#be fucking civil and use some common sense

[eldritch-spouse]

You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.

You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.

“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”

You feel a tentacle around your ankles

[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]

TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.

It was a stupid idea.

You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.

You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.

You just wanted to escape.

And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.

You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.

It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...

Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.

Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.

You're going to die.

A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.

You don't want to die.

But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.

It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.

Finally.

You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.

If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?

You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.

Eh. You can stomach it...

God, you're starving.

One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.

You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?

Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?

Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.

You huddle closer to the small fire.

Alone.

But always so on edge.

Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.

The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!

The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.

Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?

Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?

Something stalking.

A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.

Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...

Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?

...

Just eat the fucking fish already.

Food.

Focus on the present.

The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?

You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.

You'll see.

Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.

It's... Well, it's sustenance.

It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.

This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.

A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.

You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.

Nothing.

Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.

Huh.

What the fuck is that thing?

Tall.

Two legs...

Arms?!

Shit- Could it be?!

That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.

Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.

That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.

" H- Hey... "

You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.

But you need to at least try, right?

The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.

With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!

" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "

Nothing.

There's no one.

But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?

No. Everything's wrong.

Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.

Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.

Why is this happening to you?

Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?

Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.

The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.

The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.

You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!

The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.

Yeah.

Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.

Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...

You almost wish you hadn't.

Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.

Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.

Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.

From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.

That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.

Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.

An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.

And yet, he just stares.

Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.

You stare back.

This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.

Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.

Odd.

Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.

And then, it makes this chitter.

Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.

They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...

They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.

Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.

The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.

Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.

Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.

In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.

Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.

He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.

When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.

" H- Hi? "

A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.

One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.

Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.

But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.

When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.

When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.

You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.

Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.

And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.

It was only a little flick.

But naturally, he felt it.

The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.

The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.

Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.

The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.

Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.

There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.

There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.

Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.

Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.

Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.

You should not have opened your mouth.

But you did.

And he visibly brightened up.

The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.

And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.

While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.

Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?

That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?

Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.

Instinct takes over.

Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.

And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.

It should not arouse you.

It should horrify you.

... But it doesn't.

Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?

Who knows anymore.

All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.

You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.

Then it appears to click.

You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.

And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.

He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.

Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?

Too many, probably.

Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?

Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.

Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.

And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.

He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.

No, literally.

The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.

You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.

Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.

He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.

Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.

He shouldn't be that far in you.

You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.

He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.

Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.

You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.

So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.

There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.

It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.

By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.

You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.

The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.

It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.

Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.

" ... Try putting one in. "

You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.

He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.

You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-

But a branch snaps in the distance.

And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.

His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.

In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.

Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!

Finally, people came looking for you!

The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.

Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.

You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.

His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...

And leaving your saviors in the dust.

#Sever oc #terato tag #monsterfucker #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster x reader #monster x you #minors dni #not sfw

[trans-girl-nausicaa]

Gee I wonder how common private gun ownership was right before the Russian revolution? Oh wait it was actually common and civilians could easily buy firearms. Here’s a print ad from the time:

Historically, many revolutions and civil wars involved the use of privately owned firearms. A really common pattern that you see going back hundreds of years is that at the outbreak of conflicts, civilians would form militias, arm themselves with whatever they could get their hands on, storm government armories, and then steal everything not nailed down.

During the Yugoslav civil war, the UN enacted an arms embargo on all sides of the war from Sept 1991 through the end of the war. The VRS split off from the JNA, so they just took those weapons with them. However, the ARBiH had to acquire weapons from a lot of different sources, such as:

Stolen from JNA barracks

Stolen from Yugoslav police

Taken out of museums (Yes, really. They were literally using vintage captured MG42s from WWII)

Handmade (!) (Yes, really. I saw handmade guns that were used in the war on display in a museum in Sarajevo)

Smuggled in by Pakistani Intelligence Services (Specifically anti-tank missiles)

Picture: A group of ARBiH soldiers at the Old Bridge in Mostar, June 1992. The man on the far right is carrying a Winchester Model 70 (captured from a Serb, who purchased it in Montana)

Picture: Two ARBiH soldiers, the one on the right is carrying an MG42.

Another conflict (or, more accurately, long series of conflicts) that we can also look to is the American Indian Wars. Native American combatants used a variety of weapons, but the weapons that they prized most highly were contemporary repeating rifles. Famously, repeating rifles such as the Henry lever-action rifle were contributing factors to the victory of Lakota and Cheyenne forces at the Battle of Little Bighorn in 1876. (Native Americans had been purchasing guns for hunting and combat for over a hundred years at that point. One of the earliest accounts of such a purchase was in 1750 where French traders traded flintlock muskets for horses from Wichitas and Comanches.)

Picture: The Apache military leader Geronimo, on right, accompanied by three younger warriors, 1886.

Let’s take another, ongoing example: The Myanmar civil war (2021- present, as of April 2024).

Fighters in the coalition of anti-junta forces use a wide variety of small arms, but most relevant for this post is the manufacturing and use of the FGC-9, a 9mm carbine compatible with Glock magazines.

(Side note: FGC stands for Fuck Gun Control.)

The FGC-9 design uses a combination of 3D-printed parts and easily-manufactured pressure-bearing metal parts.

Picture: a People’s Defense Force soldier carrying an FGC-9.

If you genuinely believe that there will be a revolution or civil war in your country in the future, then logically it is 100% reasonable to buy and train with guns right now.

If you genuinely believe that there will be a revolution or civil war in your country in the future, it makes absolutely no sense to hand-wave that away with “one day when the exact right circumstances emerge for a proletarian mass movement to Do Revolution, only then will we acquire even one single firearm. I’m just going to assume there won’t be massive obstacles such as arms embargoes, government crackdowns, or supply-chain issues that could completely stymie our ability to do that.”

If you genuinely believe that there will be a revolution or civil war in your country in the future wouldn’t it be better for the people on your side to already have some level of training & skill with firearms?

If you live in a country where the right wing has spent decades buying guns and salivating over the idea of starting a civil war and killing left-wingers and minorities, do you think it is a good idea to discourage left-wingers and minorities from buying guns?

#guns #gun control

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being condescending towards an asexual kid in GSA?

🙃🏳️‍🌈 to find later

Long post so buckle up.

I (17, they/it/he) am one of three co-leaders of my school’s GSA, along with R (18, she/her) and N (17, he/him). All three of us are openly bi, and I’m also openly trans and (most importantly) very loudly aromantic. We’re all in 12th grade now but we were leaders last year (in 11th grade) too. The school/GSA is small enough that all four grades (9–12, so around 13–18 years old) are in the same GSA, there’s no separate upper grade and lower grade groups. We also have two advisors, both cis queer teachers; and some younger queer faculty members also join sometimes for formal events. We take turns running events during club time, such as fun crafts or watching music videos. Sometimes we also do educational stuff or documentaries, including having teachers come in to facilitate discussions.

I’ve been planning (since early December) to run a two part series of discussions about asexuality and aromanticism (separate discussions of each). I really just wanted to do one day about aromanticism, but R said that if I did that, people would derail it and just talk about asexuality anyways, which both N and our advisors also agreed made sense. So, it’s two days, and the asexuality one is first so that the aromanticism one can be closer to Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week (ASAW).

There’s a girl in GSA, let’s call her A (16, she/her), who’s in 11th grade. She’s very socially awkward and if someone points out that she’s accidentally said something rude or offensive she’ll make a big deal out of not knowing and generally derail the conversation. Also, two years ago A made a ton of “jokes” about me and my little sibling (16MtF) being “secretly dating.” When I asked her (politely at first) to stop, she said she was just joking around, and kept doing it. I asked her again and also asked the theatre teacher and school counselor for help, and eventually she did stop. But A kept following me around and trying to be friends with me, and I was super uncomfortable to the point that I asked the school counselor to facilitate a conversation between A and I so that I could ask her to fucking stop. It somewhat worked. Now she still keeps trying to start conversations with me in the hallways and such, but I just brush her off or ignore her.

The one place I can’t do that is during GSA. Since I’m a leader, I have to be civil to everyone and actually talk to people (R, N, and I set norms at the start of the year during our planning meetings). A is asexual but not aromantic, and today she showed up like 5 minutes into lunch (cafeteria lines are annoying) and loudly asked if she was late. We weren’t doing anything in GSA today, just chilling. At some point during the meeting I announced casually that next week we’d be discussing asexuality, and then the week after that we’d talk about aromanticism, which leads nicely into ASAW during February break. When I said this, A immediately said that she would be extra ace that week [during ASAW]. I was like, “during aromantic spectrum awareness week?!?!” in the same tone of that “during pride month?!?!” meme. She looked like someone had just given her an F on the most important test of the year and said she hadn’t known.

I also made a comment about how there’s way more openly aspec people at our school than at most schools, and N said that maybe the presence of role models is part of that (clear subtext: he was referring to me). I said pretty loudly (more people could hear) that it was kinda funny that I’m the “ace role model” when I’m literally not asexual. A looked super lost and confused at this, and I think she might’ve thought I was ace, even though I’m super open about not being ace, and have told her directly more than once.

Here’s where the potential assholery comes into play. There’s an ad for PrEP that was fairly common on the back covers of theatre playbills in the past year. The ad shows a Black man dressed in ripped leggings with fishnets, shiny knee-length heeled leather boots, and some sort of white leather harness, doing a bridge pose with one leg extended upwards so that the “r” in PrEP is resting on the sole of the boot. The ad has a bright red background and text that says “you cast of PrEP options is changing” along with a small QR code and website link. The pose is somewhat provocative, but not out of place on a playbill for an all-ages show.

During GSA, A was saying that she thought the ad was bad, because of the leather being “fetish gear” and “weird” (basically the same arguments people use to say that gay people shouldn’t be allowed in public). I told A that there’s nothing wrong with someone wearing leather, and she said that “it’s fetish gear and that’s disgusting and degenerate and just bad advertising!”

I explained calmly, like I would to a child (although I probably wouldn’t talk about this topic with a child), that PrEP is a medicine that people take if they anticipate having sex with someone who’s HIV-positive, so it’s okay that the ad is somewhat suggestive. She seemed to accept that, but still said that the leather was weird, and the ad should’ve shown “a diverse group of people getting pills at a pharmacy” instead, because “fetish gear” was too much.

I asked if she thought that all leather clothing was inherently fetishistic, to which A said yes, and then I asked, “do you know that people can’t just choose fetishes?”

She hadn’t known that, but she still said the ad was too sexual. I pointed out that it was a fairly well-targeted advertisement, using theatre references, but maybe A was not part of the target demographic. I also said that sometimes outfits are just hot without there needing to be any fetishes involved, which she didn’t refute, and that even if it was a fetish, that wouldn’t make it inherently “bad” or “degenerate” at all.

A said that she still didn’t like it, and I told her that she was entitled to have whatever feelings she wanted to have, but that doesn’t mean the advertisement itself is a problem.

Another person (17, he/him) called out “[OP], what do you think about kink at pride?” in a sort of nonchalant way, so I walked over while saying “i’m pro–kink at pride.” The conversation eventually moved in other directions, and then club ended and we had to go to our next classes.

TL;DR: given my position of power and responsibility as a GSA leader, AITA for being kinda condescending towards an ace person who’s 2 years younger than me because she was being very sex-negative about an ad for PrEP?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Four

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Almost-car accident? Talk of getting smushed by a car.

Notes: Finally, a little something-something! I’m trying to post on the weekends to have some sort of schedule, but I have zero impulse control… so here it is a day early!

Word Count: 2146

Series Masterlist

• January 25th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Jasper

Not only am I lucky enough to spend lunch with Y/n, but some godly force must be watching out for me in that today’s history assignment allowed me to team up with her and learn more about her.

Her energy is absolutely fascinating and it almost worries me that I’m internally compelled to want to spend even more time in her presence. Two days and I’m already a goner, Emmett is going to have a field day interrogating me tonight.

Which leads me to now, after completing our history assignment with only a few minutes to spare, I’m escorting her to her car in an effort to prolong this addiction to her attention.

“Where are you from?” I ask, curious to know anything about her.

“Texas. Well, Dallas more specifically.” She’s still watching the ground as we walk, nervousness pouring from her.

“Why Forks? You couldn’t of picked a more completely opposite environment.” I miss my home state, and if it weren’t for my adversion to the sun - I would return.

“My parents divorced.” She continues before I could apologize for the intrusive question, “Happily divorced and I protested the whole ‘stay together until she graduates’ bullshit.” Fingers gesturing around the air quotations.

She trails off after that, circling back to our history assignment that no doubt has her still worked up. The Civil War, I cringe internally at today's topic since it’s a sore one for myself - having lived through it and fought in it.

“All I’m saying is, maybe history class should be more focused on the lessons learned, than just the events themselves.” She states rather passionately while inserting the key into the lock on the driver’s door of her car.

“To recognize and avoid in the future.” I respond, leaning my back against the rear of the small vehicle as I scan the wet parking lot packed with kids.

“Exactly!” She pops her head up, an excited smile in place as she garners my gaze again.

But just over her shoulder my eyes flick up to catch the sight of a blue van headed our direction a little too quickly for such a busy spot. A car horn blaring has her turning in its direction and the gasp I hear across the parking lot from Alice sends me into action. I grab Y/n by the waist and spin her against her car, so that my back might take the brunt of the hit, but it never comes as the rear of the van just barely slides past us. I relax the grip I have on her and tear my eyes from hers as I spin my head in the direction of the vehicle, ready to yell at the driver for being so reckless. The words die in my throat as I see where it’s headed - straight for Isabella Swan.

“Bella!” Y/n screams, but it’s lost in the screech of tires and the headphones in her ears that are keeping the outside world out.

Just as I’m about to damn us all to save another girl from this idiot driver, Edward flashes past to stop the van from crushing the Sheriff’s daughter.

“Fuck.” I whisper, glancing back to where my other adopted siblings are standing next to their own vehicles - faces unreadable, but emotions blaring alarm.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Please be safe getting home?” I ask her urgently as I peel my fingers from where they want to stay gripping her, safe and close to me.

“But Jas-“ she starts, a little shell shocked at my quick action of saving her and the close call with her friend.

A whistle from Emmett interrupts her before she can interrogate me, so I flash her an apologetic smile before jogging at a normal human pace to the familiar silver Jeep. My hands flex in my lap the entire tense ride home, warm and tingly from when I gripped Y/n to protect her fragile little human body.

If we weren’t vampires already, this family meeting about to take place would definitely give Carlisle a full head of gray hair.

• January 26th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Hey, mind catching me up on what that was yesterday?” I immediately bombard Jasper as I sit across from him at what I’ve mentally deemed ‘our table’ at lunch.

He glances up from his sketchbook with a look that says he wasn’t prepared for my blunt line of questioning.

“The saving you from certain death part, or?” He leaves open ended for me to clarify.

“The part where Bella was alone next to her truck, but your brother teleported to her side AND somehow the van skidded to a stop right before turning them both into pancakes?” I’m not pulling my punches with my queries, after having spent last night stewing over what I had seen.

“He wasn’t that far from her when I moved you out of the way, I must’ve distracted you enough that you didn’t see him walking to her after he got out of class. Plus, the van wasn’t going that fast, maybe when it hit the back of her truck the tires got traction and he could brake properly.” He answers, turning his gaze back to his sketch and resuming his work.

I don’t really buy it, but I mull over my recount of yesterday afternoon as I pull my lunch from my bag. Was I so focused on Jasper the moment he put his hands on me? Was I so soda-strawed in on Bella being in the way of the van that I missed Edward?

No, something isn’t adding up. I know that van was hauling ass in the parking lot, I was going to yell as much at the idiot driving before I saw it headed for Bella. But I can also tell I won’t be getting the answers I want from Jasper. I can tell from the rigidity of his spine that he’s worried I’ll ask more questions. I mean, his recount of the accident isn’t out-landish, but I know what I saw!

I need to talk to Bella.

“Yeah I guess that makes sense.” I acquiesce. I see him deflate a little with relief as I pick at my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Thank you for saving me, by the way.” I add nervously, a little heat working it’s way onto my cheeks.

Jasper glances up to my face and with a small smile, “Anytime Y/l/n, anytime.”

• January 27th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Bella!” I yell down the hallway, catching her as she slams her locker shut. I jog over to her as she turns towards the exit, everyone that has Mr. Banner for Biology is going on a field trip today.

“Hey Y/n, what’s up?” She questions, seeing the look on my face.

“Tuesday, parking lot, what the hell happened?” I jump right into it.

“Tyler must’ve lost traction-“

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. Edward was nowhere near you.” Cutting off her redirection. “Jasper won’t budge, he insists I was distracted and didn’t see his brother before the accident.”

Bella glances around the hallway and decides to pull me into the empty female bathroom for some privacy.

“Edward is avoiding me, I was asking him the same questions when I was at the hospital and he refused to answer.” She answers nervously.

“It’s weird, right? I mean, one second I’m unlocking the door to my car, and the next Jasper spins me around to protect my body with his. And then I see Edward jump over the tailgate of your truck when I thought Tyler’s van was going to end you.” I’m just rambling the thoughts that have been pinging around the last two days.

I can see her hesitate, “You can talk to me, you know? I kinda don’t have any friends besides you, I mean - if you want to be friends?” I tack on the last part, worried I’d over stepped.

“Yeah no, of course - I um, I could use a friend to vent to.” Bella glances down at her shoes, picking at the sleeves of her sweater as the both of us exit the bathroom. “He’s coming on today’s class trip, I’ll talk to him then and see what I can find out.”

“Perfect, want to sit with me on the bus?” I ask, walking out of the building for the student parking lot where the buses are waiting.

“As if I’d risk getting stuck sitting with Mike Newton, absolutely.” She jokes back. “I’m going to grab my book from my truck, I’ll be there in a sec - save us a seat!” She yells as she jogs to her vehicle across the parking lot.

As I board the first bus I can hear Mr Banner yell at everyone loitering in the parking lot, “Yo yo yo, hey guys c’mon! We gotta go, we gotta go! Green is what? Good, let’s go!”

A few moments later Bella joins me in our claimed seat, book in hand looking a little frazzled. I see Mike pass us with a forlorn expression on his face, “Oh God, what happened?” I ask.

“He asked me to prom and I told him to ask Jessica, please don’t make me talk about it.” She answers with what I assume is a shiver of discomfort.

I want to laugh, but I just grin instead. “Your not-so-secret admirer fumble is safe with me, Bells.” I knock my shoulder into hers to tease her a little as I crack open my own book I brought for the bus ride.

• Community College Greenhouse •

Reader

Walking alone in line through the greenhouse, my hands drift over the different sprouting vegetables. Behind me I can hear Mr. Banner giving a spiel on “compost tea” and how its derived from table scraps and other organic waste. Every now and then my fingers float over the soft petals of flowers placed sporadically through the hundreds of food-producing plants; earlier it was explained that they encourage pollinators to visit.

Even though I’m a smidge lonely since Bella is hanging back with Edward, I’m glad to be surrounded by greenery instead of stuck in a stuffy classroom.

Just as Tyler Crowley pushes past with a clear mug of what looks like poop/dirt water, I spot Alice just ahead standing to the side of the isle with Jasper to allow students to flow by. When I get within arms reach, Alice loops her elbow through mine, almost like she could sense my loneliness.

“So,” she drags out the word cheerfully, “Enjoying the plants? Fresh air? Freedom from school?”

“Oh absolutely,” I glance over my shoulder at Jasper following behind us silently. “I’m surprised you’re not off in a corner doodling flowers, Hale.” I catch him duck his head and chuckle under his breath as Alice watches our interaction, surprised.

“And isolate myself away from your commentary? Never, Y/l/n.”

“Oh, Emmett’s opinions on your drawings are too much, but mine aren’t?” I smile as I turn to look at new plants as we pass them in our slow walk through the final greenhouse.

“My brother isn’t nearly as interesting.” His response catches me off guard and if it weren’t for Alice’s grip on my arm I would’ve stumbled on the wet concrete.

“As I live and breathe, Jasper Hale flirting-“ but Alice doesn’t finish her sentence due to Jasper snaking out a pinch to her ribs, her flinch forcing our hold to separate. Before I could chide Alice for teasing her brother for just being nice, Edward storms up to the three of us.

“Ready to leave?” He glances between his siblings, pointedly ignoring me so that I wouldn’t feel the obligation to join them.

“Edward-“ Alice says disapprovingly, but he pushes past us without waiting for an answer. She looks at me apologetically before skipping after him.

“Sorry about my brother, he’s insufferable when he’s in a mood.” Jasper offers as explanation as we watch the two of them exit the greenhouse.

“I get the feeling he’s always in a ‘mood’.” My fingers emphasize the last word with air quotations and it draws another chuckle from the gorgeous boy at my side.

“Touché.” He says with a grin. “I better catch up before they ditch me, see ya around darlin’.” He weaves his way through the crowded isle and out of sight before the heat settles in my cheeks.

I manage to file outside and towards the buses with the rest of my class after I gather my wits. I spot Bella already in our shared bus seat with a sad expression. “Wanna talk about it?” I ask as I sit.

“Not right now.” She answers, turning to look out of the window.

Next

#twilight #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock hale #redamancy series #bless-my-demons #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper whitlock #female reader insert #jasper hale twilight #jasper hale x female!reader #slow burn #romance

[lilgoblinbitch]

I Wanna Be Yours 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Rick Grimes x fem!reader

Summary: you and rick find solace in one another and end up falling hard and fast, but you're unsure if he really feels the same way as you do...

Warnings: angst, suggestive themes, some cussing. 18+ only.

wc: 1554

It took years of improvement for you to become an ambitious woman with a mended heart, desperate yearning for freedom, and an opportunity to heal and start your own life, to finally assert yourself into the world — by moving to Atlanta.

You’d always dreamt of living in a big city and escaping the suburban hell you grew up in. After college you were in a decent amount of debt but you landed a decent job that paid well. Your — as of about a year and a half now — late fiancé had a job as a city zoning office worker in Atlanta. By the time the world went to shit you had been introduced to Jacqui, who was an earlier member of your group and met her demise at the CDC. You met her through your fiancée after discovering she had worked in the same department as him. Inevitably, you ended up hitching a ride with her to the quarry camp.

That’s how you met the very assertive and tenacious sheriff’s deputy Rick Grimes.

He was someone you could actually work with. Someone with common sense who always tried his absolute best to reason with people, because he believed that people get to come back. Civilization didn’t have to end from an apocalyptic world occupied by the living dead – no; humanity had gone through many apocalypses. There was still hope. Rick Grimes believed that, and he made you believe it, too.

And if anything, the world you lived in now helped you to grow and heal, because for the first time in your life you were actually surrounded by a group of people – family – who would do anything for you, who would fight for you and actually prove to you that you weren’t just a servant to people. You had a purpose like everyone else in this world. You were here because your group brought you back. You got to come back, like Rick said.

After his wife’s death, Rick became cold and hardened by the harsh realities of the world. But he came back. He always did; he was the strongest man you had ever met.

And you fell in love with him.

Little did you know, he felt the exact same way.

“How many more miles we got?”

Road trips like these were how you discovered your (seemingly) unrequited love for the sheriff. The comfort of silence and the gentle rumble of the car’s engine, and the steady noise of the tires sliding against the worn-down paved road… and to your left a very handsome man. His beard was coated with salt and pepper whiskers and his hair was always perfectly tousled back, his curls slightly dancing at the base of his skull as the car reached many halts and skimmed over fissures in the road. 

Rick’s hand shifted on the steering wheel, his other arm resting on the door beside him. He glanced at you for a moment, his hardened gaze softened as he rested his eyes on yours. Your stomach giggled nervously. His eyes were so fucking intense and he made you want to–

“About 10, more or less.” His voice was warm and raspy. Always so soothing to listen to. Hell, there were nights when you’d wish he would just talk to you just for the sake of talking, because honestly his voice was soothing enough to fall asleep to. And then there were nights where you wish he’d put his sexy, husky vocal cords to use and whisper filthy and forbidden words into your ear as his rough hands ever so gently slid down your torso further and further until you felt his fingertips reach–

“Hey, you doin’ alright?”

He had caught you dissociating, your eyes accidentally glued to his hands, which were now both gripping the steering wheel. The bulging veins in his arms popped out.

You sighed defeatedly. “‘M fine, just thinkin’ bout stuff…” You trailed off, eyes diverting to your calloused fingertips, picking at the dead skin that so desperately could benefit from a trip to the salon. You felt your cheeks heat up a bit out of embarrassment; did he know what you were thinking? Did he know how he made you feel? Part of you wished he did so that you wouldn’t have to go pretending and hiding anymore – you could finally have your answer and find some sort of comfort out of it.

But you hated rejection, too. You hated feeling unwanted or unloved. You hated feeling like a burden or just someone that could be walked all over – because that’s how you were treated most of your life.

God, you were so naive. Rick loved catching you staring. He loved seeing you flustered and affected by the attention he constantly threw at you. He loved testing your limits. In fact, this was his plan all along, to get you alone with him. Rick knew you, at the very least, were interested in him. He was very confident in this. But you were so focused on your own thoughts and actions when you were around him that you barely ever noticed the many times he’d catch himself staring at you for longer than he wanted to admit. You were just so beautiful, and so graceful, and so, so fucking caring. Even the way you constantly watched over his boy like he was your own, or rocked his baby girl to sleep after he came back from runs drenched in sweat and drained of energy. He never met a woman like you. Lori could never compare to you; you would never cheat on Rick, or have any other man’s baby. You were so dutiful and thoughtful, and always put others before yourself, and you were always there for Rick when he needed someone to just listen to him. 

He wanted you. Maybe even more than you wanted him.

Abruptly, Rick halted the car to a stop on the side of the road, pulling you out of your pensive state of mind. He swiftly shifted the gear into park, and dropped his hands to his lap. You gulped, anticipating his next move. Tucking your hair back behind your ears, you faced him, mirroring his motions. His eyes were already boring into you, as if he was reading your deepest thoughts. 

You still had around 5 miles to go, but that didn’t seem to bother him at all, judging by the way his focus never left you. You bit your lip nervously, then asked, “Why are we stopped?”

His eyes left yours for a moment, lifting his left hand to drag it through his hair. He let out a small sigh and turned back to face you, licking his lips. “Look, I uh…” He started, but struggled to find his words. You knew something was wrong, so you instinctively reached out to his arm and traced your thumb up and down – a soothing technique that always seemed to work on him. 

Your pleading eyes searched his own. “Is everything okay? You know you can tell me anything…”

Looking into your eyes was all he needed to gather himself. His other hand fell over yours, caressing it and sending shivers throughout your whole body. This was his moment. Your moment. His hand lifted up to your cheek now, and he stared into your eyes one last time before slowly leaning in, closer and closer, until your noses touched. Your heart was practically begging to burst out of your chest. But that didn’t bother you at all, and you finally decided to close the gap between you two and meet your lips with his. 

The kiss was perfect, everything you’ve been waiting for. You waited so long for this, and so did Rick. Fuck, you needed this, and more.

His needy tongue slipped past yours without a fight; no password needed to enter when it came to this man. Your soft hands dug into his brown locks as his now gripped at your waist, signaling for you to plop down onto his lap. You obliged; anything to get closer to him. You whimpered into his mouth, and he grumbled lowly in response. The kiss was desperate, like you were both desert roses fiending for a nourishing rainstorm. 

After a while you pulled away, breathing heavily. His hot breath fanning your neck, now making you impossibly needy for more of his touch. His hands tenderly hugged your sides, and once again his eyes met your frantic ones. 

He spoke your name like it was holy, like you were his God. He said it so carefully, it melted your heart. “I love you…”

You opened your mouth to respond, choking on your words. You didn’t believe it; it was almost like a dream. Your brain was on autopilot, and it felt like your soul disconnected from your body at that moment. This man was otherworldly in the way he made you feel.

“I love you, Rick…” You finally found the words that fit his own like a puzzle piece. You fit him like a puzzle piece. “You don’t know how long I wanted–”

“I know, baby,” His hands held your face close to him while you rested yours on his chest, which fell up and down with each gentle breath. “I’ve waited so long, but now I finally have you.”

#the walking dead #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #the ones who live #twd #twd towl #goblin writes #rick grimes x you #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes season 4 #rick grimes fanfic #rick grimes fanfiction #twd x you #twd x reader #twd imagine #rick grimes angst #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x fem!reader #twd fluff #twd fanfic

[radqueer-takes]

Alright, Hello Radqueer takes and everyone here, I already know this is going to be a "spicy" take, so if you're afraid of getting your mouth burned then leave. This will also be quite lengthy AND venty so yeaaah. Trigger warning ahead. This is going to be about my opinion on being TransID "for fun". This will NOT be talking about people who Kin for fun (KFF). They are not the Issue.

I really don't get people say they identify as certain transIDs "for fun". Like, at all? I know for a fact you cannot do that for other identities. Heres an example of that. You wouldn't say you identify as gay "for fun" now would you? You would absolutely get clowned on if you did. Heres another one. You wouldn't say you're autistic "for fun" now would you? Not only would you get clowned on for it, you ABSOLUTLEY would get into a long bout of harassment and drama for that. If you agree on my statements here but justify saying you're any transID "for fun", I'm sorry to say but You CANNOT pick and choose. You saw how it would look if you were to replace the former with the latter, So why would one do the same for TransIDs? It just seems disrespectful to those who actually take their identity seriously, dysphoric or not. Call me an "oppressor feeder" or an "identity cop" or whatever you people use to demonize me but I feel like its basic common sense to take your identities and stances seriously. Hell, The people that'll complain about this would take their stance on It seriously. It should be basic common sense to take your TransIDs seriously, especially if its something like transabled or transharmful/hateful. Both which being Labels which I use.

Speaking of transharmful/hateful, I'm gonna open up Pandora's box here, I deal with a involuntary and unwanted connection to the transnzi label. I keep having intrusive thoughts about it and feeling this god awful sort of like 'phantom uniform' that make me feel like absolute shit for at least ten minutes. The brain keeps making fucking references to it at least once every day. In the more worse episodes of this shit I can't view anything that looks remotely like that flag without my brain freaking out. Worst part is that's one of my main negitive triggers, so yay /sarc. I know someone'll say I'm joking, and I'll just say I fucking wish I was joking. What dose this relate to this though? I saw that Someone was, lack of a better word, insane enough to identify with transnzi for fun. for fucking "fun" like it was all apart of some sick game. Now listen I get not judging somebody for identities but HOLY SHIT that fucking punched me in the face. I am very grateful that transIDs exist /gen, they have helped me identify atypical dysphoria without using A**som*is (censored due to recent drama) which don't have a lot of public -harmful/-hateful labels, but I'm willing to bet that one of the reasons they made A**som*i in the first place is because they see us as the same thing. People who don't take their identities seriously, And in their minds, that counts as a form disrespect to those who do.

TDLR: I'm not forcing you, but take your identities seriously.

!

Disclaimer. The owners of this blog may not agree with the opinions submitted. Remain civil in the notes, please & thank you.

#<🕸> speaking #pro radqueer #pro rq 🌈🍓 #radqueer #radqueer community #radqueer safe #rq community #rq safe #rq 🌈🍓 #rqc🌈🍓

[definesanity]

Bite Me (Taken Literally)

'What the fuck?'

Uzi had no filter, and never had. She forgot to install that update. But thank Robo-God she did.

Because she was dumbfounded.

She was the weird kid, the one who nobody liked; heck, she's pretty sure half her class doesn't even know she exists, let alone knows her name.

Which was why she was befuddled at a letter in her locker, asking her to visit a certain location.

Uzi had common sense, despite what many say. And so she used it. And deicided to always have her flight reflexes ready, no matter what happens.

Arriving, there was... nothing. Of note. It was just a regular cabin, much smaller than the ones in camp she's been wanting to visit.

She then heard... something. A noise would describe it, given she couldn't pinpoint it. And it came from a bed. Because of course there's a bed. Why wouldn't there be a bed?

Uzi slowly walked up the bed, thinking on what she'll find; maybe a dead Drone? A human? Heck, anything will do...

Pulling it back... to nothing. Just a bed.

"Huh. Maybe I am a bit paranoid..." she muttered to herself, and turned around to face the most horrific thing she's ever seen.

"JUMPSCARE." the thing wearing the skin ('Holy shit it's a human girl fused with a Disassembley Drone?!') announced, as it tackled Uzi on to the bed, arms pinned via weird tendrils.

The girl gazed down at her, her tongue hanging out of her mouth as two golden Xs shown amid the dark void of where eyes should be. "SMUG LAUGH. SLOW REACTION TIME THERE, BUDDY."

"Screw you!" Uzi attempted to kick the girl, but her legs were pinned down. The girl crawled on to her.

And without warning, bit her neck like a vampire.

Code flew past her eyes at a speed she couldn't understand, and then, it was gone. Leaving only Uzi and the girl.

"Who the hell are you?!" the self-proclaimed angsty teen demanded, with the Disassembley Drone/Human thing looking back. Being honest, she felt braver than she should be.

"MM. I AM THE SOLVER O-O-OF THE ABSOLUTE FABRIC. THE VESSEL IS TESSA. SHE WAS A GOOD FRIEND, UNTIL. WHIMSICAL SIGH. SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO SEE IT, BUT, WELL. HERE WE ARE."

"You killed a child?!" Uzi shook her head, looking at Tessa. "Okay, sure, yeah, but still, really?! ...Wait, you're the thing that was--hold on, what the heck did you inject me with?!"

Tessa only giggled, as the tendrils went from Uzi's arms and legs and allowed Uzi to move.

"YOU WILL SEE, SOON. EVIL, LAUGHTER."

And then, she was gone.

"What the fuck?"

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

"Sheesh, who looked at you wrong today?" V commented later on, as Uzi sat on the ship's chair looking sullen.

"Bite me." Uzi shot back, doing her hardest to sketch the thing. She also did eleven different scans of her software and hardware, and even her circuitry, but couldn't find anything amiss.

"Rude." V leaned back in her chair, looking around. "Where's N?"

"You tell me." she had started to draw the thing's ribbon, next, being done with the head.

"Hunting, then. I feel sorry for the guy, doesn't know what he's missing."

"Missing what, having to listen to you?" Uzi had started to draw the Xs.

"Chatting with you."

The Worker Drone stopped. She blinked, looking at V. "Say what."

"Exactly! For a Worker Drone, anyways, you're actually interesting. Not every day that happens. Or ever."

Uzi replied by not replying, going back to drawing.

"What are you even doing?"

"Got attacked, drawing the attacker, if the court was still here that would be wonderful."

"Really? Court?"

"Hey, before you lot came we had a civilization; never saw it myself, but some of my Dad's friends talked about how one of them tried to win a divorce case. It was really boring, the way he told it, but I was a kid who had nothing better to so than look through the Internet, so I listened for the full three hours.

"What what did I get? A headache, someone's life story, and wishing we could have court again so I could disown my dad." Uzi finished her story with a loud sigh, opening her eyes.

V was looking at her with muted surprise. "...Got any other stories?"

"Wha--You're interested?"

"Hey, anything is better than sitting on my ass doing nothing. Speaking of, did you know that--?"

"--There is a setting that makes our bodies more human? Yes, I do, and I shudder to imagine what was going through their minds while making us."

She finally finished putting the last details on the sketch. "Okay, finally done. If you see this girl, tell I don't exist."

She presented the drawing to V, who blinked at it, and an emotion flew past her face. Then, it was gone, and V nodded. "Eh, fine. Anyways, stories, please."

"Ugh, fine. What do you want."

"Ever killed someone?"

"No, but I have committed several acts of violence against my classmates."

"Kinda hot." V said it with such a straight face Uzi had to pause. Then, what she said hit her.

"...I'm gonna... get some fresh air." Uzi started to get up and move towards the hatch, but a hand grabbed her arm.

"What, sick of lil' ol' me?"

Uzi just rolled her eyes (as best as she could, anyways) and left.

None saw the code flashing by V's visor, or how V's eyes softened looking at Uzi.

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

Lunch time arrived, and Uzi sat by herself. Not solely because she was a loner (that was one half of the reason), but because she preferred it.

Unfortunately, a hand touched her shoulder, and Uzi felt her solitude ending.

"Heya, um..." of all the people, Uzi had Lizzy had the bottom of her list. "...Uzi, right?"

"...Yes...?" tread carefully, who knows what she wants...

"Oh, I was right then, good; hey, listen, could I borrow you for a sec? Cool, thanks!"

"Woah--hey, what the hell?!" Uzi was then dragged away, her not giving an answer but Lizzy answered for her.

Through the corridors the two walked and walked (or, in Uzi's case, dragged and dragged), when the two ended up in Lizzy's dorm (she thinks it is. She could have been dragged into an empty one). Her arm was let go of.

"So. Uzi. Gotta be honest, I like your style."

"...Sty...? What, my clothes?"

"Yes, your clothes!" Lizzy rolled her eyes, walking ahead of Uzi. "Love the goth look, by the way. Gives you an approachable look, and makes people wonder if you're actually a softie underneath that cold exterior."

"...Where is this going." Uzi was not annoyed, just short of patience. "Is this about prom? It's about prom, isn't it?"

"Duh! I could go the classic, popular girl look but, let's be honest, it gets stale. Soooooooo me and Doll were trying to find new ideas and, well, here you are!"

"...Okaaaaay... where is Doll, anyways?"

["Hey."]

Uzi near enough punched Doll in the face, only for the Russian Drone to catch it.

That time, Uzi did see the code flying past her visor, and was able to catch some of it:

'OVERRIDE_ACTIVE'

'CONTACT=TRUE: BYPASS DEFENSES'

"...Byyyyyyyyyeeeeeeee."

Uzi wisely sprinted away, taking her as fast as her little legs can carry her, which was into her room.

--------

She breathed a sigh of relief, and fell on to the lower end of her bed.

Then jumped further up, as the thing licked her face.

"You again?!"

"SAD LOOK. DID YOU, NOT MISS ME, UZI?" Tessa attempted to look sad, but failed due to the lack of motor functions. In better light, Uzi can see just how grafted the girl was on to the Worker Drone, and she held back on vomiting for the time being.

"Well, I can get answers! Just... first things first, what the hell is your relationship with my mom?!"

"AH, NORI. SHE WAS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE HOSTS. SHE IS DEAD NOW, UNFORTUNATELY. BUT, REALLY, WHAT CAN YOU DO?" The AbsoluteSolver shrugged, looking less than sorry.

"...You motherfucker...!" Uzi felt angry, and rightfully so, but she held back due to the thing having the advantage, given its ability to make holograms.

"OOPSIE-DAISY."

This could not get worse.

"Heya, Uzi!"

IT CAN GET WORSE IT CAN GET WORSE IT CAN GET SO MUCH WORSE--

"Sorry about that, I was just fixing up a door! Heh, you know what they sa--" Khan cut himself off, looking at the scene in front of him: Uzi on her bed, with a fleshy-looking thing on top of her. "...U-Uzi--?"

"IT'S A PUPPY!" Uzi screamed out.

"...W-What?"

"...Y-Yeah! Turns out um, humans kinda... made up what they looked like, yeah! Sure they're... kinda weird looking, but they're adorable, in their own... creepy. Fleshy. Way. Er. Yeah!"

"...I see!" Khan believed her. Somehow. "Well, take care of them, Uzi!"

She waited until the door was closed, and let out a huge sigh of relief.

She glared at the Solver. "You're going to tell me everything I want to know. Got it?"

"AFFIRMATIVE SMILE."

"ALSO, WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT, ME BEING CUTE?"

"Screw off. Now, answer me. What the fuck did you inject me with?!"

"DO YOU LIKE IT? I MADE IT MYSELF."

"Can't answer that if you don't tell me what it even does!"

"AN ANTITHESIS TO YOUR SOLITUDE. AN ANSWER TO YOUR LONELINESS."

"I'm not lonely, excuse you! I have N!"

"EYE ROLL. SURE. IT OVERRIDES DRONES TO FEEL CARING TO YOU. I." Tessa looked sheepish, as weird as it sounds. "WENT EXCESSIVE BY ACCIDENT. CONSIDER IT AN APOLOGY FOR KILLING NORI."

"Pretty shit apology, not gonna lie." came the dry reply. Uzi got off the bed and stood up, looking at the corpse. "But why me?"

"..." silence only came from the thing.

"...I'm gonna leave. Come on, I'll take you for a walk or whatever it is they do."

"GET ZIP BOMBED."

As soon as Tessa said that, Uzi had a zip file open on how to care for a puppy.

...Ugh, she's in for it now, isn't she...?

#ryuusei's works #murder drones #md uzi #uzi doorman #tessa james elliot #murder drones tessa #md cyn #absolute solver #md lizzy #md doll

[anghraine]

“What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr Darcy!”

“It ought to be good,” he replied, “it has been the work of many generations.”

“And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books.”

“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these.”

This conversation is intriguing because, as is often the case in P&P, there is so little narrative framing or comment that you have to make quite a few assumptions based on how you read the characters. We don’t even hear Elizabeth’s reaction to this interchange and don’t know how she takes it (though when Darcy later tries to talk to her about books, she’s sure that their tastes are so wildly different that they won’t have anything to talk about).

In any case, both fans and critics have come away with a lot of different interpretations of Darcy’s book-buying sprees and, in particular, what he means by “such days as these.”

I just read an article that dismissively characterized it as a stuffy civilization-is-falling-down-around-us-in-these-degenerate-times thing showing the basic conservatism of his mindset, and while that article was particularly hostile, it’s a pretty common reading. And you can read it that way, but frankly, it doesn’t seem the most natural reading in the context of either the scene or his overall characterization.

Darcy is repeatedly associated with books and reading and general intellectualism. The Pemberley library links his family pride and his sense of legacy with his personal inclinations—as an individual, he’s bookish, clever, and fairly cerebral. He reads, he buys new books, he enjoys philosophical debates, his response to Elizabeth’s assertion of their different tastes in books is “cool, then we can argue about them :D”, he encourages his teenage sister’s artistic interests and defends her disciplined approach to them when she’s not even there, he collects fine and apparently borderline-incomprehensible paintings, he’s dismissive about the expected accomplishments of upper-class women in favor of reading (partly bc Elizabeth has been reading, but it’s not surprising that a man responsible from age 23 for the education of a young girl has Thoughts on the ongoing female education debates of the time).

All of this is to say that Darcy is engaged with what was then contemporary culture and discourse. This is especially the case if you go with the time of his creation, 1796, but it doesn’t make a huge difference because these debates were still ongoing in the 1810s, and he rarely refers to specific figures and instead prefers more generally familiar concepts and arguments (or chooses to rely on those in conversation with women), and in any case, the English artistic movements of the 1810s owed a lot to those of the late eighteenth century.

And a big eighteenth-century debate was about the merits of modern art, especially literature, compared to ancient art. Historically, there was a lot of deference in English literature to ancient models and dictates, and controversy over newer forms like the novel (in English) but also in poetry and drama and essays. To some people, it seemed like art was going horribly astray by diverging from the ancients (despite the continuing strong influence of Classicism). Others thought the artistic movements of the time were fucking awesome valuable and important, which is generally Austen’s position (most famously in the defense of the novel in NA).

So when Darcy speaks of “such days as these,” I don’t think this is coming from snooty disengagement from the current literary zeitgeist, but rather, the reverse. He’s seeing all these ideas being hotly debated in various essays and treatises, and the English novel taking modern form, and poetry undergoing changes that will only become more drastic, etc etc, and thinks—this is important. Anybody with a family library should be adding the literature that’s coming out at this time.

TL;DR I think Darcy has an affinity for modern art/literature/culture in any case, but also, is so convinced of the importance of the literary “moment” he’s living in that he thinks he’d basically be shaming his ancestors if he didn’t include it in the collection that he’ll pass down to the next generation as it was passed to him.

#it's not just that people like him need to maintain family libraries with what's currently out there #but that he thinks that what's happening /right now/ is a really big deal that needs to be added for its own sake #i find it a bit weird that this reading seems unusual but some people are very committed to stuffy conservative darcy so #i do go with the c. 1796 setting which makes this fairly funny... lyrical ballads is coming out in two years #and darcy can't know that! it's just. something is going on! clearly! what is the point of being rich if you don't preserve this stuff??? #anghraine babbles #austen blogging #austen fanwank #lady anne blogging #anghraine's meta #fitzwilliam darcy #pride and prejudice #jane austen #tangentially: this is kind of associated in my head with how the preceding darcy-like characters are pretty much all 18th century #elizabeth has this whole beatrice/rosalind legacy and the debt to much ado about nothing is obvious #but darcy isn't like benedick. he's like... lord orville if he were interesting. #so he's a fairly distinctly /modern/ man in the original context where he's often now seen as a quintessential/old-fashioned figure #and it makes sense that he would have a lot of affinity with modern culture where elizabeth is more detached

[inklessletter]

Threatening to report minors for interacting with your public, non-functionally-age gated blog is a fucking joke and it is report abuse. Your blog is public, minors are probably viewing it right now. What is wrong with you?

Hi Anon. I was just about to reply the same way I did to the other anon that actually insulted me so gratuitously, because, seriously, just by the tone alone you might as well deserve it. But I am civil, because I see that there is a genuine lack of understanding of that rule, so I'm going to explain this one to you (though I don't have to, Anon, you should already know this, it's common sense, but I get that you may just not be aware).

Firstly, my blog is public because, if you cared to scroll down for half a minute, you'd have seen that I don't aim to post or reblog +18 stuff, and when I do post content that might be sensitive, I rate the post as Mature, so there's no need of a warning for the whole blog, it's just silly. I am careful like that, even though I have never posted anything explicit whatsoever. But I don't know if I'm going to come across an explicit post that it's so good that it deserves a reblog, or post something explicit myself (that, as I say, I would rate it as I should, and always respecting this site's ground rules), and those are the post I'm warning minors about, not the whole blog.

Secondly, (and this is where I think most people get lost in this issue) about the minors dni thing, you should keep in mind a simple thing: when OPs say "MINORS DNI" they are not protecting minors, they're protecting their blogs, their creations, and above all, themselves. No OP of age with the minors dni warning in their blogs sets this rule for the kicks, if we make a +18 post and allow comments or reblogs from clear minors this could be a potentially serious problem depending on the country or the laws that they apply to that. It is that simple. It's for our own protection. (Besides, some people just don't want minors interacting with their blog/posts, and that's okay).

And before someone goes like "how could you say that you're protecting your blog and not what kids see!!", I'm going to tell them (and I think I might be speaking for many of us here) that I am not responsible for monitoring what minors consume or don't consume on the internet, unless they're my kids. It's their parent's/tutor's/people who are responsible for them, not me. And believe me that I don't mean this in a rude way, but it is simply not my problem.

I have no issue whatsoever with minors interacting in non-rated posts, everyone is welcome here, that is actually the first rule of this house. That this is a safe place, and I think I can't stress this enough. What I am asking is for you to understand that I, as responsible for this blog, draw a line on minors interacting in rated/+18 post, either mine or something I reblog, under the consequence of being potentially blocked and/or reported. I have the right to do both blocking and reporting people that don't go with the rules, and honestly, I don't even have to warn about it, I'm just being clear here so we all know where we stand. It is, honestly, not hard to understand.

So, you see, there's a reason for that rule, and I thought that it was absolutely clear without having to go through this big-ass text post, but maybe you just didn't know it. I am not gate keeping anyone, I'm not an elitist, I am not an kid-eating ogre (I do actually like them, little wips of a person), I am just saying that in this particular blog, in my house, this is a rule that should be respected if you want to stay. If you don't then don't follow me (or block me, even, so you don't have to deal with the posibility of someday finding any of my post in your dash, it is really, really okay, since as I said before, I am not responsible for what you consume or not, but you are.)

And that, dear Anon, is what's wrong with me.

Have a nice night

🤍🤍🤍

#inklessletter #warning of minors dni #anon asks #seriously anon i could have replied this to you without that attitude #i hope you understand what I'm saying here

[somer-writes]

The Heart of Hyrule Modern AU pt 1

Alright AU dump let's goooo

Let's get some character stuff down for the 3 grown ups (not including Malon)

Time

He's a retired adventurer/hero. He's actually been knighted by the crown but he only agreed as a favor to his old childhood friend, the crown princess Zelda. He's pretty well known as more myth than man for his monster slaying escapades.

Mysterious origins abound. No one except for Malon knows how old Time is and where he's *actually* from. He is in fact from the Kokiri Forest which is a common fairytale. His mother left him there while fleeing the civil war which ended a few years after his birth.

Able to sense magic. Uses it sometimes.

He's married to Malon. When Talon passed, Malon inherited Lon-Lon Ranch. Everything is in her name. He has a coffee mug that says 'Princess' on it as a joke. They also joke he married her for the horses. Lon-Lon Ranch is small, mostly managed by the two of them and Twilight.

Time's pretty reclusive. He doesn't like to go into town. There's rumors about him bc of it, but Malon throws hands for him.

Time and Malon "hired" Twilight as a ranch hand when he showed up on their doorstep with an old ad in the paper from when Talon still ran things. They couldn't just let a kid like him out of their sight and have essentially adopted him.

They also look after the others. Their home is a safe place for the younger ones to go when they need it. Also they pay them to help out with chores (esp during the summer).

Time has issues with chronic pain which is part of why he stopped going on royal errands. His back and knees are pretty rough.

He keeps out hummingbird feeders for both birds and fairies.

Caffeine addict. Always has a cup of coffee within 5 feet of his person. Malon buys his coffee mugs. They are all jokes at his expense.

His favorite food is milk. The colder the better.

Not a strong reader. Malon taught him how to read.

Warriors

Next oldest. He's 22, just slightly older than Twi.

He's a city boy. He left his family's primary home there to live in their summer house in town. It's a big manor and he lives there alone. He doesn't really like it much but he doesn't know what else to do with himself

Heir to a weapons development company that got its foothold in the war. wealthy upbringing. His dad's been married three times so Wars has a large amount of step and half siblings he's not close to. He himself is an "only" child. He does not get along with his father and doesn't know the rest of his family well.

He was in school for architecture but is taking a break bc it got to be too much for him. He works part time at the city office as a clerk.

Doesn't make friends easily, is used to getting picked on.

Emotionally neglected/abused as a child. Struggles with being too clingy when he makes a genuine bond with someone. Lots of feelings of insufficiency

Prolific dater for a while in high school. Cheated on his partners. Had one extremely toxic ex as a teenager (theres cw worthy stuff here so i wont mention it in this post) and has been put off on ever having any real relationships with anyone ever again.

Touch aversion bc of the aforementioned. Doesn't mind if it's Wind or Twi tho. Slowly warming up to the others.

He struggles to relate or says very ignorant things sometimes just bc of his privileged upbringing but he's doing his best to learn better.

Came up in private school. Had nannies until he was 14. Nowhere's ever really felt like home to him

Writes poetry and paints. Greatly enjoys romcoms.

Twilight

Next oldest at 21. He's from Ordon which is an occupied territory of Hyrule

High school dropout/teenage runaway. Has his GED.

Orphaned, found by Rusl when Rusl was out on a monster hunt. Raised by Rusl and Uli.

Ran away at 16 after fucking around with dark magic and finding out. Saw Some Shit. Still has nightmares. He's still in contact with Rusl and Uli and they know he's safe but he's doing some "soul searching" and so hasn't gone home.

The dark magic let him go to the spirit realm. He can turn into the wolf as a result (and has to bc he gets grouchy if he's Hylian for too long). Some of his keen hearing/smelling carries over. Can see spirits. Nobody knows yet.

Tried to make a living at first as a freelance monster hunter. Got his ass handed to him a few times. Eventually blew into town as a very hungry/sick 17-yo and wound up at Lon-Lon looking for work

He doesn't feel like he deserves Time and Malon's love but they care for him like he's their own kid. He's always working extra hard to try and make up for it.

Missing his left arm from the shoulder down. Lost it to the monster that attacked his village shortly before Rusl found him.

Does not like when people offer their help when it comes to his arm. He will let them know when he needs a hand (kek).

Extremely fond of and good with animals. Also really strong once he got healthy again. Very capable on horseback, adores cats.

When he can't be found at the creek or stables, he can be found sleeping in various places around the farm. Always has cats on/following him.

Reads a lot, draws too. Fishes often. Works on his truck with Malon and Four.

Looks up to Time, best bros forever with Wars, very close with Wild

pescatarian (only fish hes caught tho, never bought)

#somer writes #the heart of hyrule modern au #im sure i have more to say about them but my thoughts are a little scattered #also theres 6 more lads and malon to get to #and eventually ill write out setting notes too #aus are such a chore sometimes XD #linked universe #lu fanfiction #i am also taking questions lol #and questions would be helpful for solidifying ideas #if you made it this far congrats

[discourseposter]

i know you made that post like a week ago but the idea of the u.s. having unobstructed democracy is literally just one of the myths used to convince people that its a morally superior country. like black people and immigrants and poor people in general have to jump thru so many hoops to register to vote. and the bipartisan system is so forced that quite literally it does not work to vote third party in federal elections. i really fucking wish it did but it doesnt. the usamericans online who are all fighting over voting for biden or not voting at all are a tiny minority and they couldn't get a third party candidate elected even if they all magically agreed on one. if it was a real democracy than they would be doing what you want them to do, not agonizing over all the other shitty options that they have

AND leftists wouldve actually been successful in voting against imperialism for the past 200 yrs.. like this is not our choice. i know most americans are total pieces of shit about everyone else but the actual allies and sympathizers of the u.s.'s victims really are powerless within the system

Hi! I've left this ask simmer in my head for a whole day because I really wanted to digest it and put it down in a way that made some sense.

Fair warning I'm about to get rlly political about imperialism under the cut

I've received a lot of comments in that post about how democracy in the US is not as straightforward as it appears —I've gathered as much, which is why i referred to it as a perfectly crafted illusion of free will. But what I think most people missed from the post is that I was referencing, in its opposition, countries that literally had to bounce back from nondemocratic, violent governments through popular organizations rebelling against the system, which put their lives at immeasurable risk.

Throughout history all types of seemingly unmovable systems rose and fell. Kingdoms, dynasties, dictatorships, monarchies, caliphates, colonies, republics, you name it, its been made and destroyed. A common denominator within revolutions such as the french revolution, the haitian revolution, the american civil war and countless others was an overpowering sense of necessity within its "rebels". An overwhelming amount of people were poor, starving, and/or getting killed left and right because of their stations, races, ideologies, religions, etcetera.

It is my deeply cemented belief that the American Dream is in fact a device of the empire to keep the average usamerican content and compliant. As long as you have food on your plate, Netflix on your TV and an iPhone in your hand, you're not going to pay that much mind to which happens outside. You have the luxury to see an update on the current situation in Palestine, reblogs it, say to yourself "thank god it isn't happening to me", and move on to another amiable day in the suburbs. I'm not saying the life quality is anywhere near perfect, but it by far surpasses that of the "global south", "the third world" or however you'd like to name us.

It's strategic, calculated, a small sacrifice that the empire has to make to protect its exploitative endeavors: provide for those who have actual civic impact (reminder: puerto rico still can't vote). It's a necessary dent in the empire's funds, one they'd like to keep to a minimum, hence the dubious immigration policy and carefully crafted housing crisis in a country of such an extent — The American Dream can't be for everyone, otherwise there'd be no one else to exploit.

In essence the reason why the current democratic system has not yet been overthrown is quite simply that the usamerican people, those who have actual civil impact on the inner politics of the country, are not motivated enough to make it change. There is a reason why a significant number of the people who are most involved in the political cause of palestine happen to be marginalized sectors: people from the global south, arabs, people of color — understanding this imperialist oppression firsthand makes it harder to ignore. There is a reason aaron bushnell self immolated: his occupation put him in a position that made it outright impossible to ignore the horrors.

Furthermore, there is the knowledge that one win against the empire helps ton for the overall cause of mitigating this regime. A damn good motivation for us, not so much for the people who benefit from the current system.

TLDR you can always overthrow the government and demand a fairer system, but the the average american finds no strong real reason to.

[genshrineimpact]

abnormal day

| ✾ | golden plated chopsticks [prologue]

⬙⤠ masterlist ⤝⬙

◇ a/n ◇ just fyi i feel like this series will probably have a lot of zhongli x reader chapters + found family trope. i'm so sorry i just can't stop simping this man slkfsdjl

"zhongli."

you can see the funeral consultant visibly tensing up. his motions are practiced and elegant as ever as he sets down his tea and turns to face you, but if you look closely you can see that he's concerned at the steely tone in your voice.

"yes, [name]? how may i assist you?"

a loud slam. zhongli blinks and catches your hand. two pairs of eyes stare at the paper you had shoved onto his chest.

fuck, your knuckles hurt.

and yet he doesn't even look winded.

"this is….?" the ex-archon blinks and fumbles with the glasses hanging on the elegant strap around his neck. squinting at the small prints of the document, zhongli gives you a clueless look, "i apologize, it seems to be a financial report of some kind? while i am familiar with doing such work back in the parlor, i'm afraid this world's customs are still-"

"that," you inhale deeply, "is my bank statement. a compiled financial report, you could say. i don't need help with that."

"then what does-"

"explain to me why i have to pay a whole three hundred dollars for a damn gold plated chopsticks, rex lapis."

he blinks and tilts his head, "well, the item has yet to arrive seeing as they had to 'ship it' from far out the land, but i assure you that the intricacies of the patterns and the craftsmanship that i have seen on the sample product was truly astounding. you would not have been able to find anything like it in all of teyvat, and not for such a low price. even the lovely chopsticks i bought for childe costed 426 times more than that. i believe it is - if i may use a word i have learned recently - 'a steal'."

he looks so satisfied with his explanation.

zhongli is anything but a himbo but at this moment you think the title fits him so well.

"zhongli. darling. i have chopsticks at home. they cost like, three dollars," you groan, "i told you how we have different currency systems here and how one mora does not equate to one dollar. do you understand how ridiculous your logic sounds now?"

he blinks and places his chin on his fist.

god fucking damn it his thinking pose is even hotter in real life.

"it… seems like the common sense of this world has escaped me again. my apologies, the moment i saw the product i thought it would make a good present for you, seeing as you have been looking extremely stressed these past few days."

oh.

"you… were about to gift it to me?"

"yes. it was meant to be a surprise, of course, but i failed to consider that you would be notified by the purchase before the item could even reach your hand," zhongli hums, "truly, this world of yours is a complex one. i wonder if the future liyue will be able to grow into such an advanced civilization. before coming here, i would have never imagined that such a world exists where one could pay for everything by simply handing over a small card and receiving it back just seconds later."

you almost can't process the next few words that leaves his mouth after his affirmation.

zhongli is trying to give you a gift.

zhongli is trying to give you a gift.

after so many gifts you've spoiled him, so many primogems wasted, and so many overtimes you pull to pay for his kit. he's trying to give you a gift.

nevermind the fact that he's trying to buy you a present with your own money.

you think you're going to cry.

"[name]. i truly apologize. i can see that this is very distressing for you and i'd like to discuss how we can resolve this. is there perhaps a way so that we can cancel the-"

to zhongli's astonishment, you sniffle and shake your head.

"i'll pay the three hundred dollars…… it's nowhere close to what i spent for you anyway."

you shudder when you remember the monthly bank statement whenever zhongli's banners roll around. he seems to have taken this gesture as your resolution wavering, and so being the considerate man that he is, his voice softens as he addresses you again.

"[name], are you certain? please know that it is never my intention to make things harder for you. i am very grateful for your hospitality thus far. if there's anything i could do to reduce your burden, please, by all means, let me know."

"....."

"....."

"you could, uh, start working, i guess?" as much as you want to take over childe's spot as zhongli's sugar daddy in this world spoil him, you're a little worried about your slowly diminishing savings.

zhongli nods resolutely, "very well. i suppose i will have to look for a different profession, seeing as my knowledge of the past will not be of use here. what do you suggest i should do? is an equivalent of a job advertisement board in the city that might help me in this endeavour?"

you sigh.

"alright, time to teach you about computers, i guess."

"kom-pyu-ters?"

oh boy.

ah, yes, how nostalgic. you never thought you'd miss the main menu music, but here you are, humming along as the game downloads its latest patches and updates.

it's been so long since you've played, mainly because you were busy with work and your roommate from another world, but today you're intent to do some de-stressing and to enjoy yourself fully! even zhongli seemed like he knew you didn't want to be disturbed somehow! he has yet to leave his storage-room-turned-bedroom since morning, and-

….. what the- where the hell are all your teams?

"[name], i believe we have a problem."

oh please not now.

"well, i have a problem too, i had a bad day at work and now genshin is glitching on me and-" you freeze on your seat right after you swivel to turn towards the entrance of your work-slash-play room.

because in addition to zhongli, there are even more familiar faces.

well, at least now you know where your main teams have gone.

"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING???!?!?!???"

© genshrineimpact | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #a(b)normal day #rin writes

[baladric]

tell me about your sad man!!!!! 🥺🥺

oh man i am still not used to saying things on here and ppl going i see that you have said a thing pls elaborate on that thing, also THANk u bless u so on and so forth

my sad sad man is named ALISTAIRE FINCH and he is the protag of a story about some idiots who killed half of god as a power grab and fucked up the fabric of reality as a whole (SECRETLY), condemning these two civilizations on opposite sides of the veil to a dysfunctional symbiosis and eventual collapse, until alistaire is selected to take the place of the last court composer of the immortal court (A SURPRISINGLY HIGH STAKES ROLE) and is forced to pack up his (HARD WON) life and move to the other side of the veil (WEIRD, CREEPY, WHY IS THE WEATHER WARM HERE WTF DO YOU MEAN Y'ALL HAVE SUNLIGHT ALL YEAR) where he finds out kings are exactly as stupid and bitchy as all the stories say and asks way too many questions (dont you think its kind of Weird that you can't Create Things without kidnapping humans to do it for you what's that about) and finds out the thing about some idiots killing half of god and listen i don't know if he's gonna feel moved to fix it or not yet but what i do know is he has some extremely freaky sex with the bitchy king, and honestly what more does anyone want in a story

ive been playin w him for like Years but i never found where he fit—knew he was a composer and a pianist, knew he was Chilly™ (he is,, also,,,,, where the idea of assassin couriers, came from,,,,...,.. which is definitely for sure unrelated to everything) but then i 1) reread the locked tomb 2) watched akira 3) listened to a lot of rachmaninoff 4) played hyper light drifter and 5) got obsessed w the demiurg, and now i not only KNOW what's up w him, i have Soooooo much actual shit to play with and i am gnawing gnashing biting biting biting biting;adlkfjaw

bonus points: royal line of shifter dragons, court intrigue with morally dubious fey-adjacent nobility/socialites, alistaire's very excellent sister juliette who's gonna get herself in so much trouble and then fix it her own damn self bc She Might Be Low On Common Sense But Her Mistakes Are HERS Dammit, extremely haunted magic, and a great deal of horniness about the tactile experience of live music

A is also,, a triple capricorn. so that's really too bad for him

#literally thank you :') for asking :'))) #i'm so like shy to screech abt ocs #esp these days when everyone's here for like. CONTENT #but!!!!!!!! he is my son and im so in love w the world that's springing up so richly minute to minute rn #twilightdomain #aj answers #ask #the starfall tag

[clementine-kesh]

oh fuck yeah harry kim meta for the win!! if it's alright, can you elaborate on harry being 'as starfleet as they come'? (maybe even comparing him to *picard's* idea of what starfleet is and should be? i think they're interesting individuals to put side by side.) thanks!

hell yeah i’m always down to talk meta! by “as starfleet as they come” i was mostly referring to him being the picture perfect model ensign type. you know, top of his class, did a ton of extracurriculars, someone who was happy and thriving within the system. a system i doubt he ever questioned pre-voyager, either. plus, he’s ambitious and has the skills to match. see: non sequitur, where in the alternate timeline he was less than a year out of the academy and already presenting the first update to starfleet’s shuttles in 50 years. it’s not a stretch to say he’d have worked his way up the ladder pretty quickly were he not trapped on voyager.

but of course starfleet is more than just academic performance or scientific knowledge. it’s about people, seeking out new life and learning from it, and harry’s a great example of someone who embodies that. he’s a character who doesn’t assume things about other people and does his best to meet them at their level. there are two scenes that illustrate this really well, the first is when he and tom are eating dinner and he wants to invite janeway to eat with them and tom thinks it’s a bad idea to which harry’s like well who else is she gonna eat with, and the second is when he expresses interest in seven and tom’s like ew wtf dude she’s a borg and harry retorts with well there’s a woman in there, too. in both cases you have someone making assumptions about someone else and harry pushing back on it by being like no they’re a person just like us and we should do our best to connect with them. see also warhead when harry’s like “we’re not transporting this mysterious ai device on board” and the doctor’s like “but it’s just like me 🥺” and that’s what convinces harry. harry might be an engineer by training but his real superpower lies in diplomacy.

contrast that with picard, who is also a very skilled diplomat, but the key difference is that picard is loyal to institutions and harry is loyal to people. harry’s out there pulling shit like staging a mutiny and violating the temporal prime directive just to save his friends. stuff that goes directly against every rule in starfleet’s book. picard could NEVER. he’s a needs of the many kinda guy whereas harry says fuck that everyone matters!! shit hits the fan and harry will always choose to help people over any perceived moral high ground or sense of duty. maybe if harry hadn’t been thrown into the psychological maelstrom of voyager he would’ve turned out more like picard but thank god he didn’t because let’s be real, he’s way more interesting of a character because he’s a little messed up and has some moral ambiguity to him.

i think picard’s vision of starfleet is very much one that exemplifies a lofty sense of enlightenment, of being the pinnacle of civilization. whereas harry’s is way more about actually helping people no matter who they are. see: picard’s reaction to members of the maquis vs. harry’s. picard gets all high and mighty and pissed about them betraying the federation while harry takes a step back and tries to find common ground. if picard were on voyager he probably would’ve been a lot more like lieutenant carey and bitched about the maquis instead of actually trying to work with. becoming best friends with one? again, picard could NEVER

#star trek #voyager

[shut-up-rabert]

Do you think the Aryan Invasion Theory is true? I watching Mahabharata (star plus) and they kept using Aryavarta which reminded me of the Aryan race that Hilter used and so I did a little research and obviously he had no idea what he was talking about but what I found on the theory was a bit unsettling. I always believed that Hinduism/Sanskrit/Vedas originated in India (Indus Valley) but this theory seems to have genetic research to support it and it set off my whole belief system and gave me an identity crisis for some reason

Well, I am not really big on this theory because it has zilch proof to it as far as I have seen, only theories.

A simplified take on the same is the Indian Express article on Rakhigarhi excavation.

Other than that, there was this lengthy India Today article on the same excavation that gave me a headache because it won’t go to the fucking point, but I suppose it is in favour of the theory? I don’t know man, it’s fucking long and I did not read it all, just understood that IVC people from 4500 were native and that apparently we have outsider DNA.

There is no proof of any migration other than those based on change in genetic make up, a more plausible theory of which I explain later.

The interesting thing is, that the said Aryan invasion Theory first pinned us to be central asians from 1500BC and now we are Iranian farmers. It completely ignores the fact that Indians have little genes in common with Europeans who we supposedly come from moreso with South Indians (and I mean much more, we have almost the same gene combination except a few), and seems as if the India today article, based on the same premise of “Aryans had this one gene (r1 to be more specific) common with Iranians that Indus people did not have” fails to realise that people from the northwest of Indian subcontinent can have common genes with the bordering land for other reasons aswell because no shit sherlock, people fuck💀

I mean, how else do you explain the much higher genetic connection to south indians?

Another factor they use for the theory is the simultaneous developement of modern day Hinduism and Zorastrianism, but that too can be chalked upto influence rather than migration, given that Hinduism is actually older by a little margin (oldest living religion) and for the theory to be true, the migration should have gone westward instead.

Heck, the influence thing can easily exclude the theory altogther, because Iran is close to what are now the areas of IVC, and them slowly influencing the culture during or after IVC when they became more civil, (in 4000BC) or us doing the same, or even intermixing of the two will make more sense than AIT.

The migration of these Aryans cannot be proven otherwise aswell because there lies no proof for same. Literally none. The archeologist in the India today article and few others uphold it yet are unable to prove it beyond circumstantial evidence that makes more sense when turned against the theory rather than its favour, like the Iranian thing I mentioned. It might also very well be a migration to eastwards in Hind from the western part, because the Vedas were written before the supposed “Vedic Aryan invaders” happened and they are clearly neither Monotheistic nor Tribal, and align more with the Indic religions, so I digress they came from Central Asia or Iran.

Plus, the Vedas were written by the "aryans" on banks of saraswati, and the saraswati dried up centuries before they "destroyed IVC and took over". Another interesting thing is that Saraswati flew through the IVC sooooo.... yeah, maybe it all can be summed up to people fucking🫠

The thing is, we are locals, this culture was very much developed here on this land. Vedas, Sanskrit, Sanatan, there is a reason you do not see traces of them elsewhere, and I am certain this theory is BS because of the little I have read, because it has nothing to prove for itself.

But other than that, this particular subject was never of my interest because of how lengthy it was, and I fucking sucked at history, so may I suggest asking others who do think of this topic as often. I only know @tiananmen-square-orgy to be my nerdy mutual on this topic, and if finnie cannot help you I'll try geting you connected to a friend who is not on tumblr yet can help becuase of his extensive knowledge.

#desiblr #asks #aryan invasion theory #anti aryan invasion theory #anon bhai ki asks

[author-morgan]

Hello! I'm currently reading through your amazing backlog of fics, and you are such a compelling and excellent writer. Fan fiction writers add an air of anachronism to anything historical that generally disrupts the flow and takes the reader out of the story, but I never get that when reading your work. As someone who wants to get into writing AC fan fiction, do you have any tips for maintaining historical accuracy? I tried using the games for details but found their info to be lacking. Thanks!

Thank you, thank you. ❤️🥺🥰❤️🥺🥰

Not to sound like a broken record, but research, research, and more research. I won't sugarcoat it because it takes a lot of time to dig around for good sources about certain historical periods, and more often than naught, I find those in scholarly journals or historical texts themselves. Find historians who specialize in a certain period of history. I like Roel Konijnendijk for Ancient History, and, for example, I’ve read the Histories by Herodotus for my Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey stories, especially the long fics. (Just ask @mrsragnarlodbrok, she knows how crazy I can get when looking into historical stuff for fics, even if it's literally almost a PWP, lol.) 

Watch documentaries and listen to trusted podcasts about history! You'll absorb a surprising amount of information just by listening (I often have some sort of documentary on in the background when I'm working from home—the HistoryHit YouTube and related channels are all great places to start looking, especially for Greek-Roman stuff).   

Even though it is difficult to remove the influences of modern morals, standards, and ethics from my worldview and writing, I try my utmost to be true to what would have been commonplace for the societal views and standards within the respective eras — that means someone living in Saxon England is more than likely going to be a Christian and live by what the Church says until the plot potentially demands otherwise! 

It's also vital to understand the limitations of the knowledge and technology of the time you're writing for. One of the most egregious faux pas I can think of in this respect that I’ve seen repeated (whether it be for historical fiction or fanfiction) comes with wound treatment and care — in a world without proper sanitation and antibiotics, things like gut wounds would almost always be fatal. 

Speaking of wound care, look for old medical books and accounts of battlefield treatments (e.g., the American Civil War era) to know how things would have been treated. Looking into the native vegetation from an area and digging around for any medicinal properties can help you construct your own types of authentic (perhaps not accurate, though) cures. This plays into my next point, don't be afraid to make reasonable extrapolations!

Diction! Language matters. Modern language and slang will distract from the overall authenticity of the story if not done with moderation or intent. Sure, you don’t have to go back to Ye Olde English, but make sure you’re picking words that fit, especially in the dialogue, and that there is consistency. Something that helps me write for the Gilded Age (late 1800s) is reading letters people used to write one another. In general, I feel tossing in a few swears (like fuck) now and then won’t kill the mood so much, but if you can find period-appropriate swears, then even better! This is a case where reading historical documents and texts can help.  

Don’t overlook the small things! The small things can help create a sense of authenticity. This can be something like understanding the fabrics and dyes available during a certain time period and the style of clothing that was common (and how these differed between classes). A commoner in the Viking period wouldn’t have silk pillows or “mounds of silk” on their beds. Are certain foods available during the time period you’re writing for? Potatoes are probably the worst offenders for this. 

One last thing is just watching historical/period films and TV shows. Often, there are common bits of misinformation or tropes you can start to spot once you start researching that don't really fit—once you spot those, don't do it (unless there's a very good reason for it)!

I’m sure I’m just scratching the surface, but these are the key ideas and philosophy that guide me when writing fics for historical (and fantasy based on historical eras — Game of Thrones) times. In the end and given the nature of the fandoms I write for, I personally strive for authenticity over true accuracy.

#sierra replies #anonymous #writing tips #also just practice practice practice #the more you write the better you'll feel #and like for me i absolutely stink at writing anything post Edwardian era