake smile.

Chiara giggled as she got near the end of her story. “And then when he was dropping me off at the house, Totò, he uhh… he kissed me.”

“He kissed you?” Amelia repeated. She was surprised, and her chest felt weirdly tight. Probably indigestion from all that popcorn.

Chiara nodded and tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. “He did. It was my first kiss ever.”

Amelia nibbled on her bottom lip and looked away. She hadn’t been kissed yet, and she was sad that her best friend had experienced something so life-changing without her. “Was it nice? Did it feel good?”

“It was okay, I guess?” When she glanced over, Chiara was frowning at the memory. “Honestly, it would’ve been a lot better if he hadn’t pulled away after two seconds and sneezed in my face.”

Amelia laughed. “He sneezed in your face?! Who the hell does that?”

Chiara tossed a pillow at her. “Shut up, idiota! It wasn’t his fault! He was allergic to my perfume!”

Amelia took several more seconds to calm down. “Still, that sounds horrible, Kiki. I’m sorry.”

“It was kinda gross,” Chiara admitted with a shrug. “The second kiss was better. I was wearing a different perfume then.”

So, Chiara had kissed this boy multiple times. Amelia hadn’t kissed anyone ever.

“So is he your boyfriend now, or…” Part of Amelia really didn’t want to hear the answer, but she felt obligated to ask.

Chiara sighed. “He lives in Palermo, so that wouldn’t really work. It was a summer fling, and it wasn’t meant to last. We had fun, but we’re both okay with it being over now.”

Amelia nodded, even though it didn’t make much sense to her. She didn’t think it was possible for Salvatore to get over someone as beautiful and amazing as Chiara. No boy would ever be able to.

“Well, while you were breaking boys’ hearts in Sicily, my summer was much more boring by comparison. Just the normal stuff you’re used to.”

Chiara chuckled and nudged her side. “So no torrid summer romances for you?”

“Nah. I guess guys don’t see me that way.” Amelia knew that was supposed to bother her. It bothered her mom, who had repeatedly told Amy that boys would never notice her if she kept acting like such a tomboy. But Amelia wasn’t even sure if she wanted boys to notice her. She wasn’t sure how she would react if they did.

Chiara rolled her eyes. “Boys are stupid. I wouldn’t waste too much time worrying about what they think.”

Amelia frowned and stared down at the toenails Chiara had painted for her earlier. “Easy for you to say. You’re super pretty, like a 14-year-old version of that famous Italian movie star whose name I can’t remember right now. And I’m just… well, me.” She was chubbier than a lot of girls her age, had metal braces on her teeth, and had to wear glasses if she wanted to see worth a damn. Amelia didn’t think she was ugly, but she didn’t think she was particularly pretty either, and that made her feel bad for reasons she didn’t entirely understand. Why did it matter how she looked when she wasn’t even sure if she wanted boys to notice her as an attractive young woman?

Unless she wanted girls to notice her as an attractive young woman. But that couldn’t be true, right? Amelia was straight. She had to be. There simply wasn’t any other option.

“Cara, you shouldn’t talk about yourself that way.” Chiara reached out and covered Amelia’s hand, which made Amelia turn to look at her in surprise. “You’re gorgeous. Anyone who can’t appreciate what’s right in front of them isn’t worth your time.”

Her voice was soft, and her hazel eyes were full of conviction. Amelia’s heart raced inside her chest, but she didn’t think she was having a heart attack or suffering from some kind of illness. It felt too wonderful and bewildering to be unhealthy. Was this how Maddie felt with Yuri?

Amelia grinned. “You think I’m gorgeous? Really?”

Chiara’s face turned red as she huffed and pulled her hand away. “I’m not blind, okay?! There’s no need to be so smug about it!” She wrapped her arms around her knees, clearly embarrassed, and Amelia wanted to hug her. Or something.

She opted for the hug. “I’m not smug. I’m just… really flattered. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, so you saying that I’m gorgeous is kind of a huge deal.”

“G… grazie.” Chiara sounded shy and flustered, which was adorable. God, the guy who got to be her boyfriend someday would be so lucky.

Amelia frowned. Ugh, there was that feeling again. That heavy, sinking feeling in her gut. She didn’t want to think about Kiki with a boyfriend. She didn’t want to imagine her best friend kissing a boy, touching him, talking about him with the same gleam in her eye she’d had when she spoke of the boy she kissed on vacation. Or maybe a brighter gleam because her boyfriend would mean more to her than a short summer romance.

Amelia let her arms fall away from Chiara and gave her the brightest smile she could. “It’s probably for the best. I don’t think I’m ready for the whole boyfriend thing anyway.” She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be ready for that. “Especially the kissing part. I wouldn’t know what to do if some guy tried to kiss me.” She’d probably freeze or run away.

“Well as long as you don’t sneeze in the guy’s face afterwards, you’ll be doing better than Salvatore.”

Amelia laughed. “True.”

Chiara looked nervous all of a sudden. She started playing with her hair. “I could show you, if you want.”

“Show me?”

“How to kiss people.”

“Oh. I mean, yeah? If that’s not too weird for you.” Amelia wondered if it should be weird for her. The idea of kissing Chiara didn’t feel weird at all.

Chiara smirked at her, nervousness apparently gone. “If it was too weird for me, I wouldn’t have offered, would I?”

“No, I guess not.” Amelia tilted her head towards her best friend and squinted in confusion. “Should I?”

“Just hold still.” Chiara cupped her face, leaned in, and connected their lips. Her stomach swooped like she was on a rollercoaster, and Amelia was too stunned to move or even close her eyes.

Chiara pulled away. “You’re tense. Just try to relax. Close your eyes and pretend I’m someone you want to kiss.”

Not a problem. Amelia nodded and closed her eyes, waiting for Chiara to kiss her again. This time she was prepared, and when she felt that swoop in her stomach, she sighed and parted her lips against Chiara’s mouth. Her mouth felt tingly and kind of staticky, but in a good way? She liked it. She liked kissing Chiara.

Chiara moved her lips hesitantly, and Amelia tried to copy her movements. Chiara’s tongue flicked over her lower lip, and Amelia let out a startled whimper. Chiara ripped her mouth away suddenly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I got caught up in the moment and took it too far. Dio, I never got close to kissing Salvatore like that…”

Amelia caught her flailing hands in her own. “It’s fine. I didn’t mind.”

“You didn’t mind. You didn’t mind that I almost French kissed you? Are you fucking insane?!”

Maybe she was. She had been disappointed that Chiara stopped, but Amelia couldn’t say that, could she?

“We were practicing,” Amelia claimed, ignoring how her gut churned with guilt. “It doesn’t count.” Amelia hated lying to her best friend, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Chiara’s eyes looked troubled. “No, I guess it doesn’t count. But if you start to feel uncomfortable, just tell me to stop.”

Amelia nodded. “Okay.” She didn’t think she’d want to stop Chiara, so the promise was unnecessary.

Chiara slowly began to lean in, and Amelia closed her eyes.

The kiss was warm, gentle, and sweet. The tingly feeling in Amelia’s lips returned instantly, along with the roller-coaster swooping in her stomach. Chiara’s tongue shyly entered her mouth, and Amelia could taste the apple juice she had earlier along with her peach-flavored lip gloss. Amelia idly wondered if she should have brushed her teeth first or maybe put on some kind of lip balm.

Chiara pulled away a few seconds later, flushed and panting for air. “That… that was…”

“You taste like apples and peaches,” Amelia told her, too stupefied to say anything else.

Chiara giggled. “You taste like popcorn and soda. I kinda liked it, though.”

“Do you think I need more practice?” Amelia asked. She tried to make sure her voice didn’t sound too hopeful.

“Probably not. There’s nothing wrong with the way you kiss. You just have to remember not to freeze up at the beginning, and you’ll do just fine.”

It was the best answer Amelia could have realistically expected, but she still felt keenly disappointed. There was an ache inside of her that hadn’t existed before.

Chiara snuggled into her side and turned her gaze towards the television, so it wasn’t all bad. Amelia put an arm loosely around her and pretended to watch the TV too. If she breathed in, she could smell the remnants of popcorn and candy, along with a hint of lemongrass and oranges. It was coming from Chiara, and it might have been the perfume Salvatore was allergic to. She chuckled softly at the thought.

Chiara yawned. “What’s so funny?”

“Guess we know I’m not allergic to your perfume. I didn’t sneeze on your face.”

Chiara snorted. “No. No, you didn’t.”

Amelia felt the urge to confess the truth, but she pursed her lips and kept silent for the next several minutes. Only when she felt Chiara’s body growing heavier and her breathing getting softer did she dare turn her head to look at her best friend.

Kiki’s chestnut hair was tousled up against her shoulder. Her eyes were closed, and her eyebrows were slightly arched. Her nose descended in a straight line, and her lips, full and reddened from just kissing Amelia, were parted slightly. She was by far the most beautiful thing Amelia had ever seen, and that ache inside her grew. She felt the butterflies everywhere, not just her stomach.

“I don’t think I want a boyfriend,” Amelia whispered, so quietly Chiara probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it even if she were awake. “I think I just want you, and I think maybe I always have. I know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay, as long as I still get to be your friend.”

Chiara frowned in her sleep. “Amore,” she mumbled, but didn’t say anything else. Amelia had no idea who she was talking to. Probably not Salvatore, since that was just a summer romance she had claimed to be over now. Perhaps, a silly part of her mind whispered, she meant Amelia. Perhaps their practice meant something to her too, and she didn’t want a boyfriend either.

Amelia let herself bask in that delusion until the program she was only half-watching was over. Then she turned off the TV, closed her eyes, leaned into her best friend she loved more than she was supposed to, and fell asleep.

#hetalia #romerica #nyo america #nyo romano #nyo south italy #fem america #fem romano #fem south italy #hws america #hws romano #hws south italy #aph america #aph romano #aph south italy #tw internalized lesbophobia #tw compulsory heterosexuality #hetalia fanfic #hetalia fanfiction #hws fanfic #hws fanfiction #aph fanfic #aph fanfiction #my writing #original post

[scribbling-stiks]

Retrievers - III- Safe Room

Russia is dragged back toward the house, and he finds himself nearly tripping over his own feet. His head whips around, trying to see anything that would catch his eye. At first, nothing. Then, motion catches his attention. He focuses on it and sees what looks like a long pole swishing by.

His stomach sinks.

Wind rushes through his ears, and the siren distorts. It's choppy and broken. And the volume seems to keep increasing. His ears begin to throb, but with both his hands full, he can't do much about it.

America dismisses his magic.

'What was that?'

America pulls him along to the back door.

"What's going on?" Russia shouts.

"We just need to get back inside!" America yells back.

Russia notes the panic in America's face and begins running faster. America pulls open the backdoor and pulls it closed as soon as Russia is inside.

"S***," America mutters under his breath.

The siren rings loudly from outside, and the inside of the house is eerily quiet.

"Where are the states?" Russia pants.

"They're probably trying to get into the safe room. Come on," America says, pulling Russia back to a small, almost unnoticeable door under the staircase.

America knocks a rhythm on it and after a moment, it opens to Dixie poking his head around the door, and a gun barrel pointed out the crack. As soon as Dixie recognizes them, he sighs.

"Amy?"

"Yeah?"

"We can't stay down here for long."

"What do you mean?"

"That... thing done f***ed up the HVAC outside. We ain't got no circulation."

"Are you guys okay?!"

"Yeah, for now. Nothing's comin' in, but we at least have the exhaust leavin'. "

"Okay. Russ and I will go out there and see if we can get it working again," America says, finally turning to Russia, "if that's okay with you."

Russia nods and tries to ignore the sirens swelling outside. It sounds wrong.

"Is this what your tornado sirens sound like?" Russia asks, following America through the still house.

His skin pricks up at the emptiness.

America shakes his head, "No. This is just as wrong as you think it is."

America begins digging through a toolbag, handing Russia a large wrench and a Philips head screwdriver.

"Come on," America says, "let's make this quick."

Russia nods and follows America to the back door. America slowly opens the door, and the wall of sound hits Russia right between the eyes. He takes a sharp intake of breath and realizes that America had already left the doorway.

Russia closes the door and hurries to America's side, holding the broken bottle out in front of him.

Russia's footsteps are careful, and he tries to make them quiet, but he honestly couldn't tell how loud he is being because all the noise remains obscured under the ringing.

Russia follows America around the outside wall to a choking air conditioning unit. Or at least, that's what it looked like. It whizzed and whirred loudly, shaking.

"S***," America curses, "that's not good."

America walks around it and shuts it off.

The siren gets closer and swells in volume.

'It's getting closer.'

America takes the screwdriver from Russia's hand and quickly starts to disassemble the outer cage and pulls the caging off. He then takes the wrench and hands the screwdriver and several large screws to Russia. Russia takes it without complaint, scanning around the house for signs of a threat.

The siren cuts off suddenly, and Russia is left with just the ringing and eerily, no other sounds but the wind.

America begins cursing under his breath and he yangs the last piece off. A blob of black falls outside the contraption. Russia sees it and freezes.

Russia almost throws broken glass at it, but stops, afraid he might hurt America instead. The glob doesn't move.

Russia sighs shakily, and America shoves his hands into the AC unit, digging slime out of the fan. His hands are stained black. America shoves his hands into the dirt and pieces the machine back together.

"Please. Please. Please," America mutters, plugging the huge electrical cord.

The siren becomes almost deafening.

The machine whirrs and sputters for a moment before the running sounds fade beneath the ringing. Russia sighs and America looks proud for a moment before the siren swells again, and panic hits Russia in the stomach.

America turns around and begins to run back to the back door and Russia follows with the dirt and slime-covered tools.

They make it back inside and Russia kicks the door shut. He leaves the bottle on the counter and he locks and barricades the door. He drops the dirty tools on the counter and turns to America, who was talking to Dixie.

Russia walks over and catches the tail-end of the conversation.

"-it's workin' now. Thanks," Dixie says.

"Okay. Here, close the door."

"Aren't you gonna come down here?"

"Not yet," America replies, "I gotta figure out what's going on first."

"Amy, I really don't think that's a good idea."

"I'll be back, okay?"

"Amyyyy..."

"I'll be fine, Dix, I promise."

Dixie sighs and closes the door.

America turns around and offers Russia a nervous look.

"What's going on?" Russia asks quietly.

"That....siren thing is uh... it's a warning. We think. We haven't seen it do anything other than making a lot of noise," America replies, "but afterward, it's not pretty."

Russia nods and finds himself staring at the pole-like legs swaying outside. And then he's struck with shame.

'If this is happening here, what's happening to my brother.'

"Meri?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to get my brother."

America spins around, a little surprised.

"..what?"

"I can't leave him out there," Russia explains, getting more frantic.

"I can't leave my kids here."

"But I thought you were going to help me?" Russia asks, his voice soft, and his heart racing.

"I..." America starts before trailing off.

"You were supposed to- you promised you would!"

"Well I can't, okay?!"

"What do you mean 'you can't'?!!"

"I have to be here! Stop being such an a** about this!" Ame

"I'm being an a**? I am?! What about you?!" Russia exclaims, "you told me you would help me!"

"I don't want my kids getting hurt! Can't you understand that?!"

"You attacked one of them!" Russia shouts breathlessly, and he ignores the stab of guilt that comes after finishing the statement.

"I was tricked!" America shouts back, tears in his eyes, "Why are you being such an a**hole?!"

"You lied to me!"

"I did not!"

"Then why did you tell me you would help me get my brother back only to do this?!"

"Well, I'm so-rry that I care more about my family!" America yells in a mocking tone.

Russia figures that he probably should've expected that, but it still hurt. It felt like a jab to the chest. He gasps and tries to ignore the growing pain.

"But-" Russia tries.

"I have to protect my kids," America says decisively, crossing his arms.

"But you said you would help me!" Russia exclaims, throwing his arms out in desperation.

"I'm not going to put my kids in danger!" America is screaming now, blue sparks flickering around his fingers.

"My brother is already in danger!"

"I don't care!" America screams, drowning out even the siren's wailing outside.

Russia freezes.

"I have to keep my family safe,"  America says quietly, tears in his eyes.

Russia backs up a step, and his heart cracks. He looks around for somewhere to escape to, tears dripping down his face.

Russia scowls and forces the tears back. He swipes at his cheeks and swallows back the lump in his throat.

"Fine," Russia mumbles.

Russia turns around and begins to walk toward the back door.

"...Rue?" America asks tentatively, reaching out a hand to touch Russia's shoulder.

Russia smacks it away with a snarl, trying to hide his hurt feelings.

"What? You don't care anyway," Russia sneers, "*f***ing b****.*"

Russia storms off, and out the backdoor. He feels too skittish to go far but decides that he wouldn't be able to stay inside.

The siren monster wails from somewhere nearby, but Russia finds that he doesn't care.

He walks around the house and stomps toward the glob that lay lifeless on the ground. He kicks it as hard as he can, and it hits the fence with a gross smack.

'I have to get Ukraine out of this.'

'But I-...'

'No, I... I can't leave Ukraine there without any help. Even if I don't get any help, I still have to go looking.'

'I promised.'

'America promised too.'

'Well, f*** him, f***ing lier.'

Russia finds himself waiting to see if America comes outside to look for him. He never does.

Russia sits down against the back wall of the house and covers his ears. Then, he feels water dripping onto his legs.

'Rain?'

He looks up to see a cloudy sky, but no rain. His surroundings blur.

'Oh. I'm crying.'

'I shouldn't be out here.'

Russia stands up and walks back to the house and walks back in. The door, he finds, is still unlocked. He relocks it and looks around.

'America?'

Russia searches the house, only to find empty rooms. He sniffles and wipes his face. Passing a mirror, he finds that his face is red and shiny with tears and his eyes are bloodshot.

He scowls at the reflection. Strange gurgling noises catch his attention down one of the hallways.

'I am not dealing with that right now.'

Russia walks to the doorway and knocks in a sloppy attempt to mimic America's knocking. It takes a moment before Delaware opens it and pulls him inside before closing the door. Russia's eyes remain locked on the floor and he retreats into a back corner of the small room. He sits there, tucked against stockpiles of food and water.

Russia hides from the others and tries to ignore the buzz of talking that registers in his head.

Russia's chest aches, but he doesn't do anything to remedy it but curl up tighter, facing away from the states, providences, and countries crowded into the room. And he tries to ignore Dixie's suspicious glances from the other side of the room where he's comforting a silently crying America.

'F***.'

The siren wails on, though muffles, it shakes the walls.

~

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#rusame #ch russia #ch america #statehumans #countryhumans