#i would ultimately be responsible for them

[txttletale]

"you, specifically, are a bad and evil person that all my posts are written to condemn" this is not what i said. i'm sorry for not being clearer. i just feel like everyone in this space, not just you, look down on people who live in the first world as people who willingly don't change anything about how the world works when it's just not that simple. i know you all love to combat this and say otherwise but it will never change the simple reality that for some people it really is very hard, if not impossible, to do anything politically, for a variety of reasons. i'm disabled, i live in a remote part of the country, and i'm bad at talking to people. i don't have the money to just move to a population center or get lessons on how to speak to people. i can't do anything and i feel like every time you or one of the other communists on tumblr talks about the imperial core, i feel like i, personally, am being held to an unreasonable standard that i would not hold anyone else to, if i were in one of your situations. obviously i want things to change. i don't want genocide to be a thing that's constantly happening, i don't want my country to have its tendrils dug into every other country, i want socialism and eventually global communism, and if i could do anything meaningful-- anything at all-- to achieve those goals i would be working on that. but right now that just is not the case for me, and i feel like i'm not alone in that either. i just wish you had like a smidgen of empathy for some of the people living here who don't fit into your stereotype of what a member of the imperial core looks like-- i'm not even trying to say that sarcastically, it genuinely feels like you all don't see us as human. like nyanguard especially seems to think of us as incapable of saving ourselves, and one of the reblogs to my first ask just said they "like to imagine that (i'm) crying as i type this". how am i supposed to react to that? is this how all of you feel about people like me? would your feelings about me change if i lived in another country, or would you find some other excuse to talk down to me? is it really just the country i live in that's the problem, here? i'm not trying to accuse you, i'm asking this question genuinely.

i know it's tempting to respond to this with a snarky comment but please just try to understand where i am coming from. i really am willing to help if i can.

i don't think any marxist seriously has a political theory of imperialism that amounts to "citizens of the imperial core simply choose not to do anything because they are all individually bad people". i mean the whole point of marxism is that economic relations are the ultimate drivers of historical change, not abstract psychological or moral qualities of people.

i'm sympathetic to your situation! the imperial core is a very atomizing place to live, and there are places and situations where there's just no practical path to getting organized and taking meaningful political action in the near future. however, your problem here is:

i feel like i, personally, am being held to an unreasonable standard that i would not hold anyone else to

nobody is posting about you, personally. like at the end of the day you have to learn to either not take posts like that personally or just block everyone who makes them to manage your own time on the computer vis a vis niceness--i don't think it's the responsibility of me or any other communist to constantly provide asterisks and carveouts that we're not talking about the Good Ones Who Have Extenuating Circumstances when we talk about the usa and its material political base.

& in the same way that you ask for empathy for your situation i would ask you to extend a level of understanding to people whose homelands and countrymen and communities have been devastated by US coups and sanctions and invasions, that they have as much a right to express the rage and fury and hurt of that cultural legacy as you do to express your own sadness about your own situation. imagine, for example, how you would feel if your grandparents could not reliably get medicine because of us sanctions. & of course the correct target for these feelings are not random usamericans--but these posts are also not serious politcal platforms, they are venting from people who live their lives under the weight of empire.

if you think what they're saying is unfair to you, then you need to develop the ability to say 'well, i understand why they would feel that way' and move on. like i understand why you are upset, and i don't say this to be dismissive, but as real advice: it is not fair (especially to bloggers from the global south) to essentially rest your happiness and self-worth at their feet and demand that they validate you.

genuinely, i hope this helps. it's all i really have to say on the matter.

[unnounblr]

I respect this analysis, because there's actually data to back it up.

Individual voters are responsible for their choosing not to turn up, not understanding what could and would happen if they didn't, but. When the number of voters who didn't vote is in the range of 14 million, at some point, some of the responsibility is, ultimately, on the campaign that didn't reach those 14 million, and didn't send a message that drew them in.

I think it's also the responsibility of people online with followers who openly told people not to vote, but. I mean, I sorta doubt anyone on tumblr has an audience of 14 million. And the Harris campaign had almost a billion dollars, meaning they had plenty of resources at their disposal to try to get their message out.

I think individual voters who abstained can be blamed, a very small degree, and I'm definitely a bit mad at some people on tumblr and YouTube and TikTok and wherever else who did have larger bases of followers and told people not to show up, but ultimately, systemic problems always require systemic, collective solutions. And I think the blame for the loss of this large, 14 million person voting block. Is ultimately, if not even in the majority than in the plurality, the largest single cause. The Harris campaign itself.

Is she genuinely losing?! How are the democrats so good at losing

[seredelgi]

Do they get jealous?/ JJK x fem!reader

Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Yuuji Itadori, Kento Nanami, Ryoumen Sukuna

tw: kissing, making out, jealousy, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, implied/referenced sex, raw sex, groping I guess

Disclaimer: all featured characters are depicted as adults

Gojo would never admit it. He loves to think of himself as the carefree type, one confident enough not to fear other men stealing you away from him. However, he is also very much aware of how hot you are, and he can’t help but count heads turning when you stroll down the street, your arm securely hooked around his. You pretend not to hear his teeth gritting and not to notice the way he possessively circles an arm around your waist to keep you closer to him. He’s not jealous, they’re just too damn greedy.

Geto’s eyes immediately darken as soon as he catches sight of another man looming over you at the club. They’re awfully bold, honestly, considering you’re usually already grinding against him as they confidently approach the scene. As soon as the poor things meet his gaze from over your shoulder they’re able to catch a glimpse of the silent threat hidden within them. But he’s not satisfied with just that. No, he carefully snakes an arm around your waist, his palm shamelessly spreading across your belly to make them unequivocally aware of who you belong to. And if they still dare touch you, then they deserve what’s coming to them.

Toji acts cold. He freezes you out until he can have you as he properly wants. Whatever he’s had to endure while out with you, whether it be yearning looks from other men eating you up with their eyes or you exchanging words with way too lustful strangers in lousy bars, he patiently waits for you two to be alone to vent it out. As soon as you’re past the threshold of your apartment he slams you against the wall and claims your lips in a heated kiss. He takes you raw that night because he can, making you moan his name so loud that you’re sure the whole building can hear. That’s what you get, after all, for putting him in such misery all night.

Megumi’s not the type to get jealous. He knows how beautiful you are, and he loves the way boys look at you whenever they notice, too. He’s not scared of such attention, as long as you’re not bothered by it. His only response to the occurrence is to provide the comfort of his presence whenever it makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable. It always does the trick to pull you flush against his chest and start peppering sweet, passionate kisses down your neck, driving looks away and shifting your attention back to where it ultimately belongs: to him.

Yuuji’s not possessive in the slightest. He knows that you easily draw the attention of other men, and he’s okay with it. However, from time to time he does get a bit insecure about it. He wonders if you could find someone to satisfy you better than he can, if you would leave him were that to ever happen. That’s when he comes looking for cuddles and pitifully pouts at you as he asks “ You love me, right?”. You can’t help but chuckle at the display, affectionately bumping your nose on his before answering him “ Only you, always”. It’s enough to dissipate any lingering doubt, enough to make him playfully nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck and inhale in your scent.

Nanami’s fully confident in your loyalty, that’s never been a matter of concern to him. However, as soon as anyone tries to do anything even remotely disrespectful in your regards he feels compelled to step in, first and foremost politely asking them to back off. Unfortunately, sometimes that doesn’t work, and considering the size of the man, you’re dumbfounded by how often he’s got to resort to the second option. Let’s just say none of the boys that have made him go with it have left his sight unscathed.

Sukuna’s not so much jealous as he is proud to showcase you around. You're always the prettiest girl at any part he takes you to, and it shows in the way jaws immediately drop to the floor as soon as you walk by. He’s happy to circle his arm around your shoulder and dive into deep make-out sessions in front of anyone who dares look at you as if you were up for the taking. You’re his alone, and if the hickies covering your neck are not enough to make them stay away, then he’ll make sure to give them a little show by shoving his tongue in your mouth instead.

So what about the way they kiss you?

What about AOT men?

[earthchica]

Funny How Time Flies

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you are a shy, introverted person who wants to break out of your shell and experience fun at least once in your life. During a mutual friend's group trip, you meet Terry and have the best sex with him. Once the fun is over, will you and Terry stay in touch?

warnings: explicit smut (18+), light use of daddy, foul language, dirty talking, dom/sub, oral (f), pussy slaps, fingering, unprotected sex, nicknames (beautiful, baby, baby girl), words: (3k)

note: hey, I'm working on another mini-series, but this one is sweet, wholesome, and freaky! let me know your thoughts and if you want to be tagged in future parts. please enjoy!

-

You’ve been shy and introverted your entire life, often feeling tired of this loneliness. Your daily routine typically consists of working, exercising, and returning home, which leaves little opportunity for social interaction or adventure.

While you go out when you want to, most of your time is spent at home with your loving dog. Despite that, you know something is missing—particularly, a boyfriend and a more vibrant social life.

The anxiety stemming from your shyness made it difficult for you to step outside your comfort zone. You want to seek more experiences beyond the walls of your home and be more outgoing.

When your friends Sasha and Maya invited you on a group trip, you accepted. They were surprised but happy and reassured you that you wouldn’t feel left out or awkward during the trip.

Sasha, in particular, couldn’t contain her excitement, as explained by her boyfriend, Bryce. He was bringing his old marine friend, Terry Richmond.

You met the girls at the airport and greeted them with hugs. Sasha explained that Bryce and Cameron needed to find Terry, which made you feel nervous. She told you a little about him, but ultimately, you would have to form your own opinion about him.

"Oh, here they come! Finally,” Sasha replied, gesturing towards three tall, fit men in the distance.

Bryce was a tall, dark-skinned man, while Cam was kind of brown-skinned since he was lighter than Bryce. Then your eyes led to him. Who must be Terry?

At that moment, you felt an undeniable spark of love at first sight. Terry was slightly taller than Bryce and Cam and had a lighter skin tone.

He was so handsome, with good hands, good lips, and, good god, a nice body!!! He was fine, and you wanna intertwine him.

"Good, made it back on time and found big dawg," Bryce nudged Terry on the arm, laughed, and then moved over to Sasha.

"Yeah, bro was at the wrong damn gate/terminal," Cam said, walking over to Maya and greeted her with a kiss on the forehead.

"My fault; it's been a minute since I've been at the damn airport; y'all know I don't travel a lot," Terry chuckled lightly as he caught you staring, prompting you to look away.

"Well, we're glad you found him. Now...um, Terry, I want you to meet someone," Maya said with a smile.

He raised his eyebrows curiously and she motioned towards you and introduced you to Terry by using your name.

“Hey, there!” He said, giving a polite wave, and you just stared at him. Everyone looked at you, awaiting your response, but nothing came out until Sasha nudged you.

“Hi,” you said, waving back with a small mile. You held his gaze for a moment, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach, before shyly turning your eyes away.

The flight to Cancun, Mexico, is currently boarding for its scheduled departure at 1 PM. Passengers are advised to have their boarding passes and identification ready and to proceed to the gate promptly.

"Okay, that's us. Who's ready to get Lit?" Maya clapped her hands, easing the awkwardness and creating a more hype vibe.

Sasha wrapped her arm around your shoulders playfully, giving you a knowing look through her sunglasses.

"Look at you, drooling all over Terry already; I told you he would be your type," She teased, and you playfully hit her arm.

Soon enough, you were all on the plane, and of course, you were sitting next to Terry. He was talking to you, but you felt so nervous that your responses were short.

You both had a lot in common: you were single, didn’t get out much, and were on this trip to have fun. You couldn’t believe that a handsome man like Terry wanted to talk to you despite your shyness.

Terry was eager to talk to you from the moment he first saw you. He felt a strong connection and wanted to get to know you better. He was really glad he decided to go on this trip because your sweet and shy nature made him want to break you out of your shell.

“You're kind of the shy and quiet type, huh?! I like that; some people say I'm reserved, so I guess I can relate,"

"You don't seem like it; you seem like an outgoing person." You look at him for a second. His captivating hazel-green eyes burn into yours, causing a flutter in your chest.

"Well, I sometimes can be both; I'm a little reserved when I don't know the person, but if I know you, I'm more open, I guess," Terry explained, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"What makes me so different?" You asked in a playful tone, building some confidence.

Terry laughs and smirks, "I guess you're that special!"

You felt like your heart exploded the way he looked at you, obviously attracted to you. You just nodded, looking away, trying to hide your smile.

“Hey....come on, I was just getting used to hearing that pretty voice of yours,” Terry said, leaning in, and your breath hitched.

You and Terry chatted throughout the entire plane ride. Although you were still a bit shy, you found yourself being more talkative than before, which felt positive.

Perhaps Terry was just what you needed for this trip. Once your group arrived at the stunning villa, you marveled at its beautiful interior.

“Alright,” Maya announced, her enthusiasm infectious as she gathered everyone to discuss the week's activities. She carefully ensured everyone felt included and excited about them.

Maya suggested you all chill and settle into our bedrooms for the afternoon. You began rolling your heavy suitcase down the hall, its wheels clicking softly against the floor.

“Do you need a hand?” Terry asked, approaching with a friendly smile and ready to help you with your suitcase.

"Yeah, thanks." You said with a small smile, walking to your bedroom door and walking in.

"You can put it right there, " You said, pointing at the chair before you and indicating that he should place it there. Terry glanced at you curiously as if he were too nervous to ask a question.

A moment of silent communication passes between you. Terry stepped forward, closing the distance, and you felt your heart race.

You instinctively wanted to shy away, but you fought against the urge, reminding yourself to be brave.

“I hope this doesn’t sound too forward, but I would love to take you on a date tonight. I am drawn to you and want to crack your shy shell and see what’s inside. Of course, only if you want me to," He expressed with a hopeful smile.

“I would love that, Terry,” You said with a smile. Terry smiled back, gave you his number, and set the date plans.

He walked out, winking at you as he left the bedroom. You bit your lip and excitedly squealed, jumping dramatically onto the comfortable bed.

-

You told the girls about the date, and they were so excited that they went upstairs to your bedroom to help you out.

“I don’t think I can do this; it's been so long since i've been on a date, and all together, I'm shy as fuck” You said, getting your nerves up.

“Babe, it’s fine. You need this, and Terry is an amazing guy. We wouldn't have brought him on this trip if we didn't know he would be perfect for you.” Sasha says, ease your anxiety a lot more.

“Sasha is right; just have fun and let go, but not too much; you might get dicknotized,” Maya smiles playfully as she hands you a sexy yellow dress that catches the light beautifully.

"This will look amazing on you," She added, her eyes sparkling excitedly. As you slipped into the dress, your nerves faded, replaced by a sense of pride.

Maya's perfume filled the room as she sprayed on you; it had a familiar and comforting aroma.

Sasha, the fashionista, was styling your box braids and applying your makeup while you looked in the mirror.

"Remember," She said, glancing over her shoulder, "confidence is key. Just be yourself."

After saying bye to Sasha and Maya, you closed the door behind you and took a deep breath. You were walking downstairs and Terry stood there at the bottom, clearly waiting for you.

His eyes widened, taking in every detail. You couldn't help but giggle at his look of awe. He seemed captivated by your radiant beauty, his gaze lingering on your elegant curves.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” Terry said. You smiled and looked him over, noticing he was wearing a black button-up shirt and shorts.

"Thank you. Um..you look beautif-I mean handsome!" You cursed at yourself in your mind, feeling totally embarrassed, and Terry found it cute.

"Thanks! Are you ready?" Terry asked, holding his arm out with a smile and you happily accepted.

Both of you walk leisurely down the path, arm in arm while listening to the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore accompanies you as you make your way to the charming ocean-view restaurant that overlooks the sparkling waters.

You and Terry walk inside, and the warm glow of the intimate setting welcomes you. You find a cozy table for two awaiting your arrival. Moments later, a friendly waiter approaches, ready to take your drink orders.

While waiting, Terry struck up a conversation that flowed effortlessly. His warm smile and engaging demeanor made it easy to share about yourself. With every exchanged joke and smile, you found yourself becoming more comfortable, as if he had a talent for bringing out the best in people.

His smooth charm was evident; he made you feel special and understood, gently encouraging you to step out of your shy little shell and embrace the moment because the air between you crackled with sexual tension, growing palpable by the minute.

The waiter approached your table, balancing a tray of drinks that shimmered in the dim light. He set them down before you with a polite smile. After taking your food orders, he left you both.

Terry, his eyes sparkling, leaned in closer, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“While we wait, how about we play a game of ‘Would you rather?’” Terry proposed, the excitement in his voice making the suggestion feel inviting.

"Okay," You replied, intrigued and ready to dive into the game.

“Okay, would you rather…” Terry started, propping his chin on his hand as he contemplated the question.

“Would you rather live deep in the ocean or explore the vastness of space?”

You paused for a moment, considering the options carefully. “Hmm, that’s a tough choice. But I think I would choose space,” You finally replied.

“Mmm, interesting! What makes you lean toward space?” Terry inquired, leaning forward with curiosity.

“I have always been interested in space and astronomy. If I could, I would be an astronaut, and the experience would be exciting,” You said, taking a sip of your wine.

"Wow, I would love to learn more about that, but it's your turn," Terry said, his eyes lighting up with curiosity and a warm smile spreading across his face. The "Would You Rather" game had been going for a while and had taken a slightly naughty turn.

Before long, the waiter arrives with both of your meals, setting them down on the table with a flourish. As the delightful aromas fill the air, you take a moment to appreciate the dishes before returning to Terry.

Intrigued by the connection you two are building, you changed the subject wanting to know about Terry's interests and experiences, eager to learn more about his passions.

Terry paused mid-sentence, his gaze falling on your necklace, which had come unhooked. With a gentle smile, he leaned in close and secured the clasp.

You found yourself momentarily lost in the warmth of his touch, savoring the soft caress against your dark brown skin, a delightful contrast that sent a shiver of warmth through you.

Terry pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips, and effortlessly transitioned back into talking as if nothing had happened. You couldn't help but notice his subtle game; it was working on you like a charm.

Your desire was intense, and your craving seemed to deepen with every word he spoke. You were utterly captivated, wanting him more than ever before.

After dinner, you both walk silently side by side on the beach. Your hands nearly touch until Terry grabs yours and holds it, making you smile.

You slowly look up at him, and you find that his eyes are already fixed on you.

"What?" You asked.

"Just admiring how gorgeous you are," Terry stopped you from walking by wrapping his arms around your plump waist.

You touched his chest, thinking you both would finally kiss. But Terry was teasing you again. He lifted you slightly, catching you off guard and causing you to drop your purse and heels.

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing, Terry?” You gasped, struggling to escape his firm hold on you.

“Let’s get in the water; I bet it’s cold,” He said, trying to pull you closer.

“No, Terry!” You squealed, quickly breaking free from his grasp and running away from him with your tongue sticking out.

“Hey!” he yelled, chasing after you. When he finally caught you, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and started tickling you.

You bounced up and down with laughter, trying to escape his grip. Just as Terry was about to say something, he accidentally tripped over something in the sand. Both of you fell together. You looked at him, and he looked at you.

You both laughed as Terry rolled off of you, pulling you onto his chest and kissing the top of your head, making your heart flutter. He eventually helped you out of the sand and retrieved your purse and heels.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, surprising him with the suddenness of your action. As you pulled back, a shy smile crept onto your face, and you turned your gaze to the side, feeling excitement and nervousness.

In an instant, Terry reached out, his fingers gently cupping your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes searched yours, a blend of sweetness and warmth reflected in them.

Then, without breaking his gaze, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing softly against yours as he kissed you, igniting a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

You let out a muffled moan, feeling his hands gliding over your ass with a gentle yet teasing touch. Your breath caught in your throat, pulling away while feeling him firmly grasping it.

"Do you wanna continue this back at the villa?" Terry asked, his eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at you.

"Yes," you said, nodding firmly as you still held the gaze. Your voice remained steady, even as a whirlwind of emotions surged within you—excitement, desire, and a hint of nervousness mingled together.

-

Once stepped into the bedroom, Terry pressed you against the solid door. His lips met yours in a passionate, rough kiss, feeling an electric spark hit and made your heart race.

"I've been waiting to take this dress off you since I saw you in it," He murmured in your ear, running his hands down the bodice of your yellow dress.

"And it's just driving me wild," He whispered, which made you shiver.

"Well, take it off if you're brave enough," You spoke boldly, which made him smirk.

You gasped as he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the bed. You still couldn't get over the fact that he was so strong to pick you up, which was a turn-on for you.

He picked you down as both of you stood at the edge of the bed; he was kissing your neck, and his lips peppered on your dark-brown skin, pausing here and there to suck on the sensitive flesh.

His hand reached behind your back to find the zipper of your dress, pushing it down to your feet. You step out of it, and his hands touch your exposed breasts.

As you stood there, a wave of insecurity washed over you, causing you to shy away slightly. Just when you thought about retreating and hiding yourself, Terry stopped you. His gaze was steady and inviting, searching your eyes.

"You're beautiful, baby. Don't hide from me!" He whispers genuinely, making you feel warm inside. You kiss him as his hands grip your breasts.

You let out a soft moan, pulling away and popping his black button-up shirt open. You admired his abs and slid your fingers down his chest.

Terry shivered slightly at your touch; you had the same effect on him as he had on you. Both of you practically ripped each other's clothes. You gently laid yourself down as Terry hovered above you.

You pulled him down for another kiss as he cupped your right breast in his hand while his lips moved away from yours. His tongue dragged across the dark area of your areola.

"Such nice big tits, so good to suck," Terry growls and grabs both of your breasts with his hand, squeezing and sucking them, causing you to whimper.

"How does that feel, baby?" He asked, pulling away from sucking your nipples as his right hand traveled down to your wet folds, and circled them.

A loud moan escaped your lips, felt him push two fingers inside of you, prompting you to cover your mouth to avoid being heard by the others.

"Nah, baby girl, none of that. You have no idea how desperate I want to hear you moan for me. If you don’t let yourself make any sounds, I’ll have to find a way to draw them out."

"Yes-yes....ohhhh....It-it feels good....ahh......so good," You moaned, feeling him moved below and rested between your plump legs, glancing up at you. He spread them wide, getting a good look at your pussy.

"Mmmm, a pretty girl with a pretty pussy" He said before placing his hands on your legs and dragging his tongue between your wet folds.

"Yes....fuck....ahh fuck" You moaned, arching your back and grabbing your breasts as he repeated the action with more pressure, his tongue sliding against your bundle of nerves.

"Mmm, tastes so damn good, girl" His hands were holding your wide hips as he continued to suck and lick you dry, drawing desperate soft moans from your mouth. 

Terry buried deeper between your plump legs, which was driving you crazy. The pleasure you were feeling going through your body was so overwhelming.

"Ahh fuck, Terry fucking eat this pussy, mutherfucka" You moaned, and your fingers gently caressed his head, relishing the closeness of him.

Terry chuckles. "Mmm, there you go, keep talking nasty to me, baby. I see I'm bringing the best out of you, the freak in you," He said before resuming devouring your pussy.

Another loud moan escaped your lips as the pleasure built within you, clenching around his fingers while you felt yourself getting close.

"Are you gonna cum, beautiful?" He asked, moving up to look into your eyes and began to finger fuck you fast.

"Yes, Terry, oh shit.....fuck-fuck don't stop fuck." You cried, suddenly cumming hard, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Yeah, that's it, baby girl. Fucking cum for Daddy," Terry said, still fingering you and then smacking your pussy as wet gushing came out of you, causing you to cry.

"Shit, look at that, baby. And I did all that with my tongue and fingers; I can't wait to see how your pussy takes my dick" He said with a chuckle, licking his fingers, and you watched him coming down from your intense high.

You kissed him, slightly tasting yourself as he cupped your breast in his hand while your hand slid down his chest to his throbbing dick; you got a good look at it and gasped at it.

"Like what you see?" Terry whispered in your ear.

"Yes, it's so big," You moaned, moving your hand up and down his length as you kissed him again but deeply. A very deep moan came from his mouth when you got a little faster.

"Fuck, girl, I need you…" Terry said with a slight moan, which made you smile. He moved on top of you and slowly entered your folds, causing you to go bananas.

You were loving the fullness of his thickness inside of you as he began thrusting, drawing soft moans from you. Terry asked, looking down at you to see if it was good, but you nodded.

"Come on, baby. Don't get shy on me again; tell me how it feels?" He asked, his hands on your waist sliding down to grasp your wide hips, pulling you closer so he could bury himself deeper.

"Yes, Terry fuck me, fuck it feels good!" You moaned, wrapping your plump legs around his waist tighter, allowing a new, delicious angle that you both liked.

Your moans became louder and more frequent as his thrusts came faster but still as gently and passionately as ever.

"That's it, girl....let everyone know i'm fucking this pussy good, You like it, you like how I am fucking you" Terry moaned while his rhythm never stopped looking down at you with so much desire and lust;

"Oh yes, Daddy fuck me, it feels so good," You cried, looking up at him as he lifted your legs to his shoulders and pounding into you faster and harder but much more profound.

"Take that fucking dick like a good girl;" Terry growled, tightening his grip on your legs.

"....fuck are you about to cum, baby?" Terry moaned, feeling the warmth of your walls, clenched around him.

"Oh....yes, fuckfuckfuck..I'm-I'm cumming-" You moaned, digging your nails deep into his arms and scratching down.

"Fucking let it go, baby."

"AHHH!!" You screamed, coming hard again and Terry wasn't too far behind, cursing, pulling out; your legs immediately fell to his waist as his hot cum spurted all over your belly, making you slightly giggle.

"Shit," Terry cursed, lowered himself, and propped up on his left arm as his head buried in your neck.

He entirely collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him. You slid your hand up and down his sweaty back while he gave you small, lazy kisses on your face and neck.

Terry rolls off you, and both of you calm down from your high. You bite your lip and turn to prop yourself up to look at him.

"That was—" You couldn't decide what word to use. It was beyond amazing, it was...

"Mind-blowing, yeah," He agreed, looking at you and lifting himself up to kiss you.

"Up for another round in the shower?"He asked, pulling away and caressing your hip.

"Yes!" Both of you smirked at each other and got out of bed to walk to the bathroom; Terry made you cum two more times that night.

[bittersweetcatharsis]

Mr. Curly Mouthwashing is such an interesting and tragic character to me. Not tragic in the way that Anya is- good God, not in the way that Anya is. But tragic in the way that he is a victim of himself, of his own naivety, of his own limited perspective and blind trust. A victim of his own actions and arrogance, and a victim of the direct consequences that stemmed from his poor decisions.

I see a lot of people reading Curly’s character in a way that I just personally didn’t. I could very well be wrong, and I’m certainly open to the possibility, but I actually prefer to think that I’m right, because it’s these layers and dimensions to his character that make him so interesting and complex.

He wasn’t a “bad” guy. Not in the way that Jimmy is, who had every opportunity to do the right thing just ONCE, and yet failed to, because that selfishness and cowardice is ingrained in his very core. Unlike Jimmy, Curly was just an ignorant guy. Not malicious by intent, but ignorant nonetheless. That doesn’t justify anything he did, or anything he failed to do, but it explains more about him than a simple write-off of his character does.

Curly was operating under an illusion of grandeur. His belief of his power transcended his position and extended into every facet of his life. His approach to confronting Jimmy wasn’t because he didn’t believe Anya, but because he viewed Jimmy as misunderstood just as much as Jimmy himself did. He inappropriately sought nuance in a situation that didn’t need it. On top of Curly and Jimmy’s history and camaraderie- as well as Jimmy’s raging victim-complex that so obviously influenced Curly’s perception of him- the fact that he was disillusioned by the extent of his control ultimately led him in failing to protect his crew. Anya especially.

In the very beginning of the game, we see him talk about how he knows he should have raised more of a concern about adding a fifth member of his crew without enough cryo-pods to accommodate Daisuke. It is this blatant dismissal of safety protocol that reveals just how shortsighted and ignorant Curly can be. And when Anya revealed her abuse to Curly, it’s this same ignorance that led him to confronting Jimmy.

Curly wasn’t trying to dismiss Anya, and he certainly wasn’t trying to betray her. He simply lacked her perspective. As a man, he couldn’t begin to fathom the feminine experience with the intrinsic evils of masculinity and the patriarchy. He has this almost childlike sense of optimism, thinking Jimmy would reveal himself to be a deeply flawed and misguided- but ultimately good- person, only to be confronted with the reality of Jimmy’s narcissism, insecurity, and apathy. By then, it was too late. He was an enabler. He had protected Jimmy. He had given him all the resources to hurt the very people he was entrusted to protect. It was a wake up call that came too late, a raising of red flags after Jimmy’s evil had already been revealed.

Curly should be held accountable for his failures and shortcomings- “take responsibility”- but I also believe he should be viewed sympathetically. It’s too easy to brush past the little details that make him so damn human in pursuit of a simple explanation. There are some people, like Jimmy, who have a full understanding of their privilege, and weaponize it as a means to control, coerce and abuse the people around them. Then there are others, like Curly, whose privilege has been so second-nature to them that it becomes entirely invisible. Had Curly realized this earlier, he very well could have prevented the fate of himself, of Anya, of Daisuke, and of Swansea. Even as a victim of Jimmy’s derangement himself, Curly ultimately was a perpetrator in his own right.

I don’t think Curly is a “bad” guy. I think he’s just a wrong guy. A guy who was arrogant, but not malicious. Ignorant, but not evil. He’s just as easy to blame as he is to mourn. He’s a walking paradox. He’s an absolutely brilliant character.

[redrose10]

This was a request for cop Yoongi from @maryhopemei. I already had something similar drafted so I continued that. I hope it’s okay! I’m working on the requests that I have so I should start getting them out as I get them done.

Bonnie and Clyde

Cop Yoongi x Female Cop Reader

Warnings: Guns, violence, gangs, hostage situations, slightly suggestive, mentions of blood and murder, swearing

*******************************************************

Sitting in the crowd watching the newest graduating class of the police academy made you feel proud of course, but it also filled you with dread because you knew one of the rookies was going to be your new partner. You tended to work better alone and you definitely didn’t want your partner to be some newbie that was just going to get in your way.

The captain had dropped the bombshell on you last week. He was kind enough to let you choose your new partner which you promised to advise him of your choice after the graduation ceremony. As you scanned the recruits you thought back to through your options:

Jeon Jungkook: Age 26

Top of his class in physical activities, definitely had the body of a cop, would be your first choice to have next to you in a physical altercation but since you were in narcotics you wanted more brains than brawn.

Park Jimin: Age 28

Didn’t look like a typical cop but maybe that was a good thing. Aced all of his verbal and written tests. You’d spoke to him a couple times and he seemed too sweet so you knew he’d get eaten alive in your line of work and you didn’t want to be responsible for that.

Min Yoongi: Age 31

His superiors noted that he had all the skills necessary to make a great cop but seemed to hold back. He was quiet and mostly kept to himself but was very observant. He didn’t look happy to be there just like you... That was your guy.

So after the ceremony you let the captain know that you’d chosen Yoongi as your new partner much to his surprise, but he obliged and said he’d have the paperwork entered right away.

The next morning you walked into the narcotics department ready to start the day when you ran into your new partner, already making himself comfortable in the desk right next to yours.

Trying to be polite you introduced yourself with a handshake, “Hi, My name is Y/N.”

For a moment he stared down at your hand like he was pondering if he should shake it before he ultimately took it in his, “Yoongi”.

Captain Cho called an emergency meeting wanting to provide some updates on the big case you all were working on.

In the meeting room you took a seat next to Detective Kim Namjoon, one of the few people you trusted.

The walls of the meeting room were littered with photos and drawings, some scribbled with notes.

Captain Cho pinned a new photo onto the wall, “This is Jung Seo Joon. We have confirmed him to be the newest member of Saaghan as he was just recently initiated. He is the third addition this month so we have reason to believe that Kim Myung is planning an attack and trying to beef up his team. We need all officers to be on the lookout and prepared for anything.”

You took in the photo doing your best to memorize the man in front of you.

“Y/N and Yoongi please stay back. I have some things to discuss with you.”, Captain Cho announced before dismissing everyone else.

“Y/N, please get Yoongi caught up on everything with this case so far. Then I want the two of you to head to this address and scope it out. We have reason to believe that Myung hangs out here.”, the captain said handing you a piece of paper.

You nodded before stepping aside to let the captain pass.

Once back at your desk you grabbed a bunch of papers, “So we’ve been working on this case for several years. Have you ever heard of the Saaghan gang?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “I know more about them than you could ever imagine.”

You bit your lip trying not to say something nasty back. This is exactly why you liked to work alone.

“Okay fine. Let’s just go scope out this location then since you’re already up to date on everything.”

You didn’t even wait for him before storming off to your assigned car.

The location was a small kbbq restaurant on the other side of the city in a run down alleyway. Definitely not somewhere you’d expect a wealthy gang leader to hang out.

“There he is. That’s are guy.”, you whispered after seeing Myung walk out of the restaurant followed by six men in suits.

Yoongi’s hand tightened around his gun, “We should just kill him now.”

You shook your head, “Are you crazy? We’re severely outnumbered. They’ll definitely kill us.”

“If you were a decent cop we could take them right now.”, he scoffed.

“And I’m being a decent human being by not killing YOU right now.”, you mumbled getting an amused laugh out of your partner.

It was a few months later and you and Yoongi were finally starting to warm up to each other a little. His sarcastic remarks started becoming funnier and less annoying to you. You brought him coffee in the morning and he bought you lunch in the afternoon. One day he even dropped by your apartment to bring you soup and medicine after you had called in sick.

He also started following up on the case more and more. He provided lots of good intel on Myung and his gang which you desperately needed. You felt like things were going in the right direction and you were happy to have him as your partner.

Then one night Namjoon stopped you in the hallway and invited you back to his desk.

“Y/N I want to talk to you about Yoongi.”

“Okay?”, you questioned confused.

“I just…I…something seems off about him.”

You were feeling a little defensive about your partner/almost might be considered a friend/very secret take it to the grave crush.

“What do you mean?”, you spat.

Namjoon adjusted his glasses, “Y/N I’m not trying to be disrespectful I promise. It’s just… don’t you think it’s a little weird how he knows so much about the case already? He’s pointed out high ranking members of the Saaghans before we could even attempt to yet somehow Myung always happens to escape as soon as we get there like he knew we were coming. And Jin said he walked in on him getting dressed the other day. He said he has a tattoo…THE tattoo.”

You felt your heart skip at the mention of the tattoo. It was confirmed that all members of the Saaghan Gang had the same tattoo. It was a part of the initiation. All official members had a tattoo on the left side of their chest. A tattoo of a snake curled around a demon, the official symbol of the gang. It was a very distinct tattoo and every artist in the country knew not to tattoo it on anyone that wasn’t official.

You scoffed, “So we’re going by he said she said now? Maybe Jin was mistaken. Besides he shouldn’t be creeping on other officers while they’re changing. That sounds like an HR issue.”

Namjoon sighed getting frustrated, “He wasn’t creeping. It was an accident and why would he lie about something like that? Look Y/N…I know he’s your partner and you guys are getting close but I’m just saying to be careful and keep an eye on him.”

Wordlessly you got up and exited his office feeling angry and hurt but also a little unsure at the same time.

You spent the next few weeks trying to get a glimpse of Yoongi’s chest without making it obvious.

You suggested working out together which he surprisingly agreed to until you suggested swimming as an option. He said he preferred to work on weight training instead of cardio.

You “accidentally” spilled a cup of coffee on his shirt before conveniently pulling a spare out of your backseat. He thanked you and grabbed the shirt before walking into the nearest convenient store to use the restroom to change.

You invited him over to your apartment for dinner and drinks. You poured him shot after shot. You also had a few yourself to try and calm your nerves. Before you knew it, he had pinned you down on the couch, his mouth leaving marks on your skin as his hands roamed underneath your shirt searching for your bra strap.

You were hazy with lust. You wanted him and you were shocked yet excited that it seemed like he wanted you too. Forgetting about the reason you were even in this position to begin with you reached for his shirt and started unbuttoning it. You got three undone before he stopped you and pulled away.

You panicked thinking maybe you misread the situation.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I shouldn’t have done that. We’re both drunk and I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you and we’re co-workers on top of it. I don’t want anything to be complicated between us.”

Before you could reassure him he grabbed his coat and stumbled out of your apartment leaving you feeling all different emotions that revolved around more than just a tattoo.

After that night the two of you remained on a strictly partner/co-worker relationship. The coffee and lunch breaks stopped. You didn’t speak unless it involved work related discussions. You were hurt and disappointed and maybe a little bit heartbroken.

Then one evening Captain Cho called an emergency meeting.

“We have received reliable intel that Myung will be meeting a new supplier at this abandoned factory located at the port. We need to dress and be ready to move out within the next fifteen minutes to meet him there. Everyone have your eyes and ears open. No one goes in alone and no one gets left behind.”

You and Yoongi loaded into the waiting van as it began the hour drive to the location. Namjoon who was sitting across from you gave you a smile and a light squeeze to your knee knowing that you still got a little nervous during raids like these. Yoongi grumbled about something when he noticed you two but you didn’t care enough to clarify.

The van pulled up to the location and you and the rest of the team exited and quietly made your way to the warehouse. You followed closely behind Yoongi up several flights of stares. Suddenly Yoongi stopped after you heard talking. Peaking around the corner you saw Myung and some other man having an altercation.

Unfortunately at that same moment your radio went off. You had forgotten to silence it, a rookie mistake. Myung shouted something and next thing you knew four men with guns were shooting at you both. Yoongi was trying to push you back as gunshots continued to ring through the air as you did your best to fire back while also ducking for cover.

Captain Cho was shouting over the radio for everyone to retreat and abandon mission. Myung took off running with Yoongi closely behind ignoring the captains orders and forgetting about the no one alone rule so you were forced to also chase after him.

“Yoongi stop!”, you shouted dodging a bullet.

“No I’m gonna kill him. Once and for all.”, he gritted through his teeth while reloading his gun. Captain Cho was demanding for your return but you couldn’t let Yoongi go alone.

“Y/N go back to the base. I don’t want you to get hurt.”, Yoongi said.

You shook your head, “No I’m not leaving you.”

Out of nowhere you felt someone shove something hard into the back of your head.

“Myung you fucking bastard. Back away from her. Now!.”, Yoongi hissed with his gun drawn in your direction.

“Or what?”, Myung spat, “Are you going to kill me? Have me arrested? Don’t you remember our little agreement Yoongi? Did you suddenly stop being a gangster and become a bitch of a good cop?”

You were confused by what he meant by all of that but the cold metal pushed into the back of your head was making it difficult to really think straight.

“Myung if you let Y/N go unharmed…I’ll…I will let you go free and take the blame for everything.”

He chuckled, “No no no Yoongi. That’s not how this works. I make the deals now. Not you.”

Yoongi looked above before turning his attention back to you, “Y/N, on the count of three run.”

You shook your head too afraid to move.

“1…2…3!”, he shouted. You tried to move but your feet were frozen. You heard two gunshots go off. The grip Myung had on your body softened as he dropped to the ground besides you and laid lifeless in a pool of his own blood.

You heard commotion above you and you turned to see Namjoon running down the stairs with his gun still drawn. You looked in front of you and saw Yoongi on his knees grasping his arm as blood was quickly soaking his shirt.

“Yoongi!,”, you screamed running towards him thankful he was wearing a bullet proof vest even though he had been shot in the arm by Myung just before Namjoon had shot him.

Namjoon called for medical attention which quickly arrived and you helped Yoongi over to the waiting ambulance.

You were talking to Namjoon as the medics removed Yoongi’s shirt even though he tried to fight it.

And that’s when you saw it. The tattoo on the left side of his chest clear as could be. You didn’t even excuse yourself from Namjoon instead choosing to storm over to Yoongi as the medic was stitching him up.

He refused to make eye contact with you until the medic was finished wrapping his arm up and left you two alone.

“Y/N let me explain.”, he said with his hands reaching out for you. He was cut off when your hand slapped across his cheek leaving a red mark.

You were fighting back tears as you bit your lip, “How could you? You’re one of them. I trusted you Yoongi. Namjoon tried to warn me and I didn’t listen to him.”

He shook his head, “Y/N listen to me. It’s not what you think. I am a member but not like that.”

You scoffed but stood silently otherwise waiting for him to continue.

“My father owed Myung a lot of money. He couldn’t pay him. One night he came to our apartment with two of his men. They…”, he took a deep breath. This was clearly hard for him to say, “They demanded the money and when he couldn’t pay them Myung killed my father. I was hiding in the closet. I was twelve years old when I watched that evil excuse of a man murder my father. Myung had his men stalk me for years. He would never kill a minor. Then when I turned eighteen he started demanding I repay my fathers debts. Of course I didn’t have the money. One night he had his men kidnap me. He told me that I either repay the debts or he would kill me right then just like he had done to my father.”, Yoongi took a shaky breath before continuing again, “Out of fear and desperation I offered him a deal. In exchange for not killing me I would work for him. To my surprise he accepted it. Over time I earned his trust and his respect and made it to a high raking position in the gang. But…but the entire time I was plotting a way to get him back and avenge my father’s murder. So when he came up with this plan to have someone infiltrate the police to get intel I volunteered. I had to do little things like let him know when we were coming so that he wouldn’t be suspicious. But now…I got him killed. That’s all I wanted and now I can move on knowing my fathers murderer is dead….and I can get this stupid tattoo removed. I’ve always hated having this disgusting ugly thing on my body.”, he said pointing at the ink.

You were left speechless. You took a few moments to to collect your thoughts until you heard Captain Cho demanding everyone return to the van immediately.

“Yoongi…I…I’m sorry you went through all of that.”, you whispered reaching for his hand, “Umm but Myung’s men will try to avenge his murder too. Once they find out you turned on him they’ll come after you. You’re in danger Yoongi.”

He shook his head, “I’ll be fine Y/N. I’m going to quit the force and I’ll move far away. But you need to distance yourself from me. They’ll come after you too if they know that you are important to me.”

“Yoongi you can’t leave. You can’t leave the force. You can’t leave me.”, you begged.

“Y/N I need to. For your safety. I love you Y/N and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because of me.”

You didn’t even fully register what he had just said to you said before Namjoon walked over and interrupted you, “Listen guys, Cho is ready to loose his shit. We need to go. Hey… where did Yoongi go?”

You nodded before looking around in a panic realizing that Yoongi had disappeared. You looked through your surroundings but it was too dark and you couldn’t see him anywhere.

Dejectedly you followed after Namjoon unsure of what would happen next.

It had been twelve months since you last saw Yoongi at the port. He vanished without a trace. His apartment was left untouched. He never officially resigned from the force but just stopped showing up so they were forced to fire him. You woke up every day hoping you would get some kind of a sign that he was okay. You knew that Myungs men had set their focus on finding him just like you had expected they would. It was hard for you to hear about it but it motivated you to capture every single one of them.

On a Wednesday morning you walked into work feeling exhausted and stressed. You placed your things down on your desk before getting called into Captain Cho’s office.

He handed you a piece of paper, “We got a call from an anonymous informant. They said they have specific details about the whereabouts of Jung Hoseok, the new leader of Saaghan.”

You nodded, “Okay should we get a team together?”

The captain shook his head, “The informant demanded you come alone. He said if you had anyone with you he’d refuse to talk so you’re going to be wired but you’ll go alone. We’ll have backup holding back a few blocks away.”

You nodded nervously but agreed to go.

When you got to a similar kbbq restaurant as before you walked inside to find it completely empty. The elderly woman behind the counter greeted you and directed you to a small room upstairs already knowing who you were there for.

In the small room Yoongi greeted you with a smile. He was dressed in a suit minus the jacket, his hair was much longer than the last time you saw him and he had a noticeable scar going through his right eye.

“Y/N, how have you been?”

“Good, and you?”, you responded still in shock at seeing him.

He nodded, “Great actually, especially now that you’re here.”

Yoongi walked over to you slowly and began pulling on the wire that ran along your body. Of course he knew it would be there. In one snap he disconnected it.

“I know we don’t have long until your team swarms the place now so I’ll make this quick.”, he said putting his jacket on and then handing you a loaded gun. “Run away with me Y/N. I’ll take care of you and provide for you. I’ll keep you safe and you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again.”

“Yoon-Yoongi I can’t do that.”, you stuttered.

“Yes you can Y/N. If you want to be with me like I want to be with you then you can. You know that we can’t be together like this. A cop with a gangster. It’ll never work.”

You shook your head, “But you’re not really a gangster. We can explain what happened. Sure you’ll probably have to do a little jail time but if you agree to provide info on the gang members I’m sure they’ll reduce your sentence significantly. Then we can get you protection and everything.”

He cocked his gun hearing your fellow officers pull up, “You’re right Y/N…I wasn’t a real gangster…but a lot has changed in the last year.”

He walked over to the window and pushed it open before tossing a large duffel bag onto the roof of the building below. Then he turned in your direction. He held his hand out to you with a smirk, “So what do you say Y/N? Want to be the Bonnie to my Clyde?”

[girlactionfigure]

Worn and weary, balding, with sad eyes, Raoul Wallenberg looked much older than his 31 years of age when in 1944 he was assigned the responsibility of saving Jews in Hungary. The assignment came by way of the War Refugee Board, an American organization formed that same year with the goal of saving Jews from persecution by the Nazis.

Raoul, who had some Jewish lineage but was not considered Jewish, was born in Sweden to a prominent family of bankers, diplomats, and politicians. He was expected to follow in the footsteps of his family, but he decided to become an architect.

He went to study architecture in America, at the University of Michigan. During his time in college, Raoul worked odd jobs despite his family’s wealth, and hitchhiked across the US, Canada, and Mexico during holidays. He continued hitchhiking even after getting robbed and thrown into a ditch by four men who offered him a lift. In a letter to his grandfather, Raoul wrote of his love of hitchhiking, “When you travel like a hobo, everything’s different. You have to be on the alert the whole time. You’re in close contact with new people every day. Hitchhiking gives you training in diplomacy and tact.”

Raoul finished the University of Michigan with honors, even winning a medal for his scholastic achievements. Unable to find architecture work in Sweden after graduation, Raoul briefly lived in South Africa, soon moving to Palestine for a banking apprenticeship. It was in Palestine that Raoul first encountered Jewish refugees from Germany. The refugees made a strong impact on Raoul.

Upon returning to Sweden, Raoul went into the import/export business with a man of Hungarian Jewish decent. Once it became harder for his partner to travel to Hungary due to his being Jewish, Raoul started making the trips himself. He traveled frequently to Budapest, learned Hungarian in addition to his already knowing French, English, German, and Russian, and ultimately went on to head the international arm of the business, soon becoming a joint owner of the company.

In 1944 Germany occupied Hungary. At the time of the occupation, Hungary had close to 700,000 Jewish citizens. By the time Raoul arrived in Hungary on his mission of rescue, over 400,000 of them had been sent to Auschwitz.

Raoul wasted no time. He did everything he could think of to save Jewish people. He bribed, extorted, bluffed, and threatened to achieve his aims of saving as many people as possible.

With a fellow Swedish diplomat he created official looking protective passes to give out to Jews granting them Swedish citizenship and making them exempt from wearing the yellow badge that Nazis required them to wear. Sandor Ardai, one of Raoul’s drivers, recalled a time when Raoul came upon a train full of Jews about to depart to Auschwitz,

“He climbed up on the roof of the train and began handing in protective passes through the doors which were not yet sealed. He ignored orders from the Germans for him to get down, then the Arrow Cross [the Hungarian Nazi party] men began shooting and shouting at him to go away. He ignored them and calmly continued handing out passports to the hands that were reaching out for them. I believe the Arrow Cross men deliberately aimed over his head, as not one shot hit him, which would have been impossible otherwise. I think this is what they did because they were so impressed by his courage. After Wallenberg had handed over the last of the passports he ordered all those who had one to leave the train and walk to the caravan of cars parked nearby, all marked in Swedish colours. I don’t remember exactly how many, but he saved dozens off that train, and the Germans and Arrow Cross were so dumbfounded they let him get away with it!”

In total Raoul gave out tens of thousands of such protective passes, but the German government eventually caught on to the ruse and ruled the passes invalid. When Raoul heard of this, he called on Baroness Elisabeth Kemeny, the wife of the Hungarian Minister for Foreign Affairs in Budapest, for help,

‘’Raoul implored me to help. He was desperate. I talked to my husband and said he must do something. He told me ‘I can’t fight the whole cabinet.’ But after midnight word came that 9,000 passes would be honored. I can still remember Raoul’s elation, his happiness.’’ The baroness had finally persuaded her husband to help by threatening to leave him if he didn’t.

When the Germans abandoned the use of trains to transport Jewish prisoners, instead forming 125 mile death marches toward Auschwitz, Raoul began visiting stopping areas to save people.

“‘You there!’ The Swede pointed to an astonished man, waiting for his turn to be handed over to the executioner. ‘Give me your Swedish passport and get in that line,’ he barked. ‘And you, get behind him. I know I issued you a passport.’ Wallenberg continued, moving fast, talking loud, hoping the authority in his voice would somewhat rub off on these defeated people…The Jews finally caught on. They started groping in pockets for bits of identification. A driver’s license or birth certificate seemed to do the trick. The Swede was grabbing them so fast; the Nazis, who couldn’t read Hungarian anyway, didn’t seem to be checking. Faster, Wallenberg’s eyes urged them, faster, before the game is up. In minutes he had several hundred people in his convoy. International Red Cross trucks, there at Wallenberg’s behest, arrived and the Jews clambered on…”

In one of his final acts of rescue, Raoul intimidated the supreme commander of German forces in Hungary, Major-General Gerhard Schmidthuber, into not blowing up a Jewish ghetto housing 70,000 people. As the war was coming to an end and there was not enough time to send the remaining Jews to Auschwitz, Adolf Eichmann, a major organizer of the Holocaust, ordered the slaughter of all Hungarian Jews in one mass execution. When Raoul found out about this, he sent word to Schmidthuber that if he were to go through with the slaughter, Raoul would personally see that he was hanged for crimes against humanity after the war. Knowing that Hitler was close to defeat, Schmidthuber acquiesced and called off the massacre.

Raoul took such risks because his perspective on the work he was doing was simple, “I will never be able to go back to Sweden without knowing inside myself that I’d done all a man could do to save as many Jews as possible.”

In total Raoul saved close to 100,000 Jews. He himself was captured by the Soviets on suspicion of being a spy and is presumed to have died a Soviet prisoner.

Historical Snapshots

[tjalexandernyc]

I suspect that help lines and mental health organizations are going to be swamped with people in need over the next few days and weeks.

If you are speaking to someone who is suicidal, or are suicidal yourself, I want to say a few things to hopefully demystify that.

First, it may be scary esp if this never or rarely happens to you, but passing thoughts about dying or wanting to die are a fairly normal response to extreme stress. Your brain is looking for actions to take. It is going through its catalog of possibilities. That doesn't mean it's right.

My brain, for example, often suggests we eat an entire thing of gummy bears when I know it will hurt my tummy. Same principal. A person's thoughts and urges are not them. It doesn't make you a bad person.

Now, I am not downplaying those feelings either. They may be brief, but they are very real. Many of us have a tendency to want to tell people who are thinking of killing themselves that everything will be OK, that they need to STOP. That what they're thinking & feeling is wrong.

This is a dangerous thing to do. If you tell a person who is thinking of suicide "you're wrong to be thinking like that; things aren't so bad; you're overreacting" it's 1) not very helpful and 2) makes them feel even worse.

Instead, compassion. Empathy. Listen to them. "It makes sense that you feel that way." Because it fucking does. Even if it's not how you, personally, would feel in the exact situation. (as if you could ever know that, but that's besides the point.) The point is, when a person is unmoored they are looking for a place to hold onto. You can be that landing spot for them. It doesn't feel or look like heroism because it's mostly simple stuff: listening, not arguing about the validity of their feelings, being there.

And if it's you going through it, my friend, I love you. I love you. I love you. And I'm right there with you.

Ultimately, the taboo of talking about suicide is more about a fear of emotional intensity than it is of death, though of course that is part of it. If you can be brave enough to face intense emotion, death is nothing.

Look, I'm just some guy, so you don't have to listen to me. I hope everyone can access the care they need to stay safe, but I also hope we can care for each other.

To be fully transparent, the first email I sent out this morning was to my therapist, who I haven't seen in over 3 years. I know myself; I know my patterns; I know I'm going to need help in the coming weeks and months. I am not ashamed of this.

Please do not feel ashamed if you need help too.

[inkedinfusions]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 8

⊱𖣂⊰ | In which you fall into a fictional world with the key to Pandora's box.

⊱𖣂⊰ | masterlist

⊰– prev   next–⊱

𝟎𝟖 | 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

chapter word count: 3.3 k

content warnings: blanket warnings

a/n: So we are doing this again, where I say that I'm too busy and the next chapter will take a while and then I turn my back and upload on schedule. Anyway. I hope ya'll enjoyed last chapter's cliffhanger!

Thanks for reading!

𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 are taken aback is a gross understatement; you’re utterly stunned. Your eyes widen a fraction, and for a millisecond the air, the ocean, and your heart all still. 

Never in your dreams –well, maybe some of them– would you have thought that your name would come out of his mouth seconds after meeting you. There are no introductions to serve as prelude to his words, no past interactions to serve as crutch for rationalization. 

The gleaming moonlight is suddenly much more brilliant, bathing you both in silver rays. Your hair sways in the salty ocean breeze, and so does his, matching yours in a gentle rhythm. The wind is much calmer than the storm that heralded your arrival, air strangely warmer despite the environment that would suggest otherwise. 

Your name in his lips is not a question, but rather an answer. 

He, somehow, knows who you are, as his tone does not ask if that is your name, but instead states it with the certainty only someone familiar with another can. It is strange, how his eyes speak of understanding, how his stance speaks of kinship.

You are frozen in place for what seems like eternity, but is likely just a couple of seconds. Hange’s enthusiastic voice is lost in the pulse of the sea’s waves, in the drum of your heart, in the whisper of breath of your unasked questions. 

How? Is the first one your mind asks.

Zeke, you reply, before discarding the idea. It is neither logically sound nor something coherent with the instructions and warnings you were given. The Scouts never knew about the Volunteers before they set foot on the island, never considered such an organization's existence in the first place, and much less one that Zeke led. 

Invariably, you know him. 

Unexpectedly, he knows you. 

“What?” you instead ask out loud, when you notice that he is searching your response for confirmation.  

You hesitate with your question, not unlike when you first asked Yelena who she was. It is terrifying how, just when you feel you have a grasp on what is happening, the rug is pulled from your feet and you are left dazed and confused on the floor. 

It makes you think that when you reweave a new carpet from your loom, when you believe you can see the whole picture it depicts, a loose thread will ultimately be pulled by an unknown force, sending you tumbling down once again. 

You are a bit embarrassed of yourself when he gives you a small smile and your stomach flutters just as your cheeks heat up. Maybe this is a dream you think, and it's not the first time that you are hesitant to accept reality, but it is the first occasion that you don't compare it to a nightmare. 

“Don’t pretend like you dont know me,” he says, further baffling you. “We both know way too much for that.”

“We do?” you ask, before correcting your tone. “We do.”

Eren tilts his head slightly, transferring his weight from one foot to another. “Yeah.”

You’ve noticed that there is a lot of space for silence in your life. Whether it contains unsaid secrets, unasked questions, or unresolved doubts, it always lingers behind you, never broken, never explained. 

And yet now, even with the uncertainty with which you approach the newborn conversation, there is implied solidarity in his words, in his actions. Eren didn’t try to pretend he was ignorant of you for the sake of having aces under his sleeve, nor did he attempt to trade that tidbit of information for another. 

Instead he came down the hill –because you are certain he was given explicit orders to not approach the ship’s crew– and talked to you, making it known that you had a connection. One that may only be just brought forth, but that came to life months before your first meeting, when he received his medal and his memories and his burden, and when you watched his story and his rage and his salvation.

You hear a whistle in the distance, and you whip your head towards its source, the sand and rock shore where the two Volunteers and two Scouts remain. You glance at them, too far away to distinguish their faces, their number, but knowing anyways who it is that stands there. Or maybe not, but you couldn't bear to think that your information was now obsolete. 

“I have to go,” you confess as if it is a great sin. 

Eren, who also turned his eyes to the shrill whistle, looks at you again. You swear his eyes soften, and gleam with something akin to… beholding? As quickly as these thoughts enter your mind you dismiss them, because, even if he could claim to know you through his future memories, it doesn’t excuse what you think you see. And so, you conclude it must be a trick of the light and of your perceived closeness to him through his story. 

He nods, not moving from his place between the dunes. You swallow, also not wanting to withdraw, but then you blink and the spell is broken on your end. The sand once again crunches underfoot, but then you stop when he calls your name again in a soft voice that is carried your way by the salty breeze. And so you cast your eyes upon him again, humming questioningly.

“Tell them your name,” is what Eren says after a moment. “They don't know,” he continues, infusing the word with weight, “but they learned.”

And it should be painfully awkward, how blunt questions and half finished answers are being thrown about, but there is no discomfort in the exchange. You know, and he knows, and you hadn’t realized how refreshing it was to just be, not relieved from the burdens but breathing in spite of them. You wonder if he has come to the same realization. 

“I will,” you say. “Thank you.”

“I’ll find you later,” he says. 

“Yeah,” you answer, almost tripping over your words. “Okay.”

You dont think to ask why until much later, when your feet have already taken you to the other side of the pier, sand crunching rhythmically under your robotic footsteps. Why he would tell you, and why now, and why in that way. But the more you delve into it, the more obvious it becomes. 

Eren knows what is supposed to happen (giant footsteps and crunching bones and the spray of blood and–) and is, in his eyes, powerless to do anything but follow the path already established by his future self, who is likewise chained by the same revelations. Perhaps you are as well, if the haunted look in his eyes is any indication of the unstoppable future that will be realized in a little more than three years. 

Still, everyone seeks salvation, even those who sacrifice themselves in order to save others. You and him are no exception. 

You will save him from his preordained fate, determined by his past, by his future. He will save you from your uncertain destiny, shrouded in mystery and paradoxes. 

Maybe you don't need to reweave a new tapestry just yet; maybe it's enough to only untangle the yarn. 

Hange Zoë is no less enthusiastic than the character you used to watch on Tv. Levi Ackerman is no less distrustful than the man you read manga about. They haven’t greeted you yet, as you’ve only just arrived to stand behind Yelena, next to Onyankopon. 

He glances at you when you arrive, silently asking with his eyes what held you back. You shake your head almost imperceptibly, imploring that neither he nor Yelena press the issue. 

“Is that her?” Hange chirps, curiously referring to you. 

You almost want to look behind you, to see if there's anyone else they might have been talking about, but you know there is no one else in your vicinity, and you're the only one who has approached recently enough to warrant the question. 

“She is the last one.” Yelena says. “Please excuse her tardiness.”

“Oh! Well, in that case it's so nice to meet–” 

“Four eyes,” Levi interrupts. “Now's not the time for chit-chat.” He turns to glance at you, before returning to look at Yelena, the de facto leader. “Expect the ship to be searched while we escort you three to our base.”

“I would expect nothing less,” is what Yelena responds. “Your caution is commentable.”

“Sure,” Levi says dryly, not an ounce of belief in his voice, signaling unnamed Scouts to march onto the ship and its crew. “Get walking.”

You all file in, walking amongst the dunes and rocks, with Yelena at the helm of your little group. You feel eyes on you, but when you turn to look no one in your direct vicinity is watching. Instead, you trip when going up some slippery rocks, too preoccupied with searching for nonexistent eyes, but fortunately Onyankopon catches you, grabbing your arm to prevent your fall. 

The rifle slung over his shoulder rattles with the commotion, and you feel how the others turn to look at you, before registering both your actions as non threatening. 

“Careful there, kid,” Onyankopon says. 

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly, heart still reeling from your near slip. “Sorry for the, uh, tardiness.”

“It's all good,” he reassures you, although you know your notoriety for being late is only growing. 

You also know –well, maybe not know, but you are smart enough to deduce– that Onyankopon does want to ask you about your reasons for not heading directly to the pier after the Volunteer in charge of letting you out of your small cabin reported to his post. 

But he won’t pose the question right now, where there is a great chance of being overheard, and where exchanging secrets would only cause more suspicion from the Scouts. 

There is no idle chatter as you make your way to the multiple tents that make up the Scout’s base, scattered around an open field in an orderly fashion. Small yellow dots light up the entrance flaps of each green structure, and there are multiple barrels strewn around. 

You once again feel eyes on you, only this time you are aware of who those eyes belong to. It is a given that the other soldiers would be apprehensive about the Volunteers sudden appearance, but you notice how their attention lingers a tad too long on you. 

You force yourself not to squirm under the weight of their curiosity, of their judgment. Yelena and Onyankopon get noticed as well, but it is you that garners the most attention. Because, well, adults are what they expected Marley to send, but a teenager? Even if you are older than some of the recruits and Marley didn’t actually send you, it was still something they didn’t account for. 

So it is strange, even to you, who was made aware of this prematurely, how you are included in the small group with the proclaimed leaders of the Volunteer faction. Yeah, you can see why all eyes are primarily on you. 

Hange reaches a tent that seems larger than all of the others, and enters through the flap, and the rest of you follow, flanked by Levi. They grab at the knob of the hanging lantern and the space is coated with light. On the inside there is a table and red chairs, two on one side, two on the other. Hange brings a third one from a corner, raising the total to five.

“Sit, sit!” they usher you, taking their place on the other side of the table. 

“Weapons on the table,” Levi says, less enthusiastically. 

You don't have any weapons to turn in, so you walk towards the chair on the far right and sit, fiddling with your thumbs before you remember to quash the anxieties bubbling inside of you. There is a strong sense of deja vu when you reach for one of the teacups gingerly placed on the table, noting with some sourness how bitter tea always seems to follow you in interrogations and introductions. 

You disassociate for a moment, choosing to retreat into your thoughts, rewinding your earlier interaction with Eren over and over again, not unlike what you used to do with his older brother. 

What sets it apart is the intention with which you are dissecting it, turning his words upside down to squeeze more of that refreshing understanding (You know, and he knows, and you hadn’t realized how refreshing it was to just be—) out. 

There is silence again, but this time it is filled with tension. You blink, unsettled by the lack of discussion between the two Volunteers and the two Scouts, only to find the later ones looking at you expectantly, Levi’s expression disguised with more finesse than Hange’s.

“…Sorry, what?” you ask. 

“Your name,” Hange clarifies. “I asked for your name.”

“Oh,” you say. “It’s Y/n.”

There is something almost imperceptible in the way Hange fiddles with Yelena’s gun, a recognition in both their and Levi’s eyes that you might’ve missed were it not for Eren’s insistence in presenting yourself with your name. 

You risk a glance at Yelena but her eyes are on you, not them, as are Onyankopon’s, so you let yourself breathe, halfway convinced they didn’t notice.

Hange does not miss a beat. “It’s nice to meet you Miss Y/n!” they say, drowning out your protests of Just Y/n please— and placing the gun back on the table, next to the rifle.

You nod, hesitant. “It’s nice to meet you too, uh, …?” You trail off, not remembering if they already introduced themselves or not.

“Hange Zoë, at your service!” They say, nudging Levi when he doesn’t say anything.

“Levi Ackerman.” And if you notice the distinct lack of add on like Hange’s introduction, well, that is to be expected.

Yelena takes the opportunity to steer the conversation away from pointless (to you) introductions and unimportant (to her) dialogue.

“So, about our proposal…”

She launches onto the plan you rehearsed and memorized with Zeke, drilled into your mind enough times as to prevent any slip ups of the scheme only him, Yelena, and you know.

It’s not different at all from the one presented in the series, and although you now have it branded deep in your mind, back home you had to watch several videos and read several posts in order to understand. 

The beauty of Attack On Titan was in the convoluted yet intriguing plot and themes, yet sometimes you needed outside help to comprehend half of the stuff that was going on. The fact that each character has their own motivations and their own secrets on top of the changing allegiances do nothing to help.

Still, hours and hours spent scraping the wiki and watching compilations finally pay off, and you’re confident in your ability to not only remember each plan, but also the people involved and the moments in which their loyalties shifted.

The motions are well rehearsed; Zeke will contact the nation of Hizuru, and Hizuru will contact the outside world, advocating for Paradis, as well as provide the blueprints necessary to help advance the island’s technology.

The plan would take around fifty years to reach completion, the amount of time that is estimated as enough to take to bring Paradis to a similar level technology wise to the rest of modern society. There would be a small-scale Rumbling to show off the island’s power, acting as a deterrent for nations with wishes to invade. 

Hange takes the gun again, pointing it directly at their face. It is unloaded, but it still unnerves you. You weren’t a gun savvy by any means, but the first thing you had been taught by Zeke when going over gun safety was to never ever point the gun at yourself, not even when it had the safety on, not even when it was unloaded. 

Yelena lists off the numbers of personnel in the army, counting all the divisions; the infantry, the navy, and aerial forces. Despite Hange’s and Levi’s best attempts, it is evident how frazzled they are by the revelation. 

One million foot soldiers, three fleets of twenty one battle ships each, new technologies and aerial weapons. Those are the new enemies that they must now fight against, a stark contrast to the mindless but brutal titans they are used to dealing with. 

“If Marley had such capabilities the whole time, why haven’t they attacked in over a year?” asks Hange. 

“There are two main reasons,” Yelena begins. “One; the Pure Titans. Even with the latest weapons available to Marley, they would hinder a land assault. Quite ironic that the very thing that is used to confine Eldians to the island also protects it from outside forces.” 

“Yeah, well, ain’t that funny,” Levi says. 

Yelena sips her tea. “Still, I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?” Hange asks.

Yelena doesn’t answer, choosing instead to take a sip from her cup. She looks at her right, directly at you, as if she wanted you to answer in her place. And you can't and won't ever be able to read her mind, but you’re pretty sure you can guess what she is playing at. 

“It's almost dawn,” you point out. “And we are sitting in a tent drinking tea. There is no commotion outside, no one hurrying to their fighting posts. There are also no protective structures around the base, suggesting that you have exterminated almost if not all titans on the island.”

It's clear they weren't expecting you to speak. Even if Eren told them something, the most logical approach to your presence in the tent was as a buffer, something for the Scouts to pick at, to find weakness in. Yelena is helping you overcome that, because, even if it would be easier to infiltrate them if you are deemed as non-threatening, the trust that would be placed upon you should you be assessed as capable makes them want to take the gamble. 

“And the second reason?” Hange asks. 

“Currently, Marley is at war with multiple nations,” Yelena says. “The loss of the Colossal and Female titan, as well as the defeat of their Warrior unit has given many of their enemies the chance to unite and retaliate against Marley.”

“If you guys are secret agents who infiltrated Marley, I’m guessing you came from conquered nations?” Hange asks. 

Yelena’s and Onyankopon’s faces harden– one fake, one true. 

“Oh, I’m right?!,” they exclaim after. “I bet you’ve got some pretty big backers to go up against Marley then.”

“Not quite,” Yelena says, and after a moment she clarifies. “Onyankopon and I are from conquered nations, but Y/n is Eldian.” There is only one truth in her whole statement, a new record. “We were powerless, forced to play soldiers for the nation that took our homes, but Y/n was deemed a devil the moment she was born.”

The fake backstory you're using makes you a little uncomfortable, but it sure was convenient. They wanted to paint you as smart, but not too intelligent as to outsmart Paradis. Dependable, but not a pushover. Eldian, just like them, facing obstacles even when outside the walls. 

You tune out Yelena praising Zeke for organizing the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers, calling him a god amongst mortals. You hoped that small, subtle discomfort showed in your face, so the two members of the Scouts present would notice that you weren't lost in reverence for Zeke. 

“We are the Anti- Marleyan Volunteers,” she finishes. “Our goal: To free the Eldian people.”

Levi and Hange share glances, no doubt discussing the answer they would give. 

“We would like assurance of your allegiances,” Levi says. “You will not be able to contact Eren, or any of the others for that matter, but we want the girl to come with us.”

taglist: @dressycobra7 @xngelsau @bloodchapell @i-think-im-adorable13 @luna4mnoon @yuuuumii @kermittears @binluvsu

ask or comment to be added!

[clone-wars-retteyo-au]

(Reblogging this on my AU sideblog just because it captures all my thoughts so well) Giant response incoming.

You articulated all my thoughts on the clones' relationships with each other and death better than I articulated my thoughts on the topic. Perfect. No notes.

On the family dynamics side of things, I didn't fully go into it in my original reblog, but in my AU, the clones do find a way to continue cloning (which they do for a complicated series of reasons). And they choose to raise the next generation of clones in a style similar to that of the Jedi. They were never really raised with the concept of a nuclear family or "traditional" familial relationships, instead being raised as a community of "brothers" who all share the exact same DNA, plus the Kaminoan caretakers who are less like family and more just kind of there.

The clones are extremely communal and would definitely prefer to maintain communal/fluid family dynamics, which is exactly the kind that the Jedi have. They also would not really know what a healthy childhood looks like, and since the Jedi introduced them to the concept of being emotionally well-adjusted, I assume they'd look to them for childcare advice.

The thing I noted about found family vs blood relations is a bit complicated and I'll probably make a bigger post on it later, but it's perhaps (in my opinion) one of the most complicated and interesting aspects of being a clone just due to how unique it is to them. Perhaps it's partially the fanfiction getting to me, but a big thing that I noticed and found interesting was the type of loyalty the clones hold towards the greater clone "species." I think I first thought about it during "The Hidden Enemy" and Slick's betrayal. I started to think more about how the clones referred to each other as "brothers" on a collective level, even in reference to clones they've never met.

I think it is a very "brother in arms" kind of situation, but I like to think of it as having a couple of layers to it. One is the "brother in arms" layer, which is the most straight forward and can cause some of the tightest bonds. But there's also a layer of understanding of their situation and marginalization. They have a shared life experience (and existential dread) that is best understood by other clones. It's similar to how many marginalized groups will seek each other out and care for each other due to that shared experience with marginalization. They are clones, and while they may have natborn friends who they care about deeply, nobody will quite get it like other clones will. Growing up on Kamino, the only ones they could rely on were other clones, and even now, the people they can rely on/relate to the most are also other clones. There is a shared experience that is special to them, and thus there is a form of connection that can't exist with natborns.

Another layer is that they have a mindset that some big extended families have. I have a big extended family on my dad's side (grandma had 9 siblings and dad has 32 first cousins) and I barely know half of them. But despite that, we are relatively tight knit. There is this energy of shared understanding that despite not knowing each other, we are all related and thus should care about each other to a certain degree. Is that mindset always healthy? No. But would that exist within the clones? Yeah, probably. There is probably a sense of familial obligation, and sometimes that obligation can become a form of love. They may not all know each other, but they are brothers, so that must count for something, right?

And a final layer is that they are literally clones, and have the ultimate "we are blood related" thing going on. It's a collection of the other aspects wrapped into one big idea. They literally share the same DNA, which is probably a pretty big point of connection. It's a little like being identical twins separated at birth who reunite and are instantly best friends somehow. There is a specific kind of connection in this particular case that is hard to articulate. But it is so unique to the clones, so extremely specific, that I find it to be interesting in its own right.

I think I just generally noticed that the clones seem to view their dynamic with fellow clones differently than they do with natborns. There is a sense of community that is formed by life experiences/the whole military thing, but also in some ways by literal blood. They form that interconnectedness the same way that other groups may, but they are literally all related, and thus the loyalty to blood relations is created. Doesn't mean I believe that blood matters above all else (I have concepts for what beliefs and values the clone culture would have that I disagree with, but think would fit them well), but it could be what many of them think.

I don't know if I'm explaining it well, I just think it could be neat.

~~~~~~

The food headcanons continue. The idea that they are fusing foods together is actually kind of where I got part of the "oh god what did you make" concept from. They find foods that they life from all across the galaxy and end up thinking "these two things are good, so they must be even better together probably idk" and just end up fusing ice cream and baked salmon together. They are excited to try all the good things, and are trying to put the good things together in a way that makes an even better thing.

I've decided that Rex is the one who paints Kanan's eye mask with his bird of prey design.

Kanan's feeling pretty low still just after Malachor, he's still distancing himself from everybody, and Rex decides to go try to talk to him at one point and the first thing he comes up with to say is to point out that his new mask is pretty plain. It's awkward, he regrets it immediately, but then Kanan says that it gets the job done and Rex is abruptly reminded of himself so so long ago back at the beginning of the war.

He sits Kanan down and tells him a story about how, at the beginning of the war, only a few of the clones had paint on their armor, to designate things like rank and battalion in order to make it easier for officers to find them in the middle of a busy battlefield. The paint was practical and it was limited to a very select few. But the Jedi almost immediately started trying to encourage the clones to utilize the paint less sparingly, suggesting that maybe everybody could wear at least a LITTLE paint and use more individualized designs so that it was still easy to tell the commanders and captains apart from the others when needed.

Some of the clones had taken to it with gusto, but others had been more hesitant, and Rex remembers having been one of them. He remembers telling Obi-Wan that there was no real REASON to paint everyone's armor and especially not to come up with personal designs. The armor was practical and it served its purpose with or without the paint and special designs. But the Jedi had insisted on at least TRYING to come up with his own design and if he didn't like it, he could always take it off, so Rex had given in and chosen something to paint on the armor. And, somehow, it felt a little lighter the next time he put it on. It didn't erase the horrors of war or the pain of loss or anything like that, but it helped.

He tells Kanan that the mask right now is just a reminder of the pain of the injury and whatever other feelings he's still got all caught up in the Malachor mission (guilt over what happened with Ezra, grief over Ahsoka's loss). But if he puts his own design on it, it might turn the mask into something other than a constant reminder of something bad. Instead, it's a reminder of who he is, the combination of the person he once was and who he's become. He is more than just his injury or this mission and he can use the mask to declare that if he wants to.

Kanan says he never realized Rex and the other clones had cared so deeply about their armor and Rex says that the armor itself was meaningless. It's better than what's being handed out to stormtroopers, but not but a LOT. It was the design on it that had meant something and, more than that, it was what the design REPRESENTED: having a choice about how you were perceived by others.

Kanan asks why Rex had chosen his particular designs, the bird of prey eyes on his helmet in particular. Rex explains that he chose it because he liked birds and thought it looked cool, but he's kept the helmet for as long as he has because it's come to mean something ELSE now. It's not just a cool-looking design, it's a reminder of a better time in his life. It's a reminder of when he'd been a part of something greater than himself, with the other clones and the Jedi. It's a reminder of a time when he'd had hope that he and his people could one day come out the other side of this war towards a brighter future.

Kanan looks at the mask he'd grabbed from storage somewhere or something just to keep light from hurting his eyes as they recovered and to cover up the injury from other people's stares (even if he couldn't see them staring), then hands it to Rex and asks if Rex minds sharing that symbol because he'd like a reminder of that, too. Rex remembers the 332nd and their helmets that they'd painted to look like their chosen Jedi, almost blindly giving away their individuality in favor of that loyalty that had been stripped from them anyway. And then he looks at Kanan, choosing to make himself look LIKE REX, someone who had shared his face with millions once, because he wants to honor both the connections he'd lost as well as this new connection the two of them have built together now. And Rex says he'd be happy to share.

[fayeandknight]

First and foremost, while this post contains content about docking, I am firmly not interested in debating it. It is part of the standard for this breed in my country and I'm not going to tolerate knocking reputable breeders for adhering to said breed standard.

That said, I am potentially interested in getting into breeding and would like some input from knowledgeable folks.

Some up front info: I have experience with the breed and absolutely adore them. It is a docked breed and part of my interest in getting into breeding is because I want a undocked dog without sacrificing quality.

If I did pursue breeding it would only be under mentorship.

The medium length version of my plan would be to acquire a wonderful male puppy from an excellent breeder. Title him in agility, conformation, and some original breed purpose things. Do above and beyond health testing. Basically prove him to be an exemplary example of the breed. Throughout this I would also be developing a solid relationship with his breeder.

I would want his breeder to arrange the pairing for his breeding, first litter at minimum. I would want to be fully educated on why they decided on the pairing they do and everything that goes into that.

From that breeding I would like to keep a female. She would be docked per breed standard and I would prove her as I did my male. If, and only if, all these things played out this way would I then use her as my foundation bitch for my own program in which the puppies would be undocked.

My program would likely not produce dogs often. Only when I am looking for my next dog and know that I can find quality homes for all puppies. I would also look to my mentor for education on how to match puppies to homes that suit them and all that entails.

So my question to knowledgable folks is, does this sound like a good approach for getting into breeding? Would you be open to working with and essentially taking someone like me under your wing?

As much as I desire an undocked dog from this breed, I don't want to pursue that in an irresponsible or impulsive manner.

Much thanks for your words of experience and wisdom.

[izuizzy]

“First Word” 💙💙

made a comic to express the relief and joy sonic felt when talia finally spoke for the first time once she became more comfortable. [read from left to right]

[edwinisms]

it’s actually so wild to me that this fairly quirky YA type show gave both of its main characters deaths that can, in one way or another, solidly be considered hate crimes. they were both flat out murdered as a result of being A) gay and effeminate or B) brown (south asian, specifically) and you could argue whether or not those kids thought of it that way in the moment or whatever but the bottom line is that they would not have been in the situations that killed them if they weren’t of their respective minorities. like legitimately that is a ballsy choice for this kind of netflix show, let alone for the two Main Characters, and i respect it big time

[theactualsunshinechild]

I think Aventio and Screwtio shippers shouldn't fight. After all, Ratio has two hands!

That's right. Two hands.

One for his chalk.

One for his codex.

Both of which he's holding in an embarrassed death grip as they chat away with each other about him.

[reanimatedgh0ul]

anyways this is my take on lance/kristin lol

[avadmortain]

THE KISS ON TOP OF THE HEAD OH I AM UNWELL ‼️