#and for some reason those people think it’s okay??

[girlw-amermaidtattoo]

There’s a reason why that hollow feeling keeps creeping in, even though you’re surrounded by people online. Loneliness doesn’t come from a lack of bodies around you, but from the absence of anyone who truly sees you—the person behind the username, the one hiding beneath the layers of desires, doubts, and those moments of rejection. Being “social” doesn’t fix that ache, because loneliness isn’t about the numbers in your follower count; it’s about the connections that go deeper, the people who get it—who get you.

For some of you betas and cucks out there, scrolling through Tumblr might feel like the only place where you can be your true, raw self, kink and all. It’s a place where you feel like maybe, just maybe, people would understand the things that get you going without judgment or shame. But if you’re just skimming the surface, going from post to post, it’s no wonder that a part of you still feels unseen, like there’s this hidden part of you that nobody’s really interested in or hasn’t quite found its place. That’s a big weight to carry around alone.

Tumblr might feel like a kinky safe space, and that’s good—it’s okay to let your weird, wild side out here. But remember, the people you’re seeing on your screen, the ones posting, commenting, liking, are people too. People with desires, insecurities, and hopes that mirror your own in ways you might not even realize. They get it, maybe even more than you think. So, next time you’re goon scrolling, remember that there are others on the other side of the screen who’ve felt that same pang of loneliness, that same yearning to be accepted for everything they are. You’re not as alone as it sometimes feels; you’re part of a community, even in the strangest corners of this digital world.

There’s a reason why we feel lonely even though we aren’t alone. It’s because loneliness is not about how many friends we have or how many people are in the room with us. It’s a disconnection from others. Being social doesn’t cure loneliness, loneliness comes when there is not a single person close enough to see past the illusion to who we really are and what we really feel inside.

[beardedjoel]

indebted

dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.

summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.

a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!

I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.

It’s utterly and completely my fault.

Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.

It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA. 

He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed. 

I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.

However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.

I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.

I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?

“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.

“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks. 

A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice. 

My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.

“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.

“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.

He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.” 

I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him. 

Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.

“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.

“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”

“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.

My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”

My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.

“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room. 

“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.

“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.

“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.

I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”

Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”

I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”

My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind. 

“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”

“A safehouse?”

“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.

He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for. 

I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.

“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”

Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.

His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own. 

The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.

“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs. 

My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.

“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.

He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.

Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”

I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.

I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer. 

“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?

His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”

I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.

Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”

“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”

“I don’t have -”

“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience. 

“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.” 

Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”

“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”

“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”

I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.

“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it. 

“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”

My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse? 

“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.

“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.

He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand. 

The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.

The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down. 

“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it. 

He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth. 

The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth. 

“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power. 

“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so. 

Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure. 

“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.

Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock. 

My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick? 

“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in. 

He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest. 

As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.

“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.

“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”

I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”

Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”

I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.

“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”

I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them. 

Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.

“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”

Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.

He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.

“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.

Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.” 

I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.

“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it. 

“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.

I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.

He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.

“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.

“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything. 

I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.

“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close.  His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.” 

I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.

With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before. 

I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”

I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”

The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.

“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something. 

“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.

I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides. 

“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.

“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,”  he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.

“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.

He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.

I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.

I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.

“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”

I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth. 

I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?  

It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.

“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not. 

“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure. 

“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me. 

It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.

Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.

When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me. 

I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul. 

He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”

I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.

“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”

I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper. 

Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified. 

Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.

“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

[elumish]

On Radicalization

I'm seeing a lot of people now talking about radicalization (for obvious reasons) and I want to put my two cents into it.

I'm not a radicalization expert by any means, but I have my MA in terrorism studies, and I'm currently pursuing a PhD in security studies, so radicalization is a thing that I have talked/thought about a fair amount.

I think one of the most important things to understand when you think about radicalization is that "radical" and "extremist" are both relative. Generally, when we're talking about radicalization, we're talking about a sharp political shift to a position outside of what we would consider the norm. What's radical in a liberal city in the United States in 2024 is vastly different from both what would have been radical in that city 150 years earlier and what is radical in some other countries right now.

For much of the last 2+ decades (or at least ~2001-2019), most of what was talked about with radicalization was in the context of islamist terrorism/violent extremism. People around the world were trying to figure out why people (especially in Western countries) were joining al Qaeda or ISIS or why people in Afghanistan were joining the Taliban, etc. What was it that drove one person to do that and another person not to--and, what was it that drove one person with those ideological beliefs to commit violence and one person not to.

Right now, in the US, what a lot of people are talking about is why people (namely young white men) are shifting dramatically to the right, particularly socially, and ending up in the political far right. In particular, why are they now advocating for (or at least voting for people who advocate for) taking away rights that are ~50 years old, as well as being more openly white/Christian supremacist than was socially acceptable 25 years ago, and why are some of them committing far right violence?

I think some of the reality that we have to face is that people have been advocating against abortion (and to a lesser degree birth control) access for those entire 50 years, and people have been white/Christian supremacists this entire time, and we just had a brief period of time when it was a little less okay to say out loud. But anyone old enough to remember the Obama campaigns remembers that the opposition to them was virulently racist and Christian supremacist.

But radicalization is happening, so let's talk about some of the ways that it happens in general. None of these are universally true, and what might radicalize one person might not radicalize another.

Social isolation. Social isolation is an extremely common factor in radicalization. Communities generally do two things: they act as a moderating force, and they give people ties that discourage violence. When studying islamist radicalization, from what I remember, conversion was a factor in likelihood of radicalization--not because there is something inherently radicalizing in the act of converting to a religion, but because converts often found resources online or with communities that specifically targeted new people, ones that were less ideologically moderate.

People who convert are also I think in some cases the people who are more likely to be ideologically driven anyway, because it is more work to convert and so you would only do so if you have a stronger ideological belief in it. You see this with some Catholic converts (e.g., Vance)--they are often more conservative and don't necessarily reflect mainstream Catholic teachings because they didn't grow up in a Catholic community as much as intentionally looking for the things that would make them The Most CatholicTM (ironically and hilariously one of those seems to be disagreeing with the Pope, which is approximately the least Catholic thing you can do).

if you have a community, you're generally also less likely to try to hurt people in that community because they're people you care about. Not a universal truth, obviously, but in aggregate. Being in a community also means that there are people who can tell you that what you're saying is extreme and walk you back from it. If you're isolated, nobody will tell you that.

But overall being isolated makes you more likely to feel like nobody likes or cares about you, which can make you angry and disaffected and looking for someone to blame, and it also makes you far more vulnerable to people who are looking to recruit. If you think everyone hates you and then someone tells you that everyone does hate you except for them, you're probably going to listen to them.

Relative depravation. Relative depravation is the idea that the radicalizing factor isn't having nothing, it's having something and seeing people who have more so you feel like you have nothing. I remember this came up when people were studying who in Afghanistan joined the Taliban, and it was often people who were more middle class rather than people living in poverty. The people living in poverty didn't have time to be radicalized because they needed to put food on the table, but the middle class people could see how good other people had it and how bad they had it and it made them mad. (I am vastly oversimplifying a study I remember from 10 years ago--it's a lot more complicated than this.)

But in the US, we're seeing this with men (who have, on an objective basis, lost political power in the US), and with white people (who have, on that same objective basis, lost political power in the US), and with people from geographic regions that used to have much stronger economies and better opportunities but don't anymore (e.g., coal areas, manufacturing areas). They can look at other people (e.g., women, POC) and say "I lost power and you gained power because I lost power, that's not fair and it's hurting me" or "it used to be better but now it's bad, that's not fair and it's hurting me" and then they get mad about it. And some subset of people who get mad about it decide to hurt people over it, or at the very least they vote to try to get it to not be like that anymore. They want to go back, because to them, back was better.

Radicalized education. One of the reasons why white women are so valuable to the white supremacist movement is not just that they can have white children, but that they can teach those white children. Some of this starts at home, or in the schools, or in the churches. And it's not necessarily radicalization if it starts that way (because people aren't moving politically so much as just being), but there are tens of thousands if not millions of children right now who are learning misogynist, queerphobic, and white supremacist ideas in all forms of their education. Those children who learn the benevolent slaveholder narrative or the states rights idea or that Jews killed Jesus or whatever grow up to be adults, and some of them vote, and some of them vote Republican because the ideas Republicans are spouting are the ideas that they were taught.

Suffering under real or perceived oppression. One of the goals of terrorism, in some cases, is to spark an overblown government reaction, which will then radicalize the populace into rising up against them. This is because, sometimes, for some people, that works--some people suffering under oppression or what they perceive is oppression will become increasingly anti-government (or anti-whoever is oppressing them) and that will sometimes turn violent.

The thing to remember here is that oppression is also in the eye of the beholder, to some degree. By the standards of some right-wing Evangelicals, for example, they are oppressed by the secular federal government, which keeps them from practicing their religion in the way that they see fit.

Justice by any means. This isn't exactly a way that people are radicalized, but one thing I see in people I would consider radicalized on basically all ideological fronts is this idea that justice (or winning) should come by any means. You see this in people who burn abortion clinics or kill abortion providers to "save babies" and people who kill cops as a solution to police brutality and people who stone gay people to death. The idea that your ends justify your means is, to me, a core to true radicalism.

The reality is this: if there was one way to stop radicalization, countries would have done it decades ago. Sometimes it's about drawing people into a community, and sometimes it's about getting them out of the community that is radicalizing them. Sometimes it's about being kind or compassionate to a single human being, and sometimes it's about showing them that they are operating against their own self-interest.

And sometimes it's just about damage control and about keeping someone who is already radicalized and looking to do violence from doing violence.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

If you sometimes come across the term “banned books” but don’t really know what it means, here’s a simple little introduction to the topic: 

“Banned books” refers to books that have been censored or removed from libraries, schools, or bookstores due to objections from certain groups or individuals.

When we read that definition, I think a really common and understandable response is: „whoa, okay, these must be really bad books full of dangerous ideas!“… and in some way, that’s true. 

Because, you see, to someone with a homophobic worldview, any book with a gay character is really bad and dangerous. And to a child abuser, any book that educates children on consent is really bad and dangerous. 

Among the top reasons for book bans are lgbt+ content, sexual content (including sexual education or education on sexual abuse), themes of racism and themes like drug use or addiction. Over the years, many books with significant cultural and educational value have faced bans - and this continues to be an issue all around the world, including in the US. 

When books are banned, it restricts the access to information people (including kids and teenagers) need to understand themselves and others. This negatively affects queer people and other marginalized groups (for example people of color or disabled people) but it also impacts everyone else. Diversity in literature enriches our understanding of the diversity of real life. It helps to build empathy, compassion, kindness and understanding. Access to different stories and viewpoints is vital for an inclusive society. 

Censoring queer books in particular also normalizes the message that queer experiences are inappropriate or “dirty” - which, again, is really beneficial to homophobes and transphobes. If it feels safe for them to say that queer books harm children, it paves the way for all other kinds of discrimination and harassment of queer people. 

Now you may think “this all makes sense when it comes to books with gay characters! But didn’t you also mention stuff like sexual abuse and addiction and racism up there? These are indeed bad and dangerous things!” 

I think this is another really common thought. These things happen in real life and it can be uncomfortable to even think about them. But that’s precisely why we need books about those “uncomfortable” topics! 

We may not like the idea that a child hears about racism or abuse - but in a world where kids can experience racism and abuse, they also need to be able to read about racism and abuse. They need to be able to say “this is what’s happening to me and this is not okay”. We need to be able to name bad things when they happen to us or when we witness them happening to others. We need an understanding of and a language for bad things. That’s the only way to fight the bad things. 

Another thought you may have is “Okay, and now what? I don’t have the power to do anything about all this anyway”, and honestly I wouldn’t blame you for that one either. Hearing about book bans (on top of all the other negative stuff we hear about) can feel really depressing. But there are things you can do to push back and help keep diverse stories accessible - even if you are young or have limited resources! 

Some ideas: 

use your public library (many public libraries actively resist censorship and make banned books available!) 

use a digital library (services like Libby and Project Gutenberg offer free access to many books) 

look out for online petitions or letter-writing campaigns by organizations that oppose book bans (for example PEN in America) 

look up if there are any “little free libraries” in your area (free book-sharing box operating on the honor system: anyone can take or leave a book for no cost) 

look up if there are any book swapping events in your area 

take part in reading groups, book clubs etc. (either in person or online) 

And of course the big one: if you can afford to buy books - make a point to buy banned books (or more generally, queer books and books from marginalized authors and books on topics that frequently get banned)! As a starting point, you can find lists of banned books online. Wikipedia has one, for example. 

If you have a bigger budget, you could even buy multiple copies and put some in your local “little free library” or bring them to book-swapping events or gift them to friends etc! (You could also ask your local public library (or school library or prison library or youth center or women’s shelter etc) if they take book donations, but you may want to hold off on buying before they say yes - not all of them can accept donations!).

Happy reading and resisting!

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[friendof-blahaj]

Okay, just gonna give my two cents on this real quick. Sharing a comment of "This looks good," or, "I like these regulations," while most likely appreciated, is probably not gonna be super helpful for a public comment period on proposed regulations.

If you want to express support the new regulations that's great, but during this period the agency is typically looking for changes or omissions that need to be made before the regulation goes into effect. For this reason comments like "I don't like the like the rule grrr I like my truck the way it is," also probably aren't gonna concern the agency. Their response would basically be, okay boohoo go cry me a river it goes into effect on X date.

What they're really looking for are arguments for or against specific lines in the new regulations. If I'm not mistaken, by law the agency needs to collect and collate these comments into specific concerns which will then need to be addressed and either accepted or refuted, and if accepted reflect changes on the final version of these regulations.

So ideally, the best thing to do would be to find specific arguments people are making against the regulations, cite those arguments in your own comment, and refute them, and if you have data to back it up then you've already done most of the work refuting the point.

If not that then the next best thing would be to cite a specific line of the regulation that you appreciate the inclusion of. If you have a friend or a loved one who would have avoided death of serious injury if one of these rules was already in effect that's the sort of thing the agency wants to hear about, or if you have data to back it up even better.

And as stated previously a big thing they are looking for is omissions. If you believe there is a bit of wording or a line of text that fits under these new regulations and should be added that's exactly the sort of thing they're looking for, and if you have a personal story or data connected to it that'll be exactly what they're looking for.

I apologize if I came off scolding and for not having specific arguments you can use when commenting on this specific regulation, but seeing this post make the rounds I just wanted to give some advice from my perspective on how to best influence your government agencies and regulators.

Also, as an additional note, big influences like automakers or lobbying groups may have submitted there comments by mail or even published them in an article somewhere to show they're "fighting the good fight," to their customers/supporters. Those would be the most important comments to refute.

Think of this comment section less like a normal one, and more as part of one of those reply chains you see when a bunch of pretentious people start arguing about something unrelated. It's basically a debate floor.

IF YOU LIVE IN THE US AND WOULD RATHER NOT DIE FROM BEING HIT BY A CAR

please submit a comment on the NHTSA proposal to implement pedestrian safety test requirements for cars and trucks!!

It would finally make manufacturers design vehicles that are safer for pedestrians and cyclists, instead of the massive wall-of-steel front ends that are excessively deadly for no reason. Europe already has rules like this, but unless we comment in approval, they're not going to do anything to halt the increasing pedestrian deaths in our country.

And please share, even if you don't live in the US!

[alpaca-clouds]

Let's Talk About "Marvelfication"

Okay, let me try to get this out of my system, because I do have some thoughts on this one.

See, as you know, I finished Dragon Age: Veilguard last week. And I did enjoy the game. I never was that attached to the franchise. I really enjoyed Inquisition back in the day when it came out, but after doing two runs with it never have really returned to it. I also did play one of the older games, though I am not fully sure which one, because it was a long while ago. But I just never got that attached to the franchise. (Which mostly has to do with my own personal issues with High Fantasy.)

But that is not what I wanted to talk about. What I wanted to talk about is more the thing I have seen now multiple people call out: "The Marvelfication" as some have called it. And mind you, I absolutely do agree with this: There were several scenes in this game where I thought to myself: "This feels kinda MCU."

However, what I kinda want to talk about is the specific wording here: "Marvelfication." Because it is super understandable that the first thing that comes to mind (for me as well) is the MCU. But I think the issue is way deeper than "MCU is popular, so let's do something like the MCU".

A lot of folks on Youtube and other platforms have talked about how a lot of "tropes" that people blame on the MCU are actually older than the MCU. The reason people associate it with the MCU is moreso that the MCU is just fucking everywhere since it became this big thing. It is what defines the media landscape.

The big issue actually is another one, though: Those tropes are everywhere because in a more and more conservative media landscape they are considered safe. These types of jokes are not risky in any way. These types of characters are not risky. These types of stories are not risky.

It is stories that are set in societies that are messed up, and then there is a big conflict that only tangentally relates to the ways the societies are messed up in, and then that conflict is resolved but the status quo does not change.

And that more than anything is what I would criticize about the game. Outside of very prominently centering some trans issues, the game has taken very little risks.

I wrote about that a bit last week in comparison to BG3, how safe the companions in Veilguard feel. This shows so harshly in direct comparison to BG3, because really, Larian sat down with player and told you: "Those assholes are your companions. Take it or leave it." Those people I know who never finished BG3 mostly never did because they could not stand the companions. Meanwhile those who, like me, got obsessed with the game, mostly did it because it feels so fucking satisfying when you start to get through to the companions after they started out as those assholes. This satisfaction is something Veilguard never really offers you - because... Well, I can assume that some of these characters had some edges at some point. But whatever edges there had been, those have gotten smoothed down, so now everyone is perfectly sweet. Sure, they might argue a bit here or there, and if you make decisions they do not agree with, they are gonna be pissy with Rook for a bit, but that's the most of it.

Same with a lot of other stuff. There is basically no sexual content in this game. You get one sex scene that is super tame and you see nothing - and one to two kisses per romance. No risk.

Any no matter what kinda choice the characters make, they are all gonna be nice, you know?

There is one thing in the finale of the game that is kinda risky, I will admit. But I will not talk about that yet, because I knwo a lot of people have not finished the game.

But for the most part the game does not risk anything.

And really, that is the core of what folks call "Marvelfication". Because pretty much this is also the issue with Marvel and Star Wars and pretty much all American made media: Outside of some smaller productions, some of which do well with the tumblr crowd but barely get any attention from mainstream audience (*coughs* Interview with the Vampire *coughs*) there is little risk taken. The humor is the same everywhere because this humor is considered safe. The characters feel kinda samey everywhere, because those characters are safe.

It is why I have stopped going to the cinema, because these days there are barely any movies I consider worth watching. It is ironically also why I have recently watched a whole lot more Japanese stuff, because it is easier to find stuff there that does not play it that safe.

It is also why I do these days mostly consume western stuff that has a 18+ rating on it - because at least with that stuff I know that it probably is not gonna play it "safe".

I just wish some media took more risks. I want those medium budget projects back, that cost like 30-50 million, so can make a profit with 100 million at the box office, without doing billions. I want some stuff in there that is not a big IP. I just want... stuff.

Right now I am looking at the soon end of What We Do In The Shadows, mostly because it is one of the few things on right now that does some risky stuff. And I miss those SyFy low budget originals, because some of it was kinda risky. Ugh.

The issue is not Marvel. It is not even Disney. It is that the creative industries in the US right now mainly put out big budget stuff that because of that big budget needs to be loved by everyone.

And look, I am trans. Hence I absolutely do see some value in the fact that Bioware clearly took position and said: "Okay, we get to do one risky thing, so that thing is gonna be to incluse a variety of trans characters." Which I love and respect. But I kinda wish the game had not been quite that pretty and instead also included a bit more edges on the characters.

... But I guess in the end there is still fanfiction, where I can still make the characters messy. lol

[lilbitdepressed27]

Alcina Dimitrescu/Fem!Reader

Summary: One where it's a zombie apocalypse you get separated from your wife and daughters.

Warnings: none I think

WC: 4.1k

Author's Note: probably gonna write more for the beautiful tall lady again. A little bit of The last of us in here. Sorry for any mistakes :)

"Draga come back to bed." Your wife mumbled sleepily as you leaned down to kiss her on the head.

"Sorry baby. My sergeant called said it's an emergency. Something about a riot downtown. They need all hands on deck." At the mention of you being in potential danger your wife was wide awake. She sat up, seeing that you were already dressed up and ready to go in your police officer uniform. You had a apologetic smile as you looked down at her. It was supposed to be your day off. But in a situation like this. Every officer was called in.

"Be careful. Please call me when you get a chance. Even if it's a simple text." You could see the worry in her eyes.

"Of course I will. I love you and I'll be back before you know it. It's probably some of those dumb 'alpha males' at it again." You joked and leaned down kissing her on the lips.

"I love you too." She had gotten up to walk you out. Her sleep long forgotten. You had gently kissed your daughters on the head as they slept before leaving.

Alcina had watched you drive off with a knot in her throat. She had always hated when you were called away like this. She knew it was serious. If it weren't you wouldn't have been called. She had always worried about you when it came to your job.

She worked as a lawyer. She knew you didn't have to worry as much as she did. Did you worry? Of course you did. But just not on Alcina's level.

She walked back into the house after your truck was no longer in her eye sight.

*

"On news 10 today the riots have been growing down in the Los Angeles area. Riots have grown in other cities as well. San Francisco, San Diego, New York City, Chicago, Phoenix AZ, Philadelphia, Dallas TX, San Jose CA, Sacramento CA, Miami FL. We have not figured out the reason behind these riots but the state of California and local authorities are strongly advising to stay in your homes for your own safety, if you live in these areas."

Alcina had just turned on the tv after she had taken a shower seeing that it was no point trying to go back to sleep.

"Mom where's mama?" At the sound of her youngest daughter entering the living room she looked away from the tv to the red head. The ten year old was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"She was called into work sweetheart. Come here."

Daniela flopped on to her mother, cuddling up to the taller woman.

"But I thought it was her day off?"

"I know sweetie but there was something her sergeant had to talk to her about." Alcina held her daughter close to her as she looked back to the news reporter.

"We are going live to the riots in downtown Los Angeles with Maria Ascott. To you Maria."

"Thank you Jill. The riots here have made a turn for the worst. We had to get off the streets due to how violent the people were getting. LAPD have stopped using rubber bullets and gone straight to lethal force. Thing is that some of the people have become completely vicious. They are biting officers and even other people in the crowd. I can't believe what I'm seeing. They just won't stay dow-" The camera had turned at a loud explosion and more shooting.

"Mom? Is mama okay?"

Alcina wanted to be honest but she didn't know. Before she could make a move to call you. Her phone rang, a picture of you smiling at the camera lit up the phone. She quickly picked up the phone not even letting the phone ring for a second time.

"Draga are you okay?" She stood up from the couch, her concern growing as she heard the shouts and shooting from your side of the phone. She had put the phone on speaker phone when Daniela motioned her to put it on.

"Yes I'm fine Alci. I need you listen to me. Get the girls and the guns from my safe. Pack what ever we could need. Be quick. We need to get out of the city. Now. There's no time to explain. Get the girls. Now Alcina. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes." The line cut off before Alcina could respond.

"Daniela get you sisters and tell them to pack what ever we could need. Now darling."

They both moved quick around the house. Packing a bag of clothes with toiletries. Bela and Cassandra didn't know what was going on but did as what their mother said. Seeing how serious her mother and younger sister were being.

Alcina moved quickly packing her own bag and yours. With anything they'd need. She moved to pack a big duffel bag from your gun safe. You always had been one to have guns. It was something Alcina had hated cause of the kids but you had put them in a safe. Where only you and herself could access them. From hand guns to rifles and shotguns. She didn't know what to pack. But from what she saw on the news. She new it was serious. So she packed as much as she could with ammunition and guns. Leaving the gun safe empty.

"Babe!? Girls!?"

"Draga.." Alcina words got stuck in her mouth when she saw you uniform torn and and with blood. She cupped your cheeks as she looked you over.

"I'm okay but we have to go. We'll go to the family cabin. It's secluded enough. Donna and Angie are on their way there. Karl is there already with your mother and brother. Come on."

"Mama what's going on." Bela asked once Cassandra and herself put all their bags in the Escalade.

"I'll explain everything on the way to our cabin. Come on."

The family moved rapidly, leaving their home. Not knowing that It'd be last time they saw it as a whole.

*

You were one to always follow the rules. Seeing as you were a cop after all. You took pride in doing what you did. Putting bad guys behind bars. Helping your wife and her law firm putting bad people bad guys away for a long time. But you were also used to speeding down the streets. Running stop lights and stop signs. What you were not used to was having your family in the same car as you did those things. You knew the risks of driving fast down the roads. Anything could happen. But you knew. You knew that you had to get your family out of the city. After seeing the things you saw. It wasn't safe. You weren't even sure if the cabin was safe.

"Y/n tell me what's going on. Is this cause of that sickness going around?" Your wife spoke for the first time since getting in the car. She had been too distracted by the chaos happening outside of the vehicle.

"It's not just a sickness. Sergeant had a friend in the cdc, it's some type of virus, the scientist used the word fungus. A fungus that only effected ants-Cordyceps we learned about in school. You gotta be joking? How come it wasn't on the news?" Your daughter Cassandra spoke from the middle seat.

"The cdc tried to control it in Seattle. The government had locked down Seattle in a matter of minutes when the first signs of infection were shown in Seattle's Lake Hill hospital. It spread faster than they had hoped. Before they knew it had spread all through out Seattle. They couldn't contain it. They still don't know how it spread all through out the United States." You swerved out of the way of the two collided cars. Using the sidewalk to escape the lines of cars. Refusing to take your eyes off the road. You knew there were going to be road blocks put by the military. It was why you chose the back roads. The cabin was a good two days away. But with this amount of traffic it would probably take longer.

You thanked everything in you for getting the four wheel drive and for not living too in the city. So going off road was the best option you had.

"Mom?"

"We can't be seen by the military. Their orders are shoot to kill." It was why you hoping to avoid the road blocks and roads in general.

*

You were only a good day away from the cabin. It had been in the middle of the night the dirt road empty when a trucks lights suddenly turned on, catching you by surprise and blinding you momentarily. You had no time to react, the truck rammed into your side of the car pushing the truck forcefully towards the ledge. The force had caused you to hit the side of your head against the window. The screams of your girls had been muffled as the truck tipped and rolled down the slope.

Your ears ringed as you checked on alcina and the girls. The voices stilled muffled as you tried to ignore the pain of your side. You had to gather yourself and get your family away from who ever was driving that truck.

"Alcina come on get up. Girls?"

"We're okay mama."

"Mama you're bleeding." Cassandra's voice filled with concern, finally sounded clear.

"I'm okay baby. We go get out of the truck. Use the truck as cover. Do not peak from the sides. Bela get my gun bag, Dani baby get the bag with the med-kits and supplies we could need." You gently shook Alcina. Desperately trying to wake her up. The sound of her gasp, was only a moment of relief as you head a distant noise of shouting.

"Come on baby, are you okay?" You used your knife to cut her seat belt catching her before she could hit the ground.

"Oh draga, you're bleeding. Are the girls okay?"

"They're fine. Come on we have to go." You helped your family out of the vehicle, noticing the gas leaking from the tank. The sounds of shouting we're getting closer. You checked over Alcina seeing that she was okay other than scratches on her.

"Alcina listen to me. I'll draw them away from-No. We have to stick together." Alcina was quick to shut down the idea. But she saw the look in your eyes. Her eyes filled with tears as she heard the sounds of voices only getting closer.

You sighed, taking the gun you had trained her with. Making sure it was loaded. The girls had trained with you as well, they knew how to handle a gun. They knew gun safety. You handed the gun to Alcina. "You have to go, keep our girls safe. I'll see you soon. There's no time for arguments. You know as much as I do those people aren't going to think twice when they see us. I'll lead them away from you and our girls. And catch to you when it's safe. Now go."

The girls protested as well. But Alcina knew you were right. With tears in her eyes she took a step back as you pushed her towards the opposite direction. "Y/n."

"Do not stop till you get to the cabin. Do not hesitate when you pull that trigger." Your voice was strong but yet she heard how it wobbled. You kissed the girls head.

"Go, now."

As the shots you fired had the men stumbling for cover as your family disappeared into the dark woods. You stepped away from the truck as far as you could as the men grew closer shooting their own guns in your direction. Completely missing the four getting away. As they grew closer you shot your gun in the direction of the gas leaking the force of the explosion throwing you back against the tree. Rendering you unconscious.

*

(20 Years Later)

Alcina looked back at the little town. The walls they've built were slowly spreading. Slowly growing, all the town needed know was some electricity if they could ever get the damn power plant to work again. As she looked back down at the planes she had scattered in front of her, her wondered. After all these years her mind went back to that day.

How much she regretted leaving you. How her heart screamed at her to go back when she heard the explosion. But she pushed on. With the hope that you would be right behind them.

Her hopes had come crashing down when the day passed and they arrived at the cabin. Her family was there but you had not arrived. The girls cried as they waited for you but you never came. The day passed and she went back. Karl going with her. The burned bodies were fresh there had been a few a total of six. All too burned to be recognizable. But then she saw the gun. Your hand gun she knew it was yours. She picked up the gun seeing the familiar serial numbers. The gun was not far from the burnt body.

"Mom, we have some scouters out west saying something about a storm coming. We have to reinforce the wall on the west side just in case some infected wonder from the west." The voice of her eldest daughter brought her back to the present.

"It's already in order Bela. Have you had any updates on your sister?" Her eldest had grown into a being a strong and smart woman.

"Yes, Daniella and uncle Karl are making sure that the men working on the power plant are protected from the raiders and infected." Bela stood straight paying close attention to her mother. Ever since that day she knew her mother had not been the same. She her mother had tried to be strong for her and her sisters. But she saw the sadness in her mother. The sadness that refused to leave. She herself longed to see her mama again but it had been ten years now.

You were gone.

Died trying to keep them safe.

*

After all these years, you still looked for your family. The anger you had for yourself had been so immense. You remember that day like it had been yesterday. The errors of it all keeping you up at night. After you knocked out that day. You had woken up in cell room along with some others. It clearly didn't take long for humanity to fall. Those men weren't military just a gang looking for victims.

It had taken you and few others too long to break out of that camp. By the time you did it had been two months since you last saw your family. You remember the urgency to get to the cabin. It had taken you two days to get the cabin seeing that the FEDRA was only growing. You had to sneak, not risking being seen and shot.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw once you did arrive at the cabin.

The cabin empty, destroyed half of the cabin had clearly caught fire. No signs of life, you had almost given up then and there. If it weren't for the fact that Karl's over the top survival truck was missing. It was a truck that he had always kept on the property grounds. He had been a clear lunatic when it came to preparing for the apocalypse.

That truck was set to only function on one set of keys. No hot wiring or anything could start that truck.

But that had been ten years ago. Ten years of searching for your family. You didn't know where to look. They could be dead for all you know, but knowing Karl, he always had a plan for this type of things. You just hoped that he kept your family safe.

"Y/n? You okay?"

Your attention was brought back to the kid standing next to you. You weren't sure where the two of you were headed. You had found this kid roaming not far from the outside of the walls. And well you had finally gotten the chance to sneak out of the said walls controlled by FEDRA. From there you just took her under your wing. Refusing to leave a fourteen year old to wonder by herself. Especially since the fourteen year old reminded you so much of your youngest.

You had an idea on where to go, a rumor of a town that was safe and secure. There were a few places you could check out.

"Yeah I'm okay kiddo, come on Wyoming isn't that far." You had been on the road for a year now, you had to find a safe place, winter had just passed and it was a strong and cold one. It had been brutal, the injury on your side still ached. But what ached more was what Ellie went through. Those crazy fucking cannibals and that fucking pe-You felt guilty for getting hurt, for making the young girl take on the burden of having to take care of you.

"Can you tell me about your family, what were they like?"

You couldn't help the smile and slight relief that she was talking again. "Oh just know you'd get along with my daughters. Cassandra my middle child she's just as much of a smart ass as you. My youngest Dani god, she's just as much of a jokester. And eldest Bela, well she's much more like her mother. Smart, patient, kind, she was- she'e twenty know. All of them twenty." You were quick to wipe the tear away.

"Alcina my wife, well I met her when we were both in elementary school. Man I fell in love with her the moment she walked into Ms.Luthor's second grade glass. Although I didn't know what I felt in that moment. I was her first friend and we stuck together like glue from then on. We didn't start dating till junior year. Want to see a picture?"

The excitement in those green eyes was hard to miss. You dug into your backpack taking out the journal that had a ziploc bag. Inside the bag was a picture of your family.

"Damn, that's your wife and kids, man they got all their looks from your wife huh." Ellie joked a snort and gentle shove was what she got in return.

The laugh escaping your lips, she had a point. "Shut up, now how about we cut through that power plant. It looks abandoned." Ellie laughed as she followed you down the path way that was now covered with over grown grass.

Ellie asked after a moment of silence as you both moved across the river leading to the power plant. "Do you really think that we'll find a place to call home?"

"I have hope. Just gotta believe kiddo. Let's go through here." You moved to pull on the large door, for it now to move. You pulled harder on it until you heard a familiar click. Reaching quickly for your side gun.

"Stop! Tell the girl to drop it as well."

At the sound of a deep voice you looked up to see quite a few guns pointing down at you and Ellie.

You stepped back knowing you had no other choice. "Ellie do as the lady says." Moving a bit closer to stand in front of Ellie, your hands still raised up. Hoping that they wouldn't shoot you. "We didn't know the place was occupied. We're just trying to get through, we want no trouble."

It was a tense moment of silence.

"They're alright."

"You know them?"

The sound of the big door sliding open. "I know her. She's my god damn sister in law."

The gate opened, and your eyes widen at the sight of Daniella and Karl. But your eyes couldn't tear themselves from your youngest daughter who was now a grown woman. Her baby features long gone.

"Mama?" Her voice was the same but yet so different.

"Dani."

The force of her hug had almost taken you down. Her cry as she hugged you tightly, you hugged her just as tightly. You couldn't believe that Daniela, your youngest daughter was back in your arms. After so many years of thinking that you'd never see her again had finally come to an end.

"Mama we thought you were dead. We went back. Mom went back to check with uncle Karl. We should have never left you mama. I'm so sorry. We looked for you, everywhere. We never stopped. I'm sorry—Daniela stop. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. Just—" the sound of gunshots cut you off, your actions were quick. A whole lot faster than Daniela had been prepared for. You had taken her and Ellie to cover. Your own gun out and already shooting.

"Mama I can help."

You knew she could, you had taken her to cover without really realizing. "Sorry Dani force of habit. Ellie stay down okay kiddo."

The place lit up with more gun fire, all you could think about was keeping your girls safe and the need to see your two eldest and wife again.

*

"Mom raiders attacked the power plant again. There's some dead and a few injured. Uncle Karl and Dani radioed in, they're fine. Heading back as we speak." Cassandra spoke so fast Alcina didn't even have a second to panic. She was quick to get on her feet. Heading straight towards the gate. Cassandra and Bela right behind her.

By the time they made it to the gate, the gates were opening and in came in some of the power plant workers. Some caring the injured and others limping into the town. Her eyes searched the group looking for her idiot brother and her daughter.

Fear gripping her heart when she didn't see her youngest daughter at the end of the final people coming in.

"We would have been dead if it weren't for that woman."

"Oh man she was a one shot kill. Don't want to get on her bad side."

"She seemed to know Daniela and Karl."

She over heard some of the power plant workers say as they walked by. It wasn't till she saw Karl walk through the gate talking with a short auburn haired girl. Her hands were moving all over the place as she explained something. Karl for once had a gentle smile on his face as he listened. Relief washed over her body when she saw her little girl, her steps faltering when her eyes landed on who was standing next to Daniela.

You.

Her wife.

The wife she had thought she lost.

The wife she mourned to this day.

Was alive. Obviously looking a bit older but yet still as beautiful as the last time she saw you.

"Mama?!" The two older sister yelled in surprise, but their voice wobbling as they chocked back a sob. Her two eldest daughters ran towards their other mother who looked at them with so much love and guilt. Yet you hugged them tightly. Her eyes finding yours was what finally got her legs moving in such a pace that she couldn't remember doing. The feeling she had in her chest at seeing you once again. The love she had for you had never faltered. It never went away. If anything the love she had for her wife had only grown. There was no one she loved as deeply as you.

"Draga,"

It was the voice that you had dreamed of hearing. Your girls, your grown daughters pulled away. Watery smiles as they watched their parents reunite.

Hugging the slightly taller woman. To have her back in your arms as her shoulders shook from the barely concealed sobs. To have her hugging you just as tightly. She lightly pulled away cupping your cheeks in her hands. "Oh my love—"

The kiss had been one they both thought they'd never have. For it was the thought they both had feared and refused to accept. But now they both flourished to be in each other's again. To have their family reunited once again. To have the love they both shared still growing.

To be together once again as the apocalypse continued.

:)

[himluv]

Okay. I think I've twigged to a reason why this game is so polarizing for the fandom. Please, allow me to ramble about this theory in these dawn-light hours, pre-coffee.

You see, Veilguard is a fantasy. I don't mean its genre is fantasy, we know that. I mean that, for the first time, the story Veilguard tells is itself a fantasy. And a pretty explicitly queer one.

(vague and mild spoilers for Veilguard below)

A world where strict, seemingly narrow-minded mothers can accept and use their child's correct pronouns and be proud of them. And where entire organizations rally around said child to affirm them.

A world where a queer organization stands up to all flavors of tyranny, and while it may suffer great losses, is victorious in the end. Its future is one of supreme hope for lasting change because one of their founding members becomes the ruler of their nation.

A world where a common enemy ACTUALLY unites everyone to fight back and those efforts are welcomed, even from those whose ethics are questionable. Because now really ISN'T the time for in-fighting. There will be time to discuss your morally dubious recruiting methods AFTER the world-ending calamity has been vanquished.

A world where the return of a tyrant is stopped, because the people joined hands with friends, neighbors, and loved ones and refused to let go.

And then they WON.

(depending on your choices, in the end love LITERALLY wins (the love was there and it mattered after all).)

To me, Veilguard is clearly a response to its development cycle. It hit its stride during the height of the pandemic, when people were sick and dying en masse, and most people felt more isolated and helpless than they had in generations. Facism was (is) on the rise across the world. And a very queer and neurodivergent development team looked at the world they lived in, then at the one they'd created, and made some choices about the story they would tell.

And then it released mere days before the US election. I finished playing it on election night (or rather the wee hours of the next morning). And can I tell you? This queer, neurodivergent, nonbinary person NEEDED this story. This exact story.

But, maybe not everyone needed it. To my reckoning, it's the first DA game to take such a firmly hopeful and positive approach to its storytelling, and that's bound to be divisive in a fandom as... Opinionated as ours (affectionate, mostly 😂 ).

Genuinely, I am sorry if it wasn't what you wanted or expected. I'm sorry if you felt let down by your favorite franchise. That fucking SUCKS.

But know that, for some of us, it was a lifeline in a very dark and tragic week, and I suspect it will remain so in the months and years to come. I hope that, if you ever need a dose of pure hope, you might give Veilguard another try.

[alarajrogers]

I feel like two things are simultaneously true:

You are allowed to make whatever kind of art you like

Other people are allowed to criticize it for whatever reason they like

And I guess the third corollary, other other people can criticize the reasons the critiquers use.

This nuance tends to get lost in the defense against antis. When people are screaming about how "proshippers" deserve to be homeless and get AIDS, it's easy for those who want to say "ship anything you want, it's fiction" to say "none of this means anything, it's okay to ship anything at all."

And it is. In the sense that legally it's allowed, and you have every right to do it, and no one has the right to demand that an organization censor it.

But in another sense, some of this shit really is genuinely disturbing. I could give less than a shit for "problematic age gap of 17/19", but yes, racism and misogyny in fandom are disturbing and it's okay to call it out and say "This stuff bothers me and I wish people would not do it." As long as you're not calling for the authors to be attacked or using ad hominem criticisms like calling them pedophiles for stupid reasons.

I spent years saying how much incest and mentor/student ships bother me. They still bother me. I will defend to the death your right to write such ships and post them to AO3, but goddamn it, I wish you would ship something else. Maybe the cute funny m/m Asian boys and not the brothers with the 20 year age gap. (This is specifically a reference to Heroes fandom from 2003 or so, I don't even remember the year exactly.)

It used to be that it was acceptable for us to rag on specific instances of racism, misogyny, or other really squicky shit without it getting entangled in the calls for censorship. It's hard to do that now. When you're defending someone's right to make a particular kind of art, it makes it difficult to say "but personally I think it's awful and I wish they'd do something else." But I think continuing to call out racism and misogyny in fandom is important. Just... don't confuse it with calls for censorship. We can say "this is pretty bad" without saying "and no one should be allowed to do it."

I genuinely think Mouthwashing fandom is a good example on how real life misogyny is very wired on people brains and influenced how they engage with fictional misogyny.

You have a story about a woman being assaulted and telling a man he trusted but being dismissed because he is friends with the attacker, and people fixate on shipping her with either of those men.

You have a story about how men that downplay their male friends violence, assume neutrality is the safer option, unintentionally help create an environment that's unsafe to vulnerable people, at a risk becoming a victim themselves. And people make it about toxic yaoi.

You have a character kill herself because she didn't want birth the child of her abuser. And people make AUs where she happily keep the baby.

Misogyny isn't just "I hate this women", it's also downplaying their trauma, defending those who caused it, and reducing them to mothers or wives against their wished under this idea of what womanhood is about.

I don't think we can separate fandom misogyny from it's real world influence, not yet.

[owlgirl495]

ok, so i know i rarely actually post my own words on here but with the last 911 episode i’ve been wanting to say something.

i’ve been reading a lot of what people have written (and i’ve added my own thoughts in the tags of many posts) but now that i’ve had time to process a little, see what others are saying, and talk to my irl friends about it a little, there’s one thing that i’ve only seen mentioned like once and i wanna talk about some more. more people have probably mentioned this and i just probably haven’t seen it and these thoughts are subject to change and all that but here we go:

it makes me really upset how little of buck and tommy’s relationship we actually got to see. and i know that they can’t focus on a side plot like that for a super long time and that it’s not the bucktommy show but i was actually okay with only getting scraps until the breakup and here’s kind of why.

they’ve been dating for six months. SIX MONTHS. and they seem to know NOTHING about each other. and i truly didn’t get this vibe until the last episode (8x06) and i think that’s why it feels so off for me.

at the end of season 7 they looked like they were really trying to get to know each other both on and off screen, they were talking about important things with each other, and actually trying to have real conversations. and then in season 8 there’s just none of that.

i didn’t think anything of it at first because i figured they just had those conversations off-screen in the FOUR MONTHS we didn’t see. but with 8x06 it truly feels like they didn’t have a single real conversation that we hadn’t seen.

8x06 shows us that they don’t know about each others’ exs at all, buck doesn’t know how tommy views his sexuality, tommy doesn’t know that buck hates basketball, so what exactly have they been talking about outside of the silly goofyness of 911 subplots for six months??

tbh i understand having them break up (i really wanted them to be endgame but i understand if that was never actually the plan) but the way they broke up felt so wrong.

i would’ve even understood if the real reason they had broken up was because after six months they realized that they don’t actually know anything about each other but even so, until 8x06, that was never indicated. they had a couple serious conversations with each other in season 7 and since there were no hints either way, i had assumed those had continued off-screen.

to have a well-liked couple with a decent amount of screen time break up without showing us pretty much any of the actual downfall of the relationship, giving what felt like a shoehorned in reason for the breakup, and only giving us last minute hints at the possible actual reason for the relationship ending feels shitty, if i’m being real.

i know it’s just a fictional show and it’s not that serious but this really hurt. i hate how much i let this get to me but i really let this show get my hopes up. it was my main form of escapism and something that consistently made me happy outside of things in my everyday life that have been stressing me out. i thought i could sink a little further into it after the results of the election but now it’s no longer the same form of comfort for me.

i’ll probably still continue watching the show and i absolutely adore all the people i’ve gotten to interact with (even in my really small way of interacting) through this fandom but 911 does feel a little tainted for me at the moment.

i’m probably missing some stuff here and a lot of this is just rambling but that’s it for now, i hope you are all doing okay and hanging on to whatever you can to make this a little easier <3

[lover-of-mine]

what are your thoughts on nde for either eddie or buck in 8x08? me personally, im thinking buck is gonna get the nde, and i think he’s gonna be shot. tim recreating s4/5 when he originally wanted to do buddie, but what im thinking, is buck realizes his feelings for eddie but doesn’t want to/doesn’t know if he should tell him, then he gets shot and it’s all dramatic and eddie is there and freaking out, trying to save him and keep him alive (aka why they’re pushing medic eddie so much this season) and buck realizes this might be his last chance so he just goes for it anyway and while he’s bleeding out he tells eddie he loves him😭 i know this is probably not what’s gonna happen but lol i just enjoy theories and i always love to hear what you think!

adding onto this, i ALSO saw around twitter the theory that buck would get a nde, but he gets hit by a car or just in a car accident in general, and eddie is there and it parallels shannon’s death (obviously buck doesn’t die but you get the memo😆)

Hi, darling! Okay, I don't mean to shit on anyone's specs, but I think either of them getting shot again would be so uninspired. The show is slowly reintroducing new ways to pull the triggers they put down for buddie because they need to address the stuff that happened to them somehow, but a direct mirrored parallel to the shooting wouldn't work as well as everyone seems to think it would. Partially because I think that forcing Buck to confess because he (or Eddie) is dying is yet another way to take away Buck's agency and further attach Buck to the idea he's only worthy of love when someone bleeds. But also because putting one of them in the position to be doing the saving again won't really further their storyline. Eddie watched Buck in a nde twice, the bombing and the lightning, and Buck watched Eddie in a nde twice, the well and the shooting, and I think they need a combined trigger, aka a combined nde.

I am attached to my drown Buck theory, have them off duty, crash the car, end up trapped and the car filling with water, but I also think that the trapped dads theory also works a lot here, especially if you put them both in the situation while off duty, aka without gear or backup, and you can play with a lot of elements of every nde before that and create a catalyst for them to talk and figure themselves out. I also think everyone is getting ahead of themselves, I don't think they are in the place to get that catalyst yet, and 2 episodes are not enough to get them there when we are talking about an ensemble show. I feel like people are expecting a direct callback because we got a well callback and are getting a lightning callback, but while buddie was front and center during the well callback, they actually used it to further Chim at first. It works to get the audience thinking about different aspects of their past, which in turn makes it so that when they talk about it, it will be in our minds, but it doesn't explicitly address the implications with buddie. I think the lightning callback will be a lot about reminding Buck of whatever it was that he was supposed to learn with it the first time around that they never truly explored due to the network switch and Natalia not coming back. I also think that confronting the situation where Buck almost died and possibly watching a freshly heartbroken Buck be impulsive can push Eddie to look at some stuff that would push him into action to figure himself out.

Especially if @stagefoureddiediaz ends up right and the lightning callback ends up being a truck bombing callback too since the well callback is also a subtle callback to the kids on the cliff call in 304 and could be played into different directions when it comes to what comes out from it moving forward. Buddie has a lot to talk about, but they need a reason to think about the stuff they need to talk about on their own before getting to a point where they can actually have those conversations. I think they rely too much on how well they understand each other that they fail to consider the way they can't actually read each other's minds, and figuring that part out is important before pushing them to the catalyst. And please don't get me wrong, I'm like, 90% sure that the catalyst will be another nde, I just don't think it's gonna happen until 8b.

[worstdisastermaster]

The books and the shows aren't the same thing and?? That's okay?? It doesn't have to be??

Some of the artists haven't even seen the show yet, and maybe won't 🤷‍♀️ I know I've seen like. The 1st episode and that's it lol. And I really enjoyed it and I think it's really fun

But people tend to separate book fandoms from in screen fandoms, to an extent, at least, bc there ARE differences, and THATS OKAY

They are very connected but they are not the same and I don't understand why people find that so hard to accept?? Like. Genuinely I'm so confused lol

Like if someone was being disrespectful, or trying to whitewash Leah or something horrid then like. Defend her!!! (Do try to be polite tho bc people can and often do change, and they know what they have been taught until they learn more- like for example, a few years ago I had no idea ab anything lgtbq and I peob would have gotten myself canceled bc I had. No idea. Ab any of it. And despite having best intentions in heart i totally would have offended someone, and that would have crushed me, because *i didnt know*. I never would have hurt anyone on purpose, i just didnt realize what COULD hurt others on that specific topic, much less why. But now I identify with it and am learning new things ab jt every day and etc. And that's a super touchy topic for a lot of people and for good reason too! Just try to be kind first, then if they are jerks u can be a jerk back lol. Just give peopke a chnace to get better- and then PLEASE dont hold the past against them ubless they very clearly havent changed mk please please please let people grow and change and get better dont crush them before they can) anti Leah trash is. That. Trash

But why would you attack book Annabeth, just for existing? She was my childhood, and I identified a lot with her as I grew up. And guess what! I also identified with Hazel, and I do so even more now! No matter what race she will be casted as, I'm still going to imagine BOOK Hazel the way I always did. Doesn't mean I won't adore her actress, or appreciate art of the girl playing her role! But would you call me racist for drawing her as African American if her actress, was, say, Asian American? Or drawing Leo as Latino instead of Somoan? Because to me, u less I am being a jerk about it, all I'm doing is drawing the book instead of the show. Idk I'm too sleep deprived to put my thoughts into coherent words lol

I love the posts, where it's like, book Annabeth and show Annabeth holding hands. Those posts are my favorite, both because they are freaking adorable, but also. Because it's equal

They are different aspects of the same person

And

Thats

Okay

You know???

I quite literally grew up reading pjo. I read it at least once every year since I learned HOW to read, *partially on pjo*, until late middle school. I was raised on book Annabeth.

Show Annabeth is new and exciting and adorable and I'm so happy for it and I am very excited for all the people being introduced to it!!!!!!!! However, when I'm writing book pjo, I'm not swaping it out for show scenes, bc they are, in fact, different. Which, again, NOT A BAD THING. And you know what? When people from the show fandom write their scenes, they aren't going to be thinking ab the book scenes, and THATS OKAY TOO!!! And I could care less how my readers saw my characters when the read the story. I write them the way I imagine them, but it's their job as the reader to say 'no, actually :P' and swap out the appearance for one they liked better.

I did that plenty often as a kid, and i donf regeret it.

Which, ironically enough, was why my book Percy was blond until ab 6th grads XD I mixed up Luke and Percy's hair description ONCE and just. Never questioned it, though all the rereads, or looking at the covers of the books 💀 you can imagine my shock when I joined the fandom and found out Percy had black hair, instead of sandy hair like, you know, S A N D, like poseidon!!! And now show Percy is blond XD

That just proves people can imagine things how they want and jts okay- especially bc maybe, in an au, they're rifht!!! (Au being show Percy to me)

Anyways I lost my train of thought and it's almost 12 here lolll I hope I didn't say anything ill be embarrassed by come tomorrow~

Good night world :3

Hi guys, wanted to discuss something going on for a while now. What the hell is wrong with pjotwt? Like...whats wrong with this people? Do you see what they say? What they are even trying to do?

First of all, let me start by speaking about the cast. They are all wonderful children, Leah especially! She is doing an amazing job as Annabeth. But book Annabeth still exists yk? She is and she is literally white. It is not racist. But denying about a character being white in the books, even spreading hate like this...is racist. There are people out there related with Annabeth for years. People love her, every version, maybe book more maybe even the movie. How can you disrespect her like this? And most importantly, how can they attack an artist like this, with an art being so beautiful. What they are trying to do is not protecting Leah, it is spreading hate. It is awful. Making this fandom toxic, so so much.

Them trying to erase book Annabeth because she is white, trying to cover her by painting on her, shaming artists, calling people that loves her racist...What do we do about this in pjo fandom? This fandom used to be so beautiful, but now. This people are not part of the fandom in my eyes, because real fans, would respect every version of the characters, love them with their anything, even flaws. They would protect this characters because they love them, so much. And not to mention this characters are the ones Rick wrote 20 years ago, they were with us for so long.

What do tumblr think about this I wonder? Since pjo fandom is pretty active here :3

[loveandlegacy]

would love to hear more about your theory that the black rose will torture magic out of mel 👀

lol it's sort of based on nothing but scraps but let's start with the actual opening sequence. we get this glimpse of mel with hands all around her and we know now from the show that the hands are the black rose (their magic manifests as roses/thorns/grabbing hands). but also in general i think it feels kind of important that hands grabbing at a person's body are like generally regarded as a violation of that person right? like mel obviously isn't consenting to being touched, her expression is pained. to me it feels like in addition to the black rose being scary, these people are probably going to try to hurt her physically.

but why would they do that! ig maybe just to get back at ambessa for whatever their "feud" is, but if that were their only goal why would they kidnap mel and not just. assassinate her? that would certainly be more expeditious. that happens all the time. but holding mel hostage and/or torturing her feels a very specific and different choice.

in the lore, the black rose is described a cabal that has been influencing noxian politics for centuries. in the present moment they: "[exist] now to further the clandestine interests of those who can wield the magic hidden within the Immortal Bastion—with its rank-and-file composed of mundane nobles, drawn to rumors of miracles, kept in thrall and ruthlessly exploited. Even the most powerful military commander could only ever serve the cult's true masters, as they fight one another for influence in games of intrigue and conquest, both in the Noxian capital and beyond its borders." (from the league fandom wiki; emphasis mine)

but elora stated that ambessa is LOSING influence. she has been stripped of many of her holdings and seems to have been backed into a desperate corner, so it doesnt seem super likely that the black rose kidnapped mel in order to manipulate ambessa into furthering their power within noxus. she is outside the power structure for now, that's the whole reason she went to piltover in search of hextech weaponry.

instead i think it's more likely that mel has something to do with the black rose's fixation on magic and magic users.

idk how much you know or care about league lore but i'll give a quick rundown here of one particular champion who has not appeared in the show: rell. in league, she's a 16 year old girl who possesses the powers of ferromancy and whose parents basically handed her over to the black rose as a child where they trapped her in a secret academy and violently augment her power thru forced combat and painful magical-medical procedures.

people have a lot of theories about whether or not rell has some relation to the medardas but i am not trying to get into that here. i bring her up mostly to highlight the fact that the black rose's obsession with magic and magic users has shown that they're basically totally okay with torture and child abuse if it furthers their ends of producing/controlling magic users and mages.

and we know from ambessa's MV that mel is PROBABLY touched or blessed or magic-infused by the kindred in some way

idk if this magic is dormant or hidden or what but if the black rose knows about it i can imagine they would be Very interested in trying to harness it (and mel) to their own ends. and especially if it IS dormant or if mel for some reason just doesn't want to use her magic, i can see the black rose resorting to torture to force the magic out of her.

lastly we also have this shot of her from the opening!

i think this is interesting mostly because we've never really seen mel in a state of really unbridled rage. we've seen her get very angry! at ambessa. but never like full-on screaming rage. but here it is happening in the opener! obviously there are a lot of things that could get someone to this point but i do think getting abducted, tortured, and forced into magic use would definitely be. one way. for that to happen. i know a lot of people think that this shot means she's going to somehow end up agreeing with ambessa about might-makes-right but i just don't see that being an arc for her character that makes any sense. she has so firmly positioned herself as someone who opposes both noxus's ideology and ambessa's ideology that i think the only way she could possibly become this wrathful is not because she agrees with ambessa but because something so dramatic has happened to her that she's basically forced to break from her principles in order to survive.

anyway lol! this is so long 😭 i'm sure whatever happens to mel the story will be both interesting and heartbreaking 💔

[brutalfantasytarot]

Pick A Card Tarot Reading: What Your Soul Needs for Self-Care 🩵

study the images. which one are you drawn to most?

[left to right]

etsy.com/shop/brutalfantasy - for personal readings 🤍

etsy.com/shop/brutalfantasy - for personal readings 🤍

etsy.com/shop/brutalfantasy - for personal readings 🤍

PILE ONE: four of wands, seven of pentacles 💕

"what if i fall?"

"oh darling, what if you fly?"

you work too much. i see that even if you don't realize it, it's because you're trying to distract yourself from realizing you're lonely. you do want a lover, but you are in denial of that fact. you do want to live with someone. you do want to spend the holidays with someone. but you refuse to admit that to yourself and anyone else. pour yourself a glass of wine. sit alone in your apartment. light a candle. get real with yourself. pull out a paper and pen. and just write. write down all of the feelings you try to pretend aren't there. yes, it's okay to cry too. want to know a secret? the reason why you aren't seeing the results from your efforts at work is because you're stifling your true needs. go on some dates. take them seriously. be vulnerable. it's okay to be share your feelings with those who have proved they can be trusted. having all these walls up doesn't do you any good. you think it's protecting you but it's just making you lonely and feel so freaking isolated. there are good people in this world. choose them. ✨🦋

PILE TWO: the devil

"chaos makes the muse"

what kind of life do you actually want to live? I'm not sure you're doing that. i see that you're looking around at other people and listening to those around you and that has you wearing clothes that aren't your style. it has you convincing yourself that this is what you should be doing when in fact, it isn't. you can admire what someone else is doing while also knowingthat you aren't supposed to follow that same path. you are here to be an artist. get those tattoos. get those piercings. wear the leather skirt. put on the metal choker. dye your hair purple. you aren't here to be what you see around you. you are here to be different. release the chains of other people's view of you and embark on your journey of true self-expression. you were raised in a family that has you feeling so trapped and stuck. you were constantly criticized. well, enough is enough. a little bit of chaos is perfect for the soul. especially yours 🌟💘

[liskantope]

I'm going to get myself an onslaught of pushback that I in no way have time to deal with this week for making the points I'm about to make, but here goes. (I also may learn some new information from some of you, which would be good.)

Argumate's point, as a conditional statement, is 100% correct. I would also say the various Republican proposals of the past three years are, in my opinion, varying levels of reprehensible and idiotic in how poorly they're defined/enforceable. But, unless there are specific ideas on the table that for some reason I haven't heard of despite being on Tumblr and progressive social media bubbles all this time, the implication that Republicans are attacking the right to present as one pleases and choose one's name, even the right of adults to choose to medically transition, is suspect. And distorting that side's political behavior seems counterproductive.

Everything, first of all, seems to revolve around "protecting" the children rather than restricting the rights of adults.

There's clearly been a push to ban drag shows -- that is, a certain kind of performance art based around people cross-dressing (often in a sexualized way) in places where children could be exposed to it: schools, it seems sometimes public areas as well. This seems to have arisen in direct response to a quite novel trend of schools going out of their ways to show children this art when schools re-opened after COVID, not as a direct backtracking of civil rights that they were okay with ten years ago (even if in effect it is a sort of walking back of rights). For the record, I think banning drag shows in public sucks, and if I had my own kid, I would want them to be exposed to a "drag queen story hour" or two in school. But what has been happening there is a far cry from disallowing people from going about their own business cross-dressing or otherwise presenting as a given gender.

Where changing names is concerned, I can only imagine posts above this are alluding to Ted Cruz's proposal to make it impossible to fire someone for deadnaming or using a pronoun different from the referent's biological sex. (The naming thing would depend on the person's legal name; of course if they transitioned and changed their name legally -- which I realize may present its own slowness and difficulties -- there would presumably be no problem.) This seems like one of the weirder, harder-to-enforce hypothetical laws (how would one even prove that someone's pronoun doesn't correspond to their genitalia??), but it's one of those People Resent Being Forced To Utter Things They Feel Are Lies issues in the form of protecting someone from being fired for not making those utterances. I don't support it and hope it never becomes law, but characterizing it as "losing one's right to choose one's name" seems disingenuous.

Banning transition surgery and other medicine is clearly a huge thing right now but completely restricted to minors -- I think the closest I've heard to proposals for banning it for adults is (1) stretching the concept of "minor" here to age 25 due to questionable "mature brain" ideas, and (2) some bill in Missouri requiring six months of therapy before getting the go-ahead for medical treatment. It seems not unreasonable to imagine that if Republicans manage to get enough bans through for minors (by far the lower-hanging fruit, by far more popular among Americans) and are feeling sufficiently confident while running rampant, some will try to ban stuff for adults too, and there's the whole issue of which forms of gender medicine get provided by insurance and so on. I totally get a trans adult not being willing to live in a red state. At present the issue seems to be for minors, though, and again, while a rollback (one that was already happening in most of Europe I believe), it's mainly in response to something -- namely, an abrupt spike by more than an order of magnitude in minors seeking gender medicine.

I don't call for moderate stances on these issues but for some care and moderation on how we characterize them, especially at a moment when trans people are upending their lives to flee the country. I don't see how we're going to get out of this culture war mess with trans issues without engaging with what each side is actually doing (obviously I've believed the same about every type of current issue but this one has gotten especially out of control).

The state of gay rights in the early aughts was not good; criminal penalties for homosexuality were rarely enforced but were on the books in many places, there was no right to marriage, and the morality of homosexuality was hotly contested in public. Big culture war issue. In that environment, where substantive protections were lacking, Democrats could be tepid on gay rights without actively giving anything up—if, like Obama in 2008, you didn’t support gay marriage, you could still be seen (correctly) as advocating for an overall better situation for gay people, or at least one that was no worse, in contrast to your right wing opponents.

Trans rights are not in the same position. Before the big trans rights backlash started, access to gender affirming care was pretty widespread, was everywhere legal, and was a matter for private concern only. Trans people could play in school sports subject to whatever their league’s rules were, and the idea of trying to make it illegal to cross dress in public was absurd. The conservative position since has become one of an explicit rollback of rights: revoke access to gender affirming care, create new criminal sanctions to punish trans people, make it illegal for them to participate in school sports, etc.

In that environment, tacking to the right on trans issues means deciding which elements of trans rights you are willing to concede to this project of actually rolling back trans rights. The only thing comparable from the gay rights fight is maybe state constitutional amendments to ban gay marriage, or DOMA—all of which were, IIRC, passed despite gay marriage not being legal in affected jurisdictions. Their enactment, while deplorable, had no material negative affect; gay people already couldn’t get married.

And that this project of rolling back trans rights is not a particular fetish of the religious right is more worrying. Plenty of liberals and liberal institutions are pretty transphobic. Britain has been working to export its flavor of (Moderate, Sensible, Secular) transphobia to other countries in Europe and the Anglosphere. Transphobes winning these fights isn’t a status quo situation—it’s a sharp increase in repression of trans people.

In light of that, I regard calls to “moderate” on trans issues with at best scorn. I think the party of civil rights condoning the rollback of citizens’ civil rights is really bad for its brand, won’t win it more votes, and may sufficiently alienate members of the base—who are invested in the party specifically because of its historic support for civil rights—that they simply don’t bother to show up in elections.

[indieyuugure]

Hi Indie !

First of all, I truly love your version of TMNT. Your dialogues are so good and the designs are great. In terms of writing it kind of reminds me of the Webtoon comic: Batman, Wayne Family Adventures in the way that it’s a brilliant take on a famous franchise.

Also, I kind of had a question and a request.

I noticed a change of style with the color scheme you have now compare to your previous sketches. Like before, Mickey’s stickers were colored and blood was red when those elements are now in black and white. My question is why the change ? Not that it’s a bad choice or it doesn’t fit in you aesthetic, I was just genuinely wondering😁.

As for my request, well I’m French and I really enjoy doing translation either from French to English or from English to French. Therefore I was wondering if you were okay with me doing a French version of your comics ? If you’re not, I totally understand so no worry😁

I can’t wait for the next chapter !!! I wish all the best !

Aw thank you so much! I’m so glad you love the art and the writing! I’ve never read that webcomic, but I’ve heard about it before! I’ll take it as a compliment! ^v^

That is an excellent question! Basically I wanted to reduce the colors on the pages to just the colors of one of the characters items.

I’ve actually been cutting down on color usage since TMS (April’s hair and Casey’s under shirt were colored red and mauve respectively in ROTP but not in TMS) since I felt that it made for some very odd color things, like it felt like too much color be stylistic, but too little to be fully colored? Idk I just didn’t like it, so in TMS every character was allotted two colors: one eye color and one outfit color. That made it a lot simpler and drastically decreased the feeling I had about the colors.

That reason is also why I cut Mikey’s sticker colors. I did think about it, but I decided against it because it felt odd to give Mikey three colors and everyone else one. He’s not the MC, so like, it just seemed like an odd design choice to continue with.

The removal of using red for blood is a bit more complicated. I actually considered making it red in Indie TMNT, but I ended up not because of a few reasons.

1: Red is Raph’s color, it should be used as such (every character only got one color anyway, reusing the color makes it feel less special that it’s there)

2: flushing, whether because of love or illness or embarrassment or whatever, was also being shaded with red because it’s caused by blood, and I just didn’t really like the way it looked? I dunno probably a personal thing? I won’t say why cause I don’t wanna put the thought in your heads, but specifically with Donnie’s face being red from his fever in TMS, I just didn’t like it.

3: I found that the color red makes wounds more graphic. Not sure why? I found with TMS I was having to censor Leo’s wounds more than I anticipated. They were originally so much more disgusting when the red was added that I had to add a lot more black to be comfortable with the drawing. I’m satisfied with my results, I think I struck a good balance, but it did kind get me thinking since I plan to make Indie TMNT just as gory.

Its original purpose for being added was because wounds were key plot points in both ROTP and TMS and I wanted you to pay attention to them and remember them. Now, that’s not to say they’re not important in Indie Tmnt, but I found with the increased violence I was adding (because murder is okay in this comic) it felt unnecessary. Almost every fight scene has splatters of blood that aren’t really that plot related, so it’s not the same as TMS which follows 2012’s no blood or injuries in fights rule until it’s shattered. So in addition to all the other reasons listed, I felt it was fine to get rid of the usage of red for blood and other injuries in this comic.

TLDR: I want each character’s color to be special and they only get one cause I’m lazy and I think it looks cooler. Red blood makes people squeamish but black blood doesn’t 🤷‍♀️ also less important in this comic

As for your request: YES!! I’m totally okay with it, you absolutely may! I would love that! However you decide to do it, just be sure you credit me as the original author of the comic and send me a link when your done so I can post it on the comic masterpost for anyone who wants the translation to read!

Good questions! :]