#also having other people there to support you

[mav-erick]

haven't been to a concert in years and I want to so bad but I know it'll freak me the hell out

Being agoraphobic is so embarrassing. “I’ve really wanted to go to Target lately.” Brother, aim higher.

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

compiling some mutual aid projects and nonprofits working in sudan. though depending on where you get your news you may not see very much coverage of the unfolding crisis, millions of people are in danger every day as the situation continues to deteriorate. i've been really astounded by the scale of your response to the earlier list of gazan initiatives, and i hope you extend the same support to these organizations too!

khartoum aid kitchen - currently running 12 community kitchen sites and supporting five others that collectively provide food for over 10,000 people

fill a heart - provides financial support to sudanese hospitals and families displaced in egypt. updates are available on their instagram.

sudan solidarity collective - supporting civil society organizations and providing psychological and educational programs for displaced people. can also donate through their paypal

darfur women action - runs programs for displaced women and girls

sudanese american physicians association - provides medical treatment and supports healthcare infrastructure

amal for women - currently focused on providing water, food, hygiene products, and shelter for displaced people. general projects include education programs for children, support and professional training for single mothers, and providing trauma care. also has a gofundme

hadhreen - provides food, water, solar panels for hospitals, children's educational programming, and a variety of other support services

hometax - provides necessities for displaced people, including food, shelter, and medical assistance. updates can be found on their instagram.

barana hanabneiho - originally focused on rebuilding and equipping schools, currently providing food, water, tents, mosquito nets, and weather-appropriate necessities to displaced people. they have an instagram and also accept donations through zeffy

saving algeneina initiative - provides a variety of necessities, including food, rain covers for tents, and medical care. works with displaced people in both sudan and chad.

sudanese red crescent society - runs health programs across all 18 states as well as delivering essential supplies

sadagaat - various initiatives including water stations and community kitchens

hope relief and rehabilitation for disabilities support (hrrds) - originally focused on disability justice programs. currently providing food, water, hygiene products, mobility aids, and other necessities with a focus on supporting disabled people and other vulnerable groups

medglobal's sudan emergency appeal - provides medical supplies, equipment for doctors, and fuel for hospitals

sudanese american medical association - provides food, water, and medical equipment, as well as training clinicians and sending extra doctors to hospitals

siha network - provides menstrual products and obstetric/gynecological care

as before, this is not an exhaustive list, so please feel free to add any similar initiatives or organizations you know of. and as always please donate whatever amount you can and share! every small action makes a difference, even if it feels inconsequential to you.

[itgetsbetterproject]

On Trans Day of Remembrance, we honor the memory of those lost to anti-trans violence. We also asked our It Gets Better community what trans youth should remember, right here and right now. Here's what they said:

🏳️‍⚧️ "For my trans daughters and for every other trans person out there, You are perfect, perfectly perfect right now, in this messy moment, in this happy moment, in whatever moment comes next. You are loved by people you haven't even met yet. Do not get caught up in the hurt when there is so much joy to be found, do not let the noise hold you back, you are meant for greatness. For some greatness means waking up and having breakfast, going for a walk, doodling or thinking happy thoughts and that all in itself is great. Please believe me you are not alone." -lisasevajian

🏳️‍⚧️ "70 million people voted to protect your rights. You are valued. You are loved. Do not give up." -thethestralsociety

🏳️‍⚧️ "We have always been here, and we're not going anywhere anytime soon." -beansonofficial

🏳️‍⚧️ "You're seen. You're human. You are loved. You are not alone. Do not give up hope. You deserve all the best things in life and you should get to live them without fear, hate, guilt, harm, or silence." - destiny_d_melton

🏳️‍⚧️ "You are not alone even when it might feel that way. Things are hard and it can be so scary. But know that there are people who truly care who are fighting for you." -heatherand2girls

🏳️‍⚧️ "It gets better. Don’t give up. Gather the people you trust and support each other. You are a gift, you have a gift. Shine your light proudly and brightly. But know that you don’t need to. You are not responsible to change others perceptions or beliefs. You are loved, needed, and necessary." -michaeljohncreative

🏳️‍⚧️ "I love you so much and I will never cast you aside. You are NOT expendable." -fitnessvalkyrie

🏳️‍⚧️ "There is community out there for you always. Don't ever give up, we are here fighting with you." -transaffirmidaho

🏳️‍⚧️ "You only legally have to live with your bio family until you are 18, and then you can go make your own family. Also, high school only lasts 4 years. You can get through it!! It will be okay." -lisathecatdude

🏳️‍⚧️ "Keep going! As trans youth, we need to grow to be elders and to keep sharing our stories and to keep going!" -archer.39

🏳️‍⚧️ "Even in red states, you can find support and allies. We do care. Also, if you’re overwhelmed, it’s okay to focus on the community you feel safe with and take a mental break from advocating." - katseye325

🏳️‍⚧️ "We need you alive! You are our future. I made it to 29. You can be 29. My therapist is almost 60. You can be 60. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are our rights! You are seen, valued, heard, and loved." -Mr. Trans Indiana

🏳️‍⚧️ "Half this country still voted to support your rights! There are some loud voices spreading hate, but there’s so much more love out there. You have so much worth and value just being who you are. We’ll get through this and things will get better." -lady_hades_xiii

🏳️‍⚧️ "It will be worth it. All your struggle, all your pain. You’re going to get through this. It’s gonna be okay." -madd.0xx_

🏳️‍⚧️ "You are already role models to your peers, and to all the trans youth that come after you. You are the generation that will change the world, you already are the change the world needs…and your trans-aunty will always be here to support you, as my trans role models did for me. We are a family; dynamic, diverse, and inclusive: welcome to the family." -mxashleys

Read more and add your own here.

[lurks-no-more]

Also - there being problematic stuff in the art or the books or the shows you like does not automatically mean you should drop them, or that you are a bad person. You just have to consider things and come to

For example: Howard Phillips Lovecraft is a seminal writer of weird fictio, who has influenced and shaped the fantasy, horror and SF genres, and the general pop culture, of the 20th century like few others. He was also an extremely racist neurotic weirdo, whose most powerful stories are inescapably rooted in his xenophobia and visceral fear of corruption from within. But he's been dead for close to a century, and all of his works are in public domain. So, if you want to read the HPL originals, you can do so with clear conscience, and if you don't, there are plenty of modern authors who are playing with the concepts and tropes he used in a non-bigoted ways, or actively deconstructing and engaging with the early-20th century bigotry that was prevalent in the works of HPL and so many other weird fiction writers.

For another example: JK Rowling is the well-known author of the massively successful and popular Harry Potter books, which have spawned movies, games, toys and various spin-offs. She is also a loathsome transphobe, who is actively using her massive wealth and connections to push for harmful policies and politics in the UK and worldwide. If you spend any money on any HP products - books, games, movies etc. - a portion of that is funneled to JKR, who will be using it to hurt trans people. Everyone must, of course, do their own ethical calculus, but I do think that nobody who cares about trans rights should watch the coming HP series, or buy any related merchandise. Where you draw the line on fanart and fanmade stuff is a trickier decision, but it has to be remembered that JKR has in the past said that she sees people supporting Harry Potter as supporting her.

To summarize: this stuff is complicated and nothing is pure unproblematic good or pure bad, but there are still degrees of good and bad, the context matters an awful lot, and everyone should have lines they won't cross.

my friends, it is not illegal to recognize there are problematic elements to the content you enjoy. it’s called critical thinking. you can enjoy something and not turn a blind eye to the shit wrong with it. 

[knownoshamc]

sorry not sorry to bring this up again, but

Netflix removed Palestinian movies. They (movie/tv industry) fired Melissa Barr.era, a latina actress that spoke against the genocide. They kept actors from St.ranger Thin.gs even though they openly support the genocide. They cut the scenes of May Cala/mawy, a Palestinian/Egyptian actress from a major movie. Those are the examples of the top of my head. Keeping Assad Zaman's name (a non christian name) out of the press/promotion and now out of the nomination, despite the fact that he had much more screen time than Sam, who will also be the lead the next season (so plenty time for him to shine), is just... not a coincidence.

And I don't think anyone in the US, or the world for that matter, doesn't know about these things happening, if not in the movie/tv industry, but in the world (US support of I.srael for example). So I can't accept that people that don't get (to put it mildly) why people find problematic that Assad is not nominated... don't fully know what's up. Just because some people want to pretend Assad is not a South Asian/Bengali Muslim, but a white Christian American/Brit, it doesn't make it so.

[sotc]

what's it like being a guy who witnessed the deaths of those he loved taken from him at a young age and has spent his whole life since training to be an assassin and resigning himself to believing dealing death was all he was good for. being a guy who believed his life was always forfeit, the thought of wanting a fuller, different life beyond duties and expectations set for him was out of the question and death was his only escape. what if this guy goes through the most grueling torture hellscape of a prison for what seems like eternity until someone saves him. then this guy comes back and he learns his grandmother is gone and the threat of losing his cousin looms in the back of his mind but he has a world to save in the midst of all that so he offers his services to focus on settling a debt. now this guy is working alongside the team for some time and he starts to grow close (maybe more than he realizes but we'll get to that). finally the big moment to take down one of the gods comes and when the team needs him most, the plan goes awry and he misses his shot. now this guy isolates himself to sit alone with his demon(s), grueling and agonizing over every possible scenario of how it could've been different and how he could've done better, should've done better. except, what if you are a guy who also maybe doesn't realize it isn't simply a bruised ego about being 'whatever else i am, i'm a professional'. what if maybe you're a guy who believed if he can't employ that one skill he knows how to do - dealing death - to protect the ones he cares about, and save them and the world - what does he have left? what good is he for?

and then you have THIS:

coming from the man who is/was plagued by self doubt about his own self worth and abilities yet was willing to be so supportive of you!? coming from the man who begins to realize he can be there in other ways for the people he cares for beyond simply being a weapon??? honestly this man makes me feel ill. i love him.

[nqueso-emergency]

What did Lou do?

If it was the memes, than none of these people would stay fans of OS and *especially* RG. So it's not that.

Is it the fact he made Cameos ? Can't be that since Gavin is also on there.

Is it that he openly shared his personal headcanon about the character he was portraying? No, because nothing he said was offensive or negative and he never misled anyone about it being his personal pov.

Is it that he's disliked by the cast? Obviously not given the very sweet and positive things Tracey, Aisha, and several other cast members have said about him.

Is it the fact that people say he's a Trump supporter despite zero evidence? Definitely not because you could just as easily assume that about RG given his history (and current IG follows).

Is it that he gives interviews and answers questions honestly about being disappointed in the storyline for a character he cares deeply about? He was already off the show at that point so what is there to be mad about? Also, he's right, it was an unsatisfying ending. So can't be that. Is it because you still genuinely think he was the one to post some bizarro kpop meme to a hyper specific fandom account, yet there's no screenshot? Or that he hacked someone? No one can be that gullible.

Is it because you saw him liking fan art and tattoos? Nah. There are whole accounts dedicated to celebrating every time RG and OS like or comment on fan works.

Is it because he's in secret psychic communication with BT nation and whenever our antennas go boop it's a new message from him about which hashtag to post on IG? Now that's just silly. Is it because Lou portrayed a character that threatened the fanon ship you've based your entire identity on and you aren't mature enough to deal with those emotions without turning someone into a cartoon villain?

Such a mystery. lmk what you think in the comments!

🤭

[sillimancer]

It's Transgender Day of Remembrance so I'm treating myself to another reblog of this.

Hi! I'm Kerrigan (they/them), a nonbinary/trans disabled person going through a hard time. I'm finishing up a data analytics program (this is the last week in fact!) but am struggling to find work. I currently have $600 in bills for the rest of the year and about $600 in my bank account, so I should be fine as long as nothing bad happens at all and I hear back from the part-time service jobs I've been interviewing for. Which is. Better than I was a couple weeks ago (shoutout to my friends who raised a little something earlier for me this month) but still far from comfortable.

If YOU would like to finance some additional peace of mind for me, you can do so through my ko-fi:

You can also support me and other trans people by eating a billiona- (I am forcibly removed from the stage)

How about we just have like... hey trans people, post your pay links or wishlist or whatever you got. No limits, no trans excluded, intersex welcome, any and all genders off the social conventions included. I'll just reblog em a bunch.

I need a reblog to share your info, please use those, not comments or tags. I try to reblog immediately every instance I see between 10am and 10pm, everything else goes into the queue.

Additionally, Reddit has some donation resources, which are outlined and linked in this post. However, there are potential difficulties associated with these resources, with more details in this post.

Potentially useful links as I find them: Guide to Fundraising.

[dearlyya]

TIL’ WE MEET AGAIN | Young!Silco x Fem!Reader

Chapter One-Persistence; When a coward turns hero.

Warnings; Angst, pre-canon, hurt/comfort, Zaunites, Piltians, revolution, violence, blood, gore, drinking, smoking, gambling, swearing, sex, brothels, drugs, slow burn, the reader is a coward at first, original character (Wynn), strangers to lovers, bittersweet, Old Silco being weirdly sentimental, Jinx being noisy, and major character death.

A/N; I don’t do taglists, sorry. I also want to thank my friend for supporting my writing, proofreading, and character creation of Wynn. Love you, bro.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

Undercity is considered an industrial stain nestled beneath the grand city of Piltover.

With air that hangs heavy, and its people feral. Towering smokestacks belch black smoke into the already smog sky, casting long shadows over the cramped alleyways and buildings. The streets are strewn with discarded scrap metal, chemical waste, and other debris of the relentless production that drives the Undercity's economy. 

The warm green glow of the gas lamps casts an eerie, shimmering light over the buzzing market stalls and their wares. Cautious eyes dart about, gripping the crate tightly, as your knuckles white with tension. You trudge through the damp, uneven cobblestone path. Your heavy boots thud, but the market muffles the sound. Wynn strides ahead of you, his boysenberry hair reflecting the green making his hair almost black.

Both of you carry large, sloshing crates of alcohol that clink and bounce with each jostle from the crowded lane. Your tattered cloak draped your form, the hood pulled low to fight against the season's coldness and obscure your face from the lingering enforcers.

You instinctively glance at the enforcers standing near a stall, their voices raised in angry conversation with the stall’s owner, who appears equally irritated. They are likely issuing citations for illegal imports or contraband. Detailed by the other armored man holding up a list and pointing at the merchandise. However, when the vendor suddenly shoves one of them, you quickly avert your gaze, choosing to ignore the escalating commotion and focus on navigating the crowded marketplace.

Fighting wasn’t something you could do against the enforcers unless you’d want a hefty prison sentence or killed. So, you allow them to conduct their inspections and searches, gritting your teeth if their hands linger on your body for far too long.

You did dream of something better, a fictional land where all is peace and harmony, but that's wishful thinking. Life gave the Undercity people the short end of the stick, so now all you want is to keep your life, provide some aid to wanders, and of course keep the tavern: The Last Drop. Afloat.

Some vendors attempt to grab your attention, but you politely shake your head. Keep your eyes trained on Wynn who glides through the people with ease. You stumble and slip between people straining to keep up with your friend. Cursing under your breath at the fact that you could’ve gotten your supply runner to fetch the cargo, but no. Coins have been getting slimmer and slimmer at the drop. One of the many reasons why your resentment, once directed at the enforcers, began to shift towards the rebels who fought against them. While their cause was just, their tactics often made life even harder for the ordinary citizens of the Undercity. Strikes, protests, and their thievery disrupted supply lines which left families and businesses like yours struggling to make ends meet. Of course, this is only rooted in fear. 

Fear of losing more.

The mines that delve deep into Runeterra. Extracting precious minerals to fuel the insatiable demand. Workers in harsh conditions, their health and safety were often sacrificed for the sake of profit. Stark contrasts the cutting-edge innovation of Piltover ‘coexisting’ with the rampant corruption and exploitation they cause the city below them.

Down in the fissures, where deep cracks in the earth have split open, a treacherous underground network of tunnels and caverns caused by the relentless mining and drilling operations. Was bustling with the activity of workers, faces smeared with grime.

You and your father worked in those mines, and many families did. Your life narrowed down to one moment. A vivid horrible memory. You knew you should’ve put up a fight, and struggled against the enforcers alongside the others. When the tears finally spilled over, streaming down your face in hot, bitter rivulets. You couldn’t help but cower. You remember his body and the way the world seemed to tilt and spin around you.

When you pushed yourself up, letting go of a rusty pickaxe. A strong arm shoved you roughly back to the ground. It sent shockwaves through your malnourished body. Your coal-covered glove scraped against the unforgiving, rocky ground as you trembled uncontrollably, shaking like a frightened animal.

A cacophony of screams and desperate cries pierced everyone's ears like shards of glass. Through ‘The Gray’ smog you saw people–workers–were fighting against the enforcers with a fury born of desperation, their voices raw as they tried to reach your father, who was knelt on the ground, clutching the back of his head. Blood, vivid red against the rocks, drips steadily from his fingers, staining the earth beneath him. A macabre work of art. The sight of it sears itself into your mind, something you still see to this day.

Your wide eyes locked onto your father, drinking in every detail of his face, committing it to memory, as the screams and shouts faded into a distant, muffled hum.

He met your gaze, his expression was steady and calm despite the chaos that raged around you. He's trying so hard not to look frightened, putting on a brave face for your sake. He gulped, and in that tiny gesture, you saw the truth of his fear reflected in his eyes. But there's something else there too, a silent message of love and reassurance that told you that everything will be okay, that he'll protect you no matter what happens to him. 

But the man behind him, the one through the smog, the one who raises his gun high above his shoulder–tells a different story. The gun glints harshly reflecting off the gold on the enforcer. Quick to get to your knees, a firm kick sends you forward along with a harsh boot on your back keeps you in place. You cried out at the pressure, as you squirmed to get closer to your father. 

It's a swift blow, brutally efficient in its execution. The butt of the gun connected with the back of his head with a nauseating crack, and he crumpled to the ground. He fell face-first onto the unforgiving rocks. His body would twitch, but the last sliver of life drained away in an instant. You barely heard the final, choked-off words that he never got to finish. His last confession of "I love you" was stolen away by the cruel hand of fate.

Your breathing gets heavy when you remember, each intact a painful reminder of the life that still flows through your veins, even as everything else feels cold and numb. You shakily grip the case. It takes a special kind of strength, and true courage to stand up despite others bringing you down, to crush your hopes and dreams beneath the weight of their fears and insecurities.

You're not sure what you believe in anymore. That day the foundations of your world were shaken when the very ground beneath your feet shifted and crumbled, leaving you feeling lost and adrift in a sea of uncertainty before you were taken by the hand and brought up to a raft. You’ll always be grateful to Wynn. Though, all you know is that life is rather unfair, especially in the Undercity, and all you want to do is survive. Is that selfish? 

Perhaps you are one of those pushovers.

You were too lost in thought when you got pushed to the side, sending you to your left, and letting go of the crate to catch your fall, gritting your teeth you look up but notice it’s those same enforcers now carrying off that vendor's supplies. The one that shoulder checks you, gives you a look, and even with its helmet on you can tell that they’re testing your reaction. You look down at your crate. It’s open and bottles–thankfully not broken–have rolled out.

Maybe you've always been that way, content to let others make the decisions, to follow the path of least resistance rather than forging your way forward. But with the aftermath of your father's lifeless body that laid before you and the weight of powerlessness bearing down on your shoulders, you can't help but wonder if there isn't more to you than that.

Maybe, deep down, buried beneath the layers of fear and self-doubt, there is a spark of courage waiting to be ignited, a flicker of determination that just needs the right circumstances to flare into life.

You carefully lift each bottle to the crate, ensuring they are securely packed. Reaching for a bottle of scotch, your hand accidentally brushes against its neighbor, sending the bottle rolling away. It clicks and clanks across the cobblestone path before disappearing into the shadows of a nearby alley.

You pause, considering whether to retrieve the wayward bottle, but the risk of Wynn ringing your neck for wasting good money has you sighing. A broke bitch during inflation is someone you don’t want to mess with. You continue to pack the remaining bottles and get back to your feet, crate in arms.

No one notices you entering the alley, with your head hanging low. 

The ground is littered with discarded metal scraps, used needles, and unidentifiable substances. Peering from beneath your hood, you scan the area for any sign of the missing bottle, but your search becomes useless. Instead, you hear labored breathing and pained grunts from further down the narrow way. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the scene before you. The glint of gold and blue uniforms mingles with the tattered red of the man's clothing. The sight is all too familiar. The enforcers’ figures huff up and down, laughing at each other in cruel satisfaction as they rain down blows on the man. Their boots connected with sickening thuds against his bloodied body. You can’t tear your eyes away from them. 

The right circumstance is all someone needs.

“Look at you, pathetic like the rest of those revolutionaries. You’re nothing but a filthy rat scurrying in the gutters and trash of refined people.” One of them coo, tilting their head at the body, you step closer.

You should move on, and let them take this man’s life if need be, so you can slip by unnoticed. It would be far more understandable than helping someone out of the kindness of your heart, but you have never felt such a surge of emotion before. The impending doom that bloomed in your gut yelling in your ear with a booming voice telling you that if you didn’t help this man you’d truly be the vermin that topside thinks you are. You can’t explain it to yourself, all your bitter-laced words and morals clashed when you heard them throwing those humiliating remarks. 

The right circumstance is all she needed.

The enforcers continue to beat him. You don’t think very much, the few thoughts that pass your mind are typically about personal survival, so thinking about beating these men into a pulp like they are with your fellow scum has you dropping the crate and racing towards them. Your heart is in your ears, bile backing up in your throat, as your coat flies off you. The knife you grip sinks into the nearest Piltie. Into their exposed armor between the helmet and chest plate. An honest, lucky blow to the neck.

He yelps, stopping his assault to cradle the wound that spurts blood between his gloved fingers. He staggers away as the other enforcer finally grasps the situation. With your dagger in the side of the other guy's neck, you quickly skimmed around the alley looking for a possible weapon, you spotted the bottle but you weren’t quick enough. The intact enforcer rushed at you and slammed you against the brick wall of a building. Your head hits it roughly dazing you. Your windpipe closes up when the enforcer pushes your throat with his forearm. His metal suit cuffs dig into your skin. You're frantic now. 

Shit–you didn’t think this through. Death was now a concrete possibility, and dying next to the man you tried so hard to save felt like the greatest irony. The pain shooting through your neck grew unbearable, causing tears to well up and cascade down your cheeks, despite the insults being thrown your way.

On this final night alive, you admit to yourself that you might have cared about the revolution after all. Your body was lifted off the ground, dangling up near this blue and gold-clad man. Both of your hands grip his gloves, trying to cause any damage by digging your nails into him. More tears roll. You weren’t crying because your own life was flashing before your eyes, but because you couldn’t save a symbol. A figure of hope.

The enforcer that you stabbed lays slumped against a gross dumpster, his hand weakly clawing at the stab wound in his neck. Crimson blood seeped through his armor, staining it a dark, glistening red. He twitched and spasmed as blood continued to spurt from the exposed injury. Despite everything a pang of guilt flickered in your chest. You had never taken a life before. Your gaze drifted to his neck, and realization dawned on you–your dagger was missing. As you slipped in and out of consciousness, the grip on your neck loosened.

The enforcer collapsed on top of you, pinning you beneath his weight as he sank to the ground his body took you with it. You coughed and gasped, and with a wave of nausea rising in your throat and bobbing pain around it you pushed the body off you. Looking up, you met the gaze of the man you had ‘saved’. He was huffing heavily, his eyes wide and wild mixed with shock on his pale face. 

Drenched in blood, sweat, and sporting bruises all over. His long hair clings to his face, some falling out of the low ponytail. His dark red tunic under a dirty gray cut-off vest. His body quivering on the brink of exhaustion. His gaze was glossy, only fueled by the last dose of adrenaline. With a final stumble, he crumpled to the ground. The knife in hand slipped away as he fell. You stare. Watching him lay defenseless, a newfound courage stirred within you, and for once in your life you know your stance. Now not cowering and licking the boots of those higher than you. You own up to the consequences, yet you still tremble. Your chest rose and fell with the rhythm of your heightened adrenaline as the footsteps of additional enforcers echoed.

You crawl to him, lowering yourself to his chest, and pray you still hear a heartbeat, and you do, it’s faint. Now kneeling, you carefully hoist his right arm over your shoulder, providing support for him to lean on. He was heavy, but his weight wasn’t overwhelming, allowing you to walk slowly with him. It was clear that he needed medical attention, and so did you. You can feel the cold blood dripping down the back of your head and the tight, painful bruise forming around your neck. You aren’t some hero, a normal citizen in a position of life and death—you’ll never become a foundation of hope in your city like in your childhood. 

And she never does. 

Your experience as a kid had given you an edge, as you used to steal from stalls and run away as they tried to chase you. Now, at the age of twenty, you thank your young self for your knowledge of the best shortcuts. It comes in handy when you hide with the unconscious man by your side, evading the enforcers who finally notice their dead brothers. From around the corner, you watch a group of them trek down the main street. You make your dash to the other side, going unnoticed.

“I got you, we’re almost there” Your voice croaks, not sure if you are trying to reassure the blacked-out man or yourself, probably the latter. There's a sign, not from Janna, but from The Last Drop. Dipping into the alley next to the tavern you head around back. Your arm that is wrapped around his slim torso is drying with his blood. More blood pools on your shoulder from his broken nose. You have to prop him up on the wall to open the cellar doors, and you both descend. 

Storage racks and unopened boxes flitter the basement. However, in the corner is a cot and stool. It’s the small medical area that you would use to aid people, usually, it was for small wounds like someone with a busted lip because they got into a fight in the bar.

So, with an injured rebel who hangs on your shoulder, you are well below practice. You manage to push the battered man off you and onto the cot. He slumps halfway off the bed, so you gently roll him back, carefully lifting his legs one by one to fully position him on the cot. Your hands tremble slightly as you work, the adrenaline running thin. 

You run a hand over your hair, feeling the back of your skull. As you bring your hand back to your eyes, you’re met with deep red staining your fingers. Your wound hits you, and you finally grasp the pounding headache you have. You slowly sit on the stool beside the cot.

“Shit” You mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, despite your possible concussion your priority is the very wanted rebel to your left. Take a deep breath to steady yourself and assess him.

His chest heaves in sparse, and uneven breaths through his busted nose. He’s still grasping onto the little energy his body has left to give. You rub up the bridge of your nose. The gravity of harboring a wanted revolutionary is not lost on you. Though at this moment, all that matters is saving his life, and not falling over while doing it. 

You lean onto your elbows while sitting, glancing at the empty bucket and washcloth, getting ready to work.

[eliossun]

LAST SHOT - first meet

synopsis : interning at a random ship in space sounds like a great idea for your paper. don't you think? part -> 1 2 3 ?

characters : anya, swansea, daisuke, curly, jimmy, gn!reader (daisuke x reader if u squint)

content : filler. lots of filler. lots of people being people. the series is sort of a fix it fic (?) only warning is mention of.. jimmy... eugh

wc : 3.4k+

before you read, reader is : cold, non expressive, and a psychology major...

close to an oc.. but also not an oc? features of the reader is never described, and i wrote it as gender neutral as possible

- you were an intern in the pink pony express.

- .. more specifically, a university student with honours in their bachelor's degree in psychology. you did plan on going back to get a masters once you're done with this internship. the pay wasn't much, but since it covered your living expenses for a year, and since the internship being valid enough to put into a research paper (after confirming there's psychological tests in the ship) you say this wouldn't be so bad. 

- ..or so you thought.

- the first day you boarded the ship, you were baffled by the lack of security measures of what, or what you can't bring to the spaceship. sure there were manuals, but the actual boarding of the ship? no security, at all.

- you knew the conditions that the company puts their employees in from online forums.. so you tried to prepare beforehand with a backpack. woo! (it took you hours to recount your basic needs)

- you managed to sneak on board your little backpack (it was huge) and thankfully, you managed to stash it away in your room before anyone else noticed. 

- .. and thankfully the directions were easy to read as well, otherwise you'd be lost.

- you don't want to bring all that around the tour of the ship either, so this would be the most efficient solution.

- pretending to be waiting in front of the ship unnoticed was also easy. however, imagine the surprise when another intern trips into the spaceship, last second.

- the captain - you find his name to be curly, only managed to give you a brief welcome, before asking the nurse of the ship - she introduced herself as anya - to show you around.

- whilst going around, the other intern tried to start conversations with you. which briefly went as follows:

"hey! my name's daisuke, yours?" 

"y/n."

"woah! cool name!"

"..."

"..not much of a talker...it seems... hehe.."

- you only nod in response. 

- anya seems to have read the room, and immediately guided you away to introduce you to two other people instead. swansea the mechanic, and jimmy, the copilot.

- however the atmosphere persisted. you stayed in silence most of the time. daisuke was close to starting another conversation with you, but seemed to back out last second.

- you feel rather bad for being cold towards him. but your body is way too exhausted to respond. maybe you should’ve brought some painkillers as well..

- ... or perhaps you could pay off your sleep debt on this trip as well. ahh… a faithful wish..

- that aside, you also found out you would be interning under anya. she was soft spoken, and overall, you have a feeling that you wouldn't mind sticking by her side for the next.. year.. or so.

- having a singular nurse for a 6-man crew isn't too bad. but now with her teaching you the basics, you think that you’re capable of taking some of her responsibilities. (you're glad to take some weight off her back)

- you agreed on weekly psych checks with the crew (much to swansea’s and jimmy’s dismay) so you’re ready to keep your journal very, very filled.

- the routine was simple. you'd wake up, check your stash of items which included - airtight sealed snacks which consisted of a lot of sweets, your journal, a lot of thrifted power banks for your ds to charge on, your ds of course, a taser, a gun, and a personal emotional support voicemail on one of your mp3 player - then go into the lounge for breakfast, and finally, follow anya around for the rest of your day.

- sometimes you would bump into swansea and daisuke while you're passing by the utility room. and sometimes daisuke stops you for a small talk

- you eventually warm up to him. he's awfully smiley for someone close to your age, then you find out he doesn't go to college, and your question was quickly answered. 

- after a bit more small talk, you realise that you both were from the same town (what a small world)

- he mentions that he missed eating a specific candy - it’s called sunshines, silly name, you know - which you could only get from the bakery near your town, and you look away, fully knowing that you had the same candy in your bag.

- .. oh well. maybe another time.

- your interactions with swansea was rather limited.

- you both see each other and simply choose to ignore each other's existence.

- perhaps it's a part of you that sees through him. and he sees through you too. 

- silent understanding is a better word, perhaps. 

- you both only talked on the few occasions where you were there to take your psychology evaluation tests. he keeps complaining about daisuke and whatnot - but you know that look in his eyes. that’s not hate.

- after a while, he stops complaining - resorting to grunts and short answers. perhaps tired of attempting to trick you.

- quick yet blunt. the way you prefer things to be.

- you sometimes offer to read out daisuke’s psych test to him. only the parts where you deem as okay to say, though. mostly parts where you ask how his internships are, and him answering with praises towards swansea. 

- swansea refuses each time, but you read some of them anyway. when daisuke complains about swansea though, you read out his response to "how was your day". which mainly consisted of his joys of the day.

- swansea pretends he doesn't like it. once again, you know that look in his eyes.

- you thought he would be done with acting around you, but you suppose, ego can't be beaten sometimes

- you really like their father-son-like dynamic. you just hope daisuke doesn't let the old man's words get to him.

- after doing curly's and jimmy's psych test (jimmy needed a lot of convincing in order for him to take these seriously) you find that they were friends that go way, way back.

- you're unsure if curly could see it, but you could tell that jimmy admires him. that man admires curly a bit too much. you're familiar with situations like these. you just hope it won't tip towards envy. oh who you were kidding - it's almost too late now.

- you finally realise why you felt uncomfortable around jimmy after the first month.

- the envy and self depreciation is overwhelming, and you truly applaud anyone who holds a conversation for longer than five minutes. (maybe you should applaud yourself as well)

- self destruction is the only path he’s going towards, and you would help him if he wasn’t so.. stubborn. for a lack of a better word.

- but overall, this trip isn't too bad so far. right?

- its been a month and a half. 

- you and anya had formed some sort of sibling relationship..? 

- it started with her seeing one of your stickers you had placed on one of your items, and her nostalgia of having them on her cup as well.

- you both began to talk more from there. continuous stories about your daily life (which isn’t the most pleasant) but you got to know each other better from there.

- you were immediately stunned at her determination and passion for nursing. - and perhaps, after this all, you could plausibly send a recommendation in for her. 

- you didn’t tell her that, of course. you weren’t able to guarantee it, and you wouldn’t want to give false hope.

- you find that she was incredibly good at games after you lent her your ds. and all of sudden, her competitiveness on game board nights didn’t look so out of place after all.

- she had encouraged you to get out of your shell.. despite many protests from you. (it.. sort of works…?)

- curly, after more interactions, seems to be a great guy. great leader, optimistic despite.. well. everything else, really. you’d be miserable if you had to live outside of earth half your life.

- the very brief interactions you have with him were pleasant. 

- a bit concerning to think he’s carrying all this responsibility for all these years though. perhaps a little rest could do - is what you said.

- he only responded with a chuckle, and a ‘it is what it is’.

- there isn’t any other response you would’ve expected from him, anyway.

- you just hope that once he does find the end of this career, he’ll find something more.. lighter.

- maybe a baker. maybe a craftsman. maybe something else entirely, all you know that this whole leadership thing might end up causing him more harm than good.

- which is what jimmy turned out to be. 

- whenever it’s your turn to do jimmy’s evaluations, you always groan a bit. 

- you show a bit of interest, and he goes the mile to talk about himself. not quite boasting - but very much putting others beneath his shoes to seem… “relatable” to you.

- you only nod. you give him a small phrase from time to time, but otherwise - it’s all nods.

- the issue with jimmy is not his current state itself. sure, it’s annoying and insufferable - but what’s dangerous is next stage of what people like him become.

- envious. greedy - dangerous. you wouldn’t trust him even if it kills you.

- and so you don’t. you try to keep a wary gaze on him.

- another thing you find that swansea is quite similar to .. other people in your neighbourhood.

- he talks about how he’s been struggling with alcohol, on a particularly hard night.

- you listen. he keeps talking. you add on his statements a little bit from time to time, to show that you’re listening. otherwise, you’re dead quiet, eyes staring at him, and his eyes towards the false sky by the medical bed. 

- he complains to you more than anything though. about.. nearly everything. about how daisuke won’t do this properly, about the food for dinner, about him being unable to see his wife at home, how he won’t be able to see his kids grow up, and you, in exchange, tell a bit about yourself.

- he understands you; and you understand him too. you were both trapped under the same situation at the start of your lives, and you, by chance, managed to escape. 

- he makes a joke about it. it leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth. 

- …although.. this meant that you were a bit privileged in the way swansea treated you. 

- this showed in the way that he allows you to mess with his toolbox (maybe you were the only other person who was interested in his toolbox, aside from daisuke..) 

- he teaches you the basics, and daisuke often chimes in from what he had studied before from swansea as well.

- you often thank the two for the lesson, and swansea seems a bit more smug after, whilst daisuke seems more proud of himself.. and due to that, you are more than welcome in the utility room.. from time to time.

- ah, speaking of daisuke..

- he’s incredibly sweet. you wonder if he particularly needs the sweets anymore from how overly sweet he is. you do end up sharing your snacks either way, and thankfully, he’s obedient enough to only request one sunshine every one to two days. (at this rate, you might have just enough to last you the entire.. 9 months? close to 8 now..) 

- he also plays games, and showed you his own ds, stickers of pokemon, doodles, and small little things indicating his other interests were plastered all over it - which you end up telling anya. 

- this is where anya’s willingness to help you connect with others come in. 

- not before long, you, anya, and daisuke managed to make a post-game night activity.. which included playing the ds until you all reach the specific curfew anya had set (thankfully, she did set one, otherwise daisuke would’ve tried to beat you until his fingers fell off.)

- there was one time that he was too tired, and you had to drag him back into his room. with an arm slinged around your shoulder, and anya following behind in your footsteps, he stayed asleep the entire time.

- he wasn’t drunk. hell, do you even have alcohol in the ship? the answer was no. unless you were to drink cleaning alcohol.. but point is. he didn’t get drunk, and he was just that tired. you wonder what kind of new training he’s been trying to do.

- you tried your best to drag him, but once you were beside his bed, you had only one choice.

- you slowly placed him back into his bed, lifting his leg up to remove his shoes - before placing him properly on the bed.

- anya had already excused herself back to her room, and with the silence (and occasional snores from daisuke), you find yourself observing daisuke’s room.

- pink weights, a very, very patterned backpack, and a charger. those were the main things that caught your eyes. 

- .. and you had his ds in your hand. so out of kindness, you went over to plug in his ds for him.

- before you left him alone, you checked up on him for the last time. he’s sleeping soundly. you try to close the door as silently as possible.

- you hope he continues to dream tonight.

- so far the worst thing you had to witness from the male was the absolute mess that was his laundry pile. 

- it started when you - whose room was beside daisuke’s - smelt something akin to the concentrated scent of the (sun) detergent.

- you knocked at his door, and only a muffled wait echoes inside, before you could hear him tripping over his own feet to open the door.

his eyes meet yours - looking quite frazzled. He’s heaving slightly, perhaps a side effect of rushing to get the door.

“h..hi!”

the detergent smell only got stronger, and it became very much obvious that he.. had a little accident with the laundry. your focus flickers between the mess he is, and the mess behind him.

“...did anything happen?”

he chuckles nervously, avoiding eye contact.

“oooff course not! and i almost forgot that i had to- uhm- change my sheets! so see ya soo-”

right as he was about to shut the door, you had kept it wedged open with your shoes. his eyes actually meet yours, again, and you tilt your head slightly, arms folding.

“i can smell it from the hallway. let me help you.”

“no- i can do it!”

you send him a particular stare. it seems to make him falter, and you sigh once more.

“let me help you.”

he looks hesitant, his grip on the handle weakening. a moment passes, and then he closes hie eyes, and smiles at you - defeated.

“alright then... but don't be angry!”

- as you step in the room, you’re met with the sight of.. very, very many bubbles on a stack of clothes. 

- and when you look back at daisuke, he only offers you a guilty grin, and a look that said i told you so

- that’s the story of how your fingers managed to smell like detergent for a whole week, and the event that hallmarked your almost instant closeness with daisuke.

- ever since the laundry accident, you two have been together quite often.

- every lunch break was simply just sitting alone, until anya or daisuke approaches you. If anya approached first, then daisuke followed. if anya couldn’t join you in the lounge, then you’d go to the medical bay, and if you’re allowed in - daisuke would follow right after.

- everytime you manage to get spare time to lounge on the extended sofa, daisuke immediately joins you. the only difference from before was the way he joins you on the couch. sometimes by closing your eyes from behind and asking you to guess (even when it’s apparent), sometimes by jumping or launching himself to the spot beside you.

- every now and then, he scares the living soul out of you. he laughs until you start chasing him with a cup in your hand.

- he tries his best to make you laugh. the best he got so far was an amused stare from you.

- apparently, it’s good enough for him. he cheered the entire night you made that expression.

- on his psych tests, he talks a lot.

- there’s.. not much time to talk to you. you only realise once he starts to talk about his week, instead of his day. 

- nowadays, you focus on getting your analysis done. how each person’s behaviour have changed - in general, of course. you’re not going to mention their every detail, and rather, you ask them to fill out little questionnaires (which is the only detail you’re submitting)

- usually, before you got close, he mainly talks about his day, and only his day. 

- sure you spent a lot of time together, but since this was the only chance to be truly alone, it’s usually the time that he opens up.

- he barely does so. but it’s much easier to see his emotions on his face, with far more vulnerability. 

- it starts from little things, like how he really thinks swansea might get tired of teaching him. or maybe the way jimmy got mad at him because he accidentally spilled oil on his shirt. 

- then it turns to things in his house. how he missed his mother, how he missed seeing his cat, how he felt like he had to take this internship because he felt like he had to prove something.

- you offer him hugs from time to time. he accepts them. 

- sometimes you feel tears soak into your shirt. you try your best to comfort him after. whether it would be rubbing circles into his back, or offering him an extra piece of sunshine - you tried your best.

- you know you aren’t the best at that. but if this is all you can do, then what else should you do?

- sometimes you wonder if this ship really does need to be human automated. 

- what costs do they cut by hiring human workers instead? innovation? investment in machinery? why keep people on barely minimum wages in a random ship being sent out to space, with minimum facilities and minimum safety and security? isn’t it a safer bet to go all out with machinery, then turn a profit later down the line - rather than close to losing this hunk of metal nearly every other day?

- then you look into the lounge in what is assumed to be “six in the morning” - you don’t trust the clocks. everything feels fake - and get hit by literal beams of sunshines in your way ( read : curly, anya, and daisuke laughing together )

- maybe you can keep those thoughts for another day. you ate.. pretty okay pancakes that morning.

- perhaps the only thing you wished you could change, in definite terms, was the way jimmy lingered around anya’s room. 

- so stop it you did. or at the very least, attempted to stop it, you did.

- that’s the main reason you ended up sleeping on the front of anya’s room. (with her permission, of course)

- the reason you proposed to her was, and you quote, 

“i keep on having dreams of cockroaches.” 

- anya looked at you half asleep. the other half concerned, worried, and confused. you shuffled in front of her room, your hand hauling a mattress and your blankets awkwardly.

- .. she finally allowed you after a small while. maybe its because you looked pathetic. maybe its something else. you do not know, and you don't want to know.

- you eventually placed your mattress back into your room (due to the lack of space, you should’ve expected that - your only reason was that you did this on a whim), and slept on the floor, facing the walls with your blanket covering you like a silkworm.

- it’s not comfortable. thank god the tulpar has - at best - subpar air conditioning, otherwise you’d freeze to death in this huge metal hunk in space.

- it successfully warded off jimmy though. or so you’ve observed. so you really don’t mind the way your back aches every morning. 

- maybe you should bring more pillows…

the door behind you croaks slowly, and slowly- your eyes peek open, looking up at a dimmed figure. an anya-looking dimmed figure. you immediately relax back in your blanket.

“..nightmares again?” she looks concerned about your sleeping position. for a moment, you feel bad for lying.

you purse your lips, and nod at her.

“.. yeah.”

she watches from the door, and nods at you. 

you think she finally figured out that you knew about jimmy’s recent lingering. she spares you a thankful glance, and sends you a soft nod.

“..goodnight. thank you.”

you nod back, and once the door shuts back, you slump further. as much as these metal walls allow you, anyway.

you hope you dream this night. maybe of home, or of something sweet. maybe of something better.

you aren't sure what that something is. but you hope you find it soon.

but, oh, who were you kidding.

you never got the chance to dream. this night isn't any different.

you slip into a void; your body awaiting tomorrow.

i hope u enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it .. !

initially started off as a daisuke x reader insert but i went too far and suddenly i have this.. this...... series.... will get more into the romance after i world build a bit more.. if you have any specific requests for the reader in this au, don't be afraid to shoot something in my ask box!

extra notes: in order of youngest to oldest, i hc daisuke to be youngest, then reader, then anya, curly/jimmy and swansea !

sun & moon dividers by : @/saradika daytime screen & medical bay from mouthwashing

[saintzweig]

poly boyfriends!artrick x reader headcanons

– THANK YOU FOR 500!! ily guys thank you for your support, i appreciate every single one of you truly 🥹 this is pretty simple, just fluff and domesticity. barely proofread because i'm me :p also feedback (on all my works) is appreciated so please feel free

ꢾ꣒ everyone knew that patrick and art were best friends, they were always together. tennis matches, classes, parties, you name it. it was nearly impossible for them to be apart for longer than an hour.

ꢾ꣒ but nobody knew they were together together. behind closed doors, hands were all over each other and lips locked. soft 'i love you's' whispered into each other's ears.

ꢾ꣒ patrick didn't care about people knowing but his partner did, it was something art wasn't ready for and he respected that.

ꢾ꣒ when patrick left for tour, art had a hard time adjusting. he didn't really have any friends aside from his boyfriend and tashi, who was always busy with tennis.

ꢾ꣒ so patrick encouraged him to join extracurriculars aside from the tennis team, convincing him that it would help broaden his network and all that stuff.

ꢾ꣒ that's how art ended up at your baking club, he didn't know how to bake but it was either this or the robotics club. you assured him that that's okay, he's here to learn anyways.

ꢾ꣒ it was you, him and a few more people that would meet up atleast twice a month at the assigned members' house. not his, seeing as he lived in the dorms.

ꢾ꣒ you were patient with him which he appreciated, you didn't make him feel dumb for struggling to follow even the simplest instructions neither did you make him feel out of place for being a man learning how to bake. (it was the 2000s, ok)

ꢾ꣒ one night, he dreamt about you in a way that made his heart race until he woke up. he was in a mood for the entire day after that, feeling so guilty because you were his friend and well, he has a boyfriend.

ꢾ꣒ he talked to patrick about it, not wanting to keep anything from him but he was surprised to hear his boyfriend be so casual about it. "it's fine, it was just a dream, it'll pass. plus you're allowed to find other people attractive."

ꢾ꣒ and art hoped it would pass, until it had been two months since and all it did was grew. into a real, stupid crush on you. he couldn't help the way his cheeks grew red or the way his heart skipped a beat whenever you would come near him during your club meetings.

ꢾ꣒ when patrick came back from tour, art couldn't stop himself from tearing up out of guilt. clutching the latter's shirt tightly and furiously apologizing for feeling this way.

ꢾ꣒ that's when they opened up the conversation about the possibility of art being polyamorous.

ꢾ꣒ the next club meeting, which was held at yours again, art brought patrick with him. and when patrick saw you, he understood almost immediately why art was so into you.

ꢾ꣒ despite your disheveled hair, dirty apron and streaks of flour on your cheek, you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. even surpassing his previous crush on tashi duncan.

ꢾ꣒ when art saw his reaction, he felt a burn in his chest. not out of jealousy but rather at the idea of extending their love to you, if you accepted.

ꢾ꣒ you and art decided to bake a cake together while patrick spectated, he's not to be trusted in the kitchen (they learned that the hard way)

ꢾ꣒ art stood on your right while patrick on the other, you were in the middle of them whisking the cake mix.

ꢾ꣒ patrick dipped a finger into the mixture before placing it into his mouth, causing art to softly glare at him for his lack of manners but the look was disregarded.

ꢾ꣒ "so... has my boyfriend been a good club member?"

ꢾ꣒ you couldn't help the way your breath hitched, glancing between the two of them with wide eyes. "boyfriend?"

ꢾ꣒ "aw, you don't talk about me, artie?"

ꢾ꣒ you stood there silently as embarrassment creeped all over your body. you had this idea that maybe art was single and into you, but now his boyfriend was right there, telling you all about their relationship.

ꢾ꣒ patrick immediately clocked your reaction, grinning down at you. "you like him, don't you?"

ꢾ꣒ you swear you nearly died from choking on your own saliva.

ꢾ꣒ "don't worry, sweetheart. he likes you too, a lot"

ꢾ꣒ things escalated quite quickly from then on, the three of you spending most days together at your house or on the tennis court, art walking you to your classes almost everyday and going out whenever patrick is home from tour.

ꢾ꣒ art slept over a lot at yours, his arm tucked under your head and the other draping around your waist while your laptop was on your bedside table, camera on and patrick sleeping on the screen.

ꢾ꣒ it was a little hard to navigate because you made sure to tread carefully as to not leave anyone out but for the most part, it was comfortable and sweet.

ꢾ꣒ patrick was loud and outgoing, art was more introverted and gentle while you were the one that kept the balance between their somehow similar yet contrasting personalities.

ꢾ꣒ you kept patrick in line and helped art learn how to put himself first.

ꢾ꣒ everyone thought that you were dating only one of them, which was fair seeing as how they saw you the most with art

ꢾ꣒ you didn't mind, although it was a little disheartening because you wanted people to know that patrick was your boyfriend too.

ꢾ꣒ and because no one knew patrick was in a relationship, he had a lot of people coming up to him and asking him out.

ꢾ꣒ art had enough one day when the two of you overheard a group of friends objectifying talking about patrick.

ꢾ꣒ when patrick walked up to the two of you before his game, their conversation only got more loud and obnoxious in hopes to catch his attention and art couldn't stop himself from pulling the brunette in for a very passionate kiss. "you're cute when you're jealous, donaldson"

ꢾ꣒ patrick played the entire game with a smirk on his face while art had his head nuzzled into your neck in embarrassment, "why did i do that?"

ꢾ꣒ after graduating university, art joined patrick in going pro, often travelling together.

ꢾ꣒ you opened a small baking business that you would often operate inside your shared apartment until you've saved up enough to rent a place for a small bakery.

ꢾ꣒ when the two boys are home, art, being the sweet boy he is, would help you with orders while patrick is in charge of choosing a movie and what to get for takeout.

ꢾ꣒ although patrick gets bored pretty easily especially when you two were taking long in the kitchen, he'd sneak in and try to distract the two of you. snaking his arms around your waist and trail kisses down from your jaw to your neck.

ꢾ꣒ of course he doesn't want art to feel left out so he'd remove one arm around your waist to reach over and squeeze art's behind, earning him a handful of flour thrown onto his pretty face.

ꢾ꣒ it's a little unconventional sure, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[rubysevens]

anyway in the past week the irish government has voted down two motions which would have condemned the genocide in gaza.

i need everyone to stop lionising ireland as if its not also a european government with strong ties to the us. american weapons pass through shannon airport and will continue to, because yesterday the motion to stop that was voted down 83 to 50.

other governments have done much more but somehow people still act as though ireland is the ultimate palestinian ally and exempt from criticism on its handling of palestine bc it was once colonised, even though that past experience clearly isnt being taken into account by the irish government when creating policy.

i live here i know there’s a lot of public support and sympathy for palestine, which is great, but that isnt reflected in government, and i think ireland should be treated like other countries whose governments have done nothing.

[inkskinned]

you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

[randomalistic]

Wait you guys are actually buying Disney products I thought it was a joke

(READ TAGS FOR FULL CONTEXT Sorry it’s long dies

[m-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e]

I hope leftists who think they’re above voting for president or are voting for Jill Stein or whoever because it’s their stupid way of protesting the system feel good about themselves, especially if Trump wins partly because of your negligence 😍 I know you’re not doing shit to plan the proletarian revolution, especially before January, so you guys better not complain about something harming you that you didn’t even bother to try and change

(edit: changed the last part bc I wrote “…if life gets a lot worse for you” cause that does nottt sound right at all and I apologize for writing that)

[st4rking]

tfw you, as a mind reader, have to team up with a man who thinks too much

Slight spoilers in tags