#i was stuck at an election thing for an Activity and all i had on me was a pen and a crumpled reciept

[slavhew]

having a normal one about @pinetreevillain's timothy 🥹

[fiercynn]

okay, if you have ever made or reblogged a “hold your nose and vote for biden” post, this is for you.

here’s the fucking thing about these kinds of posts. i've been seeing them since i first returned to tumblr in, I think, late 2022? they've certainly increased in frequency since october 7, but they were there before too, ready to counter any kind of opposition to biden that has cropped up. many of them are not just trying to educate people about what positive things biden has done, which, like, at least I can understand the motivation behind those ones? but so many of them are directly in response to people criticizing biden, and their only real point is “sure you’re upset at this thing biden did, but have you considered the election?” starting YEARS before the next presidential election, mind you.

and october 7 only made that clearer. i don’t think it had been a week before i saw these posts cropping up. can you not see how fucking ghoulish that is? to look at the rightful pain and anger of those whose relatives and communities are being slaughtered with active american support, to respond to one of the few pieces of agency most americans have in influencing what their governments do – their vote – by saying “yes but trump would be worse.” as if the primary people you’re lecturing – palestinians, muslims, arabs, black people, indigenous people, disabled people, other marginalized people – don’t remember exactly how bad it was under trump!

and even if you think not voting is an empty gesture – something i, who studied political science at a mainstream american lib college, who has worked as a field organizer on a previous democratic presidential campaign and for several policy campaigns, who currently works in public policy in america, used to believe, but have absolutely changed my mind on – what is in no way an empty gesture is saying publicly that you will not vote for someone. the arguments people usually have about why simply not voting is bad are that you can’t tell why someone is not voting, so it is as likely to be apathy or disenfranchisement as it is a political statement. but saying publicly that you will not vote for someone, and why you will not vote for them, absolutely is a political statement, and potentially a powerful one! but you choose to negate and/or ignore that by trotting out the “lesser of two evils” bullshit.

and then there’s the whole “yes but people will DIE under trump”. PEOPLE ARE DYING NOW. even if you’re fucking racist and have decided that palestinian lives don’t count, have you forgotten biden’s ongoing covid minimalism and dismantling of the CDC’s covid research and prevention infrastructure? have you forgotten his increase in spending for law enforcement scant years after the murder of george floyd and his administration's surveillance of protesters, including cop city protesters? have you forgotten his recent ramp-up in deportations of undocumented immigrants, including the active continuation of many trump-era policies?

maybe you have forgotten all those things and do purport to care about palestinians, but you just think that biden is doing his best to influence netanyahu and is getting nowhere! but then you must have forgotten all of the things that biden and his administration themselves have done to further this fucking genocide, including:

continuing to send arms to israel

putting together a military task force within days of yemen’s red sea blockade and attacking yemeni ships

bombing yemen

bombing syria

bombing iraq

vetoing three ceasefire resolutions at the united nations

testifying to defend israel and its genocide and occupation at the international court of justice

refusing to rescue palestinian-americans stuck in gaza

halting funding to the united nations relief and works agency for palestinian refugees (UNRWA) based on israeli claims that 12 of UNRWA’s over 30,000 staff were hamas agents, even though u.s. intelligence has not been able to independently verify this

lying that he’s personally seen photos of babies beheaded by hamas when he hadn’t because they didn’t exist (and even when his own staff cautioned him that reports of beheaded babies may not be credible)

questioning the number of palestinian deaths reported by the gaza ministry of health (when even israel has not questioned them, since they are in fact proud of those numbers)

perpetuating lies about hamas having committed the attack on al-aqsa hospital

questioning united nations reports of adults and children raped by israeli soldiers while claiming to have proof (that no one else has seen) of hamas doing the same

honestly so many more things that i can’t remember them all but others feel free to add

or maybe you haven’t forgotten any of that, and think that you’re still justified in lecturing people about why they should vote for biden, because you genuinely believe trump would still be worse. if that is the case, you have still failed to see that by saying you will vote for biden no matter what, you are part of the problem of biden continuing to act like this. because biden is counting on fear of trump to win him this next election no matter what else he does. despite his appalling polling numbers, despite the knowledge that he is losing the palestinian-american vote, the arab-american vote, the muslim-american vote, the black american vote, the youth vote – despite all of that, he is secure in the idea that he will still win because he is better than trump. can you not see how that allows him to act without impunity? how it becomes increasingly impossible for his base to influence what he’s doing if he thinks that they will be with him no matter what? this is how you make yourself complicit to biden’s actions, by not affording anyone even the slightest power to hold him accountable for anything.

and in most cases, the “hold your nose and vote for biden” thing is the response of people who aren’t even being instructed by others not to vote for biden. it is their response to people saying they themselves are choosing not to vote for biden. fucking ghoulish.

[chaosduckies]

Friends In Small Places (Chapter 1)

The size shifter story is finally here! This is more of a slightly sad piece, even though this first chapter isn’t really all that gloomy and monochrome, I actually have this entire plot line planned out and everything, and whew is the ending going to be something.

But I hope you enjoy! (this chapter is mainly just for introductions so I’m sorry if there really isn’t anything interesting TwT)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Depression, major anxiety, slight gore warning? (Though nothing actually happens)

1-Liam

Today the main hall was bustling with people crowding the board that had all of the activities and clubs posted on. Most of the time people didn’t care all too much about it, only the people who were actually in those clubs, but today was different for some reason. Fitting in between the seemingly hundreds of people, I saw what the commotion was all about. The psychology classes were all being called to a meeting at four. Which was when most classes ended, but still. It’s rare that this school ever calls meetings. It just so happens that I was taking psychology though. 

I sighed, moving back on the free sidewalk get to the library. A friend was waiting for me to help her study for a test she had in just a few hours. I thought I might as well help seeing that I’ve already taken the course. I used to think that college was extremely strict from how my old high school teachers described it, but in reality it’s not that hard when you just take the time to study and take a few practice tests the day before one. It was just two-and-a-half years before I major in psychology and become a therapist. Well, that was my dream anyways. In this world, it was a lot harder given that most therapists get assigned to a size shifter. That was something I didn’t want to do. Well, maybe if it was one who could only shrink, but that’s maybe it. It freaks me out knowing that there are some shifters who could be as tall as a small skyscraper, and some even bigger. A shiver ran down my spine even thinking about it. But that won’t happen. 

Among the few people sitting at the quiet tables lines with pencils, a few pieces of notebook paper, and a lamp that barely even worked, there was a girl waving her arms around aimlessly trying to gain my attention. I laughed softly before walking and sitting down next to her. It seemed she had been here for hours with how she kept her space. Papers spewed all across with scribbled down notes that was barely even legible, colored pens in a mixed mess with her other writing supplies. It made you wonder how she had even made it to college. 

“I see you’ve been hard at work, Rhya.” I set my slightly heavy bag down and started attempting to clean up the vast sums of paper all over the desk and try to keep her notes in order. 

“Yeah well, not everyone can be all neat and tidy as you are.” She lightly elbowed me before grabbing the stack of papers in my hand and shoving them in a folder. I guess she was going to re-do them after all. Either that or she didn’t need them. Despite this being primarily a nursing and health school, Rhya was in the art department. Of course she had to take the core classes along with her own elective, but she plans on becoming a graphic designer. 

“It’s not my fault I know how to study and you don’t.” I joked around, watching her pull out her computer and grab a few empty pages on notebook paper and her calculus book. 

“And it’s not my fault you don’t know how to have any fun.” She stuck her tongue out playfully before pulling up a practice test. 

“Hey I know how to have fun, just not when I know I have better things to worry about.” She solved the first problem right, pumping her fist up in the air as she wrote down the question and highlighted everything she needed to do. I’m also guessing she planned to study whatever notes she was making. 

“I guess you have a point. How’s that psychology major coming along?” She had asked, writing down the problem and attempting to solve it. I sighed, pointing to the number she was missing, “You square root that,” Rhya groaned, “It’s going good. We have some kind of weird meeting later today though.” 

“Oh? Do you know what about?” Rhya asked, but I could tell she was hiding something from me. She knew something. 

“No. Do you?” I skeptically looked at her, earning a side eye right back as she had paused her writing for a moment. 

“Would you believe me if I said no?” She grumbled, I shook my head, a slight smile forming on my face. She knew I would win this argument. 

“Okay well, this might not be true, but I heard that a few psychology students were chosen to have a training. Like, the real deal kind of thing. Size shifter and all. That the ones chosen were supposed to act like one of those special therapists.” My heart nearly skipped a beat at the news. Where did she even hear this from in the first place? There’s no way that’s even real. 

“You’re kidding, right?” I laughed nervously. Even if it was true, I doubt they’d choose a sophomore. I’ve only really had a few practices and I still have a couple more years until I become the real deal. 

“Would I lie to you?” She turned to me, a worried look on her face. Did she think I would have to go through with that? I sincerely doubt it. There was no way they’d put me on whatever list they have going on. Maybe my upperclassman though. They could choose Chelsey, she was really good with everyone and a senior. They’d most likely choose her. Maybe even Ryan since he was really experienced. Actually, he was a size shifter himself, but he’s so good at controlling his emotions that he doesn’t even need to worry about accidentally shooting up a couple feet. 

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I doubt they choose someone with barely any experience. Don't’ worry about it.” I smiled, pointing back to Rhya’s computer to tell her that she needed to get to studying and stop worrying about me. Seriously, she really needed to study otherwise she was going to fail. I can almost guarantee that she’ll be crying to me later when she fails her test. Not my fault she doesn’t study. 

——————

The gym was a large space, but our entire class only took up one tiny portion of the bleacher space as our instructor and several other people dressed up in fancy suits were talking on the ground. I sat next to Ryan, who was playing with the green-colored band on his wrist, showing that he was in one of the five classes of size shifters. Purple represented that they could shrink down to an inch or maybe even smaller if their emotions had the better of them. Blue represented that they could shrink too, but not as much as the one’s with a purple wrist. Green represented that they could both shrink and grow, but only to a certain height. Yellow meant that the shifter could grow to be the size of about a small building, or maybe even a little more depending on how they’re feeling. Red was by far the worst one. To me at least. The shifter’s with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Which was why all shifters with a red band were all forced to be with a specialized therapist for only them. Because if they lose control of their emotions, it could end pretty badly.  

“I’m glad you all saw the announcement on the board. I’m a little surprised really.” Mr. Smith shoved his hands in his front pant pockets, taking a look at all of us before his eyes laid on me, smiling warmly. Why? Something was up. 

“These two gentlemen here are the head of the SSU. Also known as the company that helps size shifters in need. Recently, there has been a shortage of individuals that are willing to work with shifters in helping them control themselves. These two are on the look for candidates-in-training to help fill those missing spots.” 

The two men in suits walked to the front, holding out a clipboard. Those had whoever was going to be picked for this. But why this school? There was another college not too far from here. They could choose from them. Unless they were, and the “tiny” shortage was actually a big one. Or… no. They wouldn’t do that, right? It’s the SSU, they’ve literally helped the world become safer for decades. They wouldn’t be doing an experiment, would they? 

“It’s wonderful to see all sixty-two of you young scholars gathered here today. As your professor already said, we are both from the head office at SSU looking for the best of the best to fill in those empty spots, regardless if you do or don’t have any experience.��� That last part made a shiver run down my spine. Ryan turned his head to me, patting me on the back. There was no way they’d choose a nobody like me. No way in hell. 

“This list contains twenty of you who will be taking part in this. You will be in charge of taking care of your designated partner until we can find a professional replacement suited well enough to take over. If I call your name, please stay behind after we dismiss everyone.” The tall man smiled, looking down at the clipboard and calling several names. The anxiety pricked my skin like icicle shards, it had almost seemed like the man reading off names was speaking in slow motion. A few deep breaths, and it was back to normal. 

“Ryan Wright.” He smiled while earning several compliments and congratulations from his fellow classmates. 

“Chelsey Torres.” She giggled a few seats away from us. 

“And Liam Rover.” 

My muscles tensed up at the mention of my name. I couldn’t tell if my heart had stopped or if it was just beating horrifyingly fast. I could tell people were trying to praise me, but I couldn’t hear, their appraisal only reaching my ears in a muffled and slow manner. I managed the most sincere smile I could while trying to hide how much I was trembling. Maybe this would be okay? Maybe I’ll be lucky and not be paired up with a shifter who could potentially crush me between two if their fingers if they really wished to. Was the room cold or was it just me? 

“Everyone else may head to their dorms. Thank you for coming.” 

After everyone had filed out of the empty gym, the other shorter man dressed in an identical suit as the taller one started calling out our names all over again, handing them a red folder with presumedly the shifter we’ll be assigned. Was this how it was when you’re actually a professional? You just get assigned to one? You don’t get to know them or anything? 

Once I was handed my folder, I dreaded every single second of opening it. Please let it be easy, please let it be easy, please let it be eas-

Oh. 

It was only a picture of who we were partnered up with and anything that might be worth mentioning about them. Wow was I overreacting. Then again, that didn’t exactly smoothen out the anxiety that was still pricking at my skin. Though, this shifter didn’t seem so bad. If anything, he actually looked pretty nice. The only thing I had noticed was that he was diagnosed with depression. He kind of looked like it too if I were being honest. It seemed hard for him to smile for the picture. Why did I also get the hint that he wasn’t feeling very good either? I guess I’ll find out when we officially meet. 

“Inside you’ll find who your partner will be for the foreseeable future. You’ll still be coming to your classes, which was why we mainly wanted to stick with the upperclassmen, and afterward go back to where we are currently housing your designated shifter. You have three days to pack everything you need and want, and you’ll soon be living off campus. Just think of it was having a roommate that needs constant supervision.” 

Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I’m almost entirely confident that this shifter won’t really be a big deal. I mean, he looks about a year or two younger than me. So he just graduated high school? Agh, I have no idea. I’m just jumping to conclusions. But, hopefully they won’t make me handle anything crazy. That I can’t do. 

——————

They were driving me across the city to go meet up with the shifter I’ll be taking care of for however long. For all I know it could be a few days or weeks. I would think someone would want to step up for the job instead of letting students do this, but I guess not. Chelsey and Ryan have texted me a few times that they were getting settled in already while I was still heading over. It was already around thirty minutes just to get across the place, so that means I’ll have to take a bus almost everyday just to make it to my classes. That’s just great, but I’m in no position to complain. I actually tried talking with Professor Smith about it, but he told me that he had no say in the matter at all, which was weird. I doubt he would want his younger students to even take part in this. 

Along the streets were the many, many buildings that both accommodated for humans and their much larger or smaller companions. Although I’ve only ever been around Ryan about twice when he’s giant, it really wasn’t that bad. He can only grow till someone was like the height if his entire hand so it really wasn’t even that bad. Of course it’s still nerve-racking, but I trust him. Plus, we were at a small party with our little friend group. I doubt he could even bring himself to hurt someone. So really I wasn’t too worried. The only other shifter I’ve been around is an old high school friend of mine, but she goes to a different college now. 

Hundred of houses passed by us as we drove into a little neighborhood. What really made me worried was that the driver wasn’t exactly stopping at the normal-sized houses. Where was he going? I watched grimly as some of the huge houses we passed by came to a halt to one on the very end of one of the many streets. This one wasn’t as big as the other one’s down the street, but it wasn’t exactly small either. At least to me. So… I was paired up with a shifter who could only grow. That’s great. Just… great. 

I grabbed my bag and the small suitcase I had brought with me that was just full of my clothes and some stuff for school. Well if I’m supposed to stay here almost all of the time now I have to find something to keep me busy. And apparently from the immense size difference that will be between my new roommate and I. Of course I was terrified! If he really is diagnosed with depression and was a shifter who grew that only made matters worse for me. I hope whoever plans to take over for me does it soon. 

It took me and the driver to reach the doorstep, but eventually the driver gave it a knock. I swear I could hear some mumbling coming from the other side, but I didn’t dwell too much on that. Most.y because the extremely large door started to open slowly, but I saw no one on the other side. Maybe he was shy? 

“Well I may take my leave, though I have been ordered to tell you that a bus comes in the morning at around 6 just down the street from here, and another will take you back here around 5 and 8. Also, if anything goes wrong, to call this number on your phone.” He handed me a folded slip of paper, then took his leave. I shoved the slip in my pocket, hesitantly taking a few steps into the huge house. 

It was neatly cleaned around the place, though I couldn’t really see from my view on the ground. Everything around me was huge. I mean I’ve been to one of the rooms on the bigger side of the campus, but those rooms were smaller. It’s not an entire house filled with furniture. 

As I took a few steps out more, I jumped when the door had lightly closed behind me. My eyes trailed up and up, finding the face of the person I had seen in the picture. His eyes grew wide when I met his gaze, then bit the bottom of his lip before sliding his back against the wall behind him. 

Everything in my body told me to run, but if I did then I would only get scolded for it later. This isn’t even what I wanted to be! I wanted to be a normal therapist that helps regular adults and kids feel better. Not a human who could easily trap me in a fist and just kill me. I would have been fine if they could only shrink, but this was much worse. 

I faced down, taking a few deep breaths that barely even help me in this situation. I had to take care of someone fifty times my own size? How was that even possible? There weren’t even any smaller sized things around this place. Nothing that could help me get around easier either! 

I guess I could attempt to get his name. I mean, nothing could go wrong then, right? Just maybe from a distance… even if he could, at any point in time, just grab me whenever he so wanted. I felt sick just thinking about being held. Wouldn’t I have to be though? I can’t exactly just climb everywhere I want to go. 

“H-hi. Um, I’m Liam.” I forced myself to walk closer, even under his gaze, but I stopped walking closer when he moved himself further in the corner, looking a bit saddened. He probably knew I was scared. Maybe. I hope I’m some-what hiding it well enough. Though, I’ve never really been that good at it. 

“Oh, um, C-Casper. You can call me Cas if you want.” He kept his voice to a very quiet whisper. So he knew that if he talked too loud it would hurt my ears. At least he’s self-aware. Though, I couldn’t help but feel bad. I may be utterly terrified of him, but I mean he hasn’t really given me a reason to be truly scared, yet. 

“Nice to m-meet you, Cas.” I put on my best fake genuine smile. What? Have to find some way to convince him I wasn’t scared. Even if my body was trembling like crazy and my heart threatened to just come right out of my mouth. 

“Y-you too, sir.” His hand slightly twitched, but he just shook his head, giving me a sad look. ‘Sir?’ Why did he call me that? I didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I turned to look at the place, not finding a place to put my stuff. I sighed, hurrying to place it up against the wall opposite of Cas. This would be fine. Yeah, yeah. 

Casper, overall, seemed pretty nice. He had a black, messy hair that complimented his light-brown eyes. He wore a baggy long-sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans I have no idea why he was just wearing jeans in his own house, but it’s whatever he wants to do. Not my place to comment. The only real thing that caught my attention were the light bags in his eyes. Has he been sleeping? 

“Did you want to come here? Like, willingly?” He had asked, slightly leaning a little closer to my spot in the middle of the floor. I admit, it made me a little uneasy, but I don’t think he realized it. It just made it really hard to answer his question when all I could think about was how easily he could kill me right now. He wouldn’t do that, right? He seems so nice. Even if I’m barely two inches to him and I could easily just be crushed or accidentally killed if he wasn’t being too mindful. I shuddered at the thought, but forced my voice to work with me. 

“I-I’m just a student at a college. They just told us we were going to help out shifters, for like, real-world training I guess.” I started speaking a little fast and I could hear my voice slowly get quieter the more Cas seemed to lower his body to me. I felt so small compared to him. It’s overwhelming really, but it’s not like I can just back out. I already asked and they said if I did then I wasn’t cut out to stay in the classes. Seriously, all I wanted was to either be a therapist or a social worker. Not take on these huge responsibilities of making sure an entire living being is doing okay and doesn’t have any malicious intent to just… Aghhhh. 

“Oh. Well, I’m not exactly the best person to be paired up with.” He laughed sadly, holding up his wrist and revealing a red band. A little squeak left my mouth as I stood in place, practically frozen in fear. Why did they pair me up with him? They gave me more than I can handle. There was no way I could do this. I bit the side of my cheek, struggling to keep my composure. 

Cas caught onto my fear, scooting as far away from me as he could while making sure I wouldn’t freak out. Why did he move away? I was going to be fine. I think- But I was okay. Just as long as I keep a certain distance from him for a while. It takes me a long time to adjust to new things, and this might take me a while, but I couldn’t just do nothing. It was obvious to me that Cas was afraid of something, I just couldn’t figure out what just yet. 

“I’m fine, Cas, I promise.” I nervously smiled, hiding how terrified I was. Shifters with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Great. Seriously, what have they done? They think I can handle someone who already looks like he’s struggling to keep himself together just by meeting me? I didn’t really want to find out what would happen if he doesn’t contain his emotions. Was there a person partnered up with him before? I knew I wasn’t going to be getting any answers, but there was no harm in asking them. 

“O-Okay,” He whispered, getting in a more comfortable sitting position, “Are you sure though? I don’t mind giving you an hour or two to get used to… everything.” He looked away for a second, and I could tell something was on his mind. Along with the constant moving away every time I had tried to walk closer, or when he knew I was scared of him, I would think to say that he’s scared of himself. Or, at least hurting other people. It makes sense actually. I’ve heard stories that a lot of shifters realize that they can really hurt people and just try their hardest not to interact with people smaller than themselves. It’s like they collapse on themselves since they don’t want to hurt anyone. I guess Cas and I weren’t so different. 

“Okay, look, it’s obvious that you’re more afraid of yourself than I am of you,” Cas’s eyes widened, “How about we both try to help each other out? I’ll keep trying if you do.” I held out my hand without thinking. A compromise between the two of us. I know we both met like five minutes ago, but I’m pretty sharp for people my age with little experience. But, honestly, maybe this wasn’t so bad. I think all that Cas wanted was the relief that he won’t hurt people. Or something like that. 

“You’d go through with all that? I’m not exactly mentally stable.” I could tell that he was worried, but I just nodded my head, a genuine smile on my face that I hoped he could see. 

He eyed my hand for a while, and I still hadn’t realized what was wrong until he lightly pinched my hand between the tip of his pointer and thumb, barely even lifting it up and down for my own sake. Oh he has no idea how scared I was right now, but he didn’t have to know that. Just a little more pressure and he could just yank my arm right off-I shook that thought away. Don’t think about that right now. It would be okay. Just as long as I get an idea of what to do when he does eventually lose control or something. I had zero idea. I think the thought that stuck in the back of my mind was making me more worried than anything really. I’m just a stress toy for him. But I’ll just have to get over my fear. There was no way I would let this stop me from graduating. Not in a million years.

——————

Sorry for a slightly boring chapter! I did a LOT of world building for this one, and had to map out almost every single interaction through the course of the entire story plot. There also wasn’t much g/t but again, it’s just an introduction chapter. (I’m doing what I love and no one can stop me hehehe-)

But I hope you enjoyed reading! I promise the second chapter will have a much, much better g/t interaction. (Oh trust me it will >:3) I hope you all have a great day/night!

[luneariann]

Bsd headcanons!

- Kouyou, 27 yr as of current canon

- Kouyou started dressing in traditional clothing in an effort to seem older/inspire more respect when she first became an executive, and it stuck. now instructs all the people under her wing to do the same

- Actually a huge fan of romance novels, Chuuya started reading them cuz of her

- Tea snob

- WILL judge you to your face in the most convoluted language, you will only realize you were insulted in like three business days

- She has freckles but she covers them up w makeup, Yosano loves them

- Yosano, 27 yr old

- When she was first adopted by Fukuzawa she tried doing things she thought kids her age did in an effort to feel more "normal" it didn't rly work

- Has won scariest ADA member four years in a row, shes both very proud of that title and very protective of it, actively does scarier shit once the elections come back around each year

- Wine snob!

- Veryyy blunt, she got it from Ranpo (Fukuzawa would call him a bad influence except he theyre both saying what hes thinking so)

- Dazai, 26

- Has tried to be a plant dad to win a bet w Ranpo, failed miserably, none of his plants are alive but theyre all lovingly named anyway, he talks to their decomposing corpses sometimes

- The worst fashion sense known to man, he KNOWS how to dress he just makes the active choice to dress like a bowling alley carpet when given the chance

- When Atsushi made him a friendship bracelet and he had to be excused to go to the bathroom and compose himself

- Hes Yokohamas local cryptid

- Chuuya, 26

- Loves romance novels, its his greatest secret

- Dazai gave him a bunch of plants as a surprise gift during his brief plant dad phase, he frantically learned everything he could abt them so he could take care of them properly

- He cuts his own hair, yes it is uneven on purpose, he thinks he looks cool (he does, but only because hes Chuuya so he can pull off literally anything) (yes i am biased why do you ask)

- Fantastic cook

- Piercings <333 he would get a tattoo but he doesnt rly do well with needles (cough trauma cough)

- Atsushi, 18

- Had a "sleepover" with Kyouka when he realized neither of them had ever had one, it was great they did eachothers nails and watched romcoms together, Kyouka decided she didnt really like them but Atsushi did so they watched them anyways

- Made everyone friendship bracelets one time on said "sleepover"!

- ALSO has an atrocious fashion sense, its Dazais influence <//3

- Kyouka has made it her personal mission to fix his haircut over time (he cuts his hair with kitchen scissors, she was horrified when she saw)

- Akutagawa, 19

- a full on trad goth, he goes simple for work tho

- Hes a gatekeeper, sorry yall </3

- Carries around an umbrella in the sunlight cuz he burns rly rly easily

- Gets cold REALLY easily too

- The most socially inept man you will ever meet, Gin had to cover for him A LOT when they were children

- When he first realized he felt something for Atsushi he not only did not realize that his heart speeding up around him was a crush thing, but thought it was excitement for a fight, so he just ended up challenging him to an absurd amount of fights, going as far as to go to the ADA to pick fights

[eowyntheavenger]

Hi! I saw your post on telling Americans to vote, and I was wondering what you think of posts from people from other parts of the world who are calling Americans evil for voting for Biden because of his support for Israel. I've seen a few already. They seem to be completely convinced that Americans deliberately voted for Biden specifically to side against Palestine and no other reason, and spread the general (pretty ignorant and hateful) message of "Americans are evil because of the actions of their government and because they collectively refuse to vote for a president who is good and not simply 'the lesser of two evils'". It frustrates me because they seem to think they're experts on US politics, culture, and society and have all the answers, but it also makes me concerned because it reminds me of the whole Russian bot thing from last time. Like, I'm 99% sure the people reblogging these posts aren't Russian bots (don't know about the OPs though), and they unquestioningly believe this. What do you think of this and how would you go about addressing this issue? Do you think it's possible to get them to understand how little they actually know about the US and how they're actually promoting a message that makes things worse for everyone? I've also seen less scathing posts that are just disheartened and don't seem to believe the democrats are truly better to vote for than the republicans and so it's just two sides of the same coin. To be fair, I think that sort of feeling is only further encouraged because there didn't really seem to be much if any progress made with Biden, not even back to square one after Trump moved the country so far backwards. I think most Americans really wish the elections actually had good candidates and they could pick the best of two goods, but are frustrated and stuck with the current system and don't know how to actually get to the point where there are good candidates. (Though personally I think voting for the one who isn't actively trying to make themselves a king with unlimited terms is a decent start. I can understand the frustration though.)

Hi! Thanks for the ask. This stuff worries me too. I've gotten comments on my posts like that too, telling me/other Americans that we're evil for voting for Biden.

But I've seen a much larger number of comments and posts from people outside the United States BEGGING us to vote for Biden. I literally get tags like that on my posts EVERY DAY urging Americans to vote blue. So I think that's valuable context, even if it doesn't solve the problem of the "I hate everybody who votes for Biden" crowd.

And yes, it's definitely a shitty argument on their part to claim that people voting for Biden are specifically siding against Palestine. Literally every single person I know in real life and online who plans to vote for Biden has been criticizing and protesting his policies on Palestine.

In terms of convincing the anti-voters that they're wrong, honestly, I don't know. They don't listen to reason and they seem intent on spreading despair. Some of Biden's policies have been terrible (Willow oil-drilling project), some of them have been downright evil (military aid to Israel), but I'm a rational person and I know that Trump is worse in every respect.

I've tried debating them. It's been pointless every time. They genuinely don't know how the government works, which scares me. Common takes include: 1) a genuine lack of awareness of how pro-Israel Trump and the right wing are, combined with magical thinking that a virtually unknown third party candidate can win the presidential election, 2) truly impressive mental gymnastics blaming Biden for the overturn of Roe v. Wade, and 3) continuing the mental gymnastics to blame Biden and the Democrats for anti-trans policies...

I guess my advice is to either ignore them and move on, or debunk things when you have time/energy? It's easier said than done, I know. There's nothing more annoying than someone being stupid on the internet, especially when they accuse you of stuff that just isn't true, and especially when they're spreading dangerous misinformation or voter-suppression rhetoric.

Like you, I'm highly suspicious of anyone who advocates AGAINST voting, or against voting blue. And I agree, many of these people are not bots, like you said, but I call them useful idiots, because they're doing the bots' work for them.

The one thing you said that I'm going to push back on is "there didn't really seem to be much if any progress made with Biden." Biden's actually made lots of progress on a variety of issues, and reversed some of Trump’s damage, it just doesn't get a lot of fanfare and it’s unfortunately happening at the same time as Republican gains in state legislatures and while they control the Supreme Court. But Biden and his administration have:

• invested billions in green architecture and clean energy, including making sure federal investments benefit low-income communities

• introduced new fines for companies' methane emissions

• introduced a plan to cut the federal government's greenhouse gas emissions by 65% by 2030 (that includes the military, which is a huge emitter)

• passed a huge bill for improving the country's infrastructure, including bridges, roads, broadband and more

• introduced first-ever national strategy on gender equality and equity and pushed Congress to pass the Equal Rights Amendment

• fought for women's reproductive rights after the overturn of Roe v. Wade

• put more women, people of color, and women of color on the federal bench than any of his predecessors combined

• nominated Kentaji Brown Jackson as the first Black woman to serve on the Supreme Court

• boosted funding to historically Black colleges

• ordered the DOJ to end the use of private prisons by the federal government

• pardoned thousands of people convicted on federal marijuana charges

• created a White House office of gun violence prevention

• passed the Respect for Marriage Act, guaranteeing federal rights and benefits for same-sex couples

• rolled out a series of actions to protect the rights and safety of the LGBTQ+ community, including protecting queer and trans foster youth, improving access to mental health services, and addressing the rise in hate crimes

• challenged discriminatory state bans against gender-affirming care and trans athletes

• called to support trans youth in State of the Union address and restored the White House tradition of recognizing Pride Month

• changed passport rules so that people can obtain a passport with no gender marker

• examined efforts by each federal agency to advance LGBTQ+ rights around the world

• reversed Trump's transgender military ban

• protected the rights of incarcerated trans people

• forgave billions in student debt, repeatedly, and introduced penalties for college programs that trap students in debt

• slashed bank overdraft fees

• expanded guaranteed overtime pay for millions of people

• made union-busting harder

• prevented discriminatory mortgage lending

• made efforts to expand the child tax credit, which could lift hundreds of thousands of children out of poverty

• cracked down on agriculture monopolies to support farmers and small businesses

• made it so the government is going to start taking drug companies' patents away if they don't make affordable drugs

• made over-the-counter birth control pills available for the first time

• lowered the cost of hearing aids and expanded access to them

• spent millions of dollars on students' mental health

• reversed discriminatory healthcare rules

• reinvigorated cancer research

• announced plans to replace all leaded pipes in the next ten years as well as combatting lead exposure abroad

• changed rules for how people can get aid after disasters so they can get more protection and immediate payments more easily

• introduced new data privacy rules protecting people from tech companies

• pushed the federal government to monitor AI risks

• maintained steadfast support for Ukraine in the face of Russian aggression

• maintained steadfast support for Taiwan in the face of Chinese intimidation

• strengthened ties with allies in Asia and the Pacific Islands

• pledged climate change assistance to low-lying Pacific Island countries

• literally IMMEDIATELY after being elected, Biden fortified DACA, rejoined the Paris Agreement, and ended Trump's discriminatory "Muslim ban", ended the Keystone XL Pipeline and fossil duel development in wildlife monuments, (same as last link) rejoined the WHO, strengthened COVID-19 response measures on a variety of fronts, re-included non-citizens in the U.S. census, and passed executives orders on racial equity in the federal government

And I'm sure there's more I left out.

There are also things Biden does that literally don’t make the news, but matter a lot, like funding the Postal Service, and continuing to have a State Department so we can conduct overseas diplomacy (Trump tried to defund the USPS and wants to purge the State Department and fill it with loyalists).

[newwillinium]

The Great Khans and the Tribes of Zion/Honest Hearts

So I noticed this a few nights ago when I was trying to decide what route to go for my newest Fallout New Vegas character, and I noted something that I don't think many people have really ever clicked on.

-][-

The Great Khans, in Fallout New Vegas, are written as stand-ins for Native Americans.

Hear me out.

They are a people who have been pushed east out of their ancestral homelands time and time again, later finding a home for themselves in the Mojave. They warred with other native tribes, Mr House and what would become the Families, and then later were subject to a brutal attack on their civilians which led them to be stuck on land that was their own but was sparse in resources and are unable to meaningfully fight back against the rising Imperialistic powers of Mr House and the NCR (President Aaron Kimball later referencing and using the same "Sea to Shining Sea" rhetoric as the United States did during the Great Western Expansion, at Hoover Dam).

But what really clicked this for me was that, in the NCR ending where the Great Khans ally with the New California Republic, they are once more kicked off of their land and are sent off to a far off distant Reservation.

After the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, the Great Khans returned for a time to Red Rock Canyon. The NCR's pressing need to expand proved greater than its promise of amnesty, and before long the government decided the Khans had to go. The surviving Great Khans were relocated to an isolated, barren reservation, well north of NCR trade routes

Sounds really familiar right?

And looking at the Great Khans within this context, really reframes the context of their raiding and deep bitter anger that the Elder Khans like Papa Khan and Oscar have against the NCR.

Colonization is an ugly brutal thing, and it is also a complex one.

Like the Great Khans in New Vegas, many Native American tribes ending up raiding American citizens as a way to fight back, to strike against a rising imperialistic threat that was eager and willing to grind them against their heel, to kill their culture and bring all under the American Empire.

They fought, raided, begged, pleaded, sent letters to congress, lobbied Congress and the President and the Director of Indian Affairs, even as the infinitely more wealthy and powerful United States (even just off of the weary years of Civil War) did little to nothing to step the Westward push and actively allowed it's military to perform as it may on and off orders to get the natives off of land that had once been promised to them but was now deemed too valuable for a mere treaty to hold any sway.

And to bring this back to the actual conversation I want to have, is that I wanted to state this realization of mind in order to contrast it with another example from the exact same game.

The Dead Horses, Sorrows, and White-Legs of Honest Hearts.

Where as the Great Khans are treated with a kind of weary respect, of a people crushed beneath the wheels of a infinitely more powerful empire, struggling to find hope in a FUTURE for their people and culture, the Dead Horses and Sorrows and White-Legs are. . .honestly written with far less respect in my eyes.

The Sorrows are being actively converted by a White Savior in Daniel, who sees it as his burden to show these "innocent savages" the true faith and demands that they give up their home so that they are not "tainted" by the harshness of reality. Where they have no other visible leaders then this Foreign Priest calling their faith and interpretation of his teachings through their own cultural lens as wrong-headed.

Where Joshua Graham, the butcher who helped Caesar commit cultural genocide on dozens of tribes alone, is elected War Leader by the Dead Horses and in some endings becomes worshiped by them. Even he warns Follows-Chalk to stay in Zion lest he be corrupted by the dangers of the wider wasteland.

Now you sound like Joshua. He always tells me the tribal life is better, that I should stay here and forget the outside world.

And the White-Legs are treated as nothing but a people wholly existing of hate that deserve to be destroyed because they have been fooled by Ulysses and Caesar. Never humanized, never given a chance to learn the truth for themselves, they are written and treated almost like generic Orcs in many fantasy settings. No matter what this tribe and people are consigned to doom and slaughter.

-][-

And I say all this because I find it deeply weird how disparate these ideas and depictions are between the main game of New Vegas and it's Honest Hearts DLC.

Why are the Great Khans given so much dignity and pathos, when the Honest Hearts tribes feel almost like caricatures?

Why is Honest Hearts the way it is? And why is the writing so disparate between the two sections of the game?

[confused-much]

So, I started rewatching Community after a year or two and wow, I forgot so many things about this show:

Jeffannie started in season 1 during that debate episode and this makes me feel even more icky. Somehow I thought that this ship started at the end of season 1/beginning of season 2.

Jeffannie is so uncomfortable for me to watch. Not only is the age gap creepy, Annie is presented as this innocent girl while Jeff is Jeff. And yeah, as the series progresses, Annie matures but she's still so young and has her whole life ahead while Jeff is 40 and stuck at Greendale

Britta in season one was the best because she wasn't dumbed down and exaggerated. She had the same flaws as in later seasons (like her lack of real activism, terrible choice of boyfriends, being uncool etc.) but those flaws were believable and toned down to fit the rest of characters. I miss Britta

I forgot that they made Pierce horrible in season 2 onwards so it was a shock. In season one he has more redemptive moments

I miss season one and two of community the most. The show was still somewhat grounded and it made me think of my own college experiences (anthropology as shown in community was basically 80% of my real classes)

Senior Chang > any other Chang BUT that one episode of Guard Change is top ten for me ("Arizona backwards is Arizona!")

Abed was terrible to Troy in some episodes in season 3 (Blanket fort episode, stars doppelgangers episode) and doesn't face consequences/learn a lesson/start to appreciate Troy more. I like Abed but it still pisses me off

I feel that as the show progressed it was less about the main 7 and more about Annie and Jeff which sucks and I hate it

Also, Jeffbritta was the best. Are they toxic? Yes. Do they understand each other on a deep level and always help each other when needed? Also yes. I loved their bickering in the show and I always liked their little moments.

I forgot that Dean's Dalmatian fetish started in season one and progressed throughout the story

Paintball episodes are meh for me. Yes, all of them

"If loving worms is stupid then I don't want to be smart!" "It is and you can't!" I love this little exchange.

Idk, I noticed that sometimes some characters from main 7 appeared for like 1 minute in the whole episode. I know that you can't always have episode with all of them equally on the screen but idk it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Like the election episode which is basically all about Jeff and Annie. Pierce has like 5 lines and all are horrible, Troy and Abed are reduced to being announcers, Britta and Shirley basically don't exist (Britta also goes on stage and is ridiculed)

Idk they could have done more with Shirley

I also like the friendship between Britta and Shirley, the anarchist and atheist being friends with devoted Christian has so much potential

I was never fan of Troy and Britta together

Idk, on one hand Trobed is fine, but on the other hand showing a deep and profound friendship like that is also fine. I'm ok with both

Ass crack bandit song slaps and I love it

Out of all of the main seven, I don't like Annie the most (after season 2 onwards Pierce ofc). And I honestly can't tell if I don't like her that much because of the personality or because of her ship with Jeff

[bethanythebogwitch]

Summary of an argument I had with an anti-voting person I won't be replying to anymore

>Them: I refuse to vote for Biden because of Palestine

>Me: I also hate Biden and want a free Palestine, but allowing trump to become president will make everything in Palestine worse as well as remove all our rights and usher in a fascist theocratic dictatorship. When one choice is clearly less bad than the other we should pick that one.

>Them: actually voting doesn't matter and I'm sick of choosing the least bad option. Instead of finding the least bad option we can organize communities and forcibly change the system.

>Me: We can do both of those things at the same time and until we can change the system we have a moral obligation to reduce the harm experienced by the vulnerable by voting in the party that does not want to actively kill and enslave vulnerable people.

>Them: voting doesn't work and it doesn't matter who gets elected. You're too stuck in the system to see how evil it is

If you claim to want to protect vulnerable people from the establishment but refuse to do the bare minimum of taking one day to prevent the people who have promised to do the most harm to them, I do not believe your claim of care. Someone who sits back and allows the harm to happen because they won't get their hands a little bit dirty to stop it is not a hero, they are a hypocrite and an enabler.

Edit: I forgot to mention that their suggested alternative to voting was to train your communities in guerilla and anti-tank warfare to presumably fight back against a fascist invasion. Now I'm convinced they actually want trump to win and start using the military on protesters (as he promised to do) so they can play out their violent revenge fantasies.

[iruiion]

literally obsessed with drawing donnie in shitty garages. this time he's a streamer. i was literally drawing this EXACTLY like i was the ai that extended jerma's room. i just kept extending the canvas.

i think either he's a 2 view streamer, or he's actually decently popular, but his streams are actively hostile to his viewers. like they're so shitty and about such esoteric topics so nobody can really follow along. he has a Unregistered HyperCam 2 watermark. he has a stream where he shows his viewers how to make pipe bombs

try to spot all the details on your own :) but also a list of detailz under the readmore

i think 1/2 of this will be a where's waldo esque thing because "Image too fucking small" but this will generally be kind of in order. O.K.?

-miku poster -jupiter jim, gundam, and miku figures (jupier jiim figure from "purple game" ep :) ) -drinky bird -three discarded energy drink cans, one of which is DRIPPING of the TABLE !! -gamer mouse -mug that says "else {continue;}" because . whatever. good joke -dead shit in jars -kitty digital alarm clock. miau -sonic for genesis on da shelf. w/ dvds and other gamez. there is no sega genesis in the image btw but there IS a gamecube -the world's smallest cnc machine is on the shelf -michael wave -minifridge -3d printer & filament on the top shelf -drill press & electic hand drill -bandsaw. it says black & decker on it. i trust it to explode his horrible garage for a workspace -an excess number of power strips and excess number of shit plugged in them -gamecube. 2 controller <-should have made this a gameclam in hindsight. imagine if he had like a fucking ATM in his room. -crttv -function generator & multimeter. oscilloscope, aptly named othello-scope (he painted the text on it himself). he loves to make goofy slide whistle sounds with the function generator -chicken wire LOL idk what he'd use it for. caging in his siblings. -several 2x4s, one of which has a bunch of nails stuck in it haphazardly -one of those cylinder telescopes -bike -fume hood + beakers on top of it. because donnie makes his lab a hazardous environment -he's also got a meowchi on his desk (miau) & an empty smoothie cup, plus a spiral bounded page of notes ("ahh molcar" and "vanilla extract" written down)

and then the comic is from one of snapscube's realtime sonic fandubs

[a-witches-riddle]

Little Life Update

Hey y’all, I don’t typically post things like this, in general I’m pretty private about my, well, private life… as is with someone who at this point I’d say has a small yet sizable platform here. And I know that most of y’all followed me here for my original posts and (typically) horny content, which I’ve been definitely slacking on. Honestly I could make excuses for why I haven’t been posting, but honestly I’m just really sorry. I know some of y’all, especially my more active followers, follow me for my content and whatever small effect I have on your daily experiences, and I really am sorry for letting you all down.

The past few months for me has been a turbulent series of hells for me, never really seeming to cease, and it’s been making even existing in a basic manner in a lot of cases especially difficult. I’ve burned myself out on work, the election results put me in a terrible headspace, and in general I’ve had a lot of stressful life things happen that I’d rather not go into detail here.

Just, to the people that have stuck by this account, and stuck by my posts, I genuinely thank you, and I really am sorry for not being as original or creative as I used to be. I hope that soon, maybe, I can get back to being the account a lot of y’all followed me for.

I love all of y’all <3

[wheelie-sick]

the thing about my choice not to vote is that this is not coming from a pattern of not voting. I have voted in every single election I could since the day I turned 18. I was so excited for my 18th birthday to feel like I had some tiny semblance of power over the government. I looked forward to voting in the next presidential election! but now I'm here and I'm stuck in a situation where voting means that I vote for a genocide enthusiast. I'm stuck in a situation where if Harris wins it will reaffirm that blue no matter who works, that the democrats can swing as right as they want and keep their votes. and I just.... I can't, I can't do that. it eats me up at night because I don't know the right answer. I don't want Trump, but Harris is such an incredibly morally bankrupt person to vote for. Harris winning will only push the democrats further right. they will become Trump too.

I don't want to say "fuck it, I hope she loses!" because of the alternative option but I so passionately want her to fail. I want her to come to the harsh realization that her enthusiasm for genocide cost her an election. I want her to come to the harsh realization that her enthusiasm for increased border violence and deportations, her enthusiasm for pipelines on Native land, her enthusiasm for increasing prison populations, her enthusiasm for everything the left stands against cost her the election. I want her and every democrat that follows to realize we are no longer playing blue no matter who because this is not just about her. this is about every single future democratic candidate who will be forced to comply with what constituents actually want and stand for.

we tried with the uncommitted movement and she did not budge. she has said that she doesn't believe she will lose, that when the time comes around people will vote for her. I don't want to give her that satisfaction. I don't want to let her ignore the millions of us screaming for her to listen and to end a fucking genocide that she praises on live television. she will not change in office. people say Trump will treat Gaza worse, but how could things possibly get worse? Biden and Harris are already pouring every tax dollars they can into this genocide.

I don't care if you vote but it better eat you up inside as much as it eats me up inside. you better feel like you are morally bankrupting yourself. you better have it haunt you like my decision haunts me. we are all participants in a system that not only devalues Palestinian life but actively seeks to destroy it. that is the reality of living in the imperial core. there is no way any of us can completely tap out of a life built on the exploitation and destruction of other peoples. do what you think is right to change that but know that every step you take is a step taken on the bones of hundreds of millions of people who are victims of american imperialism

[n1ghtcrwler]

As I have been saying for some years, the United States is a parody of itself, a failed experiment that became a heretical movement along the way. I wrote a post way back in the early days of this blog warning that the United States was at a stage in development where we would have to choose the type of maturity we would have as a nation, and we were choosing the wrong path by basing our decision on fear. I'll try to find it and reblog it after this post goes up.

I mean that last bit specifically as a Christian heresy; the United States has positioned itself as a core religious structure, canonized its founders, and elevated its military and police to a sort of priesthood, all while using Christian imagery and terminology to do so. This is why I refuse things like pledging to the flag or standing up for the national anthem, and have encouraged my children to do the same at school. I take my Christian faith too seriously to play at mixing it like this.

Anyway, the experiment, as stated, was simple. A nation in which the power was vested in the people, and expressed through elected officials, for the betterment of society. It was flawed from the beginning, not least in that the original framing of the experiment delineated which people had power vested in them and which didn't, which goes against the entire point; but at least there was a system of correcting that to some degree. Which is insufficient, but better than nothing. Other nations picked up the basic idea, and began their own versions of the experiment. Most of them did so much better than the USA did. And, oddly enough, we refused to learn from those successes, and insisted not only that our iteration of the experiment was adequate for the task, but that it was actually the best iteration, despite all available evidence to the contrary.

Having persisted in this mindset, established the nation as sacred, and forming an identity built on fear, we have for some time now been stuck with a government that is incapable of accomplishing anything of value, having only a capacity to cause harm to others with any efficiency, in which one party (the GOP) is actively trying to destroy what little of worth remains for this nation and the only viable alternative (the Democrats) lacks the political will to do anything about it. I don't believe that they are actually working together in any real, conspiratorial sense, as is generally suggested by people who highlight the ways the DNC will bend backwards to negotiate and play nice with the GOP; I think the DNC is just so afraid of what would happen if they lose all power that they're unwilling to make big risky changes using whatever power they have. Because we are a nation built on fear, and the DNC is, by necessity, a party built on unified fear of the GOP's ideology, rather than a party with a true ideology of its own.

Where was I?

What we are seeing now is not the beginning of the end. That happened a long time ago. What we are seeing now is the end. The battle is not lost, but we have run out of ways to win using the existing model. If this is going to be a nation worth anything at all to the people in it, if we are going to see the USA become a place where anything good can be accomplished, it will require a new tactic. I don't mean abandoning voting; voting is a necessary part of this. But once the votes are cast, if the power of the GOP is mitigated, the DNC must be held accountable to set goals and throw real effort into accomplishing those goals. It must become an ideological party and not just a passive safeguard.

Make no mistake. I do not generally support the DNC. I have never been enrolled as a Democrat and I have historically voted for third parties rather than support a Democratic candidate. I'm not saying this because I think the ideology of the DNC would necessarily align with mine on most topics. I'm saying this because I don't think some of you know what you're up against. I don't think some of you realize what is happening outside of your optimistic leftist spaces. There are, undoubtedly, people who will vote for Trump because they are ignorant of what that vote means for the future of this country. And there are people who will vote for Trump because they are fully on board with the destruction of America and the establishment of a monarchy in all but name. But the vast majority of people who are voting red this November are not interested in any of that. In my experience, the most common stance is that there is one or two things they want, absolutely want, and they will pay any price to get it. They aren't interested in knowing or thinking about the cost. The nation can be thrown under the bus. The world can burn. YOU can burn. As long as they won the policy they wanted. They will not consider any price too high until it burns them, too.

I am not telling you this to make you afraid. Do not ground this work in fear. Be strategic. Don't do this because you're afraid of what will happen if you don't, do it because you see the direction you know we need to go and you're willing to put effort into pushing in that direction. Because jokes about Trump are fun and cute, but they do not stop anyone still planning to vote for him today. Pointing out the dangers of another Trump presidency does not give them pause. They do not believe the decisions by the Supreme Court are bad things yet, and they won't before January. The plan needs to be better than this. You need to work. You need to stop this endless internal bickering about a perfect solution, put people in office who will actually keep the GOP for accumulating more power, and then bully those people into doing their jobs and getting valuable work done. The nation will be on life support until the GOP is broken or given the chance to kill it. Don't play nice with that. Don't ever let anyone play nice with that again.

[jewishbarbies]

https://www.tumblr.com/jewishbarbies/768080310343778304/gotta-admit-bernie-sanders-is-getting-ridiculously?source=share

Bernie been pissing me off too but I ain’t wanna say it coz people get real protective of that old ass man nowadays, as if he’s their lord and saviour. Did the Dems do him wrong in 2016/20? Yeah, sure whatever. But Bernie has NEVER BEEN POPULAR BECAUSE HE IS RADICAL. The demographics that vote the most are old people and middle aged people and Bernie ain’t never been popular to those demographics. Maybe now, in the age of radicalism, but not in ‘16 and definitely not in ‘20. He keep acting like he would be the saving grace of America, but he forgets that he failed to capture the support from southerners, especially southern black folk. And it ain’t coz he Jewish, it’s because he has no fucking charisma at all and came off as a stuck up northerner and talking down on people. They’re gonna tell you it’s because black voters are more conservative, but it’s more complicated than that. The Clintons put in the work over the last thirty years and were actual active members of the Democratic Party. Bernie was not an active Democrat for most of his career and served a constituency of mostly white people in Vermont. Add on top of that the endorsements of Clinton by local black leaders, and Bernie Sanders never stood a chance. Also, black voters aren’t afraid of social spending, but Bernie’s specific type of social spending is more appealing to middle income to affluent college students. He had the wrong message and the wrong institutional bonafides. But people gon say it’s coz “black democrats are more conservative than white democrats” THAT AINT THE TRUTH AND YOU KNOW IT. BERNIE JUST FAILED.

But in terms of him talking shit bout the Dems and Kamala nowadays, he been pissing me off because he truly doesn’t get the real problem here. He doesn’t get that he himself aided towards the Dems losing the election.

One thing I will say is that the republicans won because they vote red no matter WHAT. No matter how outlandish their politics are, they vote as a united front, which dem voters didn’t. And radicalism aided towards that. One issue voters aided towards that. All of that shit is shit that Bernie himself largely contributed towards. And now he wanna act all high and mighty, get your old ass outta politics and go play golf. And take McConnell with you.

He keeps pushing radicalism and he doesn’t seem to get that radicalism on either side is what’s destroying this fucking country. Radical right wingers are everybody, but so is radical leftism. Does he not see how radical leftism is harming black and Jewish folk? The two demographics that vote Dem overwhelmingly because we know what’s at stake if we don’t? Maybe he sees it and doesn’t care, idk. “They’re not radical enough” WE DONT NEED RADICALISM.

The way he be talking about Kamala and the Dems on the podcasts and shit, it’s like he wanted them to lose to “prove a point”. And that shit pisses me off. Because at the end of the day, Bernie’s an old, rich, white (or white passing Jewish) guy. Project 2025 and all ain’t gonna affect him like the way it’ll affect us. He’s old as shit. He won’t be here much longer. And he rich too. He ain’t gonna suffer from the tariffs and shit like we will. So for him to act like this knowing how much pull he got… idk man. Shit pisses me off.

Sorry for the rant. I’ve just been thinking this for weeks. Bernie been unpopular with voters for a long time and his bitter ass won’t get over losing.

well said.

Bernie did a lot for activism in his life but he’s doing actual harm to the people he claims to be an activist for now. he should just go back to local politics or get out of the game altogether imo.

[stillwintering]

All's Fair in Love and Politics (a modern Nessian AU - where Rhys is running for president)

Summary: In the ruthless arena of politics, victory demands risking everything, even one's own heart. Rhysand has his eyes on the presidency. Feyre convinces her estranged sister, Nesta, to join the political campaign. Nesta and Cassian find themselves forging an unexpected bond as the campaign intensifies. But can their budding romance survive the treacherous waters of modern political warfare?

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Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Cassian spent the rest of his evening at the River House, which had turned into an impromptu campaign headquarters of sorts. After all the official business was settled and Amren had left to take the last flight back to DC, Cassian found himself lingering in the company of Rhys and Azriel. They gathered in Rhys's expansive wood-paneled study for a nightcap.

It had been too long since the three of them had the chance to simply exist together as brothers in arms without the weight of duty or the shadow of danger looming over them.

The day's activities had visibly taken a toll on Rhys, understandable given how many media appearances he completed. By all accounts, the speech had been a resounding success, yet Rhys seemed lost in thought, gazing pensively at the drink in his hand, almost sad.

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet." Cassian's voice broke the silence. He leaned in, trying to catch Rhys's eye, giving him a teasing nudge on the elbow. Azriel, seated in an armchair on Rhys's other side, only observed silently.

Rhys raised his head, a faint smile on his lips, though his eyes remained somber. "Something like that."

Cassian sucked in a breath. "I'm afraid it's too late to turn back now, brother." He held up his crystal glass, the amber liquid inside glinting in the lamplight, before taking a sip. "The horse is out of the barn."

"What if..." Rhys looked away to the moonlit sky out the window of his study and the Sidra sparkling under the stars.

"It will be a tough fight for the nomination and a even tougher fight in the general election." Cassian smiled at him reassuringly. "It's going to be hard and chances are, we'll lose. But no one will fault you for that."

Rhys shook his head, his expression turning resolute. "No, I mean what if I actually win?"

A moment of realization washed over Cassian. "There's no one else I'd trust more with such power and responsibility," he told him.

"I don't trust myself," Rhys murmured, his voice tinged with a vulnerability rare for him.

"I know you." Azriel knocked his knee gently against Rhys's. "You're the one," he stated firmly.

Rhys's gaze drifted away again, his doubts still clinging to him like shadows.

Cassian turned to Azriel. "They say a good man can't get elected President these days," he mused with a half-smile. "I refuse to believe that. Do you, Az?"

"Absolutely not," he responded without hesitation.

"And you think I'm that man?" Rhys interjected, his face still dark, "Does it matter that I'm not as sure?"

"Do you remember that operation outside of Kabul? The one that went sideways real fast?" Cassian reclined back in his armchair, his demeanor thoughtful. "Our first hot zone and we were completely outgunned, stuck in a crossfire with enemy combatants all around. I’ll be honest, I thought we were done for. We were just rookies back then. But you, Rhys, you just took over like you were born to do it. Directing our moves, calling out targets, staying cool under that kind of heat. You got us out of there with zero civilian casualties. It’s a rare thing, Rhys."

Cassian stopped to catch his eye. "I knew from that moment that I would follow you into the Mist of Avalon."

Azriel only chuckled while Rhys let out a dry laugh. "Cass, please, you're the one with the natural aptitude for strategic combat." Rhys waved his hand. "But I do find, somehow, urban warfare easier to navigate than politics."

Cassian raised his glass in a toast, prompting the others to do the same. "To fighting the good fight then," he announced with a wink. "Political or otherwise."

Azriel joined in, his glass meeting theirs with a gentle chime. "To making a difference," he added.

Rhys looked at his friends -- his brothers -- their faces unflinching. "To the future," he said, his eyes clear and focused. "May it be brighter than we dare to hope."

---

By the time Cassian and Azriel returned to the House of the Wind, the inky night had draped its silent shroud over the building. They expected the grand lobby to be completely deserted at this late hour. Yet, to Cassian's wonder, Nesta was there.

Lost in a world of her own, Nesta walked under the dim glow of the ornate chandelier, her figure casting long, fluid shadows across the polished marble floor. From the way she was dressed, it looked like she was about to go on a late-night run.

It wasn't until Cassian stepped into her space, closing the distance to a mere foot, that she snapped out of her thoughts. Her gaze, sharp and piercing, lifted to meet his and then to Azriel's. A flicker of surprise darted across her features before she veiled it with a practiced air of indifference.

"Going on another evening run?" Cassian asked her as a way of greeting.

Nesta's response was terse, her lips pursing slightly as she uttered a succinct "Yes." She looked over the both of them again. "Anything happen at the meeting at the River House?"

"You didn't miss much," Azriel responded. "Amren will send out a memo first thing tomorrow."

Cassian studied her for a beat longer, noting the slight clench of her jaw and the way her eyes darted to the lobby doors. An idea sparked in him.

"If you give me ten minutes," he offered, gesturing towards the elevators with a hopeful tilt of his head, "I can join you."

The words hung in the air, a delicate offer. He saw it then -- the imperceptible stiffening of her posture, ready to refuse. So he quickly added, a playful note in his voice, "I know all the good running routes around here."

Nesta hesitated, but her expression wavered. "I would rather run on my own."

"I don't blame you," Azriel teased, unable to stop himself. "Cassian is terrible company."

Cassian scowled at his brother. "It's dark out, Nes," he tried again. "Let me come with you."

Nesta looked away to the pitch-blackness that lay outside the lobby doors, calculating. Although Velaris was generally a very safe city, she had never tried to navigate it in the dead of night. Finally, she looked back at him, her expression unreadable.

"Fine," Nesta acquiesced. "Ten minutes."

She gracefully sidestepped, allowing Cassian and Azriel access to the elevators. She then glided to a nearby sofa, settling into its plush cushions to wait.

Cassian burst into the elevator and jabbed at the buttons for their respective floors, his foot tapping impatiently. Azriel leaned back against the elevator wall, his arms folded casually across his chest, with a mischievous grin on his lips as he observed Cassian's barely veiled agitation.

"Easy there, big guy," he remarked affectionately. "She's not going to disappear."

Cassian shot him a quick, frustrated glance. "I just don't want to keep her waiting longer than necessary," he muttered.

"Oh, is that so?" Azriel's eyebrow arched in amusement. "Or could it be that you're just eager to spend time with her under the starry sky?"

As the elevator finally dinged at Cassian's floor, he practically leaped out. "You don't know what you're talking about, Az," he retorted over his shoulder.

Azriel laughed, shaking his head as the elevator doors slid shut. "Good luck!" he called after Cassian.

---

Cassian led the way, his stride confident and familiar as they ran up the winding road that hugged the contours of the mountain behind the House of the Wind. The path, bathed in the soft glow of well-placed lights, carved a serpentine trail through the dense pine forest and upwards into the heart of the mountainside. A delicate mist had descended, settling into the treetops like cobwebs.

"There's a lookout a few miles up with an amazing view of the city," Cassian said, his voice a gentle rumble in the quiet night.

Nesta only nodded, allowing him to set a moderate pace. The scent of pine and earth filled her senses, and she found herself leaning into the night air, into his steadfast strength beside her.

Their heavy breaths, synchronized and rhythmic, filled the silent space between them.

As they ascended, the forest around them began to change. The trees grew taller, their branches interlocking above to create a natural cathedral, their needles whispering secrets. She let all the noise of her mind recede into the thickening mist, let it wrap around her like a soothing embrace.

When they finally reached the lookout, Nesta stopped, her breath labored from the climb, and gazed out at the glittering city below, beyond the mist of the forest, sprawled like a jeweled tapestry, the lights flickering like distant stars caught in an earthly web. The world seemed to pause -- the only sounds were their heartbeats and the distant hum of Velaris.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

Cassian turned towards her, his expression soft yet intense. His hazel eyes, reflecting the city's lights, narrowed on Nesta as if she were the only object in this vast, sparkling expanse. "Yes," he breathed.

Nesta could feel the blood rushing through her head. A breeze tousled Cassian's hair, setting it dancing wild under the silver glow of the moon.

"Tell me why you're here," Nesta asked, her words floating on the night air.

He bowed his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Tell me why you left a promising military career to work on a long shot political campaign."

He studied her face intently, sensing the urgency in her question. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Because I care about who gets to be in the room where it happens," he finally said.

Nesta's brow furrowed, her eyes searching his for more.

"I was a good soldier," Cassian continued. "But in the military, I was a cog in the machine. Being on the ground, seeing the consequences of following orders... it changes you."

He paused, his gaze growing distant. Cassian remembered his lover during the war -- Tanwyn, with a smile like a storm, who was a surgeon with Doctors Without Borders. She chose to work at a hospital in the middle of a conflict zone and chose to stay even when the town came under siege. After the bombing started, Cassian disputed his commander's decision to engage the enemy so close to a civilian-occupied area. When that went nowhere, he had begged, begged her to get to safety. But Tanwyn had refused, "I didn't go through 14 years of medical training to abandon my patients." Her last words to him.

It took Cassian a very long time to get over her death.

He cleared his throat and looked away.

"I've experienced the fallout of strategic miscalculations, witnessed the collateral damage of executive decisions made in far-off offices," Cassian concluded. "No more senseless wars. That's why I'm here."

Nesta listened, absorbing his words. She tried to understand the rollercoaster of emotions that had swept through his face.

"And you think Rhysand Starborn is the right person to be in the room where it happens?"

Cassian gave her a wry grin. "Funny you should ask."

"Why?"

He dismissed the moment with a shake of his head.

When he faced her again, Cassian's expression was one of unwavering conviction. "I am certain he is the right person for the job."

Nesta took a long moment to study him, taking in the firm set of his jaw and the gentle curves of his lips -- the lines crinkling around his eyes seemed to tell stories of bravery and compassion.

"Okay," she said at last, as though settling an internal debate.

"Okay?"

Nesta nodded, this time with a certainty that seemed to anchor her. "Yes, okay," she repeated, giving him an assured smile.

They stood together for a moment longer, time seemingly stretching out as they surveyed the panoramic view of Velaris. The night breeze caressed Nesta's skin and sent a shiver down her spine as her body cooled from their earlier ascent to the overlook.

"Shall we head back?" she suggested, her arms instinctively wrapping around herself for warmth.

Cassian agreed with a dip of his chin, but his curiosity piqued. "These evening runs of yours, are they a regular thing?"

Nesta hesitated, her words tangling slightly. "Yes -- no, well, sort of. I'm actually training for the National Women's Half Marathon," she clarified. "I've committed to running it with some friends."

"If you want, I could help -- I could train with you."

Nesta mulled over his offer again, the sincerity in his voice apparent. "That might be nice," she said, giving in to the tug in her heart. "I'll let you know when I'm planning my next run."

Cassian's answering smile was so bright, so full of warmth, that Nesta felt momentarily dazed -- a radiance that rivaled the moon above.

"Come on then." He turned from the outlook, and Nesta followed, falling into step beside him as they began their descent.

---

Nesta inhaled deeply, trying to stifle the swell of emotions in her chest. She stood on the meticulously groomed lawns of the River House, where Feyre was hosting a luncheon for the League of Women Voters of Velaris.

In front of her, the Starborn's grand conservatory was bustling with guests -- their conversations a steady buzz against the clinking of fine china. The large glass structure was situated in the back of the house, hidden from view from the street. Sunlight poured in through the expansive glass panels, bathing the interior space in a golden, dappled light. The conservatory itself was an oasis of botanical beauty, brimming with an array of vibrant flowers and delicate greenery. Nesta knew immediately that Elain must love it here.

Feyre weaved through the crowd with grace and charm, playing the part of hostess perfectly, but Nesta knew her sister was still adjusting to the relentless glare of the public eye. That was why she agreed to drop into the luncheon to make sure that the reporter the local paper sent to cover the event was on their best behavior.

Nesta had never been to the River House before. Every Christmas, a perfunctory invitation to visit from Feyre would arrive, and each time, Nesta found a convenient excuse to decline, preferring to maintain a distance from the life that Feyre had carved out for herself. Standing before the River House, with its stately charm and the Sidra flowing majestically in the background, Nesta couldn't help but feel a pang of regret mingled with a deep urge to flee.

When Feyre's eyes found hers through the glass panels, Feyre's relief was evident as she beckoned Nesta inside.

"I'm so glad you're here," Feyre murmured.

Nesta, feeling a rare surge of sisterly affection, reached out and gave Feyre's hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're doing great," she offered, her voice softer than usual.

Feyre's smile wavered. "I've been so nervous about this event," she confessed. "And talking to that reporter later. I've never done any press without Rhys before."

"I've already vetted the interview questions. There won't be any curveballs," Nesta reassured her. "It's a simple society piece for the local paper, nothing too intense. Just steer clear of any policy talk. You'll be fine."

Feyre bit her lip. "Can you stay until after I talk to the reporter?"

"Of course, I'll stay."

With a nod of gratitude, Feyre turned and glided gracefully back to mingling with her guests.

Left to herself, Nesta pulled out her phone to go through the emails that inevitably crowd her inbox. She glanced around and noticed a large door that led into the quieter recesses of the River House. The luncheon was in full swing, but she couldn't find it in herself to work the room the way Feyre or Rhys would.

Nesta crossed the threshold, finding herself in a peaceful hallway. She took in the grand space around her: the high ceiling, intricate moldings, and silk curtains framing the windows. As she looked down the corridor, her eyes followed the row of oil paintings lining the walls. Something about them seemed deeply familiar -- the impressionistic brushwork and open, airy compositions bore the unmistakable touch of Feyre's hand.

Nesta made her way down the hallway, her steps soft and nearly silent on the plush carpet, looking for a quiet space away from the party to focus on her inbox. Eventually, she found herself in a cozy sitting room, its wide walls lined with books.

Her eyes immediately fell to the shelves full of framed photographs. Nesta stepped closer to study the pictures.

There were several of Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian together, chronicling different chapters of their lives -- from their college days to their military service to ski trips that appeared suspiciously like snowball fights.

In each image, Cassian's smile was wide and unrestrained, his arms invariably slung around his brothers, his hair noticeably longer in his younger years. Azriel, by contrast, looked stern, though his eyes were warm. Rhys appeared relaxed and completely at ease among his friends and family -- a side of him she had never witnessed.

There were photos of Mor exuding her usual glamour and confidence. In one snapshot, Mor stood between Azriel and Cassian. They were dressed to the nines. Azriel looked at Mor with something like total adoration on his face, while Mor was laughing with her head thrown back, leaning into Cassian. But Cassian was grinning at the camera.

An old photograph tucked in the back was of the Starborns -- Rhys's father and mother. Beside it was a portrait of Rhys's mother sitting by the fire on what looked like Christmas morning.

Then Nesta recognized an image that must have been taken the night Rhys had first won his congressional seat -- even Amren was smiling in that one. Feyre, joyous, was in the middle of leaning into a hug from Rhys. He looked only at Feyre even as the dozen faces in the photos were turned towards him.

Scattered in between the memories of their "inner circle" were many photos chronicling Nyx's young life -- a teary-eyed Rhys holding an ultrasound with Feyre behind him; a portrait of Feyre with a swollen belly; Feyre holding Nyx for the first time on a hospital bed with Rhys next to her; Rhys lifting a toddler Nyx into the air. There was a blurry image of Nyx at his third birthday party, white frosting all over his face, with Cassian and Mor fussing over him and Azriel standing to the side laughing, clumps of frosting in his dark hair.

The most recent photo was one of Elain and Nyx together, surrounded by flowers in a field.

Nesta felt her pulse quicken in dread. These photographs were windows into the vibrant life Feyre had lived, yet, Nesta found no trace of herself in these frozen moments.

Finally, she noticed a large photo in a corner -- Feyre was wearing a simple white slip-dress, her arms interlocked with Rhys, dashing in a blue linen suit. They were standing barefoot on a beach, waves crashing behind them. Feyre held a large bouquet of hydrangeas and roses in her other hand. Surrounding the smiling couple on either side were Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and Amren. They were all beaming, although Mor had clearly been crying. It was plainly a wedding photo.

It suddenly struck Nesta that there were no images from the grand Velrais wedding at the House of the Wind. Rather just another portrait of Feyre and Rhys -- taken on the same day on the beach -- looking adoringly at each other. Their hands were joined, prominently displaying their golden wedding bands.

Nesta realized that she hadn’t encountered Cassian, Azriel, or Mor at the ceremony she attended. She was certain she would have remembered someone like Cassian with his distinct presence. The Velaris wedding was a formal event attended by hundreds of guests, a high-society wedding. But the pictures on the shelf displayed a private, intimate celebration for only those closest to the couple.

She didn't know how much time had passed as she stood there, taking in the evidence of the chasm that had grown between her and her sister. The pictures showcased a version of Feyre's life that Nesta had never been part of, a narrative woven from experiences and bonds she hadn’t shared.

Nesta felt like a stranger looking in, witnessing a parallel world where laughter and joy flowed freely, a stark contrast to the guardedness that marked her own interactions with Feyre.

"Aunt Nesta!" A child's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

Nesta turned swiftly at the call. "Nyx?" she asked in surprise, her eyes landing on her young nephew. His round cheeks were just visible as he peered around the edge of a nearby armchair.

"Hi Nesta." Elain emerged behind him with Mr. Carrot in tow.

Nesta felt every muscle in her body tense. "Hi Elain," she returned, keeping her voice neutral.

"Feyre mentioned you might drop by today." Elain smoothed her skirts, almost nervous, but smiled tentatively. "I hear things are going well with the campaign."

Nesta bristled at the comments. She hated that her sisters seemed to treat her like a problem to be handled -- managed.

"The campaign is going as expected," she replied curtly.

Elain hesitated, her lips parting as if to say more, but her gaze shifted to Nyx. "Are you hungry, dear?" she asked him softly.

Nyx, his attention still fixed on Nesta, shook his head, his curiosity about his aunt undiminished.

Feeling the need to escape the conversation, Nesta made a move to leave. "I should get back to -- "

"Nesta, wait," Elain interjected quickly, her expression turning earnest. "Won't you stay for tea? It's been a while since we all sat down together." Her hand dropped to rest on Nyx's shoulder. "We really should catch up."

Nesta's eyes swept the room -- this house with its layers of memories, the shelves lined with snapshots that narrated a life where everyone was content, perhaps even better off, in her absence.

With a dry chuckle, Nesta gestured at their surroundings. "I think I'm all caught up, thanks."

Elain's expression faltered. "Nesta, that's not fair," she said as a flicker of hurt crossed her features. “I’m sorry I never got around to returning your calls. But -- ”

Nesta's gaze hardened. "Are you?" she countered, her voice low but sharp. "Everyone here seems quite happy have their entire lives subsumed by Rhysand Starborn."

Elain frowned. "Please Nesta, it's not like that," she began, but Nesta cut her off.

"I can't have this conversation right now." Nesta turned towards the hallway, her movements brisk.

She needed space, air -- something to clear the tightness building in her chest.

"Where is Aunt Nesta going?" She heard Nyx ask behind her.

But Nesta didn't stop. She looked for the nearest exit -- a pair of French doors that took her back onto the house's sweeping lawns.

She walked towards the water's edge, taking in the midday light, calming her thundering heart. She did not understand herself, why she couldn't bear the hurt in Elain's eyes, why she always felt the need to retreat into herself whenever her sisters were around.

---

Eventually, Nesta took the long way around the grounds of the River House, back towards the conservatory. Feyre was already speaking with a young female reporter when Nesta found them sitting on a pair of Adirondack chairs on the crest of a gentle hill overlooking the Sidra.

She gave them some space as they finished the interview.

"We corresponded over email earlier," Nesta said as she introduced herself to the reporter, reaching out to shake her outreached hand.

The young woman beamed in recognition. "Ms. Archeron," she said.

"Do you have everything you need?"

The reporter nodded. "It's been an absolute pleasure, Mrs. Starborn," she said to Feyre, putting away her voice recorder.

"Do you mind sending us a copy of the story before it goes to print?" Nesta asked.

The reporter's smile never faltered. "Of course," she replied and picked up her bag. "Someone from the paper may reach out later for fact checking."

"You have my contact information," Nesta answered as the reporter shook Feyre's hand goodbye.

When they were alone, Nesta asked, "How did it go?"

"Fine, I think," Feyre replied, her voice wary. "I am just relieved it's over."

"Don't worry," Nesta said. "We'll get a chance to correct the article before it comes out."

Feyre reclined in her chair. "Can you sit with me for a while?"

Nesta flinched. "Feyre," she answered, feeling the tightness building in her chest again. "I have to get back to work."

Feyre looked up at her, her blue-gray eyes shuttered. "Oh," she breathed. "Of course. Sorry to keep you," her voice turning oddly formal, "Thank you for coming today."

---

Nesta threw herself into her work for the rest of the afternoon, finding a quiet refuge in the familiar demands of her tasks. By the time she returned to the House of the Wind, the sun was a fiery orb hovering low in the sky. The majestic sight of the House, silhouetted against the orange and pink sky, was strangely comforting. But the solitude that awaited her in her room felt overwhelming -- for the first time that day, she did not want to be alone.

She stopped at the front desk to ask for Cassian's room number. With a kind of new-found courage, Nesta took the elevator to his floor.

Cassian opened the door on her third knock.

"Azriel, I thought --," he began, before his voice trailed off, his eyes widening at the unexpected sight of Nesta standing before him.

"Hey," she said, taking him in. Cassian's crisp white dress shirt was casually half unbuttoned, giving a glimpse of the defined muscles of his chest and the intricate whorls of black tattoos that contrasted against his golden skin.

Cassian quickly recovered from his initial shock. "Nesta, I wasn't expecting you," he said, holding his door open wider. "What can I do you for?"

Nesta immediately felt the knot in her chest loosen at the humor in his voice. His eyes were studying her gently. The corners of her lips twitched upwards.

"Run with me?"

---

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Tag list: @acourtofladydeath @fwiggle @swifti-ed

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[kheta]

Todoroki Trauma Rant

The thing is. Fuyumi and Touya are the only ones who had an existence in which Enji cared for his kids. As much as Dabi angsts about Shouto replacing him, Enji never replaced Touya. Neglected him, failed to listen or understand him? Yeah, 100%. But Shouto never received any of the love that Touya and Fuyumi did and this is why their reaction to the abuse that the siblings suffered through are so different to Natsuo and Shouto's.

Like Natsuo does not believe, trust or care for Endeavour's redemption. He might have heard stories and caught glimpses of Enji being something of a father, but Enji has never been Natsuo's dad. So he's angry and upset, but he's not wanting anything from Endeavour. He wants him to leave, he doesn't believe any of the apology bullshit. Because seeing those old happy memories, believing in that opportunity? That has only ever hurt Natsuo, so he elects to stop caring at all.

And Shouto, he wants to believe in the possibility of a dad. But he doesn't. He can't trust it, because he's never had one and all Enji has given him is trauma.

Touya and Fuyumi got all that trauma and the added benefits of seeing their dad turn into their abuser.

So Dabi doesn't forgive his father and he shatters, because his father once loved him. Once was his hero and inspiration and the only person he connected to. Once upon a time Touya looked at his dad and thought, I want to be like him. And then, I want to make him proud. He was Enji's world and he knew it. Which is why he felt so fucked up over Enji ditching him. Because this isn't Dabi being like Shouto and thinking somewhere in there is a good dad. This is Touya knowing that once Enji loved him like a dad should and now, he gets absolutely nothing but disappointment from his dad. A lot of his anger is rooted in the fact that once upon a time, he thought his dad was a good person and instead of proving him right, Endeavour gave up. Walked away from the broken mess of his son and showed him that heroes aren't real. And the only lessons he had learnt from his father were burnt and stained in disappointment. So he rages and burns and shows the world what that disappointment has made of him.

And Fuyumi holds onto the curls of hope that she once knew. Clings to the possibility of a dad and a happy family, because once upon a time she had that. And things might be bad now, but hey were once good. And they can be fixed and good again, can't they??? Because Fuyumi needs to fix things. Because Fuyumi was raised with love, however fleeting it was. So she needs to believe in the chance for change, even if she keeps getting burnt. Because if she doesn’t stay. If she doesn’t fix this, who will? Her traumatised mother or her dead older brother? Who will look after her younger brothers if not her?

For her, it would hurt more to give up on her dad, to believe he is irredeemable, because that means that the love he once showed her, the care and patience Enji once had? None of that was real. It means she isn't just learning that her dad is her abuser, she's learning that all the examples she had for love growing up is wrong. It's pretty simple for her to accept her dad's fucked up but he can get better; she cannot accept that her dad fucked up and nothing he can do will change the shit he's already fucked up. He can't change the past. He might be able to be a better dad going forward, but she wants to pretend that she can just like–blank out the years he was an asshole. As if she can flip the script and live in a time where there was no before or after abuse. Both of them are still stuck in their trauma, Fuyumi actively keeping herself in her trauma cycle, unwilling to really process how bad things got, keeping herself stuck in a pretty hopeless cycle of hurt feelings when they can't just turn back the clock. And Dabi poking at his trauma like an unhealed wound, understanding how bad their (his especially) trauma with Endeavour is but not allowing himself to process the past beyond stewing in his own rage. Neither are processing it, are healing from it. Both are stuck there and it fucking rots them. Shouto and Natsuo, while still affected by their own trauma with their family, have created conditions in which they can heal and grow from it. Natsuo cuts off his abuser (as much as you can while still depending on them for basic survival needs anyways) and lives in his own way regardless of his dads expectations. Shouto offers the chance for Endeavour to change, but has started to actively puts his own feelings, comfort and physical safety first. Because as much as all the Todoroki siblings grew up experiencing the same cycle of violence, the lessons they learned because of it and how they cope with it are vastly different. Idk man, so very many feelings on this topic.

[starfragment1979]

I've been working on that fanfic, the one that was supposed to be fluff-n-smut, but the more I write the more plot starts creeping in, and just a liiitle bit of conflict. I was telling my spouse about this, and they joked that I just can't stop myself from writing a well rounded story, ha.

It's also turning out to be longer than I had anticipated, because of course it is. I had four scenes in mind, and I was going to post them as separate chapters just for ease of reading, but I was also going to post the whole thing at once because I didn't think it would be that long. But I just finished chapter one last week and it's 10k words, and if each chapter plays out the same way, 40k is kind of a lot of fluff-n-smut with some bonus plot and conflict. I'll probably still post it all at once, though, once it's done.

But, oh, friends, it is going so slow. I have been struggling with health stuff since early November... I thought at first it was just election stress, but after a while I started assuming I must've somehow gotten sick with a virus. My normal, everyday symptoms for years now include things like body aches and fatigue and sore throat and congestion and shortness of breath etc etc etc, which means it's so hard to tell the difference between just another flare up and being sick with something new, so I never even thought to test for covid until it was too late. I guess it doesn't matter now.

But I have been stuck in bed all day and exhausted and in pain and either not sleeping or sleeping like the dead and having nightmares every night and my brain is so sludgy that it takes superhuman strength to wrestle words out of it. Like it takes me fifteen minutes to write a sentence and then when I reread it I realized I already used half the words in the previous paragraph which I wrote the day before. I do have random better days where writing comes a little easier, and the story itself is clear in my head, I'm just struggling to find the words to convey it. But this one is gonna need some more substantial line editing when I'm all done writing, I think.

And just to be clear, I am writing these stories for myself. Like I do absolutely love the kudos and comments and the occasional Tumblr post or whatever, and I'll admit to regularly refreshing my stats page to see if I got more hits. But if I was just in this for the accolades, I'd go find a more active fandom.

I'm writing these stories because I love the characters and the lives and the world I've created for them. But also the act of writing itself is so vital to me feeling like a human being, and especially now as I'm increasingly bedbound and can't really access visual arts or craft projects, writing is one of the only ways I can practice creativity. I have lost so much to this illness, and I don't want to lose writing and stories and art, too, even if it's a struggle, even if I'm using more energy than I can afford to do it.

I don't know how to express how vital writing and creativity is to my mental health without this whole post coming across as a pity party. Every now and then, when I'm having a bad day or a string of bad days, I'll start to think, "Maybe this should be my last story, maybe I shouldn't be doing this anymore." But I don't like to think about what my life would be like without writing, and I don't want to lose that last little shred of humanity.

And whenever I start to think I should quit, I also wind up thinking up another story I want to write, and I wind up wanting it badly enough that I decide to keep going for just one more story. And then one more. And on it goes.

I've actually got the next story I want to write fully fleshed out in my head, like scene-for-scene, a lot of the prose and dialogue clear in my mind. It'll be a one shot where Flick has a medical issue, panics about it, and CJ helps take care of him. (I know, I know... it's not my exact medical issues, but there probably is some projecting going on here, lol.) And it's all so clear in my head that I'm tempted to take a break from my current story and write that one instead, to strike while the iron is hot, because maybe it's also easier for me to write angst than it is to write sex, ha. But I also think it's probably better for me to save it for later, so that I have some future plans and something to look forward to, to use my own stories as a life raft for myself.