#and ones that are still in active use in China no less

[melonymint753]

So I initially just wanted to add an "acktually, the dots mostly represent fire, not legs, and 熊 is also used to describe a big fire, isn't that neat! And please credit the Chinese language for the characters next time :D"

But my need to double check things made me dig a little deeper, and uh. That's not how it worked actually.

熊 is not 能 on legs.

能 WAS bear.

Look, a chonky fella with ears, legs and a little tail! That got stylized over the ages. Since OP has decided to skip over this not "too important" bit, I'm going to pick up slack and point at how the bear's legs became the two "匕"-s, the upper left part is the head, and the 月 radical, while meaning "moon” on its own, takes on a "flesh" vibe when it's part of a character. So the modern character is still a chonky fella with legs, but square.

What happens next is a bit blurry (since Baidu results are various levels of source: Just Trust Me), but people started using this word for “bear" to also express energy/ability and just. decided that 能 should exclusively mean that.

Using 熊 to mean "bear" has some element of chicken-and-egg-ness. Some places say that when people wanted a new bear character, they added fire under its original form to express how bears were warm, or could survive forest fires, and the "big fire" meaning came later. Others say that 熊 meant a big fire in the first place (a fire so strong it's like a bear, if you will), and when people decided they wanted 能 for themselves, the bear meaning got moved over.

From the above picture, you can tell that 熊 had some form of beastness pretty early on. The second character already shows the "能 over fire (火)" structure, and a cursory search says it existed in the hundreds of BC times.

So basically, humans invented a word for "bear", decided they didn't want to share an adjective with an animal (???like why), and lit a fire under it to chase away the original meaning. Now in modern times, 熊 can still mean a stubborn person, while another animal is used to describe impressive stuff: 牛, aka bull/cow. The animals still win.

Image source

Articles , all in Chinese

What I love about Japanese

Sometimes it’s frustrating. I’m learning it because I love anime and want to be able to engage with the culture, but all the shounen I-belive-in-my-friends inspiration can’t help you when you’re faced with a list of 1000 kanji to learn before you’re at the reading level of a five-year-old. Sometimes I wish I’d picked a language with a writing system that made sense. 

But then once in a while something comes along that makes it all worth it. 

Now this. This is the kanji for ability.

It’s a nice enough kanji, has some radicals of its own but isn’t too full of itself. Learning all about it isn’t too important, what you need to know is that this is the character for ability. 

Now. 

This. 

This here is the kanji for bear. As in the animal, not the verb.

That’s right. According to the Japanese language, a bear is ability 

ON LEGS

[misstycloud]

Platonic vampire father x reader

• Vampire, who is greatly feared and treated as a legend among the townsfolk. He’s the one parents tell their children will come for them unless they start to behave. Living alone for hundreds of years was alright by him, vampires were mostly solitary creatures anyhow. He slept during the day to regain his strength, then fed by nightfall. Sometimes it was just one or two humans, other times he took the lives of entire families in one giant serving. It was all simply fine- until it wasn’t. For one who had lived so long in solitude it seemed humourous to feel lonely all of a sudden.

• The vampire had not meant to have a child. It occurred without plan. However cold he may be, something urged him to keep you; the tiny, defenseless(not by human standards), and certainly hungry child he’d created. It was a hoax, that vampires could not procreate in the traditional sense; made up by the few vampire parents who did care enough about their children to ensure no one should hunt for them. If humans knew there were multiple ways and how easy it was to make more of this damned race, then the search for these children would be endless. Plus, burning the children would surely be easier than to behead a fully fledged adult monster?

• Now that you were sleeping soundlessly within his grasp, how could he ever let you go? There was no way he could let you run around like a child needs to, should the two of you live close to any civilisation. So he fled, deep into the wilderness where no one ought to find you. Yet it wasn’t too far out so it’d be impossible to find prey- especially with the help of his knowledge and ability to travel far distances. Good luck his uncle had a large castle standing empty for your use. Further luck was it that vampire father had killed him long ago, otherwise there’d be an unpleasant battle for territory.

• You were hopelessly adorable when you latched onto his wrist, teeth bared and fangs ready. They were small, but vicious. There was no question you’d be ruthless when you grew up. During the first year after a vampires birth, they had to feed from their parents. It was similar to how human babies gain nutrients from their mother whilst in the womb, and later rely on her milk to survive the harsh conditions of the outside world. He’ll find the best humans to eat so you’d be getting the finest nutrients afterwards.

• He loves getting you cute dresses and styling your hair. You’re like a fine china doll. Playing is also fun. You’re so full of energy that even he- exceeding physical abilities and all- had to take a break every now and then. He cannot count how many times he has been forced to chase you high-speed around the castle in order to prevent you from knocking anything over. An ordinary human would never have vitality to care for a vampire child. Apart from the likelihood of being drained on the spot, vampire children are very high maintenance and would tire a human beyond compare in less than a week. His favourite activity with you is teaching you to hunt. It’s a fantastic way to bond. He’ll make sure to encourage you and give you good opportunities; the complete opposite of how his parents taught him. They were rough and did not care at all, which was not rare for vampires but still.

• No matter how wonderful you looked while tearing the coachman’s throat out, vampire father would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the old days when you were younger. You didn’t have to wristfeed anymore and could do nicely by yourself. As he rested within his coffin, he reassured himself he was still needed. You would not reach adulthood until you were 150 years old, and even then you would still be his child- you would need him yet.

• Vampire father has servants who work in the castle. Maids and butlers who clean(no chefs of course) and are human. Whenever you asked your father about where they came from, he responded with ‘I took them to work here for us’. You noticed three things about the servants: they were a lot weaker than you, constantly scared in your or your fathers presence if their erratic beating heart was anything to go by, and they were often replaced. It was one night, you were reading, and a maid walked in to sweep the floor. You’d recognised her as Zoe. She was one of the only few who’d managed to stay(alive) for more than four years. However, the Zoe in your memory was youthful with dark hair and bright eyes; this one in front of you was worn down and grey.

• This realisation opened up your mind for curiosity aimed towards humans. Previously, you hadn’t really noticed them or cared. You saw them as food and disposable, just like your father did. But now you began thinking about the differences between you as species. Clearly, vampires were the superior race, being faster, stronger, more durable and free of illness. Although the loneliness of a vampire could count as a disease itself, the only inevitable, natural suffering of a creature of the night. So if vampire were superior, how come you all live in shadows? Why, despite there being fewer of you, did you not rule as royalty? And how come weak beings such as humans were almost happier than a vampires ever been? You wished to know the simple joy humans knew. You wanted to understand how they could be so happy as they were. How did they chose what path to dedicate their lives to when they had such short ones? You desired answers to the question on wether one could really be fulfilled in a mere 100 years; a lot of humans didn’t even make it past that age.

• You were more intrigued than ever. You just had to learn more about humans and their strange perspectives. They were so different from you. Unfortunately, your vampire father did not like your newest interest. He had taken you into the forest to hide you from humans and now you actively sought them out? You would end up chased or burned in sunlight! He would never allow that to happen to you. He’s your father and he’s sworn to stand by you.

He’ll protect his little doll.

[slimybeth69]

Hungry Man

Chapter Two: God The Animal

Series Masterlist | Chapter One

Chapter Summary: “…made me think about what it would be like if God the animal bit me with his razor-sharp fangs. God has huge poisonous fangs and he loves to bite people who follow the rules. If you follow the rules, God's going to kill you with his long teeth ; and I love knowing that.”

warnings/tags: DDDNE, smut, overstim, extreme dub con, coercion, lying, dubious ethics, Mister-man being sneaky as hell, reader is struggling, hearing voices.

a/n- hello, this chapter is mostly smut but with lots of little things important to the story. I hope you all enjoy <3

Mister opens the front door of his home for you with his hand pressed gently into your lower back. The smell of him hits you, like you hit the ground after falling out of the rafters– how many days have even gone by since then?

That happened yesterday– earlier this morning, technically. 

That doesn’t even make sense and you refuse to process that information because it’s ridiculous. That all happened days ago, maybe even weeks ago. You are actively fighting the memory of being inside your favorite, most safe and special place less than twenty-four hours ago. 

Why did you ever stop fighting him?

He adds weight to his touch on your body, and carefully forces you inside. Your feet shuffle along the hardwood floor just inside the entryway, his warm hand guiding you. 

The door closing makes you shudder, and a cold sweat beads at the nape of your neck. His house looks like a normal house. It looks like a house you would have seen before the outbreak, before the loss of everyone you had ever known. Before the infected, the terrible living conditions in the quarantine zones–  before the real monsters emerged from the rubble of what was civilized once. 

Mister-man’s house looks… 

Safe. 

It does look safe. It looks warm, inviting, and familiar. It’s like you’ve been here before and know your way around even though you’ve never once stepped foot inside a house in almost 12 years. The closest you’ve gotten was a dry goods storage shed the raiders used to lock up shelf-stable food products. 

Look at you, been in two houses today and you’re perfectly fine. 

They’re all trickin’ you, and you’re fallin’ for it.  

There is a fireplace and it's already lit, keeping the house nice and warm. There are stairs that lead to a second floor, and you wonder what’s up there before your eyes wander into the kitchen area. 

Joel lets his hand fall from the small of your back. “Y’like it?” He shrugs the coat off his shoulders and hangs it up on a coat rack by the door.

You shrug your one working shoulder silently as he stands in front of you to unzip your jacket. Your eyes don’t meet his, they can’t right now because they’re too busy taking in everything else. 

Joel slips your coat off carefully and hangs it up beside his, “Go on and take a look around. Get familiar with it all,” he motions for you to keep walking, go further. 

Curious feet carry you deeper into his home to inspect what Mister-man has. “Where is Puddin’?” You still don’t look at him, you just keep wandering and taking in the sounds of the logs crackling in the fireplace and the texture against your fingertips as you brush them along the wallpaper. 

His kitchen is uncluttered and smells like it’s been cleaned recently.

Make a mess. Ruin his things. Burn it down. 

“Somewhere ‘round here. Hidin’ probably.” Joel explains from behind you. “Makin’ a mess, I’m sure.” 

Puddin’s probably gone. Ain’t ever gonna see him again.

“Where’re ya’ thinkin’ he might be?” Your blood pressure rises at the thought that you’ve been lied to, that Puddin’ isn’t here and was let go in the woods shortly after you left with Maria. 

Or worse. 

The dining room smells like him too, and you wonder if there is a part of the house that doesn’t. His table is big enough to seat four and all the chairs match. There is a china cabinet with nothing in it. A few decorative pictures and knick-knacks on the wall. 

It’s a normal house. The bad ones didn’t look like this, or Maria’s. 

Traps don’t always look like traps. Tricks don’t always feel like tricks. 

“I dunno. I ain’t really pay attention to where he ran off too when I let him off leash,” Joel sighs while he follows behind you only two or three paces. You can feel his eyes boring holes into the back of your head. 

You suck your teeth rapidly several times and then call out, “T’mere Puddie-boy. T’mon,” you call in a high-pitched voice. He doesn’t come running to you like he normally would, but he’s probably just as scared as you are in a house. Puddin’s never ever been inside one!! You try not to think about it– just hope that Puddin’ is hiding, and will come out soon. 

The kitchen opens up into his living room where the fireplace is. You can see the door that leads outside where you and Mister-J had just been standing just a moment ago. 

Run. 

The couch faces the fireplace, and there is a wooden rocking chair with an overstuffed cushion to sit on adjacent to it. 

A nice place for you and Joel to sit and talk. 

Which is exactly what you wanted in the first place. All you wanted was someone to talk with, not at, or to, but with. Someone who would show interest in the things you wanted to show them, and that was Mister-J. 

“Do you wanna see the bedroom?” He asks as the backs of his fingers ghost against the curve of your ass. “Finish what we started earlier,” he adds, an octave lower than just a moment ago.

You do want that. 

Mister and his incredible cock, his large, strong hands that grip you and pull and pinch your skin while he thrusts into you. His facial hair scratching at your inner thighs, warm and muscular biceps and forearms wrapped around your middle. 

You turn to face him, eyes finally darting up to meet his gaze. “Do I get to sleep there,” you pause, expecting him to start laughing at you for having such an absurd thought, but he doesn’t, he’s quiet and waits for you to keep talking. “...or do I have a different room– my own room?” 

Somehow, for whatever reason, you want both. You want to sleep with Mister and also, have your own room away from him to go to whenever you want. 

Just like at the mall. 

The idea that you could have both makes your heart skip a beat.

He’s not goin’ to give you shit. 

With the way he’s acting, you’re not so sure about that. 

He looks slightly amused, but not annoyed, and then he slips his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, using it to pull you closer into him. “You can sleep with me,” he leans in until his lips are almost pressed against yours. His and your breaths mingle momentarily before he says, “I could make up the other room for ya’,” he growls and kisses you quickly. “I’d rather ya’ sleep with me though,” he finishes with another kiss, but this one lingers a moment longer than the other, and there is force, and pressure that hadn’t been there with the first. 

It feels like there is something behind the kiss, but that doesn’t make sense. There isn’t a word you know to describe what it feels like because it’s foreign. It makes you shiver– the little hairs on the back of your neck stand straight up. 

It’s all a trick. Just wait ‘n see, stupid girl. 

You stare at him inquisitively during the entire interaction, “Whaddya doin’?” You tip your head to the side and wrinkle your nose, one eyebrow raised after a minute of trying to learn his unspoken, untranslatable language silently in your head. 

It feels foreign because it’s new, no one has cared about you in a long time. It doesn’t feel normal, but it’s okay.

Joel snorts, shakes his head once and then grabs your right hand, pulling you gently in the direction of the stairs. “Gonna show you the bedrooms,” he’s explaining as the two of you climb to the second floor. 

You ain’t ever leavin’ this house again. 

That sweet voice is laughing at you, almost cackling. It feels horrible to be laughed at, especially by the voices inside your head. The ones that got you into this mess in the fucking first place. Without that sweet and lighthearted voice, you might not have done the things you did out in the woods. That voice was your courage, your enabler, the one who told you that you could do anything. 

Thought you could, sug. Guess I was wrong... 

You’re only human, honey. 

The hallway upstairs is dark, and long and feels more ominous than you expected it to. Part of you is screaming to turn around and leave, the other part of you is morbidly curious about the outcome if you stay. So you freeze, yank your hand out of Joel’s and stay glued to the spot at the top of the stairs. 

Mister whips around, his stance looks like he half expected to take off running, knees slightly bent and arms twitching like he’s ready to grab you. But he relaxes when he sees you standing still, your one working arm wrapped around yourself. 

“Why’s it so dark?” You ask nervously, glancing around for the light switches on the wall but you see none. 

Mister glances up, and then points to the ceiling. 

Your eyes follow, and notice the broken light fixture above you. “Oh.” 

There isn’t a sense of urgency, which you’re surprised about. You expected him to rush you, to want to get you into a room as quickly as he could. Instead he moves slowly like the snails that lived on the banks of the river near the mall. 

“You scared of the dark or somethin’?” 

You can’t tell if he’s taunting, or playfully teasing, or being serious. Nothing really makes sense anymore– one side of you is pulling towards the stairs again, itching to get to the front door; not before lighting Mister-man’s house on fire. 

The other side of you, the side closest to Joel feels like it’s magnetized and he’s your polar opposite. It’s hard to escape the draw that is Mister-J and his half-smirks and deep voice, the way his arms feel wrapped around you. 

“I ain’t scared,” you lie sassily, the words stitched with apprehension. “Just can’t see where m’goin’.” You are frightened by what could be hiding behind these doors in the darkness.

Probably a lil prison just for you– ‘n Tommy helped him fix it all up for ya’. 

That is a possibility. This wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve been tricked by someone being kind to you. Mister-man and his nice tone, and his kisses. His sultry voice talking about fucking– he absolutely might be trying to trick you. 

You wait for some reassurance from the dark voice– but it doesn’t come. 

Stupid girl. Why did you ever stop fighting him?

Mister snaps his fingers in front of your face and it makes you flinch. 

Instinctively, your right hand swats his fist away but he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you close to him again. 

“Where were ya’ just now?” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper. His grip on your wrist tightens as you try to pull away. 

His question confuses you because you haven’t moved from this spot since you got to the second floor. Before you have more time to think about what he could mean, he adds on more words that continue to puzzle you.

“You do that a lot,” he adds as he begins to take steady but deliberate steps backwards, further into the darkness, closer to those mysterious doors. The void starts to envelope Mister, the shadows licking and dancing across his face as he pulls you further down the hallway. 

It’s ya’ last chance, Sug. 

It’s hard to breathe, and Mister-man is crowding your every sense. His once welcoming, comforting smell is now overwhelming and makes your mouth hot. Saliva pools under your tongue and you can’t remember how to swallow. 

Gotta make a run for it. 

Where is the dark voice!? You need it now more than ever to calm these nerves, to make this boulder in your stomach revert back to the pebble it was only moments ago. 

You just have to trust, honey. 

Can’t trust not one thing, not nobody. ‘Specially not a Mister-man. 

There are too many sounds inside your brain, and too many feelings happening in your chest. Your heart and lungs and everything else hidden behind ribs, tendons and flesh have been replaced with a hive of angry hornets. You’re buzzing, and in the worst way. 

“Hey,” Joel’s voice sounds like it’s so far away, like it could be coming from the atmosphere. 

The sound doesn’t grip you, or pull you back from floating away from him. The darkness is suffocating; too much and taking over. 

Joel watches you slip further and further away, his eyes adjusting to the dark quicker than yours. He’s more accepting of the things hiding in the dark than you must be. Joel isn’t afraid of the dark. He’s afraid of what he can see, once a brain processes something– it has to work hard to get it out– and some memories are etched so deeply that they never leave no matter how hard the brain works.

Some memories are never forgotten.

“Hey,” Joel cups your face with one hand, your chin resting on the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. Your brow crinkles, but you don’t respond otherwise– you don’t see him and you’re not trying to. You’re disappearing back inside of yourself and it’s strange the way it happens so fast sometimes. “Hey!” He tries again. This time he lets your wrist go, and your arm falls limply to your side and dangles there. 

Joel snaps rapidly in your face. 

You flinch and retract from him, trying to free your face from his grip but he holds you tight enough to keep you from backing away. 

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t–” you’re mumbling, barely audible. “I can’t, I sh-should, I won’t, I want to. I c-can’t. I ca-can, can’t.” 

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” He wraps his free arm around your waist and pulls you close to him. Two stumbled steps and you’re crashing into him; he has to hold you upright as your legs betray you like a newborn foal’s would. 

“Trust him. I can’t trust him-” You’re on the verge of tears. Your eyes are wet, red and distant; looking right at Joel, but not truly seeing him. 

He doesn’t know where you are inside your head, or what you’re putting yourself through, what you’re forcing yourself to relive. “Trust who, babydoll?” He knows. He knows before you tell him, he can feel it dripping out of your pores in the form of a cold sweat. He needs to hear you say it, though. He needs to hear your sweet, soft voice say it. 

“Ca-Can’t trust… anyone,” you snivel quietly. “‘Sp-specially not a– a M-Mister-man,” you’re hiccuping now, unable to catch your breath. 

Joel comes to a stop with his back against something solid, he keeps you held against him with the arm still around your waist, the other slips behind him and he searches blindly for the doorknob. “That ain’t true. You can trust Mister-man. He ain’t ever gonna hurt ya’.” 

The door opens, and light spills out into the dark hallway, illuminating your terrified face and bleary eyed stare. 

The light snaps you out of it, the light brings you back to him, but you stiffen and push your right hand against his chest, brows pulled together angrily. 

“Get off me! No, no, no, no, no!” Your once sadly sweet voice is now deep and angry, eyes once again, looking right at Joel but it’s like he’s not even there, looking at someone else possibly. “Get off’a me! Don’ fuckin’ touch me!” You shriek. 

Oh, someone is gonna be hearin’ all of that– wonder what they’ll be thinkin’...

His body reacts before he can think about what else to do, how else to calm you down. Joel spins you around in his arm and then slaps one hand over your mouth as you continue your loud protesting. 

Whatever was holding you together, snaps… and violently. Your arms punch and flail in every direction, legs kick and slam into his shins as he drags you further into his room. 

Joel is too old for this, too tired to be dealing with this shit. “Enough’a that,” he’s straining as he’s pulling you closer to the bed. “

From behind his palm your loud muffled objections are now only his to hear. 

You know what she needs. You know what’ll make her your pliant lil pup. 

The back of Joel’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he sinks down into it, bringing you with him. Joel presses the side of his mouth to your ear as he pushes himself further up the bed with his boot clad heels until his back touches the headboard. “Here we go,” he murmurs to you as he settles. His palm still rests over your mouth, his other wrapped around your waist.

You sob silently behind his hand, your fists are pathetically punching against his thighs and hips in protest, body slowly going limp in his grasp. 

Wonder when the last time she slept was…

He feels like that’s slightly condescending- you’re not a baby that needs a nap to stop being grumpy. He knows that you’ve been through things that have traumatized you, that have helped shape you into who you are today– good and bad. 

“Hey– ya’ sleepy? Need a good night’s sleep next to Mister?” He mumbles against the side of your face. 

It’s been something that’s been eating away at him for days. Since he broke the news to you about Harley Quinn and Joker, and how their love wasn’t what you thought it was– you had skipped out on him. 

For almost a week you had been gone, or hiding somewhere that Joel couldn’t find you. There had been nights in the mall that he had sworn he could feel you there with him, but you weren’t in the bed or even the mattress store at all. You were avoiding him, and that made him feel two things. 

Furious. So angry that he was sure the next time he saw you– he was going to kill you no matter if it took his life too. How could you just leave him with no weapons? No extra supplies, a fucking opossum to look after. Where the fuck did you run off to? 

He felt something else too, but he’s still not exactly sure what it was; he wasn’t just furious, something else was woven into the fibers of that anger, and he just couldn’t identify its origin- or reason. 

He kisses the top of your head as he adjusts the two of you to sit more comfortably, with you in his lap rather than just laying between his legs with your back pressed against his stomach. 

Now with your back against his chest, his legs pinning yours between together gently. “You gonna be a good girl for Mister? Remember where we’re at?” He rubs his hand across your stomach slowly, moving it up to tease the valley between your tits and then over your collarbone before repeating the motion back down your body. “Ain’t no one gonna hurt ya’, or get ya’-- not while I’m here, ok?” 

With scrabbling fingers starting to grip his jeans under your thighs, you nod your head slowly, and Joel removes his hand over your mouth. You don’t tell or scream, or start to fight him, but you don’t make any other sounds or move at all. 

Joel wasn’t sure what to do now– he honestly hadn’t really expected all this to happen. He had expected you to explode once you found out how many people were really in Jackson, he expected you to act crazy once the patrol people found the two of you. He had expected you to fight when Maria and Tommy wanted to split the two of you up. 

He thought once he got you inside, through the front door– he was in the clear. If you were going to fight him again– it should have been outside his house. 

Now he’s got you back, and he had planned to fuck you into this mattress, make you love him again and then, just keep you preoccupied enough until you forgot about the mall completely. 

“Whaddya need from me?” He whispers, continuing his slow tracing movements across the front of your body, the tips of his fingers brushing along the waistband of your jeans mindlessly. He’d give you anything you asked for. 

There is only the sound of both of you trying to steady your breathing, trying to slow your hearts pounding. He can feel yours with his hand every time he moves it across your chest, and he knows you can feel his thudding against your back. 

“W-Wanna–” you hesitate, and you’re trembling against him now. 

Joel has to push the unprovoked rage down because you haven’t said you wanted to go back to the mall yet, but he knows you do. It’s all you said on the way here, and if you start asking again after the deal he made with you– he’s going to lose it. 

“What? Wanna what, babygirl?” His hand moves down one thigh and then back up, over your jeans covered mound, down the other thigh– an addition to the pattern he had been tracing before. 

The trembling turns into full on shaking, he half expects you to start crying again, but he brushes the backs of his fingers of his other hand across your cheek gently, and he tips your head to the side, and leans forward to look at you. 

“What’re you shakin’ for?” 

Your eyes meet his, watery and red still, chin trembling softly. “Wanna know you’re not mad at me,” you say it fast, high pitched and strained, face twisting as the tears fall. “That you’re not trickin’ me ‘n aren’t ever gon’ let me go outside again, ‘n keep me all chained up—” you choke back a sob as Joel wipes the tears off your face, not saying a thing. “Th-That you didn’t hu-hurt Puddin’ or let him go–” 

Joel interrupts you, “I wouldn’t ever hurt Puddin’,” he shakes his head and shifts forward an inch more when your sobbing takes over, the words no longer coming out. He wonders if you even heard what he said, or if you’re being sucked back into your own head again. “Puddin’ is here in the house somewhere. Probably in the basement– I’ll go look for ‘em if that’ll make ya’ feel better,” he offers. “Would seein’ him make you feel better,” he asks over your crying. 

You’re trying to reel it in, piece yourself back together. You nod, sniffling. Joel pinches your nose together gently, clears your nostrils and wipes his hands on the back of his shirt. Your eyes meet again, “Yeah, that would make me feel a lil better,” your voice wavers, still unsure of the situation around you. 

Joel hooks his index finger under your chin so you can’t look away, “I don’t wanna do any of that stuff to ya’,” he shakes his head from side to side. “Brought you back with me so ya’ could see what this place was like,” he rubs his thumb under your plump and worried bottom lip. “See that it ain’t like where you came from,” his eyes can’t help but flicker down to your pout before he’s back to looking into your eyes. 

“What if I don’t like it?” 

“I told ya’ what would happen if ya’ didn’t like it– but we haven’t even been here two hours,” Joel gives you a knowing look. 

Your body shrinks back into his and your bottom lip starts to tremble again. 

“You gotta give it a chance– a real one. Gotta try– ‘cause why?” He raises both eyebrows at you and waits. “What’re you gonna make a good effort for?

You blink once and then drone back to him, “‘Cause the only way Mister-man will love me is if I try.” 

The deal makes complete sense to you. There wasn’t a thing that didn’t make sense. You still feel wrong as you speak the works back to him monotonously. “‘Cause the only way Mister will love me is if I try.” 

‘Cause it ain’t ever gonna fuckin’ happen. He’s never gonna love you. 

He was never going to love you at the mall, he couldn’t love you there. 

Joel waits for more, waits for the rest as if you maybe had forgotten the most important part of the deal. 

“And if I really don’t like it…” you trail off and wait for him to produce a collar with a lock on it, and a chain that attaches because you’re not sure if he meant it. It felt too good to be true. “We can go back.” 

Joel looks proud, his eyes are crinkled at the corners, and he’s got his familiar half-smile that warms you from the inside, out. “Good girl,” he gives your chin a gentle pinch before he leans back against the headboard and pulls you into his chest again. “You wanna go look for Puddin’ with me?”

The idea of being in here alone, where he might lock the door on you once it’s shut– trapping you inside for however long he wants. 

This whole time you had been in this room, fighting to be free, accepting your horrendous fate– whatever it may be– being comforted by the man you had assumed to be your captor. 

He is your captor– are you fuckin’ thick?

His room looks normal and clean, it looks like something you’d see out of a catalog from the mall when you first got there. A nice comforter with corresponding pillowcases. Two bedside tables with matching lamps sitting on both. The walls were painted a familiar beige that made you feel small, and helpless for some reason. 

Mister slides his hands down the front of you, exploring you, feeling you. Everything about it makes your head spin. 

“We could go look for ‘em later,” he murmurs suggestively in your ear as he palms your tits over your shirt gently. “Never got my chance t’finish makin’ you feel good earlier.” Mister’s accent drawls on as he continues to grope and squeeze at your chest with insistent fingers. 

When you had been ambushed earlier by the group of patrolies, Joel had been trying so hard to calm you down in the only way he knew how– to make you feel good. 

All the emotions from the day- from possibly losing Mister-man, thinking you were going to die, then being dragged through the woods on a leash and being zapped to shit every time you tried to make a run for it, or fight him- boiled over right as the lights from the settlement or compound, or whatever it was fucking called, started to show in the distance. Then you fell apart. 

Joel was just trying to put you back together. 

Trying to trick you, play games with your head. 

Mister presses his mouth against your neck, one of his massive hands sliding down your stomach and to the waistband of your jeans. “Just like makin’ you feel good,” he murmurs as his fingers slip between your skin and the fabric like he’s practiced this before. The pads of his ring and index finger trace the seam of your cunt slowly.

Your head lols back against his shoulder, legs instinctively falling apart as he dips those same two fingers into your entrance. “I know,” you’re whispering with a dry mouth, nodding in agreement. Your eyes flutter while he slides his thick digits into you slowly. 

The both of you groan in unison at the way your body molds around him as he pushes deeper, the “Might be the only thing I know how t’do right anymore,” he almost growls into your ear. His forearm grips you around your torso, his hand still cupping and pawing at one of your tits as he holds you close to him. 

You groan in displeasure as he withdraws from inside you, turning your head to look up at him with your brows pinched together. “What’re ya’--”

Mister’s lips crash against yours, and his mouth opens; his tongue licks at the inside of your cheeks the minute you part your lips like he’s late for an appointment. Then he’s moving between your legs, hovering over you, leaning you back gently against the pillows. He pulls away from the kiss and looks at you with dark, blown-out pupils that make his eyes appear almost completely black. His chest is heaving, and so is yours as you try to catch your breath, but he’s staring at you like he could tear you apart piece by piece. 

He’s going to. Sink his fangs into you and rip you open.

Silently, his deft fingers pop open the button on your jeans, and his calloused hands push them down your thighs, and then he pulls them off your body completely. Now you’re bare– exposed to him from the waist down. He still says nothing while he takes in the sight of you like this, his knuckles ghosting along the inside of your thigh as he trails it up towards your core.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he speaks quietly, almost so low you can barely hear him while he gazes down between your legs. “She’s mine,” his eyes flash up to yours as two fingers find their place buried inside you, his thumb rubbing lazy circles around your now throbbing clit.

You respond with a quiet moan, and a slack jaw as he curls his fingers up towards your stomach, against that perfect spot nestled inside of you that makes you warm everywhere. Everything is right and incredible, and there isn’t anything that could make this bad– not one single thing. 

That’s why he’s doin’ it– so you feel like this. Tryin’ to trick ya’, ‘n you’s fallin’ for it. He’s poison.

Mister thrusts impossibly deeper, jolting you, almost pushing you backwards with the force of it, demanding you to look at him, really see him while he pulls back and then thrusts forward again. “You heard me?” He questions as every muscle inside of you tries to keep him inside of you. 

“Wha–” 

He doesn’t let you finish. He pushes the heel of his hand against your clit while he curls his fingers rapidly inside of you, “I said,” he leans forward and braces one hand against the headboard just above your shoulder. “This pretty pussy is fuckin’ mine,” he growls and switches back to plunging his fingers into you again, as deep as he can. 

It’s so hard to keep your focus when he’s making you feel so fucking good, your eyes close as the pleasure closes in on you- but Mister lets out a loud, sharp whistle that makes them snap open. 

He’s shaking his head already, a mischievous smile on his face. “Nuh-uh. Y’know better– you look at me,” he pulls his fingers from inside you once again and sucks them into his mouth. 

“M’sorry,” you whine quietly, desperate for his touch, desperate for that release that you’ve been denied for so long. Mister chuckles as he laps and sucks at his digits, ravenous for your taste. “She’s yours– you’re right. She is.” You nod in agreement as you babble.

Mister releases his fingers with a loud, wet pop and then reaches for his waist. “Oh, I know she is,” his belt jingles as he gets it open and he pulls his zipper down. “Needed to make sure you know,” Mister pushes his jeans to mid-thigh, watching you watching him in amazement as he lets his hard, angry looking cock slap against his lower stomach. 

Your mouth starts to water at the sight of him, every vein is throbbing, and the dusky skin of his shaft now red and the tip of him is almost purple and drooling. 

All for you. He’s yours, too. 

“S’all for me?” The blood is pounding in your ears, and your eyes flash up to catch him nodding at you. 

One of his thick hands grasps the base of himself and squeezes tight. He settles on his knees, your legs draped over either of his thighs as he scoots himself closer to you. His voice rumbles in your ear as he slaps his shaft against your folds, and you feel how thick and heavy– how ready he is for you. 

What he says doesn’t register. How could it when you’re watching him drag is cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your slick. He rocks his hips back and forth, the friction on your clit is delicious and you arch your hips up to meet him. 

Joel uses his free hand to hold your hip, and he squeezes, digging his fingers into your skin. “Y’aint fuckin’ listenin’ to me,” he barks at you, halting his movements and pushing you back down into his bed. 

Your eyes meet him once again, and he’s unreadable- he’s not exactly the same man you met in the mall. There is something new, something unknown about him now. It’s like he’s taken a mask off and you recognize his voice and his touch but you don’t know him anymore. “Sorry–”

Mister stares at you while notching himself at your entrance. “No need t’be sorry,” he breathes out as your aching hole flutters around the tip. “Just listen to Mister,” he pushes in a fraction of an inch and you’re not sure if he’s teasing you, or trying to make it last longer. 

A sigh leaves you as the burn from the stretch settles inside you, the pain mixed with the pleasure. The pleasure mixed with every other emotion. All of it is so good. “M’listenin’ now,” you nod your head, fighting the urge to look down at where you’re joined. 

Joel nods his head in approval, and rubs circles on your hip with his thumb. “You’re mine,” he rasps out as he pushes forward again. “All of ya’.” He lets go of the base of his shaft and uses that hand to hold your other hip. He pulls you against him while thrusting into you, and bottoms out. 

You let out a loud, filthy groan as the tip of him kisses your cervix immediately. Your right hand reaches for him, wrapping around his wrist as he keeps his grip on your waist. “Oh f–fuck.”

He is perfect. 

“All mine,” he grunts and holds himself inside of you, allowing you to adjust to his size, to mold to him like you always do. “Ya’ hear me that time or do–” he cuts himself off with a low groan as he pulls back an inch and then pulls you back down onto his shaft. 

“H–heard ya’,” you moan, nodding back at him in additional confirmation. “I’m yours.” Your walls clench around him, body reacting to the idea of being his. A new, wet wave of arousal coats his cock while he’s still inside of you. 

Joel snickers, feeling your immediate ratification leaking around him. “Oh ya’ like that, babydoll? Like bein’ mine?” He growls pridefully, his hips picking up speed. 

You barely recognize that you’re a real person when he’s inside of you, when he’s close to you like this. Everything makes sense while also meaning nothing at all. As long as Mister is here, as long as he wants so badly it feels like he needs you. “Uh-huh,” you babble, eyes finally closing and resting back against the pillows. “L-Love it.”

Joel leans over you, bracing himself on one forearm, “Yeah… I know,” his other hand keeps its grip on your hip as he continues his crescendoing pace, fucking you open for him and dragging the defined ridge of his cock against that spot– that place only he knows how to reach and touch over and over again. That place that makes you breathless and leaves you sometimes sobbing underneath him.

Tonight you’re moaning loudly, on the verge of potentially being too loud– but no more tears, no more fear inside of you. It’s just Mister making you feel like you’re weightless: he is the source of all your pleasure and you’ll never find a feeling like this again without him. 

Joel presses his temple against yours and you feel him; slick with sweat and warm like the day you met at the tail end of the summer last year. “Feel so fuckin’ good,” he half whispers, half grunts into your ear.

The room’s filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing and skin slapping against skin. There is something primal about the way he’s touching you tonight. His teeth graze the skin of your cheek, and then he nips at you, pinching the skin hard enough to make you whimper.

His hips never falter, sawing back and forth, cock slamming into you like this is a punishment, like he’s angry with you, like he hates you– “S’my turn,” he murmurs with his lips pressed to the shell of your ear. “Take care of ya’,” he grunts as his hips snap into yours, punching the air right out of you. “Keep you safe now.”

His words resonate with you, almost doing more for the intense coiling in your belly than the feeling of him inside you. “P-Please don’t stop,” His sentiments do more than the way he hitches your leg up on his shoulder and suddenly reaches parts of you that feel devastating in the most incredible and blissful way possible.

“S’my good girl,” he pants into your ear at your pliability. His deep voice praising you has your walls clenching around him. “Fuck,” he groans breathily, feeling you flutter around him. 

His hand leaves your hip and slides it between your bodies to rub circles around your clit again, slow but deliberate, meaningful and precise movements that have your back arching off the bed. Ministrations he’s learned that you like– and remembered them so he can make you feel this way over and over again. That tight, hot ball of goodness is growing in your lower stomach, and it’s tearing desperate, ragged noises out of you that you didn’t even know you could make.

“Don’t stop– Don’t stop,” your right hand slides up the curve of his shoulder and behind his neck before your fingers card through the thick mess of gray and brown curls. His voice is going to push you off the precipice. 

Mister incredibly increases his speed and you worry for a moment that you’re going to be fucked up the headboard behind you until you feel his hand on the top of your skull, sliding down to cup your head close to him. 

“Talk– please t-talk,” you plead airily against his neck. “Don’t stop talkin’.” 

Joel presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, his hips hammering into you still. You can feel him grinning against your skin for a moment before he pulls his chest away from yours. He holds your leg against his torso. He suddenly looks like he’s in pain, but the grimace disappears from his face just as quickly as it had shown up. 

“You–” You’re about to ask if he’s alright, if he wants to switch positions but he Mister cuts you off. 

“Shut up–” He rasps, hand exploring your thigh and shin, lips pressing into your ankle. It’s a familiar picture. He kisses you there whenever he fucks you like this. 

At the mall sometimes he would bite you there, nipping at the bone, and then the sensitive skin on the top of your foot before he pulled out to finish on your belly.

Tonight it’s different. Everything in the room feels charged– ready to zap you dead if you touched anything but Mister. He’s grounding you, keeping you safe right now. 

“Lil pup needs me, huh?” He sounds like he’s teasing you, but the words go right to your core and you clench around him again, tighter and more rapidly your walls flitter and constrict. 

You let out a pathetic whine because yes, you do need him. That scares you and makes your cunt throb at the same time. 

“Say it,” Mister continues his touch on your sensitive clit, rubbing in faster, sloppier circles. It doesn’t matter how precise his touch is anymore because you’re so close. 

Everything inside of you is taught and ready to explode. “Y-Yeah,” you pant nod your head rapidly.

“Need what?” Mister purrs deeply, seemingly already satisfied by the fucked-out look on your face, or the actual, desperate need behind your eyes that has been building for him and him alone. His thumb rubs furiously around your nub, his leaking tip pushes so deeply inside of you that you swear you can feel it in your stomach. 

Your mouth hangs open silently as your impending orgasm shoots sparks from your lower belly to the rest of your body. 

Joel’s palm connects with the side of your thigh hard enough to hear the smack echo off the walls of his room. The sting settles into your flesh, and you bite your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. 

“C’mon– lemme hear your pretty voice say it” Mister’s voice is low and demanding– just what you needed to tip you over the edge. 

Your chest heaves, and you sob loudly, “Need you, need you, need you!” Everything is hot, and good- your legs twitch as the waves of pleasure crash over you again and again. The stress and the worry that had been building up a hard shell around you being eroded away with each broken moan that leaves your raw and tender throat. 

Mister-man doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop his brutal pace he set. He instead begins to rub your clit rapidly with four stiff fingers. “Atta girl” he growls into the side of your calf. Then he sinks his teeth into you. 

“Oh fuck–” you groan, letting your head fall back against the pillows again as the bliss courses through all the nerves and veins you have. “Oh my god,” you keen loudly, back bowing off the bed dramatically. 

Mister sucks on the spot where he just indented marks of his teeth into your skin. His tongue laves at the sore, tender skin like he’s hungry for your taste. “S’right– so fuckin’ pretty when you come on my cock,” he’s grunting, fingers working feverishly over your clit to bring you there.

Your shoulder hurts as your arm moves so you can try and sit up on your elbows to watch him, but you don’t care– it’s not nearly as bad as missing out on the view of him splitting you in half, watching the way you obscenely stretch open for him. You whimper at the sight.

Mister’s forehead is damp and his hair clings to it, the column of his throat is red and also stippled with beads of sweat that drip down behind the fabric of his flannel shirt. His forearm holds your leg close to his chest as he rests his head against the side of your foot, gazing down at you. 

He’s handsome and loves to make you feel good. 

It’s all a trick. 

It doesn’t matter right now if it’s a trick, or if he’s genuine with why he’s doing what he’s doing- it feels so good– teetering on the edge of being too good. Too much. All at once it hits you like a tsunami. 

“Ok, ok, ok, ok!” You’re squealing and half trying to crawl away from him, but he holds you tight by the thigh and keeps up the speed of his fingers on your clit, his thrusts pummeling you into near blurry vision. 

He doesn’t care, he loves this, loves to see you like this. He whispered it to you once late at night in the darkness of the mattress store after he made you feel good over and over, again and again. Mister just chuckles at your useless, and half-hearted begging and his thrusts slow, but each one is deep and touches the furthest parts inside of you. 

It’s going to happen– your legs are shaking and your fingers dig into the sheets below you to hold on to something because it feels like you’re about to float away and explode all over again in such a different way. 

Joel grunts again, his thrusts becoming more erratic and clumsy, his fingers dip into the flesh of your upper thigh and you watch his knuckles go white. “C’mon– know ya’ got one more in there for me.” His voice is strained and you can tell he’s close too. 

And of course you have another one for him, you always do and he knows it. He knows how to draw it out of you and make you gush. 

The only sound you can make is a strained whimper as you come again, this time all over his lower stomach and pelvis. Joel groans loudly, and keeps his fingers strumming your clit rapidly while he knocks your leg off his shoulder and pulls out. 

He strokes himself with his free hand a couple of times, chasing his own release now that he’s given you more than you could ask for. He drags the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip, looking down at you with hooded eyes. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he groans again, his fingers finally give you some much needed relief as they leave your clit. The pad of his thumb presses into the top of your slit and he pushes up– pulling you taught as he rubs the tip of his cock against your red, puffy and swollen lips. He moans loudly, hips bucking forward, fucking his fist as he splashes his cum against your cunt. 

You watch in fascination and adoration as he rubs the head up and down as he throbs with each release. He milks himself, and coats the outside of your pussy in his spend before he gives the side of your thigh another slap, gentler and more appreciative this time. 

“You stay there,” he pants softly, and begins to crawl off the bed. 

All the good feelings leave you immediately and fear rips through you again, “Where ya’ goin’?” You ask, scrambling after him, hissing loudly when your shoulder screams in protest. 

Joel turns around, already stuffing himself back into his Jeans with his finger pointed at you sternly. “I said stay there,” he’s firm when he says it, and gives you a look to match. 

You stifle the whine that builds in your throat as he stares you down– unblinking as he waits for you to lay back down. “You comin’ right back?” You ask, settling yourself back into the soft pillows behind your back. 

Joel nods silently, and heads into the bathroom attached to his bedroom and disappears. 

Then you are all alone in his room.

You hear the water turn on, and then off and he’s back in the doorway, his shirt partially unbuttoned with one hand still working on it and then a wet washcloth in the other. 

“Open’em,” he orders gently, much more gentle than he had been only a moment ago. His tone is inviting, and calming– caring. 

You let your legs fall apart, and Joel looks up at you, catching your eye as he rubs you clean, not too rough and careful of your oversensitive parts. 

“Thank you,” you whisper to him, blinking slowly in admiration of his handsomeness, even with his messy hair and scratched face and black eye. That you gave him. “Sorry for hurtin’ ya’,” you add just as quietly even though you mean it. 

Joel shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head softly. “Know you didn’t mean it.” 

You nod your head, “Was just a lot goin’ on, ‘n I got all confused–”

“S’like you didn’t even see me,” he starts, finishing undoing the buttons on his shirt. “-but you were lookin’ right at me.” He’s done cleaning between your legs and tosses the washcloth into his hamper. 

You feel the embarrassment crawling up your chest and neck– growing behind your cheeks. There isn’t anywhere to run to, or to hide. There isn’t a distance far enough away that Mister can’t reach you now, and that’s terrifying. 

“Almost like you went somewhere else entirely,” he keeps talking as he pulls his flannel off, leaving him in a white t-shirt. “Did it earlier out in the hall.” He gives you a look, like he knows but he doesn’t really understand. “Where do you go?”

If only he knew.

Try and explain it to him. 

He’ll think you’re crazy. Crazier than he already thinks you are. 

You avoid his eyes, and look for something to cover your lower half with instead. Joel notices and goes to his drawer and tosses you a pair of his boxers. 

“I had pants from–”

“We are very grateful for Maria and her charity but you don’t need it– don’t need her clothes, or her help. I’ll getchya everything you need, don’t worry ‘bout that.” He shakes his head as he watches you struggle to put the boxers on with one hand, and laying down. 

“She was just bein’ nice–”

Joel cuts you off again, “She was very nice to let you shower ‘n borrow some clothes, yes.” He agrees with you, but you can tell there is more to come. And you’re right. “I’m fully capable of gettin’ you everything you could need, and so we don’t have to take nothin’ from Maria and her donation box–” he pauses for a moment and sighs. “--when it could go to someone who really needs it. Ya’ don’t really need it.” 

That sounds very nice of Joel, very kind and protective– but there doesn’t feel like there is any truth to his words. It’s confusing. 

Something in your brain is itching to ask why Maria doesn’t like Mister and why Mister doesn’t seem to care for Maria. But you don’t. You keep quiet and just nod your head. 

“Do you wanna come with me ‘n look for Pud?” Joel asks, pushing his hair back away from his face with one hand. He looks tired, and you feel badly for him– feel badly for how you had treated him the last week before the raiders came. 

“We can wait ‘till the mornin’ if you wanna go to sleep,” you offer softly, scooching over to one side of the bed to give him room. 

Joel’s eyes flick between you and the space next to you and he sighs softly. “I know seein’ him would make you feel better- probably sleep a lil’ better too,” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes drifting back to you after a second. “He’s here. I promise I didn’t leave him– or hurt him…” Joel shakes his head. “I wouldn’t do somethin’ like that to you or Pud.” 

Those words sound genuine. He means it, and you know he’s telling you the truth and that warms something inside of you, eases some of the ache and tension. 

“‘Kay. Can ya’ help me–” You don’t even have to finish before Joel is reaching over and helping you unclasp the sling your left arm is still in. He helps side your arm out, and then he unbuttons the shirt you have on. 

“Got a shirt you can wear t’bed,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against the curve of your tits as he slides the flannel off of you. 

He tosses the shirt you were wearing down to the floor with the jeans and heads back to his dresser. He comes back with a plain black tee and helps you slide it on as painlessly as possible. 

“Ready?” He asks, crawling into bed beside you– sleeping on the wet spot you made like it’s his preferred sleeping method. 

You nod at him, and push the comforter down with your feet and let him cover the both of you back up. He turns the light off on his bedside table, and reaches over doing the same to yours. 

When you sleep with Mister, you normally curl up into his side and he wraps an arm around you– but tonight that hurts and you opt to lay on your back. 

He’s next to you, throwing an arm over your waist and draping his leg over one of yours, pulling you close to him gently. “This good?” He asks softly in the dark. 

It’s more than good– but you still feel dread buried deep within you and it’s clawing its way through the fleshy parts inside. “Yeah,” you turn your head and press a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“If you try ‘n run away– I’ll come lookin' for ya’,” he whispers, kissing at your jaw as you turn your head to look at the ceiling. 

“I know,” you’re quiet like he is, running your fingers along his forearm. 

“And you won’t like what happens when I find ya’.” 

tag list: @probablyreadinsmut @lilac-boo @pedrospookie @ghoulettesinspace @itwasntimethatdidit40 @itsokbbygrlbutworsethistime @baronessvonglitter @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @joelmillerisapunk @pastelpinkflowerlife @tateypots @toxicrecs @the-orange-tabby-cat @gothcsz @almostempty @cubiclehoe @codenamekitten @shivispunk

^^ please let me know if I forgot you or you want to be added!!

[ginandvodka-writes]

Earthquake

Tw: A small eartqueake.

As someone who lives in a country (and city) that's located in a very seismic zone, I was wondering, what about a TF141! Reader who's from a country with high seismic activity? Like China, Japan, Indonesia, Iran, Chile, Guatemala, Mexico, etc...

Just imagine.

You are their medic, so you must go with them on every mission. You don't complain, they're true gentlemen with you, treat you as family (and if you want you can be dating one of them) and on top of that, the pay is more than good.

Well, a new mission comes, you all must go to a seismic country. Everything goes fine, no injuries more than a few scratches, muscle pain and the typical fatigue. Until 2 weeks before your arrival while you all are checking a large, apparently abandoned building, completely alert, controlled and composed, an earthquake occurs. It's a medium one, not light but not dangerous either.

You are used to it, you’ve experienced worse earthquakes more than twice after all.

But they?

Poor English (and Scottish) men. They've never experienced it, it's new for them. So, when the first movement comes you stay calm and since the nearest exit is far away you sit with you back against a load-bearing wall, covering your head with your arms. However, they panic, they don't know what's happening so their first thought is "we're under attack", so immediately they grab you by the wrist, and begin to run away.

You're confused and try to get free and stop them because "what the hell are you doing?! You shouldn’t run!".

When the third movement comes it's stronger, one of them gets nauseous while the rest almost stumbled on their feet.

That's when you realize what's happening.

You shout out a firm "stop", they fix their gaze at you, horror invading their pretty eyes, and then you speak firmly but carefully.

"Sit down, cover your heads and calm down. We're safe."

It's a miracle but they manage to react from their panicked trance and obey you like the good soldiers they are.

All of you are sitting in a circle, shoulder to shoulder, away from windows and furniture, you try to soothe them explaining that it's just a mid-level earthquake, nothing dangerous, at most just 0.2 percent of the population will get some minor wounds.

Again, "we're safe".

Dogs are barking at the distance, everything around you move with some violence, the lights, furniture, you can even see through the trembling windows what’s happening outside, trees moving as if they were alive, cables too, and the damn ground seems like it could breathe.

After a whole minute everything returns to normal, they're still scared, a bit less, but fear hasn't abandoned their minds at all.

"Bloody hell, luv, how could you remain so calm?"

You explain to them how normal this in your natal home is, some places around the world are more seismic than others after all. It's just mother earth living.

Some 'funny' stories about your experiences and those of your relatives manage to calm down little by little.

It could sound incredible or even ‘stupid’ for some people to see a bunch of elite soldiers, huge and beefy as a truck so afraid of a mid-level earthquake, more so when they've seen the death itself right in its eyes.

But a natural disaster is so different from the damage that a human can cause. You can try to take control of the battlefield, can predict what could happen and plan every movement. It's an equal battle, man vs man.

Meanwhile, nature is not kind, it's strong, powerful, glorious. You can't control her, don't know how or when she'll decide to explode and sweep everything away at every step.

We are just humans, simple beings that have taken a place on earth to live because she wanted to. She allowed us to live in and thanks to her. And even when it could sound cruel, mother nature follows her own course independently of us.

You have faced her power more than once, all her glory. You know you’re just a simple human being, and you're okay with that, because you know that from earth we come and to her we'll return.

Not them though. That felt like facing death for the first time, like everything they've lived before were nothing compared to this. They saw mother earth right in her eyes, suddenly they felt raw, more alive than ever, and for the first time in years they're consciously grateful to be alive one more day.

[bestanimal]

Round 3 - Chondrichthyes - Rajiformes

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

The second order of batoids (rays) are the Rajiformes, commonly called “Skates.” They include the living families Anacanthobatidae (“smooth skates” or “leg skates”), Arhynchobatidae (“softnose skates”), Gurgesiellidae (“pygmy skates”), and Rajidae (“hardnose skates”).

Rajiforms are distinguished by the presence of greatly enlarged pectoral fins, which conjoin in front of the head and merge into a generally flattened, triangular body. There can be up to two small dorsal fins but no anal fin. The undulatory motion of their pectoral fins that they use for swimming is referred to as as rajiform locomotion. Some skates also have leg-like pelvic fins which they use to walk and climb across the seafloor, or to quickly propel themselves away from a threat. As rays, rajiform eyes and spiracles are on the dorsal side of their body while their gill slits, nostrils, and mouth are on the ventral side.

Unlike other rays, skates lay eggs in horny cases, commonly called “mermaid’s purses.” Egg cases typically contain one embryo, except for Big Skates (Beringraja binoculata) (image 2) and Mottled Skates (Beringraja pulchra), which lay egg cases that can contain up to 7 embryos each.

Rajiformes arose in the Early Jurassic, with modern forms appearing in the Late Cretaceous.

Propaganda under the cut:

While skates aren’t known to practice maternal care, other than attaching their egg cases to things, baby Pacific Starry Skates (Caliraja stellulata) tend to follow large objects, which could be their mother.

Big Skates (Beringraja binoculata) are one of the most commercially important skates and are often sold as food. Their pectoral fins are sold as "skate wings" and are eaten baked or fried, often being labeled as imitation scallops. They are one of the largest known species, with a record length of 2.4 m (7.9 ft), though they usually don’t exceed 1.8 m (5.9 ft).

The related Mottled Skate (Beringraja pulchra) is also a commercially important skate, however, their populations are severely declining. In South Korea they are known as hong-eo, and valued at $10–30/kg, popularly served at wedding feasts. In Japan, this species is less valued at around $5/kg. In China it is not specifically targeted, but is taken as bycatch. The species is endangered, but no conservation or management schemes are currently in order to protect it.

Deepsea Skates (Bathyraja abyssicola) and Pacific White Skates (Bathyraja spinosissima) are some of the deepest-living rays, living up to 2,906m deep. These skates sometimes lay their eggs on hydrothermal vents, utilizing the volcanic warmth for the incubation of their eggs.

In 2023, a team of scientists set off to analyze what they thought was an extinct, underwater volcano off the Pacific coast of Canada. The team discovered that the volcano was not only still active but was also teaming with life! The heat from the volcano made it an excellent nursery for Pacific White Skate eggs and their young, and the area was covered in thousands of giant egg cases, measuring around half a metre (1.5 feet) across! One female was even in the process of laying an egg as they observed. It can take up to four years for the young to develop, but the volcanic heat may speed up this process.

The critically endangered Blue Skate (Dipturus batis) was one of the most abundant skates in the northeast Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. In the 19th and 20th centuries, egg cases were found along the entire British coastline in high numbers, but now they are found only in a few areas. The species has both been targeted directly and caught accidentally as bycatch. Due to the profitability of trawl fishing, bycatch likely will remain a serious problem for the Blue Skate, as well as many other species , and it has a serious chance of becoming extinct in the near future unless more is done to control trawl fishing.

While similar in appearance to sawfish and sawsharks, the Cretaceous Onchopristis was actually a skate in the extinct Onchopristidae family. Specimens of Onchopristis and Spinosaurus are often associated with one another, with indications of the dinosaur having preyed on the giant skate.

The New Zealand Smooth Skate (Dipturus innominatus) is unique in they are both predators as well as scavengers, eating dead fish and scraps from larger predators. They are also one of the largest skates in the world, reaching lengths of up to 2.4 m (7.9 ft).

The largest skate in the world is the critically endangered Flapper Skate (Dipturus intermedius), maxing out at 2.85 meters (9.4 ft) and weighing 113 kg (249 lb). Their egg cases are between 10 and 14 cm (3.9 and 5.5 in) wide and 13 and 23 cm (5.1 and 9.1 in) long, not including the horns.

little leggies

[apas-95]

Idk how to feel about China opening diplomatic relations with the Taliban. Yes Afghanistan's assets should be unfrozen and the entire reason the Taliban runs Afghanistan now is the fault of the US, but they are still an extremely brutal reactionary theocracy enforcing the most extreme gender apartheid in the world. It's not China's (or anyone's) place to change that obviously, but I can't bring myself to celebrate China opening diplomacy with them as a win for the third world.

So, in a word: non-interference.

You're right that the Taliban are a reactionary organisation, and you're right that they're in power because of US interference and invasion. Furthermore, you correctly point out that China should not attempt to change the internal political structure of Afghanistan, but the reason for that is much more than an abstract notion of sovereignty or respect - it is moreso a matter of practicality.

The Taliban are in power because they are the Afghan-nationalist group most favourable to US interests. The US would prefer its puppet government be in power, but failing that, there are groups it very much does not want to take power, such as Afghan communist organisations. The US directs more resources to undernining those groups than it does the Taliban. In any case, the Taliban are still better for Afghanistan than the US-comprador government is, but they are still ultimately in power due to continued US intervention. The US refusal to recognise the Taliban is an element in a continuum of intervention, attempting to tip the scale towards US-favourable groups - it is, counter-intuitively, an element of the exact strategy that is keeping the Taliban in power.

China's non-interference policy not only does not influence the internal affairs of other countries - inherently, it actively *weakens* US influence in those countries. If the threat keeping US-favourable groups in power is sanctions, blockade, and international non-recognition, then the credible promise that China, an incredibly useful partner, will engage with *whichever* domestic group takes power, no matter their ideology, allows for organic Afghan interests to express themselves and bring about organic Afghan political goals. Similarly, the provisioning of no-strings-attached investment, infrastructure, etc, makes US support of preferred groups less effective, as Afghanistan is both less desperate for support, and also has less incentive to take aid packages that include 'restructuring' demands.

In essence: refusing relations with the Taliban, like the US is doing, is part of the exact gradient of political-economic pressures that keeps the Taliban (the group least threatening to US interests, other than an unsustainable puppet) in power. Opening non-judgemental relations to *whoever* achieves power weakens that gradient, and strengthens the ability for the genuine interests of the Afghan people to determine who achieves and retains power. China refusing to open relations with the Afghan government because they do not align ideologically would not change that gradient at all, and could only add yet another set of foreign interests overriding those of the people (interests which could not be more commanding than those of the US military empire, in any case). Free and non-judgemental relations with a reliable trading partner is precisely the environment that weakens the political base of reactionary organisations, and strengthens genuinely revolutionary ones.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

Three years ago, Andrea Vanek was studying to be an arts and crafts teacher when spells of dizziness and heart palpitations suddenly started to make it impossible for her to even take short walks.

After seeing a succession of doctors she was diagnosed with long COVID and even now spends most of her days in the small living room of her third-floor Vienna apartment, sitting on the windowsill to observe the world outside.

"I can't plan anything because I just don't know how long this illness will last," the 33-year-old Austrian told AFP.

The first cases of COVID-19 were detected in China in December 2019, sparking a global pandemic and more than seven million reported deaths to date, according to the World Health Organization.

But millions more have been affected by long COVID, in which some people struggle to recover from the acute phase of COVID-19, suffering symptoms including tiredness, brain fog and shortness of breath.

Vanek tries to be careful not to exert herself to avoid another "crash", which for her is marked by debilitating muscle weakness and can last for months, making it hard to even open a bottle of water.

"We know that long COVID is a big problem," said Anita Jain, from the WHO's Health Emergencies Programme.

About six percent of people infected by coronavirus develop long COVID, according to the global health body, which has recorded some 777 million Covid cases to date.

Whereas the rates of long Covid after an initial infection are declining, reinfection increases the risk, Jain added.

- 'Everything hurts' -

Chantal Britt, who lives in Bern, Switzerland, contracted Covid in March 2020. Long COVID, she said, has turned her "life upside down" and forced her to "reinvent" herself.

"I was really an early bird.... Now I take two hours to get up in the morning at least because everything hurts," the 56-year-old former marathon runner explained.

"I'm not even hoping anymore that I'm well in the morning but I'm still kind of surprised how old and how broken I feel."

About 15 percent of those who have long COVID have persistent symptoms for more than one year, according to the WHO, while women tend to have a higher risk than men of developing the condition.

Britt, who says she used to be a "workaholic", now works part-time as a university researcher on long COVID and other topics.

She lost her job in communications in 2022 after she asked to reduce her work hours.

She misses doing sports, which used to be like "therapy" for her, and now has to plan her daily activities more, such as thinking of places where she can sit down and rest when she goes shopping.

A lack of understanding by those around her also make it more difficult.

"It's an invisible disease.... which connects to all the stigma surrounding it," she said.

"Even the people who are really severely affected, who are at home, in a dark room, who can't be touched anymore, any noise will drive them into a crash, they don't look sick," she said.

- Fall 'through the cracks' -

The WHO's Jain said it can be difficult for healthcare providers to give a diagnosis and wider recognition of the condition is crucial.

More than 200 symptoms have been listed alongside common ones such as fatigue, shortness of breath and cognitive dysfunction.

"Now a lot of the focus is on helping patients, helping clinicians with the tools to accurately diagnose long COVID, detect it early," she said.

Patients like Vanek also struggle financially. She has filed two court cases to get more support but both are yet to be heard.

She said the less than 800 euros ($840) she gets in support cannot cover her expenses, which include high medical bills for the host of pills she needs to keep her symptoms in check.

"It's very difficult for students who get long COVID. We fall right through the cracks" of the social system, unable to start working, she said.

Britt also wants more targeted research into post-infectious conditions like long COVID.

"We have to understand them better because there will be another pandemic and we will be as clueless as ever," she said.

[doodlepede]

something i love about Dunmeshi is the principle that the only thing that really matters is whether you're getting enough nutrients. You need to eat enough, in terms of both quality and quantity.

An entire fit is made about Shuro not eating enough, and how it had dire consequences for his physical and mental health. When the party was briefly aghast that Izutsumi is a picky eater, I expected a lecture about how variety is the spice of life and that you have to just get over it to survive down here and yadda yadda fucking yadda but that isnt what happened.

Senshi was forced to cannibalize a member of his party (so he suspected) because it was that or starve to death. Is Izutsumi going to starve to death if she doesnt eat the mushrooms in her rice? no. Senshi lets it go. He's way more concerned with the way she holds her utensils improperly.

Marcille impresses upon Izutsumi that sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do in order to get where you need to go, and she remembers that Tade was willing to do things she didn't want to do because she wanted to prove her gratitude - it's lucky she's being fed at all. Maizuru directly tells her that she should practice gratitude.

A less complicated story would have Izutsumi concede, but she doesn't. The show doesn't call attention to it, but Senshi cares enough about ensuring a young'in eats properly that he actively tries to make things she will actually like, and he doesn't seem bothered by it. He's willing to go completely out of his way to make the leftover dumplings more appealing to her, using the changelings to make each one unique so there has to be at least a few she ends up liking.

Rather, Izutsumi learns to pick her battles. So far at least, she is unwilling to eat things she doesn't like, but she is willing to fight for her newfound party, since she gets something good out of it: She is being actively accommodated for. She is being allowed to be picky. That unconditional love and support from her, ahem, found family, is the good thing she gets out of fighting with them.

-

I found out a couple days ago that Ryoko Kui is a picky eater, saying so herself in response to an interview question asking if there were any foods from the manga she'd like to try. Knowing that, it only makes sense why she'd have a sympathetic attitude toward picky eaters. How many people grew up hearing that "there's starving kids in China or Africa" or other equivalent? How many kids were forced to sit at the table, awash with guilt and shame or anger and frustration, and above all else, boredome, trying to choke down some vomitous vegetable or other foodthing. How many people still face that pressure, from peers or internalized, to just get over it, as if being picky is the worst thing a person could be? Did Kui have to deal with that?

Considering that fun fact I learned recently about that link between pleasure and nutrient intake, that you literally get more nutrients out of food that you enjoy.....

I'm happy Izutsumi has people who won't treat her that way, y'know?

[tmblrplsdonutbanme]

Hey girlie! Just wanted to ask where you got the statistics for your latest post, more specifically the stuff about the job section? I just wanna make sure the information is accurate

Original Post

Here are the links for the male constitution stats

These links encompass everything i used OTHER than the FBI, DOJ and U.N. On my infographic post, those are what i used

Everything was calculated from the stats they provide. the FBI is a very good source, but it has a tendency to only provde stats about the first world, and cannot get accurate infomation for countries with huge populations like China and india, or countries with corrupt government, like africa, or countries where marital rape is legal and a woman can not prosecute a man for rape without a second opinion (legally because in the middle east and in the Quaran, a woman needs 2 sources since they "cannot be trusted" while a man needs one.) regardless i still filled it in with first world-stats

which is also unfortunate because less than 4% of rape cases make it to trial- DOJ

some more i had lying around. the main 3 are FBI U.N and DOJ, and the rest, other than the screenshot of my links for this, is a lot of overlapping information

although women make up 91% of total human trafficking- 99% of sex and labor trafficking - you're technically correct. where i forgot to add is specific countries imply a female only child militia due to religious beliefs. Ill add that later, Overall women make up for 40% of child soldiers, and are slightly more concentrated on the frontline than other jobs, but receive less than 7% of DDR (aid). also, according to NPR, some of these countries are only 35% female

Human Trafficking Data Collection Activities, 2024

https://worldpopulationreview.com/country-rankings/arranged-marriage-countries

its alot higher than 38%

https://www.gov.uk/government/statistics/forced-marriage-unit-statistics-2023/forced-marriage-unit-statistics-2023

https://worldpopulationreview.com/country-rankings/arranged-marriage-countries

https://www.gov.uk/government/statistics/forced-marriage-unit-statistics-2023/forced-marriage-unit-statistics-2023

women are 10x more likely to be raped among all races

bjs.ojp.gov/content/pub/pdf/FEMVIED.PDF?utm_source

post from @lez-exclude-men with sources here

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/30/health/men-rape-sexual-assault.html

https://www.unwomen.org/en/news/stories/2013/9/half-of-men-report-using-violence-and-a-quarter-perpetrate-rape-according-to-un-survey

https://www.semanticscholar.org/paper/The-Relationship-between-Men%E2%80%99s-Early-Maladaptive-of-Kang-Ndukwe/ff46947226b422fa064ac5b364248f1dc746fc99?p2df

https://www.ajol.info/index.php/sacq/article/view/101459

psychology today men get a dopamine release from treating women badly

99% of all men

97% of physicians that sexually abuse their patients are male (page 4)

95% of perpetrators of homicide are male

96% of child sexual abusers are male

women are 400,000,000 more likely to die from rape

women at home

wiki

1/12 femicides are caused by rape

8% of femicide is rape-related homicide, which means that out of the 66,000 female homicides, more than 5,280 were caused by rape

ALOT MORE SOURCES HERE

Study on empathy

How racism impacts women more

Some Fashion Industry Stats & Sources

Infographic

[arminreindl]

Benggwigwishingasuchus: The Fisher Crocodile

I once again come bearing news from the realm of Pseudosuchia. Yes, we got a new taxon. Benggwigwishingasuchus eremicarminis ("Fisherman Croc's desert song") is a new basal member of the poposauroidea, a clade you might have heard about before.

But first some more key notes. Benggwigwishingasuchus has been recovered from the Anisian Fossil Hill Member of the Favret Formation, located in the US State of Nevada. It is known from a decently complete skeleton that preserves much of the neck and torso, a decent chunk of the limbs but only small pieces of the skull.

Left: Press release artwork of Benggwigwishingasuchus looking across the Panthalassan Ocean (Jorge A. Gonzalez) Right: Fossil material

As said already, Benggwigwishingasuchus is considered a member of the poposauroidea, one of the most enigmatic groups of early pseudosuchians. The reason for that is that we primarily know them from their most derived members, the bipedal Poposaurus, the sail-backed ctenosauriscids, Lotosaurus, the ornithomimosaur-mimics of the Shuvosauridae and Qianosuchus. As you can see many appear kind of like proto-dinosaurs and most have lost their osteoderm armor, requiring a whole different skeletal structure to support their erect posture. But until recent years we knew little and less about where they came from. This is thankfully starting to change now, since we now not only have Benggwigwishingasuchus, but also Schultzsuchus (formerly "Prestosuchus" loricatus) described earlier this year, Mambawakale from two years ago and recently assigned to the group as well as Mandasuchus (similar to Mambawakale originally described as something else and recently considered as a basal poposauroid). Thanks to these we are slowly starting to see a transition. Schultzsuchus still has pretty standard armour for example, but Qianosuchus shows clear signs of reduction, with Benggwigwishingasuchus kinda falling into the middle between them.

Assorted Poposauroids: clockwise from top right: Poposaurus (Skye McDavid), Arizonasaurus (Gabriel Ugueto), Lotosaurus (Gabriel Ugueto), Shuvosaurus (Joschua Knüppe)

What's also interesting about Benggwigwishingasuchus is its ecology, or what little we can infer based on the circumstances of its preseration. You see, the Favret Formation preserves marine sediments and was previously best known for its ichthyosaurs (including the giant Cymbospondylus). So its kind of weird seeing a rather lanky pseudosuchian there. What's weirder still is the fact that the preservation seems to suggest that it wasn't swept out. No, its still reasonably complete, partially articulated and in the classic death pose with its back bent backwards, this thing was moved little before being burried. BUT. It wasn't marine. The skeleton fits of a terrestrial animal and both limb proportions and histology show no evidence of it being a swimmer or diver. Instead its hypothesized that it might have been an animal that inhabited the coast, possibly drawing sustenance from the sea but not actively adapted to forage in it. In this sense Benggwigwishingasuchus could parallel Ticinosuchus from Switzerland and Qianosuchus from China, both of which were coastal animals yet not explicitly aquatic (in the case of Qianosuchus it was originally proposed given its specialised tail, but recent work seems to suggest it was never very fast nor enduring).

Top image: Benggwigwishingasuchus standing on the skull of Cymbospondylus (Joschua Knüppe) Bottom left: Ticinosuchus among a group of Tanystropheus (Zach Robinson) Bottom right: Qianosuchus holding a fish (Gabriel Ugueto)

All in all, Benggwigwishingasuchus is an interesting animal that does fill in some gaps in the fossil record, both phylogentically and ecologically and though the description is sparce on actually describing the skeleton, here's hoping that more research will come out eventually. Hell, they dropped a histology on it like a day after it was named.

Wikipedia:

Benggwigwishingasuchus - Wikipedia Papers: A new pseudosuchian from the Favret Formation of Nevada reveals that archosauriforms occupied coastal regions globally during the Middle Triassic | Biology Letters (royalsocietypublishing.org)

Diverse growth rates in Triassic archosaurs—insights from a small terrestrial Middle Triassic pseudosuchian | The Science of Nature (springer.com)

[xclowniex]

Will you get red note?

No. Tik tok isn't banned in NZ so I don't really see a point. Like rednote has to follow ccp rules around what content is allowed and the guidelines just aren't something I personally could get behind so I don't want the app.

I will say that a lot of the discourse surronding tik tok being banned is just.... ignorant. Both in like what actual censorship is and the ccp laws surronding data collection. This post is long but it covers tik tok censorship, ccp laws surronding data collection and the sinophobia behind the US governments decision to ban tik tok.

Like I truly don't care what social media another person uses, but I do find it hilarious that the same people who complained about tik tok censorship, are now getting censored by the ccp. Like I've seen a few posts from people complaining they can't post lgbt content as it gets removed. And this is because the ccp is not pro lgbt and your content must adhere to ccp values when you post on rednote.

And I find it funny because tik tok censorship isn't really like that heavy? They don't allow discussions of violence and sex if it's not educational, and dont allow hate and that's about it. People often would complain about how "when I talk about x my videos get less views" yet I've seen plenty of other creators who post similar videos in x topic get the same amount of view. Like it's nor censorship, your current audience just doesn't like when you make x content.

And this is particularly also applicable to people saying tik tok censorship discussions of Palestine as they don't. It's beneficial for them to push that content as rage bait is a huge part of their algorithm. By giving you content which makes you angry or upset, you're more likely to comment which means you spend more time on the app and more of that same content gets pushed to you.

Also literally every instance of leftist antisemitism involving Palestine I've reported on tik tok has been found not to break guidelines.

And the ccp can get your data from tik tok. Whilst US data is stored in US data centres, because the parent company byte dance is a Chinese company, the ccp can request that data and get it. Like their request will not be denied.

I also see a lot of people being like "well what is the ccp going to do with my data" and they're not going to do much with just your data, but it's when they have data from large groups of people is where concern comes in.

In information security, it's not uncommon knowledge that the CCP wants to do propaganda through social media. If they have data from a lot of people, it's essentially as if they've surveyed enough people to get the general views of entire populations. That's the bit which is dangerous.

And the reason for the tik tok ban isn't because of pro Palestine activism. It's because of genuine data concerns but mainly sinophobia.

Like the fact that US social media companies also collect a shit tone of data about you (and also sell it) yet don't get banned but tik tok does, is sinophobia.

The concern from the US government isn't that the data is collected in the first place, it's that China is the ones collecting it.

Because if it was privacy concerns, privacy laws would be much more useful, and would also likely lead to tik tok still being banned because of ccp laws where China can access data collected by Chinese companies at any time.

And I do want to stress that this doesn't mean that tik tok is this evil company as it isn't. It's not their choice that the ccp has access to the data they collect. The ccp didn't create tik tok full stop but also certainly didn't create it to collect data. And I also want to stress that my criticisms lie with the ccp and not Chinese citizens or the Chinese diaspora.

And last thing on the topic I have to say, the ccp will get your data one way or another if they truly wanted it.

Like they don't need tik tok to get your data. Xi jingping isn't sitting there going "well fuck, my plans are all ruined because tik tok was banned". The ccp has hacked the NZ parliment multiple times over the years. Like I think tik tok collecting data is the least of our concerns about data being collected.

Especially since it's not just China wanting your data. The data of people in a country and outside of it is beneficial to any government as it does help them plan stuff both in terms of positive and negative things domestically and for defense and military purposes. Is it good for them to collect it? Fuck no. Should they? Also fuck no. And any country which really wants your data, will get it anyway with or without a social media app. Which is why I still choose to use tik tok.

The only way for you to have no foreign government collect data is if you're born in the middle of rural buttfuck nowhere, never get registered so the government doesn't know you exist and live completely off the grid.

Because of this, I do think we should be focusing on getting more privacy laws and also upping cyber security in every country. We need to invest far moeeninto cyber security

[ghoulsbian]

i kinda have this headcanon that tatara has a website out there somewhere, one that isn't easy to find, dedicated to the documentation of ghoul genealogy in china and hong kong. it's purposefully made uneasy to find so it doesn't fall right into the CCG's lap. i think that he gets his knowledge through finding communities of chinese ghouls on encrypted websites and talking with the people on there. he's messaged with hundreds of people over the internet in trying to find information about ghoul bloodlines in china.

it's also really important to him because it's one of the only places in his life he still gets to use his knowledge of mandarin anymore. everyone in these communities writes in mandarin at pretty much all times and it's really a breath of fresh air for him, because i remember there being some side thing in tokyo ghoul about how written japanese gives him a headache. he has a rather old and used laptop that he uses for all of this. he's very much a no nonsense, no frivolousness type of person, so he doesn't care much about keeping up with the latest technology. the used laptop gets the job done and that's all that really matters to him.

i think that either on this website, or on another website that the genealogy documentation website links to, he has some stuff online dedicated to preserving the history of the chi she lian as well. he's the last remaining person who was apart of it and he feels immense grief over the extinction of it. he wants its existence to be known of even after he passes, no matter how near or far in the future that may be. i think that no one he knows personally really knows of the existence of these websites, but not necessarily because he's hiding it from them (he is pretty much surrounded by only ghouls after all). it's more so the fact that he's not often asked about personal activities or inner workings. i think if anyone were to know, it would be eto, because she does inquire about these things more than say ayato or hinami would, even if she doesn't do it frequently.

as for another online activity, one that requires far less encryption, i think tatara plays Go online. he prefers to play it in person but this is another thing that can only be entertained by eto. they play together sometimes but not very often at all. i think he plays online as a way to relax when he gets a short bit of time away from aogiri duties.

idk i love thinking about him!!

[sadclowncentral]

do you think any of the ongoing troubles faced by the crew of the iss are going to have implications on international space law in the near-mid term?

what a great question! for those unaware, two astronauts are currently stranded on the ISS until at least early july due to technical failures in Boeing's return capsule.

while the astronauts are safe and sound and in no need of rescuing at the moment, the problem of astronauts in distress has actually been exhaustively been addressed by international space law and was even one of the first things lawmakers worried about. for example, the 1967 Outer Space Treaty (OST) states that:

States Parties to the Treaty shall regard astronauts as envoys of mankind in outer space and shall render to them all possible assistance in the event of accident, distress, or emergency landing on the territory of another State Party or on the high seas. [...] In carrying on activities in outer space and on celestial bodies, the astronauts of one State Party shall render all possible assistance to the astronauts of other States Parties. [...] (Article V OST)

keep in mind, this law was written in the sixties. the drafting of this provision was less about getting stuck on space stations and much more about the fear was much more that us or ussr astronauts would accidentally land on the wrong side of the iron curtain and be detained. but still the issue of astronauts in distress was taken incredibly seriously - so much so that the second space treaty, the aptly named 1969 Astronaut Rescue and Return Agreement (ARRA), focuses entirely on the issue, reiterating that:

If information is recieved or it is discovered that the personnel of a spacecraft have alighted* on the high seas or in my other place not under the jurisdiction of any State [i.e. outer space], those Contracting Parties which are in a position to do so shall, if necessary, extend assistance in search and rescue operations for such personnel to assure their speedy rescue. [...] (Art 3 ARRA)

what does that mean in practice? not much right now, as the astronauts are not in distress, they are simply delayed. you wouldn't call search and rescue on yourself when the train has a malfunction that makes it late either. but should a case of distress occur, and it is impossible to intervene on a national level by sending a falcon rocket up, it could be argued that the only other nation that has ratified the treaties and can currently easily and regularly access the international space station** - russia - could be obligated to provide assistance for their rescue. even though, while legally sound, i wouldn't want to touch that diplomatic baseball bat to a bee's nest if you held a gun to my head.

tldr; there are no implications for international space law as of yet*** as the situation is not severe, and if it became so, our beloved envoys of mankind would not be on their own. hopefully.

* we can fight about the word alighted an it's implications in this scenario but I don't have my cologne commentary on hand and I don't go into battle unarmed.

** China also has independent access to outer space and its own space station so it could in theory provide assistance but i have no idea if they can dock with the ISS or not.

*** the question if Boeing has to compensate for the damage incurred from the delay is also unanswered but as these are American astronauts and an Americans company that is national space law and therefore not my problem. #internationallawforever

[mask131]

Some times ago, I posted about the vandalizing of the Wall of the Justs at the Parisian Shoah memorial. The post is here if you are interested, and it got many, many notes, so I thank you very much!

But I hope this post will also get as many notes - because we found the guilty party. We know who did it and... gosh, it sounds like a fucking joke but it is not, and it just proves how complex the situation is, and how dangerous the times we are living are.

If you recalled the obvious guilty party, the first suspects, the ones that seemed to have done that were the so-called "pro-Palestinian" activists that in fact are just antisemitic people disguising their hatred under the pretense of "fighting for Palestine". It is well-known that the pro-Palestinan manifestations, events and representatives in France have all versed at one point or another into very antisemitic comments or actions, and the movement is currently being parasited by antisemitism - ranging from actual antisemites who use "Zionist" as a way to designate all Jews, including French-Jews who never saw Israel in their life ; to people who are taking back antisemitic slogans without knowing they are antisemitic in the first place.

The reason the investigation directly was aimed at them was very simple: the red hands, or red handprints, is a symbol that many pro-Palestine manifestants have been using recently. Which, in itself, sparked a whole new debate - about whether it is an antisemitic symbol or not. Because while for some it is the universal "You have blood on your hands" symbol, for others it refers to the blood of a soldier of Israel on the hands of his murderer, during the second Infifada... And while attacking the Wall of the Justs would have been a new low and a new step for these left-leaning antisemites (because so far they only attacked Jews, now they would attack those that saved Jews and assorted Nazi victims during World War II), it was in line with a new form of radicalization of the movement - see the "Block Out" phenomenon on Internet, a cancel culture aimed at those that did not support enough Palestine... As a personal note I will say: where was all this energy and effort when the it was time to defend the Uyghurs against their wiping out by the Chinese regime? It is still time today, their suffering is still going on... But as a prominent Uyghur activist said (I think it was Rebiya Kadeer, but I do not have my notes with me so I might be mistaken) - people care less about the Uyghurs than Palestinians for one simple reason "Because it isn't Israel that is killing us..." It is China, and as a result nobody really cares...

Anyway, I digress... So while it is known, confirmed and recorded that the so-called "pro-Palestine" activists in France are slowly oscillating and sinking into antisemitism, it isn't actually them who did these red handprints. No, they're not guilty this time.

In fact it is something I talked about when I made my original post: there was another very likely suspect which would have surprised nobody. Neo-Nazis. Because while the pro-Palestinian movement is currently crystallizing in France the entire antisemitism wave that has been on the rise for a decade now among the extreme-left, the extreme-right political groups have also been gaining terran and strength for quite a long time, and now, we have actual neo-Nazi parties very vocal and active today... Due to the ungodly amount of terrorist attacks France had to face, due to the frightening strenghtening of radical and extreme Islam in France, due to the whole endless debates about immigration in France, and due to the hyper-violent civil unrests that are clearly just to cause chaos and nothing else (like the riots following the death of Nahel Merzouk, which clearly were not about the Nahel case and just to cause as much destruction and steal as much things as possible)... Well of course, when these types of problem arise, who gains the upper-hand? The extreme-right.

And so now we have far-right candidates so popular they have a good chance of being elected as the representatives of France, and we have many groups of antisemitic Christian fanatics popping up everywhere, and we have neo-Nazi movements literaly returning like some perverted phoenix from their ashes... As such, it was thought that maybe these red handprints could have been the work of a neo-Nazi movement, who would use the current situation to perform their antisemitic deeds while blaming the extreme-left for it... After all, the two movements have been currently doing the exact same thing. Before the Hamas attack, far-right groups were defacing Jewish cemeteries and soiling Simone Veil's grave with Nazi swastika ; and today far-left activists are "denouncing" Israel by... tagging on Jewish temples drawings mixing the six-point stars with a swastika...

So, you know, the typical horseshoe effect. The two extremes are literaly doing the same things, and as such we have a hard time differentiatng one from another.

But no... Turns out it isn't them either! Turns out... it isn't even French people who did this.

And here's where the dark joke comes... You know who did it? FUCKING RUSSIA OF COURSE!

We forget to so easily that Putin is literaly sending his agents in every friggin' political or social event that goes on in the world right now... And in fact that's the whole point: Putin wants us to be so obsessed with the Israel-Hamas conflict and how Gaza is trapped in it all, so that we forget about how Russia is currently destroying Ukraine.

The investigation found out that the people who painted these red hands were three men that had recently arrived in Paris from Bulgaria... They were staying at an hotel and the very day following their crime, they left France for Belgium (Bruxelles to be precise). Now... You're going to say "So they're just Bulgarians? They're not Russians, nothing proves its Russia". Except for one thing... While yes the involvment of Russia has not been "confirmed", Putin's Russia is not known for its vivid imagination... And they have literaly done the same thing some times ago.

If you recall, I posted about it before... It happened last october. Right after the Hamas attacked the music festival, causing the whole madness we are into today, blue David stars were painted on buildings where Jewish people lived, echoing the dark times of the Nazi Occupation in France... Here is the post I made back in February, and I couldn't guess how far things would go back then... While everybody was getting scared about the return of French antisemitism turned out... It was a group of people from Moldavia that was paid to paint those stars everywhere. Paid by... a pro-Russian, pro-Putin Moldavian businessman, Anatoli Prizenko.

You can read more about this on my old post, but investigation concluded it was indeed an operation where Russian forces used the Moldavians as puppets. All to cause fright and chaos in France. When you consider that Bulgaria, like Moldavia, is unfortunately today one of the "screen-countries" Russia likes to use to shield themselves when doing their dirty chores... Blue stars, red handprints... This is clearly the same thing, done all over again.

And where the "joke" part comes out even more - in the sense of a perverse, venomous, fetid joke part of some putrid dark comedy... Russia has currently been truly harassing France through all sorts of operations, each more outlandish than the next, and yet all working in their own way to cause fear and chaos... More specifically two cases are regularly being brought up.

Case 1: The Doppelgänger operation

In June of 2023, the French authorities warned about what was called the "Doppelgänger operation". A massive campaign of Internet misinformation created by Russia. The purpose was simple: create mirror-websites to the official websites of French information networks, newspapers and TV channels. They were almost identical to the official news outlet of France, to the point many mistook them for the real thing - sometimes the only difference you could spot was in the URL. ".fr" became ".ltd", and ".com" became ".cam".

And all those fake websites shared articles about the Ukrainian-Russian war, articles written purposefully to spread misinformation about Russia. Some claimed that the Ukrainian population were in full distrust of their government and wanted to see it brought down... Others wrote that all the Ukrainian operations were disasters and failures. Some invented fake tragedies and disasters in Russia to try to paint Ukrainians as the villains. And others yet wrote about how the donations of Europe to Ukraine were either wasted by the Ukrainians, or would cause economic crisis in European countries...

Case 2: The bed bugs hysteria

In september of 2023, the discovery of bed bugs on several public places in Paris was shared on social media. Some were discovered in a movie theater, the presence of others was attested in some subway lines... The social media being what they are, it became a hot topic talked about by everybody, shared by everyone - and the facts were exaggerated, and rumors started spreading, and soon an entire mass hysteria started overtaking France. It wasn't just Paris anymore, but all the big cities that were supposedly infested by "bed bugs". People claimed to find them in every public places - every theater, every subway line, every hotel, even in hospitals...

Turns out, there wasn't as much bed bugs as the social media wanted us to believe. It was mostly a sanitary mass panic, echoing the fear caused by the Covid epidemic and fed by the worries about the upcoming Olympic games. And... and also fed by Russia. Investigations revealed that there was a lot of fake accounts, troll accounts and bots created by Russian servers and Russian URLs, and who spent their entire time spreading and sharing bed-bugs articles, writing fake articles twisting the facts, and spamming everybody with news of this mass hysteria..

This is the sore and infuriating conclusion. Remember, everyone, that this isn't just about Israel and Palestine... It isn't just about the Hamas or Netanyahu... And we already knew that, because already in Europe it was clear this wasn't truly about what happened in the Middle-East - it was also about the shadows of antisemitism and the wraith of the Nazi presence, it was about the extreme-left movement spreading from the USA university down to European ones, it became a fight about the Jewish and Muslim populations in Europe rather than in Palestine and Israel - and even more, a political fight between the far-right and the far-left across the continent... But it isn't just about that anymore, because now Putin is in the dance and Russia is gleefully putting oil on the fire in hope it will burn everything... This is a fucked-up chess game with many, many players... That all look the same in the end, somehow, so it becomes hard to identify which one does which move.

But at least we know who painted the blue stars, and who painted the red hands, and who pits the extreme-left against the extreme-right, and is trying to make sure the Jewish people of France are feeling scared in their own country. Putin and what he turned Russia into.

[sgiandubh]

When you do not know a thing about the issue at stake...

...perhaps it's better to remain silent.

Some of you know, others don't - and that's fine - but my main field of expertise is labor law.

I just read this in anger and disbelief:

Look, lady. I don't care who the hell you are, what you do for a living or why you felt entitled to answer those insistent questions on your side of the fandom. I suppose you are North American and have no idea of how things work on this side of the pond. It is fine: I might know what a Congress filibuster is, for example, but I'd be severely unable to judge the finer points of competence sharing between Fed and state level.

The difference between you and me?

I keep my mouth shut and/or do my own research before opening it in public.

Have you no shame to write things like: 'It was discovered clothing factories in Bulgaria and Portugal made it and how workers were exploited, mostly women, because these factories were in special economic zones in these countries exempt from EU employee rights and regulations.'

HOW DARE YOU? What strange form of illiterate entitlement possessed you to utter such things with confidence, comfortably hidden behind a passive voice ('it was discovered')?

Portugal joined the EU in 1986. Bulgaria (and my country) joined the EU in 2007. I have given 5 relentless years of my life to make this collective political project a reality, along with hundreds of other people my age who chose to come back home from the West and put their skills to good use for their country. In doing so, I rejected more than 10 excellent corporate job offers in France and China. To see you come along and write such enormities is like having you spit in my face.

Article 4 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union (aka The Treaty of Rome) is formal and clear, as far as competence sharing between the EU and its Member States goes (the UK was still, back then, a full member of the EU - it quit on February 1st 2020):

That means that ALL the EU regulations are being integrated into the national legislation of the Member States. This is not a copy/paste process, however. And because it is a shared competence area, the Member States have a larger margin of appreciation into making the EU rules a part of their own. While exceptions or delays in this process can be and are negotiated, the core principles are NEVER touched.

Read it one hundred times, madam, maybe you'll learn something today:

THERE ARE NO SPECIAL ECONOMIC ZONES IN THE EUROPEAN UNION. THE WHOLE FUCKING EUROPEAN UNION IS A SPECIAL ECONOMIC ZONE, THIS IS WHY IT IS CALLED THE SINGLE MARKET.

What the fuck do you think we are, Guangzhou? We'd wish, seeing the growth statistics!

Now, for the textile industry sector and particularly with regard to the Bulgarian market, a case very similar to my own country. Starting around 1965, many big European textile players realized the competitive advantage of using the lower paid, readily available Eastern European workforce. In order to be able to do business with all those dour Communist regimes, the solution was simple and easy to find: toll manufacturing.

It worked (and still does!) like this:

The foreign partner brings its own designs, textiles and know-how into the mix - or more simply put, it outsources all these activities. The locals transform it into the finished product, using their own workforce. The result is then re-exported to the foreign partner, who labels it and sells it. In doing so, he has the legal obligation to include provenance on the label ('made in Romania', 'made in Indonesia', 'made in Bulgaria' - you name it).

The reason you might find less and less of those 'made in ' labels nowadays at Primark and more and more at Barbour, Moncler and the such is the constant raise of the workers' wages in Eastern Europe since 1990 (things happened there, in 1989, maybe you remember?). We are not competitive anymore for midrange prêt-à-porter - China (Shein, anyone?), Cambodia and Mexico do come to mind as better suppliers. To speak about 'exploited female labourers in rickety old factories' is an insult and a lie. They weren't exploited back in the Eighties, as they are not now (workers in those factories were and still are easily paid about 50% more than all the rest) and the factories being modernized and constantly updated was always a mandatory clause in any contract of the sort. Normal people in our countries rarely or ever saw those clothes. You had to either be lucky enough for a semi-confidential store release or bribe someone working there and willing to take the risk, in order to be able to buy the rejected models on the local market.

If I understood correctly, you place this critical episode at the launch of the limited SRH & Barbour collection, for the fall of 2018. How convenient for you, who (I am told by trusted people) were one of the most vocal critics of S during Hawaii 2.0!

And as far as Barbour goes, it never pretended to manufacture everything in the UK only:

This information is absolutely true. You can read the whole statement, signed in October 2017 by one of their Directors, Ian Sime, here: https://www.barbour.com/us/media/wysiwyg/PDF/Ethical_Statement_October_2017.pdf

And a snapshot for you:

Oh, and: SEDEX is a behemoth in its world, with more than 75.000 companies joining as a member (https://www.sedex.com/become-a-member/meet-our-customers/). Big corporations like TESCO, Dupont, Nestle, Sainsbury's or Unilever included.

I am not Bulgarian, but I know all of this way better than you'll probably ever do. The same type of contracts were common all over Eastern Europe: Romania, Poland, the GDR (that's East Berlin and co, for you) and even the Soviet Union. I am also sure your Portuguese readers will be thrilled to see themselves qualified by a patronizing North American as labor exploiters living in a third-world country with rickety factories.

You people have no shame and never did. But you just proved with trooping colors you also have no culture and no integrity. More reasons to not regret my unapologetic fandom choice.

I expect an angry and very, very vulgar answer to this, even if I chose to not include your name/handle. The stench of your irrelevance crossed an ocean.

[accio-victuuri]

xiao zhan’s mfw interview clues, talismans and matching ads. 🎤

based from the ones released today: v magazine, tencent fashion, tod’s and mr. bags. nothing too big, just some connection/s to already established cpns. feel free to appreciate and enjoy the interviews for what they are even without clowning. 🫶🏼

* V Magazine China

when he talked about superpowers, he has changed his answer from being invisible, he just wishes that there will be no disputes in the world. tho the topic is really about what he wants a parallel world to be like. interesting answer. i’m gonna wait for wyb to have an interview with a similar question and see if they will match 😂😂😂

he also answered that his style is more casual and comfortable which is exactly the same as wyb answered a similar question. not that we ever doubted how similar their personal style is. they may choose or prefer different pieces, but it has the same feel. this is who they steal each other clothes and blend in when they want to.

how he answered the question what he learned about style is to subtract. which may mean less is more or something like that. it matches what wyb said he learned about a different thing — acting. so i see this as a similarity between them, they don’t do overdo things.

🎤: If you had two hours of free time, where would you like to spend it?

🐰: Just strolling around. A city-walk.

I hope he does this with WYB! We was this happen in a lot of ZZ’s vlogs.

🎤: What is the most surprising thing from Gucci 2024 Autumn/Winter Women’s Wear show?

🐰: I think the biggest surprise is the bag. I like it very much, the shape of the bag is very avant-grade and bold.

His interest in bags is here again 👀 In his 2019 interview for MFW, he was asked about what his favorite accessory and he answered bag. The CPN happened because WYB was asked in an interview of his promotion of a jewelry brand (Emphasis ) about what jewelry he will give to his loved one. he answered a bag. lol. the question is about a jewelry but he still answered something different. who is he thinking about? a certain someone who loves bags?

🎤: Do you have any unforgettable anecdotes during the Chinese New Year that you can share with everyone?

🐰: There seems to be no Chinese New Year because I spent the Chinese New Year with the crew.

A confirmation what we already know, that he spent CNY in HD. the thing we won’t ever know tho is if WYB was there. Tho some clues point to the answer being yes.

* Tencent Fashion interview

Not much here but he just repeated how he loves bags. Lol. && how his priority is to film. I imagine the same is true for WYB.

* Tod’s interview

I didn’t share the translation for that. sorry! here it is in all it’s glory. not much cpn tho because the questions are centered on his clothes and the show.

🎤: After watching the first show of Tod's new creative director Matteo, can you share with us your first impressions?

🐰: Excited! and then when I was watching the show, I have been taking pictures all the time. Because there are many coats which I like it very much, including the bags, and I think it’s a brand-new attempt. You can see the second show, which is very unique especially it is placed at the tram stop in Milan — I heard that this tram stop is still in active service, can still be used.

🎤: What are the highlights of today’s outfit? Can you introduce it to us?

🐰: Today’s outfit is a more elegant and low-key style. It is a design of the collar on this coat, in fact you can see that it is actually a leather material, this collar can stand up, then you can put it on here and put it on in another way. Then, include this pair of shoe which is also my favorite loafer and this belt, it is also has a very unique design, it has a hemp material and then combine it with leather.

🎤: If you were asked to recommend one of the most “Italian” items you saw on the show today, which one would you recommend?

🐰: Ah~ it’s so difficult! I think there is a lot of it — I think it’s leather, I think everything about leather, the coat including leather on it’s shoes and trousers.

🎤: What are the three must- have travel stuffs during fashion week?

🐰: phone, passport, also…also the (important) card.

🎤: In a series of film and television works, how do you think different costumes help shape the character’s image?

🐰: It does help yourself to get into the role better.

🎤: You have been to Milan Fashion Week many times. Compared with the first time, what changes do you feel this time?

🐰: This time I felt more relaxed and also more cordial. There is a feeling of going home, especially there is DDV Yeye ( Tod’s CEO ) just now, he always tell me how he always welcomed me back says “Welcome back!” I felt woah! that moment was very warm. Then, of course there is conscious lifestyles of Tods that can’t live without.

🎤: Not long ago, you sang “As You Wish” at the Beijing TV Spring Festival Gala. What kind of New Year wishes do you have for everyone?

🐰: (smooth and healthy) for everyone

* Interview with Mr. Bags

this is year 3 of his interview with him! it’s one i’m waiting for cause xz is comfortable with & i feel like he can get away with asking more personal questions.

🎤: Yes, then I saw your personal clothes later I did serious study and research of it on internet. I think our Xiao laoshi really have a personal style, is very good at dressing and I just found out that — for example you will wear some hats, then the scarf and then you will also wear some of these big coats?

XZ: That’s right.

🎤: It looks warm, it has a sense of youth.

XZ: In fact, I felt it safer and then it’s more comfortable because I’m actually myself, in terms of personal clothing I prefer not too many colors, It is mainly; gray, black series and white colors. Those that are comfortable to wear and can’t go wrong and also most effective.

same thing about his personal style and what colors he chooses which is very close to wyb’s.

🎤: I also heard that Xiao Zhan is actually a very homely person. If it weren’t for work then you would just stay at home so I wonder what you usually do when you are at home?

XZ: Actually, I can also play games, sometimes I will have fun, but for most of time I spend my time working out.

this matches some recent fake rumors. 😭😭😭 especially with the part about how xz prefers to stay-in. and then how he likes to play games! who does he play games with??? WYB. there are already a couple of fake rumors and interviews of them talking about the two playing! it’s so nice to hear it from xz.

THE ALLEGED TALISMAN. 💛

p1 is GG recently, from his flight back home and p2 is a not so clear photo of WYB’s phone during HB screening where you can see what looks like a yellow paper. I have no question that GG does this, we have seen it before. but i like the idea of WYB doing something similar, maybe GG even drawing one for him. and this may be the reason why they chose this type of card case.

Finally, the matching ads by Shu Uemura and Loreal. Two different brands and products but I can’t help but see the similarity with the ads 🥹🥹🥹

-END.