#i do understand what stops many from protesting and striking here

[beastieclub]

it’s not that protests and demonstrations “dont work”, they very much so do as most any disruptive action will, it’s that americans don’t fucking know how to protest

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Zombie Apocalypse: Yandere Jujutsu Kaisen (2)

Part 1

In an alarming blur of white and black, Gojo introduces himself by jumping in front of you from above

“Hi there (Y/n)! It’s a pleasure to meet you! Chu! You’re as gorgeous as your blood tests suggest.”

“Oh, my Plasma. Please stop embarrassing yourself.”

“Yeah, even I thought that sounded freaky.”

“Well (Y/n) something you’ll find about me is that I’m a freaky guy~”

“Please stop.”

Meeting the eccentric head of the fortress puts you in a spin

Dragging you to dinner and then to some of the activities the fortress has

With a blindfold that occasionally lifts to show striking blue eyes 

You nearly forget to ask the question that introduced him in the first place

“Hey Gojo?”

“Yes, Cutie-pie?”

“Uh…can I get clearance to see the other survivors.”

He gets real quiet 

his smile fades a little but not enough to mean anything

“Why Star-face? I thought you liked all of us over here?”

“I do. I just want to see my group. It’s only been a day but–”

He puts a finger on your mouth not exactly in a shushing motion

But he ushers you away from Yuuji and Megumi who were fighting over a painting

Taking you farther away from all the other members of the fortress he leads you up some stairs

Finally reaching the roof of one of the buildings you can see the other half 

A less developed place

The homes are close, filled with people, and it’s a lot less lit than the areas you’ve been

“That’s where the other survivors go…you want to go down there?”

You hesitate but not for long

“Yeah if my group is there I think we should be together.”

He sighs running a hand through his white hair before taking off his blindfold

Now you can see the way his light eyes dart over the people below 

He laughs 

“That man…with the purple vest pushed a pregnant woman into the horde when they were cornered.”

He doesn’t look at your horrified expression 

Only pointing out a few others who’ve committed something awful

“Why do you let them stay here then? If they did these horrible things?”

“Because they came with those who need us. But too many of them practically kill themselves if they get too far away. It’s like the way parasites shape the brains of their hosts.”

You didn’t like the implication

“Gojo…why do I have the yellow wristband? And why was I separated from my group?”

He pulled you into his chest rubbing his fingers into your side

“Bug, think of it as us intervening before the Parasite gets their final claws in you. Your special and perfect for saving.”

“Wait but my group isn’t–”

“Hush, love. I’m sure you're tired. Today has been a long day for you.”

He ignores any protests from you and only gushes about what you’ll do tomorrow

You stop trying because you are tired 

Letting him lead you back to your room in the tower above the fortress

“Have a fun time, you two?”

“We had a great time!”

He kisses the black-haired scientist before helping himself into your room

He goes through your closets, the bathroom, and your bag still ranting about nonsense you don’t understand

Suguru gives a comforting pat on the back

he gives you a clean version of your pajamas before bidding you goodnight

“C’mon Satoru you’ll get to bother (Y/n) tomorrow.”

“That’s right and I don’t even have work tomorrow so I’ll be with you allll day!”

“Alright, out mister. Goodnight (Y/n) we’ll tell the kids you said so too.”

“Uh, goodnight.”

When the door finally closes you’re able to think about what he said

And then you fall asleep 

Maybe he’s got a point

“So how’d it go?”

“They were asking about the wristband.”

“The whole time?”

“Only at the end, made up somethin’ about parasites.”

“Oh, their friends? I hope you didn’t suggest they were in that town.”

“Eh-I dunno! Can’t you make up something about them being immune?”

“Maybe but it’s going to be hard convincing them.”

“Who cares? We got ‘em now, right? I’d say we try whatever we want.”

“You’re right we do got ‘em.”

They’ll just have to accept whatever we say

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Israel has been preparing for the possibility of a direct strike from Iran. To that end, the IDF has been initiating GPS jamming, first in the south, and now in central Israel as well. On a personal note, I had to calm my mom down today (I could do this thanks to having heard about it on the news already), because it's a scary thing for people, and they don't know what to think, when they open Waze and find themselves "appearing" in enemy territory. Iran's attack options might also include drone attacks, or anti-Jewish terrorist attacks around the world. We've heard about Esther and Mordechai's Tomb being attacked tonight in Iran itself.

Speaking of the country that's the biggest funder of terrorism globally, tomorrow it's "Al-Quds Day" (Jerusalem Day) in Iran. It was established in 1979, after the Islamist revolution, as an antisemitic political measure, meant to help radicalize people against the Jewish state. Officially, it's a protest of Israel's sovereignity in Jerusalem, the city which has been the capital of the Jewish people, the place we pray to, for over 3,000 years, longer than Islam has existed. Some people worry that Iran will use this date specifically to strike against Israel or other Jewish targets around the world.

With or without connection, the chief of Israel's army intelligence is quoted as saying in private conversations, "I have told you time and time again that it is not certain that the worst is behind us and we are ahead of complex days."

Back in February, we heard that the niece of Hamas' overall leader, Ismail Haniyeh, gave birth in an Israeli hospital, and her baby, which was born prematurely, was treated in an Israeli hospital's NICU, the same hospital that had to have millions of shekels spent on, in order to make parts of it safe during Hamas' rocket attacks. While at it, we were reminded that several of Haniyeh's sisters live in Israel after marrying Israeli Bedouins, and that a few more of his relatives were allowed from Gaza into Israel for medical treatment. Just a small reminder that Haniyeh's personal wealth is estimated to be somewhere between 4 to 5 billion dollars (Taylor Swift's is only a little over 1 billion dollars), and if he wanted to, he could have flown his entire family out of there, to join him in Qatar, with the best facilities and care, rather than get medical care at a hospital subsidized by the "genocidal Zionist enemy."

Now we get the news that one of Haniyeh's sisters, a 57 years old woman, has been arrested for helping Hamas, including support for the Oct 7 massacre.

This is 34 years old Lidor Levi.

He was critically injured in the Palestinian terrorist attack in Gan Yavne. He was in a hospital, fighting for his life for 4 days. Today we got the news that he succumbed to his wounds. He leaves a pregnant wife and a daughter behind. May his memory be a blessing.

I will never understand how the accidental killing of 7 civilians in Gaza is making more headlines, and causes more rage, than the on going and intentional killing of so many Israeli civilians targeted in terrorist attacks along this entire war. I can't remember the world even addressing it, let alone raging about how unacceptable these killings are, and how they're proof that Palestinian terrorist organizations must be stopped. For that matter, I haven't come across anywhere as many headlines and world leaders' statements about an intentional drone attack that killed several rescue workers in Kharkiv, where a residential area was targeted. The hyperfocus on the one conflict where Jews can be demonized, is also leaving a lot less attention for, practical aid, and just general caring about other conflicts, which are in many ways far worse (just look at Tigray alone on the below map). It's harmful to so many more people than we come close to realizing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[lesinquietes]

Farmhand!Keigo admires the engagement ring glistening on your finger. It suits you. It’s the one you would have wanted in a few years — instead of a few months — after dating him. He saw your eyes light up when he presented it to you, a couple days after he moved back in. Beyond the horror, and the protests of its too soon, Keigo, he also noticed your face ignite with delight. Whether you want to admit it or not, it’s nice to be showered with affection and desire, isn’t it?

You got sick of resisting him. You got tired of fighting back when he isolated you, and trying to run away from him, and telling him you hate him for trapping you here. Eventually, you realized it’s for the good of you, Keigo, and the other men who live in this town that you concede to his demands.

But hey, it’s not all bad, is it? He understands that he can be possessive sometimes, so he apologizes when you say he goes too far. He doesn’t relent on his demands, mind you, but he knows how to soothe your agitation. Lapping at your clit is a fantastic way to make that pretty mind go blank and dumb for him. After he tips you over into your first orgasm, you’re dazed and overstimulated from his tongue work. It’s the perfect method to keep you pliant.

He doesn’t trust you anymore, so you’re not allowed to leave the house without him. You also aren’t permitted to use the phone or interact with people he disapproves of. He chased your last friend off a few weeks ago. She was persistent, but as soon as he mentioned paying her sister a visit, she folded like a deck of cards. You can’t blame her. If it came down to losing a friend or the death of a sibling, you know what you would choose. Still, the resentment that bubbles in your guts vies for you to despise them all for leaving. Who do you have left, except for him?

He’s taken over your farming tasks. You don’t have to do anything anymore. He expects you to cook the meals and keep the house clean. Oddly enough, you think that’s fair. As much as you would rather be farming, down time is nice, too. But there are only so many hobbies you can adopt. When you voice this complaint to him, in hopes that he invites you to help him in the field, he’s thoroughly pleased. You want somethin’ t’ do, sweetheart? Y’mean it? You walk right info his ploy by asking what he means. Didn’t know you were ready f’r a family, baby. I don’t mind if y’r a li’l pregnant at the wedding.”

You don’t know how the conversation got to this point. Even more strange is how you find yourself agreeing with him. You were never opposed to children. Maybe one or two. No more than three. So, you nod in response to his proposition, and the embrace he gives you is deeply intimate. He’s always wanted a family. He was hoping you would, too. Aren’t you glad you didn’t leave him now?

He brings you upstairs to consummate the decision. There’s a nervousness in your gut. New mother jitters, you guess. But this is what you want. He dives between your legs and suckles on your clit like it bears the sweetest nectar known to man. His tongue flicks and weaves around the nub, stimulating you until your toes curl. When you nearly reach your peak, he stops. He wants you to cum on his cock.

He pushes into you, bullying the tip of his member into your tightness. It’s euphoric. You’re deliciously wet for him. The way he slides inside makes him believe you were meant to be his wife. A low moan that reverberates from your chest to your throat causes him to clench his teeth. He leans down to kiss you on the mouth, panting how much to loves you against your quivering lips. Wrapping your legs around his hips steadies him. His thrusts are more precise. Your eyes lull back when he strikes a particularly gummy spot in your depths. He hisses. You suffocate him when he buries himself. He can’t stop pummelling your core, entranced by the sensation.

Your nails claw his back, captivated by the pleasure he’s giving you. The friction against your clit is drawing you closer to the edge. By the time your orgasm washes over you, drenching you in a wave of unbridled relief, his balls twitch, loaded with semen for your womb. He releases soon after you, holding your body against his, nibbling your earlobe while he cherishes how perfectly he fits in your overstuffed pussy.

If this one doesn’t do it, he’s happy to repeat the process every single night until the tests come back positive.

Previous l

𝔉𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔲

[piratesfromspace]

The Escape (Joel/Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Rated: Explicit Word count: 2.9k Summary: You've been captured by slavers and thrown into the same cell as Joel. Note: I've been through a severe lack of energy and inspiration, but here is my take on Joel, featuring some sweet smut of course! This happens roughly 10 years after the Outbreak, so Joel would be in his 40s and Reader is in her 20s. Content: hurt/comfort, smut, almost-virginity loss, p-i-v, praise kink, alcohol, overall canon typical violence

MASTERLIST

When you’re thrown into his cell - an old bathroom, all broken tiles and rusted pipes - Joel gets tense, hand clenching harder on the shiv he improvised a couple days ago. He has no idea what the slavers are plotting. He’s been held in here for maybe one week now, hard to tell when the days are blending into each other, long boring hours only punctuated by a bottle of water and some food left on the floor without a word.

He knows his worth is in his strength and the slavers have no interest in letting him starve to death - that’s the only positive thing in his whole ordeal. He can’t believe he’s been stupid enough to let himself be captured. But he had reacted one second too late, and there were too many, and here he is, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. 

You land hard on your knees, unable to stop your pathetic fall on the hard floor, as the door of the cell is closed shut once again. He watches, ready to strike, as you scramble to get back in a sitting position - and then you finally notice him, standing tall in one of the corners, the glint of something undoubtedly lethal in the hand he’s hiding behind him. You try to get up on your feet, but your muddy boots are sliding on the tiles, your legs shaking with the effort - you’re clearly exhausted. Your hands are bound behind your back, leaving you with very little option. You push yourself back until the wall hits your shoulders, until you have nowhere else to go. 

Joel is assessing your form very calmly, a stark contrast with the frantic terror pinching your brows. You look young, younger than him for sure, body lean from years of privation (like everyone else now), and he’s sure you could be mistaken for a teenager from afar - maybe you were when the Outbreak happened 10 years ago, but he can see the way your eyes are sunk, the fine skin under them puffy from a decade-worth of bad sleep and dirty conscience. Nah, you may be a child of the Apocalypse, but you’re definitely old enough to realize you’re in a shitty situation. Something like pity tugs at his heart - or more like recognition, the fire in your gaze despite the fear washing over your features, the will to push through the tiredness, the need to fight until the very end, even cornered and tied up. A mirror handed to him of what he was like at your age.

Maybe you can be useful, you can help him escape, surely you know a trick or two, or you wouldn’t have been able to survive this long - he tries to convince himself that’s the reason why he helps you. Why he walks up to you, crouches in front of your scared face and orders you to turn around. He has to repeat himself because you don’t want to listen but he does his best to not sound as harsh as usual, and finally, you understand and offer him your bound hands. He tugs on the dirty scrap of fabric, unties the knot with skillful fingers. He takes hold of your wrists before you can even move your arms, and for a second you feel the icy stab of panic and treason in your throat. Since when do you trust strangers? 

“Easy there…” his warm voice rumbles in your back “Guess you’ve been like this for more than an hour, ‘gonna hurt if you move too fast.” he explains, while bringing slowly your hands in front of you. He’s right, you hiss a pained fuck when your shoulders protest at the change in position. He’s freaking close, his chest almost flush to your back, the rough skin of his palms still on your wrists. He suddenly lets go of you, gets up on his feet, and you turn on your knees to face him. He looks older than you, his temples already turning to gray. There is a gravity in his expression, like he stopped smiling 10 years ago and never did it again since - but still you catch a distant warmth in his soft brown eyes, behind his steely demeanor. His whole persona is a mix of hard and soft, exposed forearms showing off the chords of his muscles under a skin littered with scars, contrasting with the mundane patchy beard and the soft curls on his nape. He’s kinda handsome in his own way, even though he looks like someone who can do ugly things.

—

That’s the beginning of your cooperation. You had helped him, baiting the guard in pretending to be sick, and then he had used the makeshift knife to slit his throat, without so much as a second of hesitation. You remember the bright red blood spilling on the dirty tiles, staining the dried grout vermilion. It had been a while since you had seen a healthy human get killed up close. You had stood there, bile at the back of your tongue, ringing in your ears, until the firm command - move, come on - had made you join him. He had slashed his way out with too much ease, and had made you run for so long, you got sick the minute you finally stopped inside an abandoned house. You spat all the bile that had been bubbling in your guts, folded over the moldy kitchen sink. You had expected him to get disgusted and just leave you there to a very certain death, but he just took out a bottle of water from the backpack he stole during your escape and wordlessly handed it to you. He did not have to do that, he could have kept the precious resource for himself. You still wonder why - it wasn’t out of selflessness, definitely not out of kindness. You guessed he needed someone to stay awake and keep watch so he could sleep a little. Useful - you were useful. 

He brings you back to the QZ because that’s where you’ll be safe - safer at least. Shielded from the slavers and the raiders and the biters. Definitely not from the corrupt FEDRA guards, the local traffickers, the ruthless fireflies - and really, any individual ready to take advantage showing how thin the veneer of civilization truly was in the first place.

You stay in his small apartment because you have nowhere else to go. Even after you start working and earning your part. At first, he slept on the couch so you could have the bed. But one day, after a gruesome double-shift, he comes back home so exhausted he just crashes on the mattress without realizing you’re already there. It’s not the first time you sleep next to him. You had to during the trek back to the QZ. Only way to keep warm. It was utilitarian, nothing else. Still, it meant you trusted him enough to close your eyes in his presence. You still do. 

When you wake up the next morning, you feel him pressed against your back. Either him or you had sought the other’s warmth during the night. You have to admit you slept pretty well. You’re usually freezing and he’s just… warm. A solid wall radiating heat behind you. His slow breathing is keeping at bay the usual rush of anxiety you get when you wake up every day to discover this too long nightmare is indeed reality. You guess you had to have a similar effect on him because dawn is already lighting the room with its dull glow and he’s not awake yet. 

That’s the beginning of another level of your relationship - you don’t want to give a name to whatever strange alliance is going on between you. Still, night after night, he keeps going back, and you let him, welcome him silently in your bed (actually it’s his). You should be scared, he’s but a man, and if he was any other man, you would know that he’d been expecting something from you. Expecting you to offer your naked skin and your warm body in exchange for his protection. But it never comes. Joel seems very content in being able to lay there on his mattress and share his warmth with you. You can even see how he glares darkly at that FEDRA guard who keeps talking to you for any reason possible. How he makes sure you’re home as soon as the sun sets. 

And then, one day, you’re on his sofa sharing some whisky - the nice one, the real one, a 20-year old bottle he traded - and it says a lot he’s even sharing it with you in the first place. Joel is in a good mood, he cracks a couple awful dad jokes, and you laugh, so hard tears leak on your cheeks. He doesn’t think, just swipes them with his thumb, calloused pad of his finger on the sensitive skin just under your lashes. He lingers there, looks at you with hooded eyes and you know you’re royally fucked. He looks so good, the warm light of sunset on his tanned skin, his hair mussed, making him look a bit younger. It makes you forget he’s almost two decades older - but what does that even mean today? Life - death - is no longer this linear thing, and there is no one left to scold you about your partner’s choice. Nobody cares anymore. Yet he cared for you. So you decide to indulge in this desire that has been brewing in your chest since the moment he untied you in that damned icy cell. 

He’s kind of a jerk with it, lets you do all the work. Maybe he’s just too scared you would feel forced to accept what he wants to offer. But you soldier on, you kiss him with all the fervor of your youth, climb on his lap, and keep licking his tongue until he finally dares to take charge. Joel tastes like the bourbon discarded on the floor - sweet and rich, smoked spice and the desperate furor of someone whose will to live only surpasses his devastating grief by a short inch. 

You sigh in his mouth, the relief provided by his touch welcome but not enough to quench the pent-up thirst you’ve been harboring for years now. He must feel it because when your slightly shaking fingers are hastily working the buttons of his shirt open, then diving straight to the fly of his jeans, he stops you.

“Wait”, he rasps, a hint of worry mixed in the molasses of his voice, “please tell me you have done this before”.  

“Yeah -yes, yes… just -it’s been a long time. Like, not since the ‘break…”

“Fuck.” he answers, head lolling backward against the sofa, and you’re sure you screwed up. No way he’s gonna want to do it with an almost virgin. For your defense, after a few experiments with your then-boyfriend from before the apocalypse, your possibilities were quite limited. You focused more on staying alive than romance. More on avoiding men than courting them. Years went by and no one came who you could trust enough. Until him. 

“Please, Joel” you kiss his cheek, his neck. “I want to feel good just for a bit”, you beg him, because the thought of him leaving you like this makes you wanna die of shame. 

You feel more than you hear him growl, the rumble of his chest making you shiver against him. He grounds his hands on your waist, presses the rough pads of his fingers into your supple and warm flesh. 

“Remove your clothes”, he finally commands. Your jeans and sweater are thrown on the ground without second thought. You’re naked while he just pushed his pants low enough to free his already leaking cock. 

“Joel…” your gasp dies in your throat when he crashes his mouth on yours again. He’s… big. You haven’t seen a lot of cocks in your life, but you’re pretty sure he definitely has bragging rights. He feels burning hot and surprisingly soft in your palm, pulsing in time with the frantic beating of your heart. 

He’s not especially careful when he parts your folds, long fingers pressing against your clit in a couple of crude circles before pushing inside you. The intrusion is nothing like you remember. It burns in an addictive way, and when he crooks his index toward your belly, and presses his thumb on your clit, you let out a whimper that makes him groan in response. His other hand has threaded itself in your hair, and he uses it to hold your head steady. 

“Eyes on me sweetheart” he urges. His lips are parted, the glint of his canines echoing the predatory gaze he’s pining you with. It’s been barely a minute and you’re already panting, feeling your orgasm build up at an impressive pace. You muffle your cries against your palm, unwilling for anyone on the other side of those cardboard thin walls to hear you.

“Come on, don't get shy now.” he rasps, voice thick in his throat. “Wanna hear you when I make you come”. Reluctantly, you remove your hand, finding purchase on his shoulders where you sink your short nails, trying to contain the molten wave of pleasure washing over you. The orgasm is brutal, your whole body seizing as Joel keeps on grounding his thumb cruelly hard on your clit, the fist on your hair tightening even more as he praises you throughout. It hurts so good you don’t remember sex could even be like this. 

You’re barely down from your high that Joel manhandles your pliant body until you’re under him on the couch. He’s still clothed, his jeans scratchy against your bare legs. His fingers follow an ugly scar on your flank - you got this one pretty early after the end of the world, it’s still itchy sometimes, you don’t really want to talk about it - and you hear him mumble how pretty you are, more for himself than for you. “Joel” you plead again and he snaps out of his haze, voracious glint back in his eyes. 

“I’m here, I’m here” he repeats, guiding his cock against your wet slit. He stops just a second to ask if you still want this, and you beg his name again. Finally, he pushes inside you, fills you in one slow motion. You can’t stop the litany of fuck escaping your mouth. It feels like he’s splitting you in two, molding your flesh to him. The stretch is a lot, makes your brain short-circuit. “Breathe” he instructs, his fingers - still wet from your desire - finds your cheek in a soothing gesture. “Stay with me”, he adds, voice low against the dainty shell of your ear. 

Joel fucks you slow, way more gentle than when he had his fingers buried in your cunt a few minutes before. He pushes your knees apart, hikes your legs high on his waist, almost folding you in half. It still hurts a little, but the pressure feels good, even better when one of his hands finds your clit again. Your soft moans fill the air between you, warm with whiskey and need. One particularly powerful snap of his hips and his cock touches something bright inside of you, awakening feelings you had even forgotten about. He keeps rubbing the delicate and swollen flesh just above there you’re joined, and you already know your second orgasm is not far. 

You seek his mouth, demanding for him to kiss you, as you bury your hand in his soft curls, where early swirls of gray ring the end of his youth. A sudden burst of need and yearning and almost sadness shots through you. It’s not only about being intimate with someone after all those years. It’s the emotion of trusting another human enough to bare your body, to let them come close, to show vulnerability - not in the form of the pain and the gruesome you’re both accustomed to - no, the real vulnerability that lies in the will to share something good, something mundane and beautiful, sinful and sacred. The illusion that everything will be alright, that, in the next seconds, you both have nothing else to care about than your common pleasure, than the warmth of the other’s skin, than this silly and dangerous thrill you’re willing to offer. You’re opening your legs as much as your heart, and you know it’s going to wreck you in the most stunning way. 

You come with a whisper of his name against his lips, like a secret prayer, an oath that in this instant he is all you believe in. He follows you in your bliss just after, considerate enough to pull out and cum on your belly. You forgot how messy all this can be. But the sight of his cum on your skin is also a bleak reminder of reality - you better not get pregnant now. He must sense your distress because he cups your cheeks gently, kisses you again. 

“Stay with me” he says, echoing his words from a few minutes earlier, when you were stuffed full with him. Except this time, you think you understand what he means - what he truly means. 

You think you feel him smile in the kiss.

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

The Sacrifice Douma x reader pt 1

Pairing: Douma x reader

Warnings: Mentions of injury

Summary: You wake up to your new surroundings

****************************************************Don’t forget to read the prologue!

“She’s been sleeping all day, you sure she’s ok..?”

Hush Yuta, stop asking me that and go finish your chores”

“But-”

“No buts! Go now”

“Ugh fine”

“*sigh* honestly that boy will be the death of me..”

“Mmm”

“Oh are you awake?”

Huh? Slowly your senses regain. You twitch your fingers and they smooth over something soft like cotton. You smell something…lavender oils and for the first time in many many years you’re…comfortable?

You start to piece together your wits and then it strikes all at once like a bolt of lightning.

Your master, the freezing rain, the pain, the demo-

You shoot up from your laying position, your body protests instantly but you push that aside.

You take in your surroundings, 4 walls, a simple clothing chest, a screen divider, a smoking oil diffusing pot, and a woman sat folding linens. Her chocolate brown eyes trained on you. A look of shock and worry on her features.

“Oh you should be careful, you’re still recovering” the woman shoved the basket aside and rushed to assist you although out of habit you flinched at her touch.

“You had some nasty cuts, some required stitches, we wouldn’t want those to tear open”

“W-who are you?” I asked warily. I’m not one to shy away help, considering getting any up till this point was a rare occurrence, but considering my situation I couldn’t help but be cautious.

“My name is Hanako, I’m a maid, Lord Douma asked me to watch over you.”

“Lord Douma?” You had a feeling you already knew who that was.

“He’s the founder of the Eternal Paradise cult. Although we don’t really refer to it as a cult” she lets out a little laugh.

She’s so carefree… maybe she’s a demon too? But she doesn’t really look like one.. not that I’ve seen many demons in my life. But she doesn’t feel threatening.

“Everyone here is apart of it, we are all striving for eternal paradise.”

“Everyone?”

“Oh yes, there are many people who follow lord Douma. You’ll get a chance to get acquainted with them soon. But for now, you must eat and rest a bit, Lord Douma will be expecting you soon.”

“W-why… what will he do to me..” you dread the answer but ask anyway.

The maid tilts her head a bit. “There’s no need to worry, Lord Douma is fair and just. As long as you don’t step out of line, you have no reason to fear”.

No need to fear? Just what is going on?! I’m about to blurt out something akin to, “I’m a sacrifice why would I not be afraid, also he’s a demon?” But I shut my mouth. Better to understand the situation more than say things to people I don’t even know.

You simply nod.

“I’ll go get you something to eat alright? You just rest until then ok?” The woman smiles gently and leaves sliding the door shut. She was older than me but not by that much.

You sighed, against your body’s pleading you didn’t lay down. Maybe this was a sick game where you were lulled into a sense of comfort and as soon as you let down your guard the demon would swoop in and devour you.

Or maybe he was plumping you up like a chicken before having you.

Oh this was torture.

Several minutes later Hanako re enters the room balancing a tray.

“Here you are, drink this soup slowly alright? You wouldn’t want to make yourself sick dear.”

You eye the soup in front of you carefully. It smells divine, with clumps of vegetables floating around and pieces of what looks like chicken. You can’t remember the last time you were allowed meat.

“Can I really eat this?” You murmur to myself.

Hanako urges you on. It could be poisoned but then again why would the demon poison you if he wanted to eat you afterwards.

Slowly you lift the spoon, dipping it into the creamy liquid and back up to your parched lips.

You’re not exaggerating when you say this was the best soup you’ve ever had.

Your fears quickly push aside in favor of shoveling more delicious soup into your mouth.

Within minutes the bowl is empty and you feel the rumbling in your stomach pleasantly cease.

“It’s getting late, we should get you ready to see Lord Douma before the sunsets.” The woman removes the tray from your lap and helps you stand. You wobble a bit but steady with her help.

She leads you behind the screen where a tub with steaming water is emitting the most sweet floral fragrance.

She helps you into the tub then goes to grab something from another room.

You sigh out of pure relaxation. Maybe this is the demons mercy before killing you. Or maybe he wants you clean before he has his meal. Either way you can’t help but enjoy how relaxed you feel. The aches are slowly receding.

Soon Hanako returns and helps wash your hair. The clear water soon became murky with all the dirt and grime from you.

After making sure you were all clean she helped you out and brought forth a gorgeous kimono.

Pearly colored material with beautiful vibrant flowers on it. You noticed that they were the same color as your eyes.

She helped you in it and clasped her hands together. “My my what a gem you are, under all that muck who knew such a beauty was there”

“Beauty?” I scoffed at her joke. Alright this pre eating pampering act was really something.

“It’s a shame that horrible man bruised up your face like that, the healer was able to make most of them disappear although the biggest one on your cheek was stubborn. He said it would heal within a week or two however.”

“Now let me just fix up your hair and you’ll be all set” her gentle hands ran through my locks slowly and removed all the knots.

She squeezed something thick onto her palms, rubbed them together then ran it through my hair. It smelled like jasmine and when she pulled the mirror I couldn’t believe it.

I looked… so so… clean and put together. No mud or dirt like always and my hair looked soft like silk. Even with the big bruise marring half my face I looked better than I ever have.

I never really got to take baths before. Sometimes I had time to quickly wash in the stream but not more than a quick few minutes because there were many pervs in the household.

“Alright dear let’s not keep Lord Douma waiting any longer” you nodded and she gave you her arm for support.

Patiently she led you out the door, you looked around, nothing looked out of the ordinary. It looked like a normal nobles residence with lined up rooms and beautiful garden work here and there.

Sigh you were so tired and confused and tired of being confused ughh.

You stopped in front of big wooden doors, they were carved brilliantly with lotus flowers.

Hanako knocked twice. “Lord Douma, I’ve brought the girl..” only a moment of silence before the melodic voice rang out again.

“You may enter”

*gulp* here goes nothing..

Hanako pushed the doors open then helped you inside.

You squinted to make out the figure sitting by the candle light.

“Welcome little flower.”

“I’ve been so eager to meet you..”

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

Please lemme know what you guys thought:)

Previous next

[fbfh]

Pleaseee I just need a story where the reader is from our modern world and tedros falls inlove with them

anon my darling my dearest my beloved you don't understand how much of my brain space this occupies. bc when you first show up in that fucking field of pink and red flowers you're probably in jean shorts and a crop top. maybe a flannel. you walk confused through the gilded halls, getting as many pictures as you can of the ornate archetecture and glasswork, worrying you won't believe it yourself if you don't have proof. you have no idea how you somehow ended up in a castle that looks straight out of the royaltycore side of pinterest you've stumbled across a few times, and you have no idea where you're even supposed to be going. then the fairies catch up to you. they take one look at you, then start tugging at your hair and clothes, trying to drag you somewhere to get you cleaned up before orientation, so you do the natural thing: start filming them on your phone and haul ass out of there. you get even more lost through the mazes of halls and staircases and breezeways as the fairies keep chasing you. you lose them for a minute, and unbeknownst to you, standing at the hallway is noneother than Tedros. you catch his attention for many reasons, your blinding beauty, the rush of energy you cary with you that seems to sweep him along with it, the lack of restraining your personality for the sake of etiquette. most notably, is that to him you're barely dressed. usually you'd be wearing bloomers and a corset with a dress that's at least tea length over it, but here you are, legs out in front of god and everybody. you don't seem the least bit phased by this either, but before he can snap out of the trance you've put him in, Professor Dovey is sweeping down the halls toward you.

"oh my..." she says, taking in your appearance. she turns to the fairies. "yes, I think you're right. this time does certainly call for an exception."

amid your miriad of protests, she takes your arm, gliding you through the halls with her.

"hush child, I'll explain everything." she respons warmly, bringing you to the doors of the groom room. she sits you down, and with a flick of her now glowing finger, everything in the room springs to life. soft smelling perfume sprays you, your nails are maincured, your skin is moisturized, your hair is done up all pretty. before you know it, racks of dresses are wheeling themselves out, spinning around you as Professor Dovey skims through them, picking one out for you as she explains everything. you don't really get a grasp on the situation until you're sitting on blue and glass pews surrounded by dozens of girls in literal ballgowns. you're wearing a ballgown too, the kind of thing you see used as clickbait on wish or aliexpress, but this is real and it fits you like a glove. you touch the side of your bodice, where you managed to shove your phone when Professor Dovey wasn't looking. you can't bring yourself to focus on anything as all of this sets in, but when a rowdy group of boys burst in and begin sword fighting, you're pulled out of your daze. one of them gets grazed on the arm, and it strikes you that these are actual swords. they're not dulled movie props or plastic kids toys or diy cosplay accessories, these are literal metal blades getting tossed around like it's no big deal. it's probably not a big deal to them, you realize, they clearly know what they're doing. as you lose yourself in thought, beginning to accept the situation you've found yourself in, Tedros fights through the crowd of boys in front of him more determined than ever. you caught his eye, and he'll stop at nothing to stand before you and throw you his rose. he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since that moment he saw you in the halls, full of more life and vigor and passion than any girls he's ever met. he's dying to know you, yearning to know everything about you, absolutley desperate to sweep you off your feet. he has his sights set on you, and with a love this strong, he's sure you must feel the same. he wonders if this could be love at first sight. you're pulled from your thoughts as the girl next to you, blonde and wearing a purple dress, taps your shoulder.

"I believe that was intended for me." she states with a condescending smile, motioning to the rose that somehow appeared in your lap. your eyes flare, her attitude not slipping past you for a second. Tedros is about to protest, tell Beatrix that his rose landed in the right hands, when you scoff, clearly surprised and a little offended at her tone. Beatrix expects you to hand her the rose, and maybe apologize to her for being in the way. instead you look straight at her, and speak so informally she thinks she must have imagined it.

"okay, dickwad." you state, not an ounce of shyness to be found. you scoff, leaning towards Tedros. "I guess someone hasn't had her morning coffee..."

Beatrix's mouth hangs open in shock as a hush falls from the nearby girls who'd heard the exchange. Beatrix knows that Tedros is going to defend her honor, insisting you apologize and insuring you never speak to her in that way again. instead he lets out the loudest, most sincere, organic laugh any of them have ever heard. You chuckle along with him, not sure what was so funny about that exchange, but you can tell there's no malice or insincerity to him.

"You are just full of surprises..." he muses, once he's caught his breath. he takes your hand in his, and you watch with wide eyes as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, before falling in line with the rest of the boys, more sure than ever that you're his true love. he just kissed the back of your hand. he literally just kissed the back of your hand. the only time you've ever actually seen that is in the occasional straight to hulu period drama, and you never expected to experience that in real life. you also didn't expect it to fill you with butterflies. you and Tedros both find yourselves stealing glances for all of orientation while Beatrix stares daggers at you the whole time. you're sure this school will be interesting to say the least.

[captainshadowgirllostfan]

So a friend shared this "Letter from an IDF Soldier" post, and it's the most sickening piece of shit I've ever read. The amount of projection is quite something.

I'm not gonna lie. Yes Tel Aviv has been under attack.

But that was right AFTER Israel has bombed and razed Gaza to the ground with Air strikes and currently it's bombarding the city of Khan Younis I believe and is trying to destroy it's hospital.

Do I care about the Israeli citizens who've for the last few weeks been endorsing and participating in a genocide? Maybe the ones who see genocide for what it is. Maybe for the hostages who understand that the only way to get their loved ones back is through a permanent ceasefire which we have seen through the temporary ceasefire, this has been the only way Israel has gotten it's hostages back

Recently, Hamas has notified Israel for a permanent ceasefire again in order to get back all of it's hostages in return for Israel to stop harming Palestinians and the 10,000 hostages it keeps without trial. Netanyahu has said no.

Netanyahu has also stiked on foreign lands such as Lebanon in order to assassinate leaders. It has been bombing Lebanon and Syria and has been trying to get Iran in war too because Hezbollah is it's biggest threat.

And while it's been killing 30,000 innocent civilians, 10,000 of them being children, while it's been bombing hospitals, schools, refugee shelters, UN shelters, labeling UN workers as "terrorists", killing 108 journalists and So many UN aid workers...how many Hamas senior members has it killed? How many?

Zero.

Fucking zero.

So don't delude yourself in thinking this is a war.

It's a genocide.

It's a genocide Israel is committing on Palestinians

Israel is not a victim. It is the perpetrator. The oppressor.

The real terrorist.

So here are some infographics I have on my phone that is outdated as no doubt the number as risen since currently Israel is attacking Khan Younis and claiming once again that Hamas is in a hospital while pointing at tunnels and trying to label hospital workers as terrorists

And this was back in Day 85 of Genocide

Now we're at Day 108 I believe.

Please keep Palestine in your thoughts and continue to call your senators and representatives for a permanent ceasefire and to defund Israel.

This is how much Israel has spend on this "war"

And this was a while back

I believe Biden already sent a 14 billion military package deal to Israel

And what's more, we have our own troops on there as well.

So yeah this is very much our war, a war that has nothing to do with us and none of us want to be a part of.

So if you care about our troops then put all the anti war energy of the Vietnam War era x 200 and stop. This. Fucking. Genocide.

Strike

Call your reps and senators

Email them

Protest

Write

Do something

But don't ever be quilted for being a pacifist and for being anti-war.

Currently this "war" is destroying our environment and not just through the destruction of human life but the destruction of trees and animal life surrounding Gaza.

This madness has got to end!

#ceasefirenow!

[monstrous-femme]

I've been thinking a lot about the US left's need to get better organized. As general strikes for Palestine enter the zeitgeist, I am seeing a lot of muddled messaging, and it's made me realize that one of the things we need to get on the same page about is how a strike functions.

There are two primary types of pressure a strike exerts, and we can exert these pressures in many ways in addition to work stoppages.

The first is financial. Most work stoppages you hear about are operating on this level-- cost the company enough money that they'd rather meet your demand than keep hemorrhaging. This is most effective when the company in question is directly involved in the practices you want to stop. In this case, we're talking companies that have some level of investment with Israel. For example, if you work for any company like Boeing, which has sped the delivery of bombs to the Israeli government, causing financial disruptions can make it cost more to be invested in Israel than it would be to divest.

If your job is not invested in Israel, a work stoppage will not cause financial pressure. But again, this doesn't mean there's nothing you can do! Maybe you're an office manager and you routinely order HP products for people who work in the office. Since HP is on the BDS list, this could be a time to look into other brands and see what products you can purchase elsewhere.

It's easy to think that if a work stoppage won't do anything at your specific workplace, that they're nothing you can do. But if you think in the lens of "what will create financial pressure," you will likely find more options. Get creative. Look at the BDS list. Think about who we're pressuring, and how to divert money away from them.

The second point of pressure is public opinion. In terms of work stoppages, this would be closest to a teacher's strike. Teacher's strike's don't cost school districts money. What they do is cause frustrated parents who have nowhere to send their kids. The goal is to direct that frustration to the school district, creating pressure to do what it takes to reopen schools.

If several stores on the same block are able to shut down with a sign on the window that says "closed in support of Palestine," this is an example of this sort of pressure. People can't go about their daily business, and the goal is to direct the frustration they experience towards the occupation and our own government's role.

If you can't shut things down, there are other actions that create the pressure of public opinion. This is where we've been asked to elevate Palestinian voices. It's also where you may see protests that shut down a street, a freeway, a transit station. The goal is to cause such disruption that regular operations can't function, and that people whose lives have been disrupted join the call for ceasefire.

I encourage everyone, not just in this week but moving forward, to think about the framework of pressure tactics. If we understand why an action matters, we can find alternate ways to participate if what's being suggested won't work for us or won't cause the necessary pressure.

Lastly, I want to say that there are likely many people in your community who have participated in organizing work that is beyond the scope of what I have mentioned here, and that know more than I do. Building relationships and benefiting from shared knowledge are necessary in the work that needs to be done. This week's call for strike will not be the last. What can we do today to get more organized for what comes next?

[izzybella1807]

Diaries: A Shift in Realms | Chapter 1

Fault in the Realm

Aphmau's P.O.V

"Where exactly are we?" I asked as we found ourselves in a new dimension. "This place is giving me a very ominous feeling," Katelyn said as she looked around.

She was right, this place was also giving me an ominous feeling. I looked around and saw a white and lilac sort of castle standing infront of us. Although, it was not a castle, it was more like a chapel.

"Wherever we are, Zane and Garroth have to be around here somewhere," Laurance said as Grace nodded in agreement.

Emmalyn and Kenmur came rushing over to us. "WE NEED TO GET TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW!" Emmalyn cried.

"What?" Grace asked, confused. "THIS IS THE PLACE...THIS IS HER PLACE! THIS IS LADY IRENE'S DIMENSION! WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW!!" Emmalyn cried.

Kenmur put his hand on Emmalyn's shoulder. "Emmalyn, calm down... I thought you'd be ecstatic to be in such an honorable place?" He said, trying to calm her down.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! EVERY MINUTE THAT PASSES HERE MEANS A YEAR IS GOING BY IN OUR TIME! IF WE'RE HERE FOR TOO LONG, EVERYONE WE KNOW AND LOVE MIGHT BE 100 YEARS OLD OR EVEN WORSE, THEY MIGHT BE DEAD! IF WE DON'T GET OUT OF HERE NOW, OUR WORLD WILL BE GONE!" Emmalyn cried.

Grace's face changed as she heard that. "Dante..." she said softly, looking at the floor as Laurance put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but..this is our one chance to stop Zane. I'm afraid this opportunity is too good to pass up," the stranger protested.

"I agree with him. We need to take this time to stop Zane here and now," Laurance agreed.

"Then that means...if we're able to stop him here or even allow 100 years to pass...we can better the world either way. I'm in," Grace said.

"YOU'RE ALL CRAZY! IF ZANE GETS IRENE'S RELIC HE'LL DO MORE THAN JUST STAY HERE! KENMUR WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW!" Emmalyn cried as she ran off trying to find a way out.

"EMMALYN! WAIT UP! DON'T DO ANYTHING RASH!" Kenmur called after her.

"Zane is inside..if what Emmalyn said is true, then he wants Irene's power. Are you all ready to face him and Garroth?" the stranger asked.

"We have to do this," Laurance said, bravely. "I agree with you Laurance. We have to do this," I agreed. The other nodded their heads in agreement. "Then let's go," Grace said leading the way.

★★★

"Finally! It's mine! Irene's relic. With this added to my strength I will-" Zane began as we walked inside the chapel. He stopped when he had noticed that Irene's relic had disappeared and reappeared in from of me.

"What the!??" I cried as I absorbed the relic. "Th-This is Impossible! You can't be her! No. I have worked too hard and killed too many useless plans for this to happen to me now. That relic will be mine even if I have to rip you apart to get it's power," Zane said as he turned into his jury form.

He laughed evilly. "Ripping you apart is something I've wanted to do for so long. It's a shame you have to die really. We could have been something special together," Zane smirked.

Lillian and Garroth began to run down the steps at us but Laurance and Katelyn stopped them in their tracks. That's when I noticed a girl with brown hair and fox ears and tail, sitting against the wall behind Zane. She looked as if she was tied up and unable to move.

Zane jumped off the top of the steps and swing his sword at me but Grace deflected it. She tried to stab Zane but he grabbed her arm and threw her against the wall.

As Zane was going to strike again, the stranger clashed swords with him, holding it steady.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laurance's P.O.V

"Garroth, why are you doing this?" I cried as I clashed swords with my best friend. "Zane is the only one who cares for me and is a true brother," Garroth yelled.

I couldn't believe him, it wasn't him though. Zane must have mind controlled him somehow because that wasn't the Garroth's I knew.

"Are you even listening to yourself right now? He tried to hurt the people you are sworn to protect," I cried.

"How can I protect when my heart was ripped to shreds by the woman I love, and the so called brother I trusted?!" Garroth yelled back at me.

"Garroth, Snap out of it! If this is about Aphmau and love, then why?" I cried before taking a breath. "Garroth, I understand that you love Aphmau, however you have to be willing to accept the fact that she might not return those feelings. Don't you see how corrupt this has made you become?"

Garroth growled and tried to swing at me but I stopped him.

"You are not defined by the person you love. You are Garroth, protector of the innocent, sworn to care and love for those in need. When did the Garroth I know allow himself to be consumed by one person's love? You cannot be jealous of every man she meets forever. It'll just drive her away from you. You have to let go before you can truly be Garroth. Garroth worthy to protect others," I explained to him.

I looked over to the others. Katelyn had clashed swords with Lillian, Grace was lying unconscious against the wall and Zane had knocked the stranger to the floor when he had blocked his shot.

"What a pathetic fool. I should have killed you along with your entire village that day. Now...for you," Zane said, about to kill Aphmau when Garroth stepped in, clashing swords with Zane.

"I was blinded by your eyes," Garroth growled. "Oh look, you've come to senses. Such a shame. I was enjoying our quality time together. Now I have to kill you too," Zane said as a portal opened behind them.

A girl with white hair and elf ears walked out and pointed for us to go through. I didn't know if we could trust her, but we had to take our chances.

"Quickly, Let's get out of here now!" I cried as I picked Grace up and headed for the portal with her. The stranger, Katelyn, Emmalyn and Kenmur went through but I noticed Aphmau, still on the ground behind Garroth.

I quickly lay Grace down against the side of the portal and rushed over to Aphmau. "Go, I'll hold him off," Garroth said still clashing swords with Zane.

"Garroth?" Aphmau said, worriedly. "This is my fault. I should have known better. Run Aphmau. Now Go. be with someone who deserves you," Garroth cried.

"Garroth, No! I can't leave you behind!" Aphmau's cried. "I said go," Garroth yelled. I helped Aphmau up off the ground and we both ran to the portal. I picked Grace up and carried her through the portal.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Third person P.O.V

Before the portal closed, the power of the portal accidentally pulled the girl with fox ears and a tail back to Phoenix Drop with the others.

"Now... let's end this Zane," Garroth said as the fight began.

[clumsiestgiantess]

I'm not sure how this works, but for the 100 prompts thing, I'd love to see what you make of #86

Got to the prompt from this list! Now I’m free for another one. If anyone wants to send a prompt, it’ll be next in line!

["If you do that, you'll be small forever!"]

It’s entirely possible that aliens exist — that somewhere out there, far far away from our own planet is another one we might not know or understand, with life we never thought possible.  But not here, not now, not right outside our shit rental house in the middle of nowhere.  I’d got up to get a drink in the dead of a cloudy night.  Not wanting to wake up my bunkmate, I kept the lights off as I made my way to the kitchen.  I could barely make out walls in front of me, and ended up colliding with a chair.  “Sonofa-”  Suddenly, I could see.  For one blinding moment, everything was lit up as though it were day, then faded back to darkness in a strange softening afterglow.  

A lightning strike.  I listened intently, counting how many seconds would pass between the flash and the roar of thunder soon to follow.  One one-thousand, two one-thousand… Twenty.. one.. thousand?  I stopped at twenty, glancing confusedly around.  “Where’s the thunder?” I whispered, stepping over to the window.  Nothing but darkness greeted me.  The single porch light illuminated one small part of the front yard, but that was all. 

Except.. I could have sworn there wasn’t a cactus there before… they were all in the backyard.  I squinted at it, adrenaline tensing in my muscles.  The shape of it looked wrong somehow.  As I stared, it suddenly felt like I was the one being watched.  In one fluid movement, the whole silhouette pivoted towards me.

Shrieking, I stumbled backwards away from the window, scrambling over the floor as its shadow descended over the glass, covered by blinds.  A semi-humanoid head cocked to the side. Two limbs pressed up against the glass, peering over the bottom of the window.  I clasped a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out in fear.  “Hey, what the hell are you screaming for out here?  It’s the middle of the night!  Did another scorpion-”  Then he finally noticed me nearly pissing myself on the floor.  He’s known me long enough to know that I don’t get this scared that easily.  “Gavin!  There’s.. There’s something outside, dude!  I- I don’t-”

It was gone.  The thing in the window was gone.  I got up off the floor in an instant.  “What was it?  One of those wild boars or something?” he asked.  “No, man!  It- It looked like a fucked up person!”  Gavin’s eyebrows scrunched together in disbelief.  “I think you need to go back to sleep.”  I was about to protest, but the doorbell rang.  The cheery chime sent chills down my arms and back.  “Don’t.. answer it.”  Gavin crept up to the door.  “What the hell did I just say?!” I whisper-yelled at him.  “I’m just looking through the peephole, calm down,” he replied, waving a hand distractedly in my direction.

Slowly, he put his face up to the door, then laughed uneasily.  “There’s no one there.”  Another ring from the doorbell said otherwise.  Both of us stared at eachother as it rang again.  “Alright, that’s it.”  He threw open the door.  “What the hell is-”  A blast of cooled light hit him square in the chest, instantly zapping him out of existence — nothing left behind but empty space. 

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!”  I tore down the hall and towards the back door.  Blasts of color spiraled and sparked as they hit the walls around me.  Just as I reached for the door handle, another shadow moved outside.  Ok, well fuck that.  Dodging away from my escape, I threw myself into a closet and yanked the door shut, holding it closed with shaking hands.

Desperately, I tried to quiet my heavy breaths which echoed around the small space.  I again pressed a hand to my mouth at the sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor right outside.  Breaking the deafening silence, the sound of clicking bounced off the walls.  Creak click-click-click.  Creak click-click.  Closer, closer, then slowly fading away.  I was content to stay in there the rest of my life, however short it might be, but my plans were interrupted by Gavin’s voice, faint through the door.  “What the hell did you do to me?!  Let me out of here!”  It was so.. frightened.  I’d never heard him speak like that. However, at the very least, he was somehow alive.

I slid the closet door open hesitantly and peered into the hall.  Nothing weird in sight.  Sticking to the baseboards so I wouldn’t set off the creaking floor, I made my way towards the sound of his voice.  It was terrifying and agonizingly slow work, but I made it around the corner to the edge of the kitchen and the doorway where I last saw him.  Just barely sliding my head around the corner, I caught a glimpse at what the freaky intruders looked like.  One of them stood upright like what I’d seen.  It had rough greyish skin and long lanky legs with two calves and feet that were separated at the knee.  It had a small thin tail and two sets of forearms — one that looked like normal arms, and a thinner set that was tucked closely around its body.  Then there was its face, which was the most horrific thing about it.  Large eyes with disk-like pupils googled on its head with little bony pieces sticking out of its jaw.  Two small arms stretched from the sides of its mouth, hanging down by its chin.

I was so horrifyingly mesmerized by the creature’s appearance, not to mention the second one, which was creeping over the ground on all fours, that I didn’t even think to look for Gavin until I heard him yell again.  “Please!”  His voice was desperate, “Can you at least change me back?”  That’s when I saw him.  A cage about the size of a small moving box sat on the living room table between the two aliens.  Inside of it stood Gavin, gripping the bars of his incredibly small prison.  He couldn’t have been more than a foot tall.  “Gavin?”  

Both aliens’ heads snapped around to face me.  “Shit!”  I ran back down the hall again.  The door was open wide this time and I ran through it at top speed, scrambling into a few scrubby bushes at the last second.  The door banged against the house as it was thrown open, one of the aliens stepping out, clicking quickly as it scanned the ground.  

Thankfully, a shred of luck was still on my side.  A startled snake twined across the yard, likely kicked up by my running.  The alien hissed at it, though it was louder than a hiss, more like an incredibly soft shriek.  A moment later, it stepped back inside.  I let out a relieved breath of air.  I was so tempted to run; I knew what direction the closest town was, it would take me a bit to get there, but I-  HOLY HELL.  A spaceship or.. something hovered in the sky, nearly as long as three houses.  Another reason to get out of there.  However, I just couldn’t leave Gavin.  

There was still one more option.  In the house on the second floor was a room filled with taxidermied animals.  Gavin and I had put funny things on them and left it at that, but I distinctly remember a few hunting rifles hanging on the wall.  Edging around the snake still coiled in the yard, I crept to the side of the house where a lattice frame of dead plants sat leaning against the wall.  With careful caution to make as little sound as possible, I edged up the frame to a window right above it.  If I remember correctly, the room I wanted would be right there.  

My heart pounded in my ears as I opened the window inch by inch, then hoisted myself up and inside.  I gasped and nearly yelled when I brushed a hand over fur.  Thankfully it was only a stuffed animal, well, part of one anyways.  The aliens must’ve searched up here.  Every creature in the place was torn apart.  I’m not sure if they just hate Earth creatures in general, or if they were confused by the lifelike taxidermy and tried to attack it.  Either way, the room was a mess.  I made my way across it on tiptoe.  A few feet from the guns, which were in fact on the wall above a ‘do not touch’ sign, a bloodcurdling scream filled the air.

Gavin?!  What are they doing to him?!  “Help!  Please!  No!  No, stop!  STOP!”  I fumbled with the gun, quickly checking if it was loaded.  It wasn’t.  The yelling stopped, and I could hear something pounding up the stairs.  “No, no, no, no, no, no, shit!  Fuck!  Where’s the ammo!?”  Another strange hiss-shriek sounded to my right, and I whirled around, finding an alien in the doorway.  It smiled at me — or maybe it was just baring its teeth — but either way, it looked horrifying.  The thing stalked into the room, hunching down to four legs.  I stood where I was, mortified.  It stalked closer.. closer.. then lunged.  Lifting the rifle, I clocked it over the head as it came down.  I screamed and thrashed as its body crashed into me, sure I was being attacked.  However, the thing lay limply on the floor.

I took a brief moment to process things, then scrambled out from beneath the unconscious creature. I tore through nearby shelves to find a box of bullets.  Relief flooded through me when I at last found it, tucked away in the back of one of the drawers.  I’d just tore into the packaging when another yell from downstairs made me flinch.  “Owen!  It’s coming upstairs!”  I worked faster, clicking two shells into the barrels just as the second alien walked through.  It froze, taking a double-take at the limp creature beside me.  A wild shriek nearly deafened me as it recognized what I’d done.  I could see all the gleaming serrated teeth in its awful armed mouth.  

It reached for a weapon, but I fired first.  It stumbled backwards, clutching its chest where I shot it, and fell to the ground.  I reloaded and fired at both creatures a few more times, just to be sure.  Purpleish-red blood pooled onto the floorboards. Finally, I sank to my knees, practically hysterical.  “I just shot two fucking aliens,” I whispered in shock.  My vision darkened, like the brightness had been turned down on the moon, then cleared a moment later as yelling from downstairs startled me.  “Owen?  O- Owen is that you?”  I raced down the flight of stairs nearly three at a time, shotgun in hand, though it had no bullets left.  Skidding on the wooden floor, I nearly fell on my face at the speed I was going, but I righted myself at the last second.  Spotting the cage, I slowed my advance and stepped cautiously closer, lowering my weapon to the floor.

“Holy shit…” I whispered, kneeling down in front of the little cage.  Gavin took a few steps backwards, unsure.  “Is that really you?”  He nodded uneasily, “Y- Yeah, I thought they shot me, but the weird gun thing did this to me instead.”  In awe, I opened the little door in front and reached inside.  He really was only the size of a ruler — a bit smaller, even.  “Dude?  Wh- What are you doing?” Gavin had backed all the way to the end of the cage, shying away from my outstretched hand.  I didn’t even know what I was doing.  Shaking off my stupor, I retreated back out of the metal trap.  “Sorry.  Umm.. step out of there for a second.”  He hesitated, craning his neck to look up at me.

“You ok?” I asked him cautiously, “It’s just me.  I’m not gonna hurt you.”  With a shaking breath, he stepped up to the opening, glancing around before sliding past the cage onto the coffee table.  “I’m.. I’m sorry, I-'' Gavin stuttered, unsure.  “It’s just so weird seeing everything like this.  They picked me up — stuffed me in here — so easily.”

“But I wouldn’t do that!” I cried, slightly hurt.  “I know,” he sighed, “Sorry, man.  I’m not saying that.  You wouldn’t take advantage of this kind of thing.”  Gavin stepped over to the table’s edge, peering up the staircase.  “What happened to the aliens?”  I glanced over, remembering the second alien had come close to shooting me.  “Oh!  Hang on!  I’ll be right back!”  As I raced upstairs, I couldn’t help but notice Gavin flinch at the pounding noise of my comparatively large footsteps on the stairs.  Slinking through the doorway, I searched the second corpse cautiously, but came away with the strange gun.

I was much slower on my return, not only because I was worried the gun might accidentally go off, but also because I didn’t want to alarm Gavin, whose eyes widened fearfully at the sight of the weapon in my hands.  “Do you think we can use this thing to get you back?”  He calmed slightly, “If you can figure out how it works, sure.  Just.. maybe test it on something else first.”  I nodded, searching it over.  The thing only had one button or switch that I could find, though — the trigger.  I fired it once just to test it.  Nope.  Still makes things small.  In the middle of fidgeting with it, that blinding flash lit up the sky.  Raw fear seized my chest.  I was two steps towards the closet where I hid, when I remembered Gavin.  Turning to the living room, I found him trying to climb down from the top of the table.

Rushing over, I swiftly scooped him up, tucked him under my arm, and ran off, locking myself into the closet.  We went extremely still as clicking started up inside the house again.  Footsteps creaked — more than the first two sets.  A strange call revertibrated through the walls.  The thundering ruckus of several aliens climbing the stairs reached us, and I realized they must’ve found the bodies.  Gavin struggled just slightly under my arm and I readjusted it, giving him a bit more room.

From then on, chatter filled the house.  I sat there for hours, even long after the noises stopped.  Finally, when the light of the early morning sun slid beneath the bottom of the closet door, I opened it and stepped out.  The entire time, I hadn’t realized I had Gavin in my arms until he yawned and stretched, hand knocking against my side.

“Oh shit!” he yelped, yanking it back.  I felt as if I’d been caught in some awful act, nearly dropping him to the floor like my cat.  “Oh, I’m still here.  Didn’t mean to scare you, man.  I forgot where I was for a second.”  Gavin reached up and hauled himself upright by the fabric of my shirt.  He clung to my arm as he looked around the place, glowing in golden sunlight.  “Did we survive?”  “I…  think so,” I replied, stepping over to the back door and chancing a look at the sky.  The ship I’d seen was gone.  Reaching out with my free hand, I closed and locked the door, then headed to the front.

It felt so strange, carrying Gavin in a single arm as I traversed the house.  If it were like.. a really little kid under my arm, I wouldn’t think twice, but Gavin is usually a head taller than me.  No wonder he’d been so freaked out by his new height.  Making sure all the doors were locked tightly, I set Gavin down on the bar counter, then rushed back to the closet at the sudden realization that while the aliens had left, we still had a piece of their technology.

I placed the strange blaster down on the counter beside Gavin.  He knelt down, studying the device in silence.  “There's…  I- I think I’m stuck like this,” he said quietly.  Again I tried to see if I could switch the gun to reverse the effects, but the only thing it did was shrink things.  I watched realization and dread dawn on Gavin’s face, and my own stomach churned.  No matter how he wanted to move on, no matter how much I would try to help him, he would still be alone in whatever happened next.  Unless he wouldn’t be…

Stepping up to the counter, I slowly slid the gun into my hands.  I stared at it, deep in thought.  “If.. you really are stuck like that.. I’d rather be stuck with you than watch you suffer.”  My voice was met with a split second of stunned silence.  “What?!  I- I mean, thanks, but you really shouldn’t!  If you do that, you’ll be stuck small forever!  Then what are we supposed to do?  Stay in here until the owner comes home and finds us?”  Oh.  That’s true.  “So.. what do I do?” I asked him, unsure.  He shrugged, “I don’t know; I’m your problem, now.”  “Huh?”  “What?  You were gonna leave me with someone else?  If this had happened to me with anyone, I’d rather it be you who finds out.”  I felt a grin spread across my face.  “Really?”  Gavin nodded happily.

“Well.. I guess we should probably clean the place up, first.  The upstairs is a mess.”  A tiny gasp reached my ears.  “Right!  I heard a gun — a real gun, not the shrinking one — go off!  Did you shoot them?  Is that why they stopped hunting you?”  I nodded, remembering how my heart nearly beat right out of my chest.  “Yeah, I did.  I had to do something to help you.”  “I’m just glad it’s over.  Well, the alien part, anyways.”  I glanced at the door.  “Do you think they’ll come back for revenge?”  Gavin thought for a moment, then shook his head, stepping closer to the edge of the counter.  “Not during the day.  If you want to leave, I’m all for it.  Let’s clean this place up and get out of here. The owner can deal with whatever happens next.”  

We fumbled around for a few minutes, trying to figure out how to get him down before giving up.  “Just carry me,” he sighed, “I know you were kinda worried about it before, but as long as you don’t.. like, drop me or anything, I’m fine.”  I was tempted to jokingly say ‘yes you are’ — something I would usually do without thinking — but decided against it for some reason. Instead, I offered up my outstretched arms.  Gavin settled in and we headed upstairs.  I wasn’t quite sure what the plan was after we left, or if there even is one.  Regardless, I’m just happy we made it out alive.  Honestly, I feel like things aren’t really all that bad.

[secretwhumplair]

Meeting

519 words | Sequel to Empty

Prompt | No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” | Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?” - @whumptober

Content | Captivity, electric torture, possession

Notes | This one's finally a bit juicier! Whumpee's captor just wants to talk.

»This is just for my protection.«

They scrambled to the back of their room when they saw what their captor held in hand.

It appeared to be a cattle prod.

»It - I-«

»Shh, it’s alright. I know you wouldn’t hurt me, but I was hoping to speak to your guest, and… I’m not sure it understands how fragile humans can be.« He chuckled awkwardly. It would have been endearing if the whole situation hadn’t been - this. »I’m sorry I left you here alone for so long, but I had to figure out a way to protect myself, yeah?«

They were frozen, pressed against the wall.

»See, I don’t want to do this. But it’s been days, and I really want - no, I need to talk to that thing, alright?«

They didn’t know what to do - whether they should explain it was right there, that it was just waiting for an opportunity to strike. That it still could take over their body at the drop of a hat, apparently.

That it had done so the night - night? How were they supposed to know? - before, leaving them with the horrific feeling of their battered body being puppeteered without their will.

»We will not tolerate this,« it had said, and then it was gone again.

Now their captor slowly approached them. They found their eyes drawn to the prongs of the cattle prod. What are you planning to do? they wanted to ask, wanted to scream, but they couldn’t find the words.

»Are you there?« he asked lightly, his excitement barely guarded.

They jerkily shook their head. »It’s not - it’s not like that-«

He frowned. »Well, that’s a shame. It would have been easier. You have to believe I’m sorry to do this.«

And with that, he plunged the cattle prod forward.

For a moment, their world dissolved. It felt as if they were floating - floating in a bubble only punctuated by the searing pain, unable to focus on anything else. Then they heard screaming, and a moment later they realized they were screaming themself. Their body, cornered against the wall, twitched, whether from the electricity or an instinctual attempt to escape, they couldn’t tell. Their cracked rib, their many deep bruises protested the movement, colouring their world with additional flavours of agony.

Then it stopped, and they were sobbing against the wall, scrambling away, but only succeeding in locking themself in a corner. »No - please - stop-«

»One more try, huh?«

»No, please-«

He was not deterred by their words. Not from the second try, not from the third, or fourth, or fifth. They lost count. They could barely breathe, they couldn’t think, they just needed it to stop, their body couldn’t take anymore, they were already injured, stop - help-

The pain didn’t end.

And they had so little control of their body left that they barely noticed when it was wrenched away from them fully. At least until they found themself getting up, every muscle and many bones protesting. No - we can’t - I can’t take any more-

A disconcerting smile broke across their captor’s face.

»Oh.«

Then they lunged at him.

[papirouge]

I think the Americans are scared deep down of protesting like the French because many are just lazy and don’t want to be too uncomfortable by protesting. The French are based in that despite the hard shit and the tragedies, shit gets done. The Americans push back a bit, get scared when getting pushback by the elites and cling to their guns without using them to go back to their homes to whine at how awful their country is. Their country is huge and and if millions can come together to protest they can do it but they just won’t. I see it as they are only looking out for themselves deep down. They don’t care about others. They aren’t and probably won’t ever be “United” and fight together. That country is doomed to collapse probably soon so if any Americans reading this want to leave, I don’t blame you. Just don’t infect other countries with your bullshit.

Americans should start protesting because walking for hours is good for health and they'd be less obese. Being regularly chased by the police is good exercise, you work your endurance AND cardio🏃🏃‍♀️🏃‍♂️💨🚓. Now you know why the french are so skinny🤍🇫🇷

Yeah I always clowned American conservative/libertarians flexing their guns and mUh fRrEdOm but ultimately still getting finessed by a geriatric man out of his mind lmao.

If those men were that courageous you'd think they already done yet another Capitol stunt but right now they're busy crying & shaking behind their computers, saying about how the Left™ is coming for them, how the Capitol was a pSyOp to get every pAtrIoT arrested......but ALSO, it wasn't no big deal because the Capitol doesn't represent the American people anymore - and other copium nonsense...

And yeah the problem of individualism is a huge problem preventing Americans to resist effectively against governments. The USA is a veery young country too so its people have yet to build a sense of community ship beside the flag and the Bible - who never stopped good White Americans from treating other people as second class citizens if not barely humans flr most of its History ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ I cringe big time whenever I see ppl fawn over the concept of the USA, the "land of the free".... when its own founders had slaves 🤡

Social class awareness is what makes people break free from the bondage of corporatism. The USA have yet to have an ideologue like Karl Marx or Jean Jacques Rousseau to peak the masses.

Every french kid has to read "Le Contrat Social" of Rousseau during highschool ; that's why french citizens are wired to understand social class self awareness. Which ultimately make them more prone to fuck shit up when they feel their 'class' threatened.

I also always said that religion was relevant on that matter too. France is Catholic. I am not Catholic but I always said that Catholics knew how to do shit when it came to help the poor, organize mass scale social initiative, etc. Everytime I see Christians seething against giving money to the poor it's Protestants.

Here in France we have Caisses de Grèves (which can be translated as "Strike Pool") were ppl can donate money and then the money is distributed to all the people striking / missing days of work which take a tool on their finance. Lately, one donor gave 30 000€ !!! So even rich people have solidarity with strikers. Because social class awareness also helps rich people to be aware of their responsibility (use their privilege to help lower class people). OG Rousseau did the work centuries ago to slap some sense into the bourgeoisie, and now modern french citizens reap the benefits of his ideas. That's the perk of living in such an old country 🤍🇫🇷

....But when I look at American (Christians), they are often very contemptuous with this kind of initiative. Or they'll be like "I hope this money isn't going to lEftisTs !!" or even stupid shit like "handing stuff for free is the beginning of Communism"......but what they don't understand is that those leftist are socially closer to them than those millionaire they're white knighting online.

[volixia669]

Standing Strong in Current Political Climate

Alright, I mostly try to keep this to silly fandom and tumblr stuff, but with everything going on politically, it’s time for a serious post. About reality, about politics, and about how we survive. This is going to be about transphobia, queerphobia, and genocide, so I’m giving fair warning.

Buckle up.

Now, this is going to primarily US-Centric, as that’s what I’m familiar with, but make no mistake. There has been an authoritarian rise worldwide.

The UK has been Tory central for the past decade.

Australia has been putting climate refugees into concentration camps.

Israel has been using the pandemic to increase efforts to wipe out Palestinians.

Italy’s Prime Minister is Mussolini’s granddaughter (she’s proud of that btw) and is increasing queerphobia.

Russia is trying to recreate the USSR only with no fake pretenses of Communism (it was authoritarianism) this time around.

And the United States? Well the Republicans have been playing the long game since Reagan, and most of the Democratic party is perfectly fine with fascism since it makes them richer.

All this while the Earth becomes unlivable, people starve, and more. Oh, and covid never went away.

So.

The situation is...bad. Let’s just say it’s bad. There also seems to be a target on queer folks moreso than Jewish folks this time around, most likely since the Holocaust made most people a little twitchy about targeting Jewish folks, though that’s not to say those in charge aren’t perfectly fine with killing Jews.

Anyone who doesn’t conform to a mold is at risk.

But.

The situation is not hopeless.

I know it’s easy to read all that and think we’re all fucked, but I promise you, there is hope.

People have been unionizing, and striking at their workplaces.

Time and again, polls show that more people support queer people than oppose.

Time and again, polls show that the extremist view is a minority.

CPAC? That was practically empty this year.

More and more people are making it clear they want policies that help people and they’re tired of policies that help corporations.

People want to help the planet, they want to help other people. They don’t want to mass murder the “outsider.”

So what can you do?

Well, it varies depending on who you are, and where you are. Are you in Canada? Then vote and push for progressive policies, rather than right wing ones. In particular, you can join the push to allow asylum seekers to claim dangerous levels of queerphobia as their reason. This would help so many. Folks in other countries, I would reccomend the same. (Also maybe do something about that law preventing disabled people from immigrating to your country? Yeah, it’s a thing in a lot of countries. And there’s a lot of disabled queer people.)

You can join protests, and help local politicians canvas.

Unfortunately I can’t provide much info on what to do if you’re in most countries where being queer is either criminalized or being criminalized.

If you’re in the US though...

First off, for my white readers, are you familiar with the term antiracism? No? I recommend reading Ibram Kendi’s How to Be Antiracist. There’s a lot of racism in queer circles and it needs to stop. The way we solve these issues is through intersectionality, which means listening when black queer folks speak up. Listen. Learn. Improve.

This is important, because I need folks to understand that black queer folks are far more likely to be arrested, or worse. The cops will target black drag queens before they target white ones. They’ll target black trans folks before they target white ones.

Because this country is built on racism, and racism plays a key part in how laws are policed.

I’m not saying be careless if you’re a white queer btw, but recognize the levels of oppression here, work on improving yourself, but also? Use other people’s racism to protect black queer folk.

Weird sentence, I know, but let me explain, as this actually came up during the 2020 protests.

Say you’re at a protest, and the cops show up. The cops will try to arrest, injure, and/or provoke the black people there. But. If you’re white, you can stand inbetween the cop and the black person. If you get a bunch of other white people to join you, you can create a wall protecting multiple black people. And while you and the other white people aren’t immune from being arrested, injured, and/or provoked by the cops, you and other white people are more likely to come away unscathed.

There’s a bunch of situations this is applicable btw. Just don’t get all “white savior” about it, understand there’s a whole lot of history behind why black people might be wary of you and that’s okay, and ensure black people have the space to speak.

Alrighty, long spiel targeted to one particular demographic over. As for other things to be done? Be aware of the bills being passed in your state. Protest what you can. Make plans for escape if you need to.

Remember these things when crafting your escape plan: -Where?: This will effect everything else. A handful of states have passed bills making them trans refuge states, however getting to them may not be easy. You’ll also need to consider potential support structures that are there. -When?: This will depend on factors like what bills are being passed, how likely you are to be effected, and more. If you’re able to, consider making this a “normal” move rather than a last minute escape. -Finances: If you need to leave at the drop of a hat, can you? Are there any places you can cut back to save money? Are there any organizations that can help you? What about jobs? -Ease of escape: If you’re not in a position where you can move over the course of a month or two, this is where you need to really consider what you need and what you can leave behind. Also attempt to tie up as many loose ends as possible, and reduce the amount of objects you own as much as you can. Having a “go bag” can be extremely helpful. -Transportation: Can you drive? Do you have a license? Is getting a license feasible for you? What transportation is needed to get to the safe zone? Depending on the bills passed, you may want to have multiple options at hand. Documents: Linking back to finances and the go bag. What are your important documents? Where are they? What might you need in a new place and/or to claim asylum? Do you have a passport? Do you have a REALID? Currently you can fly domestically without one, but that could change swiftly. Keep everything together in a fireproof lockbox, until you need to throw it in the go bag. Lots of things to consider, which is why it’s important to think of this stuff ahead of time.

But it’s not all about escaping. Are you in a position you can help folks? Great! Look into mutual aid groups, find out what’s needed and how you can best help people.

So. This lengthy post is all to say the situation is bad, and we need to plan like it’s bad. But that doesn’t mean it’s hopeless. There’s places to escape, there can be even more with increased effort. We can work together to ensure that people stay safe, while also protesting.

And while I used the word “strong” in the title, it’s more complicated than that. You don’t have to be a bulwark. You don’t have to be stone. You can cry, and you can show weakness. This is stressful.

WHich is why, I want to be clear, this will not resolve in a short period of time. This may take years. The bills are passing incredibly quickly, but the resulting fallout? That’s the unknown variable.

The human body is not built to be stressed for years.

It’s just not.

That means the best way to remain strong against the tide of hate, is to have moments of joy. Watch silly videos, play silly games with friends, create beautiful art! Cry! Express your stress, and sadness. Then hold that ember of anger close to your chest, letting it motivate you, but not letting it take over until the moment is right.

Be prepared, be aware, but do not let the stress overcome you. On top of the multitude of negative physical effects, it can lead to snapping at those you love, or jumping the gun too soon. It leads to bad decisions at times those can be deadly.

But by having those moments of joy, you will survive. You will survive the hatred. Together, with the rest of us.

[thewarriorspecial]

Alright so:

@hobicat suggested an office AU. I don’t work in an office. I work in a dreaded grocery store. So this is a slice of that. And you know, my insanity. Huzzah!

Also included a delightful Ke$ha detail for @kiseiakhun.

This is completely unedited and typed on my phone.

Welcome to Zippys

The only universe in which Barry Allen is fucking evil.

There be dragons at the end of the world. And there be Evil Barry. Deific powers. An unsettling craving for violence fueled by too many years of passive aggressively accepting spoonfuls of shit from middle aged women who felt entitled to discounts. Just because, no explanation really.

One day Evil Barry, who used to be Fake Nice Barry until a middle aged white bitch told him to “go back where he came from” because she didn’t like his accent, was nudged over the edge.

Evil Barry grabbed that haughty bitch by her early aughts bob and threw her through a plate glass window.

You see, the whole thing started because there was a sale on ribs. Barry was Summoned to the front of the store from the Dairy aisle where he had been cleaning up all the overpriced eggs an Elderly Karen had dropped on the floor in protest of ever rising prices. Elderly Karen’s rage was understandable. She’s on a fixed income. When Fake Nice Barry was once young and Actually Nice, he would’ve given her the eggs at a discount. Or for free even if he could find a way to manage it.

Nonetheless here comes the page. So Barry pastes a cordial if somewhat tired smile on his face and asks Meat Karen how he can help her. And it starts. The torrent of personal accusations. The list of made up sins the whole store had committed against her specifically.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” he gently explains, “Our meat manager had a family emergency and since he’s our only trained meat cutter on the team, he wasn’t able to cut enough of those ribs for the sale today. He or a replacement from another store will be in tomorrow to get us caught up. May I take your name and make sure a special order is reserved for you?”

“Well how does that help me today? I need them today. They’re on sale today! I specifically made a thirty minute drive over here just for those and I’m supposed to come back? I have to make two trips now because of your incompetence??”

“I’m sorry ma’am,” Barry forces a steady tone, “What could do I do for you instead that would be more respectful of your time?”

“Have the shit in the store when you put it in the ad! You always do this! You lure people in here, nothing is stocked, everything is dirty! Do you get kickbacks from the oil people to make us drive more? Is that why you built that gas station? It smells! You cut down all those trees and stink up the whole neighborhood with your lies!!”

Barry had tried to answer her accusations as they came up but was stopped each time as she shoved her extended palm in his face, the universal symbol for Im not finished screaming at you yet.

And finally, after countless shifts, after countless hours of meaningless blocking and cleaning, and ordering and stocking and monotonous enduring—Barry snapped. An evil was unleashed in him so unbalanced it ripped a hole in the multiverse and created Zippys.

It is said that the lightning crack of every justified strike, every open hand, every Twisted Tea laid upon a Karen or Kevin results in immediate transmission to the store where you can check out anytime you like but you just respawn in the cart laden vestibule.

When that bitch got launched through the glass, her indignant shriek followed by the shattering glass each hit perfectly in time to the chorus of Keshas Tik Tok.

Meistro? Cue it up please.

Tik Tok on the clock but the party don’t—

“Stop! AGH!!”

Oh woah oh oh

Crash

Oh woah oh oh

A red streak appears next to Barry who’s still frozen in perfect pitcher form.

“Oh SHIT!” Wally cackles like a witch, ripping his cell phone out of his hoodie pocket and leaping after the woman. “World star!! World star!!”

[royalberryriku]

Okay, I don't usually do this but I stopped reading halfway through the replies by around the third or so post. I need to really make something clear here; totalitarianism thrives off of division, presumed power struggles between marginalised groups and the fear that the lesser evil is all that prevents you from being next. Historically, we have seen this in many different dictatorships and regimes. Many analysts, writers and political advocates have warned of this in their works; 1984, The Handmaid's Tale, The Hunger Games are a few fictional examples of using real world events as inspiration for heir dystopian systems. Every regime in these stories all use this exact method; fear to suppress resistance and hope for something better than he status quo. This needs to be considered before any of the above is even touched; are you acting out of fear?

It's okay to be afraid, I know that sounds contradictory to what I just said but it's important we understand that. It's valid, because this is scary, totalitarian regimes are terrifying. But that doesn't mean we should act out o that fear, because it's exactly that which these types of governments use to suppress their people and prevent potential uprisings. So, where does that leave us?

I'm Australian, but even I would be effected if Trump were elected. Even so, the problem is that I only say that because it's "worse" than what I have right now, which is still a fascist, oppressive government that has been controlled for literal years by a fascist totalitarian rogue state that switches our prime minister's when they don't align with the US's interests. While Biden has been in power, Australia has passed anti gay, anti trans, anti disability, anti indigenous laws and the labour government still acts as if it wants me and people like me dead. I'm not helped by anyone voting Trump out by choosing Harris because the "lesser evil" is exactly what ensures the next "Trump" will get in and ensures the system itself functions as intended; through fear. I don't want Trump in, but it will be a continuation of something much deeper and sinister to allow this system to use our fear of Trump to ensure even more fascists can take power. That is just the reality of totalitarianism and how the US has evidently functioned as one for generations, no matter if you do decide to vote Harris out of fear and you feel that this was the best you could do, that fear and it's very purposeful usage cannot be denied.

So, what do we do? "Well all we can do is vote so we can't let them take that power away by not voting!" You're right about not letting them take out right to vote! But, no, voting isn't all you can do. And especially in a situation where you're denied the right to vote (which is literally what the US does both in its own elections and it's interference in other elections) I think that should be remembered. The right to vote and choose who runs a country is something that needs to be protected; which is why we ought to have an actual democracy and not this fascist system that pretends there's a presidential race when there's just a magical chairs game with the same group of fascists. They'll be back, no matter how much we vote them out. If not now, the next and the next and the next will ensure that only those we fear take a seat while a lesser evil takes the other. What we need to do is remember we're people, and so are they.

They're not so powerful as to enforce a police state when police strike after being overworked (as seen in Australia currently with protests, it's causing us to burn out their enforcement and physical ability to stop us), or throw their military at its own citizens when the military burn their uniforms (as seen in the US) and leave. They can't enforce power when the people that make up that power refuse to comply anymore. Yes, the government is powerful, but don't forget that they are only human and this is a system that relies on the compliance of other people; including each and every one of us. You and the people around you rallying together are powerful too, refuse to comply and cripple the power at these people's disposal. Make a command meaningless by that command falling on ears that refuse to listen anymore.

Sure, you can vote Harris, or not vote, whatever. She'll be voted out next election for a fascist so as much as you say you did your part, you only did for a term, and then we'll vote in another Harris to stop that fascist and wonder why nothing every changes. The US empire is a totalitarian regime that doesn't genuinely allow democratic voting and will reinstate whoever they like by next election, Trump will run again and we'll cry about the lesser evil again and we'll wonder why the US is so dystopian despite voting in the "right" person and why the policies only get worse and worse. It didn't happen overnight, it's always been like this. Trump is the result of something deeper, not a sudden new shift from something good or normal. Trump came from a place that creates Trumps, so no he is not the last. There'll be more and worst, and you'll wonder why your vote didn't prevent it all over again.

If you're truly scared Trump? Turn that fear into anger and and turn that anger into hope; take to the streets and organise, think about what YOU can do, not what a representative could do if you vote for them enough times. Talk to your local activists and local civil rights groups, refuse to comply, refuse to serve in the military and refuse everything you can refuse until the US regime falls. Resist, because votes don't matter in the eyes of a government that can easily switch out whoever is voted in when they go against the system (and yes that has happened here in Australia and in many other countries too, so maybe think about if that happens to your governments too and how much value your votes really have in a system that can dismiss and deny that right). You as an individual can do SO SO MUCH! You don't just only have a say when you write a name on paper, you can do so much more so don't sell yourself short. Gather together, remember the strength we have in numbers and the power we all have as people.

TLDR: Remember who the real enemy is.

If Trump wins they'll let Israel destroy Gaza's entire Healthcare system including American-built hospitals & burn patients alive in their beds, that's already happening? Well if Trump wins they'll let Israel send their soldiers who've killed in Gaza to study at American universities and brag about their war crimes to the students who's families they've killed. That's already happening? Well if Trump wins he'll send American soldiers, missile interception systems, and naval task forces to stop anyone on earth from attempting to enforce the responsibility-to-protect under the genocide convention that the US was a signatory to. That's already happening? Well if Trump is elected he'll hurt ME.