#Mongrel Media

[rickchung]

Mongrels (dir. Jerome Yoo) x VIFF 2024.

Yoo's debut feature remembers a hazy memory of a Korean family drama set in a 1990s rural Canadian town. A widower immigrant father (Jae-Hyun Kim) does his best to raise his teenage son (Da-Nu Nam) who's learning to become a man and young daughter (Sein Jin) who desperately misses her late mother. There's a lyrical quality to the film's dreamlike structure about grief, survival, and resilience. It's an impressively assured debut evoking a strong sense of mood and setting to its characters adjusting to feeling of foreignness and not belonging.

Premiered at the 2024 Vancouver International Film Festival as part of the Northen Lights series.

[mightyflamethrower]

[buddierecs]

humour/crack buddie fics

all explicit rating - 18+ only!!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

keep me as your finish line by: thatbuddie "spoiler alert: buck does fuck the guy in the showers. but that comes after nicknaming him big beautiful brown eyes, finding out his name is actually eddie, becoming his best friend, and falling madly in love with him." word count: 33k important tags: different first meeting au, pining, bisexual disaster!evan buckley, fluff, getting together i like you so much (it's kinda gross) by: aficatyourfingertips, brewrosemilk "eddie is an MMA fighter and buck thirsts on twitter" word count: 10k important tags: celebrity au, social media, texting, sexting like a dog with a bird at your door by: fleetinghearts "evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home" word count: 51k important tags: domestic, love confessions, friends to lovers, pining, eventual smut, hurt!eddie diaz, protective!evan buckley the kids had sex, chim by: whiskis "buck and eddie's extra activities got buck's voice all fucked up (pun intended)." word count: 5.3k important tags: established relationship, secret relationship, idiots in love, fluff, light dom/sub, blow jobs, face-fucking, coming untouched caught up in your curls by: smilingbuckley "after having been in el paso for awhile, taking care of his abuela, eddie can finally go home to los angeles. he fully expected his son to have changed over the past few weeks because he's a teenager, they change every day. what he didn't prepare for was buck, who suddenly has grown out his curls. curls eddie has a weakness for. it causes for some... interesting situations, until eddie reaches his breaking point." word count: 6.1k important tags: getting together, horny!eddie diaz, pining!eddie diaz, hair kink, soft!buddie, blow jobs, anal sex, top!evan buckley, bottom!eddie diaz,

raw denial by: honestlydarkprincess "the one where buck wears a shirt with a specific meaning and eddie kind of spirals about it." word count: 4.5k important tags: friends to lovers, anal sex, multiple orgasms, sir kink, praise kink, orgasm delay/denial, barebacking we don't need to play games like these (you won me long ago) by: withmeornotatall "five times buck was turned on by eddie's complete lack of rizz and the one time he realised what his new kink was for" word count: 10k important tags: domestic fluff, established relationship, developing relationship, smut, roleplay, boys in love don't chicken out, it's all good by: fromthebeginningthen "in which, eddie and buck go home and play gay chicken and it's a game until it's not." word count: 7.5k important tags: getting together, repressed!eddie diaz, demisexual!eddie diaz, panic attacks, emotional hurt/comfort, sexual tension, smut, frottage search history by: forgottenwords "buck makes dip and eddie has a crisis over his best-friends porn habits. they fall in love along the way." word count: 12k important tags: fluff, getting together, soft!buddie, mutual pining, domestic fluff blow jobs, anal sex, masturbation, nipple play, bottom!evan buckley, minor daddy kink and life rushes in by: catwalksalone "eddie runs into taylor kelly in a bar and learns a surprising new fact about his best friend." word count: 17k important tags: feelings realisation, feelings confessions, first time, top!eddie diaz, blow job

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stricken 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, ostricization,and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you were scarred by a storm years ago and its bringer has come to upheave your life once more.

Characters: God of War!Thor

Note: I did this finally.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You always know when a storm's coming. The hairs on your arms stand and your skin burns hot. The smell of rain is tinted by another scent. That of burning flesh and ash. Your scars raze as if struck again and for a moment, you cannot hear or see. 

Slowly, the scent of rain returns to you and the noise of the patter, sometimes more a hammering, as if to remind you of its bearer. The thunder is his war cry. The lightning his wrath. You do wonder why then it should’ve come down on you. 

You keep your hood up, your chin low. Though you hide, the villagers know who you are, they know of your misfortune. The calamity wrought into your flesh in veined scars. Your face is marked with the storm, zigzagged with lines as your left eye is struck blind and white. 

Yet it isn’t your name they whisper as you stop at a stall to buy grain. It is his. The Prince of Asgard. The might God of Thunder. The monster who made you like this. 

The air is thick, roiling with unspent moisture, and the clouds threatening in a grey ripple. You should have come yesterday. You should not have waited so long.  

You trade your coin and move on, gathering the small rations you can afford. You’ll return to your hovel, gather what you can from the garden, and check the traps for rabbits. It should get you through, though the frost does eat away at your harvest.  

As you have it, between the chirping of your disfigurement, there is worse creeping from the north. The snows have fallen heavy and whole lakes have frozen to the silt. You do not believe all you hear but you know better than to disregard the nip in the air. 

Your basket remains like but you’ve spent your limit. Your cloak shifts with your movement and you shrink lower as you near the group of adolescents feigning at battle with sticks. Their audience glimpses your passing and you hear their voices mingle with laughter. 

“It’s that crone. The burnt one,” comes a bit louder than is meant. 

You don’t stop. You don’t show that you’ve heard it. There is nothing to be said.  

“Cursed, by Thor’s hammer,” another chortles, “it is said he was forging and struck the blade too hard. In his wrath, he sent a storm. A mongrel like her drew it upon herself, broken like the sword.” 

Certainly, that too is a story to be met with skepticism. One cannot guess at what the gods do in Asgard nor why they bring only misery and chaos to Midgard. You cannot disagree that the storm was no favour to you. A curse, certainly, though the meaning can never be known. 

You move along, leaving behind their whispers and their sneers. Off to your solace, to your safe. Out of the path of any wandering soul or any blowing storm.  

⛈

A storm rages without. Water swirls and batters your small abode, built against the wall of a cave on a carpet of peat. You cover your ears as the winds whistle and wail. You quake beneath your cloak, eyes locked shut as you cower away from the tempest so much as your own memories. 

The blinding white flash and the scalding hot pain. Your fingers creep up to your chin and feel the rigged scars. You can never forget, no matter how you try. You can never be as you were. You are marked, you are damaged, and as the villagers have it on their tongues, broken. 

Even your family would not have you. You remember your mother’s wail as your father drove you off like some beast. ‘The gods have smited you themselves. You cannot remain or you will wreck ruin upon us all.’ 

Days of walking and tears, like the very storm that scarred you, a haze through which you trod until you could go no more. Until your head would split and the burnt flesh began to weep. A woman found you on the forest floor, rotting away from the corruption spreading through you. 

You don’t remember much of her. Only her touch and how she healed you. She bid you off with the cloak you wear and some food for your travels. Then you were alone and thus you remain. Not even the thieves will steal from you, nor the criminals darken your door. A curse is worth no piece of gold, no drop of blood. 

The pounding of rain relents. A chill creeps beneath the slats of your door and seep into the walls. You fill the earth with what kindling you have, the clay chimney puffing smoke up through the center of the roof. You hold your hands out to warm but find little comfort. 

You settle on your side beneath your cloak and stare into the flames. You shiver. It’s cold. Very cold. Typically, the rain chases away the chill but this is different. You can feel it in the ground. You curl up tight, clinging to your warmth, let your eyes close. Sleep comes but for lack of and not peacefully. 

Your dreams are a maelstrom. There a flames and ice, one after the other, sometimes together. Sharp pointed shards frozen and hanging, then licking tendrils of heat from below. You are lost in the land of sleep, tortured by a world built of your own fears and follies. 

You wake stiff and frigid. The fire has gone out. Not even smoke remains in the pile of ash. You move carefully, bones aching, scars tingling. You touch the hard ridging along your cheek and your fingers pulse from the cold. You can see your breath. 

How can it be? It was sunny before the rain. You get your feet under you and stand with a groan. Near the door, a strange dusting of white powders around the door, flecking in from beneath and around the edges. Snow? 

Were the tales true after all? You wince as suddenly your scars singe and sting. Ow. You recoil and cover your face with your hands, hissing and wheezing through the pain. It hurts terribly. Worse than even the first strike.  

You pull your hands away as your eyes water and you blink through your tears. You can see, at least in your good eye. There is no lightning, it is only in your mind. You shakily turn and search around. You cry out again as the agony surges once more in your head. 

Why? 

Your legs quake. Something is amiss. The frost has come and this meagre hut cannot withstand it. You take your rucksack and put what you can carry into it. Your water skin is strung across your chest and your pack upon your back. You wrap your boots with rags and your hands too. You haven’t the clothing for the cold but you will need to find something. Perhaps skin a hare or two. 

The door blows inward almost as soon as you touch it, another gust nearly bowling you over. You sway with the wind and cling to the crooked doorframe. You shove yourself out, just as quickly flattened to the wall by a flurry of snow. It dusts your face coldly and you pull up your neck scarf over your nose and pull your hood into place. 

You set off, hunched, reaching with your arms as you lift your knees over the treacherous heaps. You keep close to the rock wall. The thought of turning back stops you but it seems as foolish an idea. The hovel cannot hold for much longer. You need to get to the mouth of the cave and chance a sleeping bear within. 

You sidle along, slowed by the snow and the wind, the former soaking through your clothing as the latter whips around your hood. Suddenly, a roll of thunder, like war drums, churns in the air. The word dims and the furor sounds again; louder, closer. 

You cry out and lift an arm to shield yourself instinctively. You curl your hand into the rockface and holler even louder, closing your eyes as your memory summons another storm. No, it cannot be. Not again.  

A deafening boom shakes the ground and knocks you to your knees. You crawl along, keeping low near the ragged stone, those hidden beneath the snow jabbing against your palms. You whimper and whine, blinded by the thickening curtain all around you. 

Yet you never heard of the god raining down snow upon the lands. Only the slaking rains and the hot violence of his bolts. Never this. What sword has he broken this time? Perhaps it was his very own hammer.

The thunder overhead continues its horrid thrum as more pulses in the earth. Boom, boom, boom. You feel it beneath your hands. Your knees come down clumsily as you scramble through the piling powder. You open your eyes and still cannot see. The world is smudge in gray white and black, the sky flashing and darkening from one moment to the next. 

You cry out again as your scars burn. You push yourself back on your heels and grasp your face as you shriek. It hurts! So bad! Your eyes well and flow over. Your body trembles and collapses. You writhe in the snow, contorting with the agony as your flesh feels as if it is splitting. 

Beneath the incessant pounding comes a rocky noise. Like laughter it curdles in the air and chases after you like the steady boom, boom, boom. Closer and closer, louder and louder, the earth quakes in tandem with the cacophony. 

“I’ve found another,” the deep voice scoffs and snickers, “ah, Heimdall, you must see this--” 

The craterous voice halts and the air still. The snow drifts but the wind stops and the thunder relents, the world seeming to hum. You scratch at your face as the flames grow unbearable. You must be alight. It can be the only reason for such pain. 

The large figure, a blurry silhouette in your skewed vision, looms like a mountain. He steps over you, sliding a foot between you and the cave wall and flips you onto your back. You stare up at the sky, rolling in sheets of grey and black, the dark figure standing above, blotting out the clouds. You sob and plead. 

“Make it stop!” You beg as your hood falls back, “kill me! Kill me! It hurts.” 

He bends as your eyes roll back and he grabs your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. He pulls you half off the ground, not a single grunt for the effort. You feel whoever, whatever it is, looking down at you; upon you. A rattle rises in his gritty throat. 

“And what are you?” He breathes. 

You feel another surge and babble, reining in your wild eyes as you quiver uncontrollably. You make yourself look at him. You shudder and shake your head. Shaggy red hair, a braided beard, and eyes so blue they jolt you. Ink marks one side of his broad face as he wears fur upon his soldiers beneath emblems of the godly lands. 

“It hurts...” you rasp, “I am dying.” 

“You...” he grabs your chin, holding you by your shoulder. His thumb extends up your face to touch the scars and you let out a shrill howl as the agony piques. You latch onto his thick arm and thrash. 

“It buuuuuuuurrnssssssssss,” you scream as your spine arches. 

“Hmm,” he hums and throws you into the snow. You continue your desperate wriggling, the fire softening but not leaving you completely, “Heimdall!” He calls out like a war horn, “get your skinny ass over here!” 

There’s a tinkle of coy laughter and lighter footsteps that land on the boulder above. Your eyes drift over and you see another shadow, this one hazier but smaller. A dusting of snow flies up beside you as the other man lands beside you. No, not a man. 

Heimdall? Son of Odin. 

“Oh, Thor, what trouble have you found--” 

“Another one,” the other growls. Not the other, Thor. The God of Thunder. The beast who marked you. “Father says they all must come.” 

“This one?” Heimdall muses as his voice spikes with humour, “why look at her. Pathetic—wait a moment... brother, is this your handiwork?” He squats to see you closer and snickers again, “why how very peculiar.” 

“Bring her,” Thor barks and spins on his heel, swinging his hammer, “we haven’t time--” 

“You bring her, brother. As you say, you are so much stronger--” 

“Just do it!” Thor snarls and a peel of thunder breaks through the clouds. “I need ale.” 

[mariacallous]

With Ukraine’s counteroffensive stalled and the U.S. Congress deadlocked over crucial military aid, some analysts have begun raising the specter of a turning point in the war that could lead to a Ukrainian defeat. While the situation on the ground is still far from dire, it could rapidly deteriorate in the absence of a significant infusion of U.S. military support for Ukraine.

The consequences of a Ukrainian defeat need to be fully understood. The likely geopolitical consequences are easy to anticipate. The defeat of a Western-backed country would embolden Russia and other revisionist states to change other borders by force. A Russian victory would frighten Russia’s European neighbors, possibly leading to a collapse of European collective security as some countries choose appeasement and others massively rearm. China, too, would conclude that Taiwan cannot rely on sustained U.S. support. Indeed, the ripple effects of U.S. indecision have already begun: In a move that recalls Russia’s illegal annexation of several regions of Ukraine, Venezuela this month claimed more than half of neighboring Guyana as its own. While there are no signs of an impending invasion, it would be naïve to think that other countries aren’t watching closely to see whether Russia’s land grab succeeds.

Many analysts have already described these far-reaching security risks. But they pale in comparison to the dire consequences for Ukraine and its inhabitants if Russia wins. It is important for both supporters and opponents of Ukraine aid to know what these consequences would be.

To understand Ukraine’s likely fate if Russia turns the tide, the best place to start is what the Russians actually say. On Dec. 8, Russian President Vladimir Putin made clear that in his view there is no future for the Ukrainian state. On Dec. 5, he spelled out his intention to “reeducate” the Ukrainian people, curing them of “Russophobia” and “historical falsifications.” On Nov. 12, former Russian Prime Minister Dmitry Medvedev made Russia’s appetites clear: “Odessa, Nikolaev, Kyiv, and practically everything else is not Ukraine at all.” It is “obvious,” he posted on Telegram, that Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky is a “usurper,” that the Ukrainian language is only a “mongrel dialect” of Russian, and that Ukraine is “NOT a country, but artificially collected territories.” Other regime propagandists assert that the Ukrainian state is a disease that must be treated and Ukrainians a society that must be “de-wormed.”

More explicitly, Russia’s highly censored state television has, over the past two years, consistently promoted the rape of Ukrainians, the drowning of children, the leveling of cities, the eradication of the Ukrainian elite, and the physical extermination of millions of Ukrainians. For an excellent snapshot of these and other statements, Russian Media Monitor has compiled a must-watch collection of short clips from Russian television, complete with English subtitles. This coordinated campaign is not bluster but a harbinger of what awaits the Ukrainian people. In these remarks, we can see the contours of the atrocities awaiting Ukrainians under a total or nearly total Russian occupation.

We can also project the effect of a Russian victory from the atrocities that are already widespread in the Russian-occupied territories. According to official Ukrainian sources, nearly 2 million Ukrainians have already been removed from their homes and communities in the occupied areas and resettled in Russia, either temporarily or permanently. Other estimates range from 1.6 million to 4.7 million. Russian children’s commissioner Maria Lvova-Belova said that more than 700,000 Ukrainian children have been taken from Ukraine to Russia since February 2022; nearly 20,000 of these are known to Ukrainian authorities by name. Transferring children from their home country and denying them access to their language and culture is not only an internationally recognized war crime. Such forced assimilation is also defined by the U.N. Convention on Genocide as a genocidal act. It is why the International Criminal Court has issued a warrant for Lvova-Belova’s arrest.

Russia is not only ridding its occupied regions of Ukrainians but also replacing them with Russian settlers—a tragic continuity with Soviet and Russian imperial practices of systemic deportation, colonization, and Russification. In the Ukrainian city of Mariupol, where the Russian advance killed tens of thousands of civilians and destroyed 50 percent of the city’s housing stock, a handful of new apartment buildings were recently constructed. Some of that housing is being offered for sale, with Russians carpetbaggers snatching up real estate at bargain prices.

Ukraine’s partly occupied south offers a clear picture of the techniques used by the occupying forces to establish authority. A Human Rights Watch report from July 2022 documents a pattern of torture, disappearances, and arbitrary detention in the region. Citizens endured torture during interrogation, including beatings, electroshocks, and sensory deprivation. Several prisoners died from the torture, and large numbers have simply disappeared. Among the victims were local officials, teachers, representatives of the Orthodox Church of Ukraine, NGO activists, and members of Ukraine’s territorial defense. There also is a massive amount of information collected by human rights monitors and journalists about the operation of filtration and detention camps.

Political indoctrination and the militarization of youth are already key characteristics of life under Russian occupation. Political banners and posters promoting Russian patriotism are omnipresent in the occupied regions. New children’s textbooks expunge Ukrainian history and preach hatred for Ukraine’s leadership. The Ukrainian language is being removed from much of the education system and relegated to its colonial status as a quaint dialect representing nothing but a gradually disappearing regional culture soon to be subsumed in the Russified mainstream.

Already, millions of Ukrainians have had their lives destroyed in one way or another by Russia’s monstrous occupation. Were Russia to complete its conquest, it would be a multiple of that number. After almost a decade of war against Russia, Ukrainians are united and highly mobilized in the defense of their country’s borders, democracy, culture, and language, to which many Ukrainian Russian-speakers have switched out of disgust with Moscow’s invasion. Millions of Ukrainians have been enraged and radicalized by Russia’s war crimes and destruction of their towns and homes. Millions of Ukrainians have volunteered to assist the war effort, millions have contributed funds to support the military, and even more have turned to social media to vent and publicly register their rage at Putin and the Russian state.

That would not only make any conquest brutal and bloody. Should Ukraine lose, almost all of Ukrainian society would need to be punished, repressed, silenced, or reeducated if the occupation is to quell resistance and absorb the country into Russia. For this reason, a Russian takeover would be accompanied by mass arrests, long-term detentions, mass deportations into the Russian heartland, filtration camps on a vast scale, and political terror. If a serious insurgency emerges, the level of repression will only widen and deepen.

A major effort will also be required to rid the country of seditious materials, which is to say all films, novels, poetry, essays, art, scholarly works, and music that may contain positive references to Ukraine’s period of independence. Libraries and schools will be purged of all such subversive content—in essence, the majority of all writing and cultural output that Ukraine has produced during the last three decades. Writers and scholars will face the choice of repudiating their identity and past work or becoming nonpersons in the new order. Many will face arrest or worse, simply because they transport Ukrainian culture and stand in the way of Russification. Again, this is not speculation but widespread practice in other territories that Russia has occupied.

Russian territorial advances would be accompanied by a second wave of Ukrainian refugees far more massive than that of early 2022, when some 7 million Ukrainians crossed the border into the European Union. For the remaining Ukrainians, the future would be one of totalitarian controls on culture, education, and speech, accompanied by a mass terror on a scale not seen in Europe since the 20th-century era of totalitarian rule.

There you have in distilled form what a Russian victory would mean. Members of the U.S. Congress are free to vote against assistance to Ukraine if they think—wrongly—that the war’s outcome does not affect the U.S. national interest. But they should not be allowed to oppose assistance to Ukraine without being fully aware of the tyranny they will be helping to empower—and their responsibility for the massive and entirely predictable crimes that will ensue.

[arkhamjack]

Thank you everyone for the reblogs on my "how some of the fandom sees wolfwood vs how I see him" lol I wanted to continue the conversation bc I am very annoying about this stuff and it grosses me out bc I am sensitive or whatever but um yeah 🤓

It's pretty long so TL;DR stop being weird about Wolfwood thanks 👍

I'll talking about objectification, hypersexualisation, and prejudice so a warning I guess --->

The Gaze has been working overtime on Wolfwood's ass (and tits) and it's making me a little nuts. This is not to say his character cannot be presented in a sexy way, or that he cannot perform sexuality without being problematic, it's just... ask yourself: why.

It can be subconscious, you might not even notice it, but media tropes have a way of worming into people's brains to be regurgitated into fan art, especially if the character presents or is coded marginalised in a way you are not. (I do it too!)

It starts from young. I had an adult call me a "hot head Latina" as a child LMAO (I am not even Latin)

Characters and actors that looked like me were worked into typically these roles - If feminine, desired, sexy but crazy, dangerous. If masculine, similarly sexual, either hot or ugly, suspicious.

I feel silly and attention-seeking for speaking up about this kind of stuff, especially as I feel I'm not in a place to cry 'racism' specifically because I'm more 'ethnic' than POC.

I'm a Balkan mongrel - Greek, bits from Turkey, Albania, and fuck knows what else. I've always kept my head down about people being weird to me but it comes to a point like the point of a classmate comparing my hair to an animal's, where I feel I gotta go "ok yeah lets unpack that."

Now about Wolfwood, he's our classic racially/ethnically ambiguous smoky sexy guy. Particularly in the 98 anime, he's pretty bosomy. He's a struggler - swindling Gunsmoke with his charm and portable confessional. This swindler trope, I've observed, tends to go hand in hand with 'suspicious immigrant out for your money'. Again, maybe I've pulled that out my ass and I'm being oversensitive, but I notice things. Tastes left in my mouth. Anyway. Brings to mind the time some other classmate jokingly called me a 'hustler' for *checks notes* making sure my work is submitted on time.??

Now on the subject of NSFW fanart... oh boy I am so uncomfy writing this... I rarely see him depicted.. receiving. You can place the issues here pretty easily. Give him a break. Please. Also I did note this on my original post and also completely my own opinion but PLEASE that man is not bigger than Vash, and I don't mean like not taller, like, thiccer. Calm the fuck down.

I hate having to write this bc it makes me uncomfy and reflects my own experiences of objectification by other people which sounds all very "oh noo its sooo hard being attractive :'((" but I trust y'all smart enough to see where I'm coming from.

The gaze. Othering. Marginalised masculinity (not to mention my intersecting trans identity thats a whole other unrelated convo). Hypersexualisation. Objectification.

But back to Wolfwood!! - are these tropes perpetuated by the original creator? Personally, I don't think so. (Wolfwood's design is based off a Japanese guy btw - musician Tortoise Matsumoto) The 98 anime? Maybe?? Am I reading too much into it? It's hard not to - naturally I'll latch onto the ambiguous guy and go "alright let's see how they do this" so naturally certain things stand out to me.

But when some of that fanart starts rolling out ... Jesus Christ ... MY EYES

On the flipside, I've seen great fanart out there! And I've seen quite a few Latino headcanons for Wolfwood too!(like I mentioned before I am not Latin, I am also not American in general I am a filthy freak Australian with our own colonial racist histories and intricacies) (There is also Latin diaspora here but I don't wanna speak for anyone aaaah)

I'd like to think most of the fandom is cool about him. But um. Yeah.

I said what I said but if I did say anything out of line I am so sorry and PLEASE let me know - I am using my own experiences as reference and acknowledge the intricacies my own privilege

Yap session over 👍

[makoto-shizumu]

A Long Rant About the 2024 Olympics Boxing Gender Row

Disclaimer: DO NOT REPOST. This post contains personal opinions and information gathered over the past week concerning female boxers and Olympic finalists 🇩🇿 Imane Khelif (left) and 🇹🇼 Lin Yu-Ting (right), as well as their opponents. You are welcome to share your thoughts, but if you come to me with hate or an attempt to convince me they are men through claims such as that of XY chromosomes (which have never been proven, mind you), especially if you or your source(s) cite the corrupt, biased and discredited International Boxing Association (IBA), will be blocked and have your comment(s) deleted. If proper fact-checking is too much work for you, I suggest you save your energy and block me instead. On the other hand, if there are relevant updates or information that I may have missed, do let me know in the comments, and I will edit this post accordingly. Lastly, I do not condone the harassment of any of the individuals involved - that time is better spent on more valuable causes such as 🇵🇸 helping Palestinians, 🏳️‍⚧️ supporting trans people, and calling for the rearrest of convicted child rapist Steven van de Velde. Thank you for reading.

Angela Carini is not a hero.

We all know Carini abandoned her match not even a minute in and complained about being “punched too hard” by Khelif - who made the women’s lightweight quarterfinals in Tokyo. The cop competed in the welterweight division and lost her opening bout 2-3 to 🇹🇼 Chen Nien-Chin (who will join Khelif on the Olympic podium, fuck yeah).

Carini’s involvement has gradually garnered less attention since her apology, but she will have a long way to go before she can be forgiven, especially by Khelif. An Italian posted and translated her deleted tweet before the infamous 46-second bout clearly alluding to Khelif as a man, and Algérié Football Média recently released a recording of Khelif, where she explains how Carini’s club and the Italian media took advantage of her.

What’s worse, the IBA decided to offer Carini a hundred grand as a “consolation prize.” At least this time the Italian federation values their dignity more and refused the money.

Luca Hámori is not a hero.

Remember the Instagram story reshares that she had to take down? Besides the bull-headed giant, Hámori reshared another which called Khelif a korcsot - a dehumanizing Hungarian slur which Google interprets as “monster” or “freak,” but more accurately translates to “mongrel.”

Hámori entered the ring expecting to walk out as a “savior,” but it was Khelif who turned out to be the bigger person that day. Upon her victory, Khelif called out the IBA for their abuse towards her, but she fights on because of her faith in justice.

Svetlana Staneva is NOT A FUCKING HERO. Neither is her equally ill-informed coach, Borislav Georgiev.

This case makes me especially furious not just because I’m also a Taiwanese woman like Lin Yu-Ting, but also the abysmal immaturity of 34-year-old Staneva, THE SECOND OLDEST BOXER IN THE FEATHERWEIGHT DIVISION. Even Hámori has shown more decency in the ring, and she’s eleven years younger!

If you, like me, have watched their full match, you should acknowledge that Yu-Ting was undoubtedly the better boxer that day - same case in her RO16 bout against Sitora Turdibekova.

On the other hand, you’ll see that Staneva doesn’t need “protecting,” considering she literally held Yu-Ting by the head and SLUNG HER ACROSS THE RING (around 3:25-3:30). I’m sorry, Staneva, did you ever realize the audience was there to watch boxing and not wrestling?! And she calls herself a “proud XX woman.” Our commentators did not witness that gesture, but if they did I trust they would’ve been fuming as much as I have the past few days.

If she truly were a proud woman, she would not play dirty the entire time, then give up five seconds before the final bell. Look me straight in the eyes and tell me that you would want to be represented by such behavior. I feel sorry for the Bulgarians and her other supporters who had to witness such a shameful performance.

Oh, one more thing… Guess who the IBA gave a bronze medal in the 2023 World Championships after disqualifying Yu-Ting?

That’s right, it was Staneva. No wonder her coach was willing to give up all professionalism and pander to the IBA’s lies. And look what that got them - now they’re not allowed anywhere near the Olympic podium! This could be unlikely, but let’s hope they are punished by the IOC and/or any relevant departments back in Bulgaria.

(I’m not going on Twitter for a better resolution of this photo. This one fries my eyes enough.)

Esra Yıldız Kahraman is not a hero.

I am at a loss of words.

What the actual fuck, Kahraman. We thought you were better than this.

I will only say this once. DO NOT confuse bad sportsmanship, disinformation, transphobia, (inter)sexism, and racism with “defending women’s sports.”

Reducing womanhood to chromosomes, genitalia, physical appearance, and/or some other bullshit is the most despicable and disgusting thing to come out of such hatred, and I will die on this hill. And gender tests? They were abolished due to their ineffectiveness at identifying maleness after Atlanta 1996, but the IBA won’t admit it. And considering their latest mess of a press conference, they would rather stay relevant with empty claims and unnecessary threats. Stop giving them the time of day! Listen to the podcast Tested instead for more info on this matter.

Imane Khelif and Lin Yu-Ting did not make the podium in Tokyo, but they will both leave Paris with their heads high up and medals hanging down their necks - all the while the likes of “fEmInIsTs” and bigots such as J.K. Rowling, Elon Musk, Donald Trump, and Logan Paul can only COPE AND SEETHE. Their victory is a victory for women, a victory for Algeria, a victory for Taiwan, and a victory for the boxing world that I never thought I’d care so much about.

I’m counting on Khelif and Yu-Ting to win gold and dunk on all the haters all over again. But respect to every other medalist in the welterweight tournament for being great sports - 🇨🇳 Yang Liu, 🇹🇭 Janjaem Suwannapheng, and our dearest Nien-Chin. You all deserve the podium! 💖💖💖

[solradguy]

I love the concept of werewolves but honestly there's just so much bad werewolf media out there to sift through. Vampires won out with a bajillion stellar Dracula adaptations, Carmilla, Nosferatu, Interview With The Vampire, and Lost Boys, and werewolves got, like, Mongrels by Stephen Graham Jones, An American Werewolf In London, and a side bit in the last half of that Hugh Jackman Van Helsing movie

[stars-and-clouds]

How to Curse Like an Ishgardian

I was coming up with ways to make my ishgardian characters swear and exclaim for my upcoming story and decided to share it =)

Some of these are my own, some are from the game itself and others are from others relevant media.

I read somewhere that when thinking of how to make curses and prayers think of what each culture values most and values the least. Whatever they value the most will be their prayer and the thing they least value will be their curses.

In Ishgard family name, religion and valor is valued the most. So, instantly, nameless people, bastard, orphans, heretics, rebels and cowardly people are looked down upon. This logic should help you make your own curses. You can also add some racist slurs against non-elezen and sometimes non-hyurian people. They also hate dragons, so pre-dragonsong war, a lot of dragon cursing would be common.

Small warning, some really foul language follows ahead. I will keep updating this list whenever I find new curses or come up with them.

1. Prayers, Exclamations and Blessings:

Halone, have mercy

Fury, save me

Halone, grant me strength

Halone's blessings be upon you

Halone/Fury, preserve me

Fury, guide me

Halone, shield me

Spear me, Halone!

Halone be praised!

By the Fury's fire!

By Her Lance!

By the Fury!

2. Insults:

Use these as an insult or add injury to another insult. For example, 'frostbitten whore,' or combine two insults like, 'nameless brume runt.'

frostbitten [insult]

'Greystone' in general can be used as an insult as bastards are really looked down upon. Haurchefant was very lucky to have a father like Edmont.

spoon ears; used against hyurs

Insults used against AuRi as superstitious Ishgardians believe them to be related to dragons:

wyrm fucker

scaled [insult]

dragonspawn

Mixed race couples are looked down upon in Ishgard so, their children face racism and bullying:

weakblood

mongrel

half-breed; all can be used to describe mixed blood.

knife ears; (stolen from Dragon Age) used against elezen

brume runt

street rat

highling; can be used to insult a highborn by a lowborn.

-your grandiosity; can be used to insult a highborn by a lowborn. You can be creative with these!

heretic

nameless [insult]; this is to imply that they do not belong to any house, not even a small one.

[ruling house name] leech; for example, a person sworn to house Durendaire to misuse their power, they can be called a 'Durendaire leech.')

[any house name] bootlicker; anyone who flatters and sucks up to nobles and those in power for their own benefit.

3. Exclamations and curses:

Shiva be damned!

voidspawn

Halone's tits!

Thordan's balls!

Fury strike you!

Holy Crozier!

wolves take you!

dragons take you!

Twelve curses upon you!

Fury's curses upon you!

Nophica be damned! ; Nophica and Halone didn't get along according to myth.

Godsdamnit!

Halone's cunt!

Please feel free to use them in your works! Happy writing! =D

[thenotoriouserg]

I am actually so genuinely anxious right now, but weirdly hopeful??

As heart wrenching as that interview was, we also have to appreciate the physical toll that Singapore takes on the drivers and tbh, I’d be a fucking mess if I was that hot, sweaty, dehydrated and had had a pack of media mongrels consistently talking insanely horrible shit about me for weeks (months? All season), too.

[cellsshapedlikestars]

do you plan out your stories in advanced or do you just start writing and hope for the best? I'm trying to get back into writing but I always end up completely deviating from any plan I made beforehand

My writing process is chaos, anon.

For a tl;dr: I just start writing and hope for the best

For a longer explanation of my process, see below the cut. Also, I feel dumb saying this, but spoilers for my own fics, especially the mysteries (which are better examples for plot planning than my romcoms)

1a) I get an idea, something super basic. Like, "time travel murder mystery" or "Sansa and Jon reluctant roommates". The idea then usually forms into a series of scenes or one particular scene in my head - for example: Sansa is dead, Jon goes to her funeral, later is questioned by police as a suspect, then time travel. Or, Sansa is already having a bad day and arrives at her brother's house only to find he's also letting his friend stay there and they were both unaware & kinda pissed about it, which starts them on the wrong foot as she threatens him with a knife.

1b) OR I watch a piece of media, go "wow they fumbled this great premise hard and I want to fix all the things I didn't like" and then I take the inciting incident and build my own story from there. (See: Doona. Business proposal is different, I actually liked the show, but Jon and Sansa did not fit the main leads' personalities so I had to change everything after the inciting incident. Plus I just find it more fun to come up with my own story than following the source material to a T)

2) this idea does not leave my brain, even if I want it to. I don't think you can force this step, tbh

3) I write a first chapter to get the idea/scene out of my head so I can get back to writing the story I'm already in the middle of. I post the chapter to exorcise it from my mind

4) this does not work

5) People in the comments are excited, which makes me excited! I obsessively think about it until I have a vague idea of how I want the story to go. Usually I have an end goal and some important story beats. Nothing is set in stone, and 99% of the time I don't even bother writing an outline, because I know I won't stick to it. The only "outlines" I make are just a string of ideas in the general order I want them to go in

6) I think of scenes I want, then work backwards to how to connect them

7) when I write a chapter, I know what I want the chapter end to be/the cliffhanger, and I write until I get there. Only once or twice have I had to cut chapters in two, but I try not to do this, even if the chapter ends up being pretty long.

8) sometimes you have to throw away ideas/scenes you thought were set in stone. Sometimes you start writing and those scenes Do Not Work anymore, and that's ok

For example, in mongrel heart, there was supposed to be this big, super dramatic showdown with Ramsay, like this big action movie scene. But when I got there, it felt totally wrong for the vibe of the story, so I went with a more intimate/personal final fight. The scene I had envisioned was totally gone. I had to add Oberyn kind of at the last minute, because I had come up with this elaborate world in the background, and needed to wrap that up.

For you on the run, I wrote the first chapter because "Sansa is kidnapped in a library" would not leave my head. I then posted it and had to scramble to come up with a plot. I knew the why, I knew I wanted it to be for Sansa's own safety, but WHO is out for her? I honestly don't think I decided for certain until she's back in winterfell.

In help me out of the shape I'm in, the bad guy was going to be ol' Bobby B, until I started writing chapter 4 when it switched to Joffrey because I had started fleshing out that case more and liked the horror of it being someone Sansa had "dated" more

Anyway, the gist is, I write as I go, and I go where the story takes me as I write. I'll be completely honest and say that a lot of the time, the excitement in the comments makes me excited to write and fuels my creativity. (this can backfire though. The few bitchy/negative comments on trojan horse kinda ruined the momentum for me on that one, which is why I'm not as actively writing it, despite REALLY liking it and thinking those comments were kinda dumb/narrow minded. And I'm not even talking about the rando anon who seems to have made it their mission to be negative on multiple jonsa fics, those people I don't even take into account. It was the ones from people who CANNOT escape a POV trap and make me so frustrated that I don't want to write anymore lol. I feel like how grrm must feel in these moments). But yes, the basic gist is: chaos and my obsessive brain that needs a creative outlet

I know this method isn't for everyone. I know there are authors out there who write an outline before they ever write a sentence, and they post their first chapter with the chapter count already out, bold and confident in their outline. This is not me. I could never aspire to this level of control

Anon, I hope you keep trying! Write those stories! Be creative! Remember the number one rule of fic: it's FUN, so have fun and write what YOU would want to read!

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

It’s amazing how fast people on this site will say the most racist ass ‘the chinks are in our computers watching us’ shit you’ve ever heard as soon as the prospect of the feds banning TikTok comes up, like great job you fucking mongrels you really showed how much better you are than us dirty chinamen, I’m sure you’d prefer if we were still carting nitroglycerin across mountain passes and dying at the ripe old age of 22.

legit. every social media app takes our data for who knows what and zeroing in on tiktok because "OH ITS CHINA THATS SO SCARY 😱" is just. weird behavior

[mightyflamethrower]

Old Clip of Morgan Freeman Talking About Black History Month Is Going Viral. It's Easy to See Why.

 2005 clip of Morgan Freeman is circulating on social media as Black History Month kicks off, showing the actor’s distaste for the time of the year when the contributions of African Americans to the U.S. are honored. 

Speaking to “60 Minutes,” Mike Wallace was taken aback by his reaction to Black History Month, which Freeman panned as “ridiculous.” 

“You’re going to relegate my history to a month?” he asks in the clip. “What do you do with yours? Which month is White History Month?”

Wallace pauses before telling Freeman he’s Jewish. The actor then asks if he’d like a Jewish History Month. 

Wallace says he does not. 

“Oh, why not? Why not? You don’t want one? I don’t either,” Freeman replies. “I don’t want a Black History Month. Black history is American history.”

“How are we going to get rid of racism?” Wallace wonders. 

"Stop talking about it. I'm going to stop calling you a white man," Freeman says to Wallace. "And I'm going to ask you to stop calling me a black man. I know you as Mike Wallace. You know me as Morgan Freeman. You wouldn't say, 'Well, I know this white guy named Mike Wallace.' You know what I'm sayin'?"

Freeman’s beliefs over the years have not changed. He spoke about how ‘insulting’ Black History Month is last year during an interview with  The Sunday Times. 

“Black History Month is an insult. You’re going to relegate my history to a month?” he said. 

“Also, ‘African American’ is an insult,” Freeman added. “I don’t subscribe to that title. Black people have had different titles all the way back to the n-word and I do not know how these things get such a grip, but everyone uses ‘African American’. What does it really mean? Most black people in this part of the world are mongrels. And you say Africa as if it’s a country when it’s a continent, like Europe.”

[wisconsin2002]

"VIVZIEPOP IS FATPHOBIC!"

Omg that sounds bad! What did she do?

"SHE DRAWS LITTLE AMOUNT OF FAT PEOPLE IN HER SHOWS AND SHE DRAWS THEM WEIRD!"

.....I beg your pardon?

"She barely draws fat people and she draws them weird. And she makes fat jokes in her shows"

..... Oh good fucking lord.

"Yeah so she's fatphobi-"

No you want to know what's fatphobic? The fact this is what yall wake up to first thing in the morning and get pissed about.

The fact you can look yourself in the mirror because you don't hate your reflection and your body reminding you of the trauma of the bullying you went through when you were just a little kid. And memories replaying that shit over and over again in your head even now in your fucking 20's!

Being envious of the motherfuckers who's only problem seems to be waking up everyday on this bullshit site and bring out their imaginary picket signs out on a cartoon instead of actúal in real life issues.

Fatphobia is waking up, going places and not knowing if you have motherfuckers talking mess behind your back or if someone's gonna just randomly start touching and mocking your body and calling you a whale or meatball.

Fatphobia is being told that you have people out there who stand with you and you believing them only for those people to point the blame at cartoons and the people who make them whose livelyhood is to create silly characters, stories and jokes for people to enjoy and entertain with!

Fatphobia are the fuckers on here who use their clear biases and feelings towards a person and use your issues and your trauma as a means to disguise themselves and start a spitefull movement towards the most miniscule shit.

The fatphobic assholes who bullied me didn't even watch cartoons. They were never set an example from that. You know who did watch cartoons and was set an example from it?

I DID! And never did they lead me to be a bigot or diversity hating, body shaming mongrel.

The people who bullied me were tho. And you know what DID set that example on them? FUCKING PARENTS! Ignorant ass teachers as well that saw you get kicked and punched to the ground and didn't do shit! And the assholes who told you to ignore all of that pain!

THAT'S where it starts and THATS where it continues!

Not with Vivzie. Not with her drawings or art NOT ANY OF THIS SHIT PEOPLE ARE SO TERMINALLY ONLINE OVER!

Vivziepop doesn't opress me! I DON'T EVEN KNOW HER!

Her cartoons don't opress me. They don't take away or cure any of the pain and traumatic memories and shit I went through.

Looking at this motherfucker doesn't opress me.

You want to know about Fatphobia? You actually want to give a shit? I promise you don't get the answer from obsessed Vivzie hate blogs that sit around like vultures and do nothing but wait for Vivz to show any sign of imperfection to strike down on her.

You get to know about Fatphobia from actually TALKING TO PEOPLE! IN THE REAL WORLD! Not the these motherfuckers who have a fetish to game over careers for irrelevant shit people did 30+ years ago. Go to any fat friends or fat family members, fat people you trust and ask them!

I know my time would be better spent watching paint dry than asking people on here to think logically. But this is one of the few issues in the Hellverse fandom that I can actually speak up about and man I had to.

With that being said. There's issues in media about how Fat people are always reduced to being one off flanderized background characters and while I don't take issue with that as much as others do, I think it's perfectly fine for people to ask and critique for more effort to be done in that regard. But I don't believe throwing fatphobia claims at artist and demanding change is the way to do it at all.

Anyways that's all I had to say, imma go touch grass now. I suggest some yall do the same.

[buffshipper8490]

Rated Mature

Chapter Summary

The Knights of Ren visit the Kuat Drive Yards; young Dade navigates the decrepit streets of Coruscant under the First Order’s oppressive rule; Chancellor Hux and the Supreme Council meet with the Warlord Cabal...

Excerpt

From his cushy office in the Capitol, Chancellor Armitage Hux watched with some satisfaction as the crowds below dispersed. It would be a quiet few days thanks to their swift action on Kuat. An execution always the best means of control, for a fearful populace was a compliant populace-- something his father both knew and appreciated. If only Brendol Hux could see him now. Armitage had accomplished more in his life at just thirty-six years of age than his father ever did during his accursed lifetime. Hux caught a glimpse of himself in the transparisteel and scowled. Premature grey streaked his once flaming red hair at the temples, giving him a resemblance to his father that was both uncanny and unwelcome. Still, he refused to dye it and he even smoothed it back, making sure it was presentable. He considered himself the true leader of the First Order, and a good leader led by example. The pit of Hux’s stomach churned with hate for Kylo Ren. Ren’s hair was the furthest thing from regulation. A small detail, to be sure, but details mattered, and this one represented everything Hux hated about Ren. He was the exception to everything. Outside the rules. Disordered. While Ren and his mongrel Knights gallivanted across the galaxy in search of the Jedi and their assorted kin of conjurers and soothesayers-- wasting the First Order’s time and resources-- Hux remained on Coruscant, keeping order and administrating. Their rebirth as an Empire had been achieved according to his design, not that overgrown man-child with a laser sword! When Hux finally took his rightful place as Supreme Leader, the first thing he’d do was make Ren cut off his hair. Or simply remove his head with the hair still attached. Boot heels clicking against the polished floor alerted him that he was no longer alone. “Chancellor? The Cabal requests a word with the Supreme Council," came the voice of his second in military command, General Enric Pryde. Hux’s face crumpled in distaste. Still, he followed the general down the hall to the War Room. "I trust the mission to Mustafar went smoothly, General Pryde?" asked Hux with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Pryde's lip curled. The older man had arrogant blue eyes and a high hairline that seemed immune to perspiration. "Yes, Chancellor. Leader Ren had opted to take the last leg of the journey to Exegol alone, however." Hux scoffed. “He’s gone mad,” the Chancellor said, the contempt in his voice obvious even to his own ears. “Flames of rebellion burn across the galaxy, and Ren chases a ghost.”

Likes ❤️ and Reblogs 🔁 are much appreciated!

[werecreature-addicted]

What are the shows or movies you’re currently watching? Also what’re your favorite horror/monster media?

currently, I'm mostly watching YouTube and Trigun 98. As for horror and monsters aaaaah where do I even start??

Ginger snaps, Nope, Silence of the Lambs (the book and the movie), in the same vein Hannaibl, Carrie, and IT (the book), Perfume story of a murder (the book) anything Mike Flanagan has ever done but ESPECIALLY Fall of the House of Usher.

For monster stuff, I really love Mongrels by Stephen Graham Jones, Ginger Snaps (again) The Shape of Water, Pan Labyrinth, The Lost Boys, Interview with a Vampire, and uh the Resident Evil games.

there's probably a lot more that I can't think of right now but those are the ones off the top of my head