#its actually so exhausting

[aranock]

Fucking begging supposedly leftist people to stop being sanist while trying to advocate for marginalized groups or talking about politics. Being bigoted in one way isnt helping combat other forms of bigotry or helping you to fight against fascism and other harmful ideologies. For example, when you call all transphobes/terfs etc "insane/crazy/psycho" etc you are not helping me as a mentally ill trans woman, you are just being bigoted to me in a different way. You are also validating the sanism that a lot of those exact people believe in.

Viewing bigotry, hate, terrible ideology and all things you deem bad in the world as synonimous with people like me is just hatred. You are part of the problem. Using denigrating terms for people like me as equivalent to those persecuting me is not fucking helpful.

Y'all can understand how someone who calls everything they view as bad "gay" is homophobic but then can't seem to piece together that calling everything you view as bad "crazy/insane etc" is sanism. Hint if you view a marginalized group as synonimous with everything wrong in the world you're a bigot too.

I am just so so so sick of how obvious it is that most of you see people like me as the embodiment of evil. You need to accept that sane people like you are just as capable of terrible acts and beliefs, above and beyond that you are going to have to reconcile with the reality that the vast VAST VAST majority of bigots are "sane" like you. That the vast majority of violence done in this world is done by sane people. I get that sanism is your emotional support bigotry that helps you sleep at night, because you get to Sit there going "I cant do and believe terrible things, I'm not "insane" like those bigots and fascists. I have the essentially good brain, unlike these evil bad brain people." but from where I'm standing your sanism is dangerous to me just like the people you're incorrectly calling crazy are, and you need to take a long look in the mirror and start deconstructing that. Because until you do, you are no ally, accomplice, or safe person for me. Big fucking hint those people you are decrying hate people like me and say the same shit about everyone they dislike that you do. Centrists and neoliberals and bigots and conservatives and fascists are not terrible because they're insane or crazy or whatever diagnosis term you're incorrectly throwing around this week, they are terrible because of their beliefs and because of how they seize and use power.

If you have ever agreed with something I've said you have agreed with a crazy person. If that sentence makes you uncomfortable or squeamish you need to unpack where that comes from or you are going to keep hurting marginalized people like me.

Just thoughts from one of those scary insane people you spend so much time ostracizing and demonizing.

[bixels]

In the past, people in the Animal Crossing community would make fun of Tom Nook as a sleazy landlord. Since then, he's really rehabilitated his image as this 'heart of gold' businessman (he's the one who puts bells and furniture in trees for you to find! he adopted orphans! he donates to charity!), but New Horizons genuinely paints the most devious version of him.

He's successfully privatized settler colonialism: you pay HIM to move to a "deserted island" (which apparently the oceans in the AC world are just full of) and start a colony that he is directly invested in. At best he's running a weird vacation package scam (you arrive on the island with no money and in debt for "using his services"). At worst, he's using you to set up company towns. For god's sake, he literally has his own fake currency that he forces you to use to pay off your debt. But don't worry, he's repackaged it in a way that definitely doesn't sound like an MLM scam: the Nook Mileage Program!

You're no longer just his tenant or his temporary part-timer, you're his business lackey. The entire tutorial section of the game has you spending actual weeks running around completing tasks and doing hard labor to set up his colony. You're even tasked with preparing his properties and finding buyers for them. No, you aren't a tenant anymore. You work for the landlord. You are directly responsible for finding tenants for him. And he doesn't even fucking pay you. Not for setting up town hall and museum, or his nephew's shop –– which is the ONLY store on the entire island that sells necessities –– or bringing KK Slider to town, or helping populate his town. Not a single cent. No, actually, you have to pay HIM to BUY infrastructure like bridges and stairs and park benches. And all the while, he's telling you're the "resident representative"; you get to call the shots! That the reward is the community's progress. That what you're doing is in everyone's best interest (but most importantly, his).

Since NH's release, people have done a lot of legwork to say that Tom Nook isn't a capitalist while the game shows him at his very worst. He owns the only general store in town. You're forced to use a phone that he modified and branded as his own. Buy Nook-branded furniture and merchandise at the self-serve kiosk in the town hall, a governmental building! There's no conflict of interest here!

But hey, if you're tired of being the landlord/business mogul's goon, you can also find work as a deluxe resort home designer for a company that also pays you in their special company currency that can only be used to buy their products instead of a real salary! Because that's what the Animal Crossing franchise needs! More vacation homes!!!

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[wu-does-art]

coming out as a "Will snores obnoxiously loud" and "Nico breaths so quietly you can barely tell hes alive" truther

[sharpestlives-mp3]

just. ugh. youll say “i am experiencing something that is a literal textbook symptom of the disorder i have” and nts will tell you youre making it up and its obviously not a real thing

[llemon-soda]

give me something to believe

[torantuga]

sm dumb little sketch of mkulia i did 2day on my phone bcs im on a trip.........

[auxwired]

this AI is pretty weird! alt under cut

these r the og colors but i shifted it a bit to match the . background :3

[ribbononline]

frye fits i might as well share since i doubt ill do anything w em

[jackwhiteprophetic]

Guys sometimes I joke about the 9-1-1 Christmas elf and then remember I have literally worked as a Christmas elf for two years in a row (and counting probably). I need to start telling potentially gay people their families are beautiful.

[c-kiddo]

was worried parts of cr2 would not hold up on rewatch (especially seeing people hate the aeor arc so much) but ngl so far its either been good and fun as hell (travellercon, pirate arc) or just straight up banger after banger. like the xhorhas to angel of irons through to refjorged arc and then the cathedral.................. unrelenting slay

[moeblob]

Honestly? Good anime imo! I really enjoyed Aileen. I enjoyed Claude. I enjoyed Isaac and Keith and Rachel and Almond and Ribbon. I enjoyed Belzebuth and the flock of ducks (Walt/Kyle/Auguste) and Jasper.

[verecunda]

Hey, Tolkien fandom. Quick reminder (again).

You can like or dislike any adaptation of these books that you want. That's how personal taste works.

But the minute you start spouting crap about what "real" Tolkien fans like or dislike, you're an asshole, plain and simple.

[whump-in-the-closet]

A Healer's Hands

poll results came in: team whump, medic is broken down to be made an example of

cw: gore, medic whump, creepy whumper, team dynamics, captivity, torture

The Medic's crew stumbled through the cell door, one after the other.

Captain, with a black eye and a limp, lifted two fingers to their temple in a mock solute. Their clothes were torn and there was blood on their uniform's collar.

Youngest trembled as one of the henchmen shoved them inside the gated door. They looked around, eyes brighter than a deer's in headlights. "H-hey Medic." They wrapped their arms around themself.

"Hey," Medic swallowed down the twisting feeling that rose up. He forced his voice to soften, to not carry any of the sharp panic he felt. "Where are you hurt?"

"We're fine," Captain cut in, gesturing behind Medic's shoulder. "It's--"

Medic had already whirled around.

Lieutenant.

The Lieutenant held onto the cell wall with a shaking grip. Where he touched it, blood trickled down the stones in a steady faucet run.

Drip.

Drip.

"Lieutenant?"

He glanced up. His nose was gushing red. It stained his uniform, bright and electric in the dull light.

"Turns out those fuckers can throw a punch after all," said Lieutenant with a hoarse laugh. Still unceremoniously reckless.

But he let Medic hold a makeshift bandage--ripped from Medic's shirt-- to his nose.

As Lieutenant sat down, Medic crouched beside him, correcting how he was holding the bandage. "Don't tilt your head up."

Lieutenant winced when Medic readjusted the bandage.

Medic drew away and reevaluated the situation. "It's broken," he said.

"It’s just a new look I’m trying out – call it avant-garde." Lieutenant tried to laugh but ended up grimacing. He waved Medic away. "I'll survive."

Medic shook his head. "Wiseass." But he smiled. Then. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Lieutenant tilted his head against the wall, pieces of choppy hair falling away to reveal a swollen eye and pulsing bruises. He closed his eyes. Through a clenched jaw, he managed, "I think they broke my ribs."

Medic swallowed down a wave of helplessness. "Just stay still."

Lieutenant kept his eyes closed, breathing shallowly. "My pleasure."

Medic turned to Captain and Youngest. "So, you and you, where are you injured?" He only asked to make conversation. He had already identified that Youngest's arm was dislocated, hanging loosely at their side. And on Captain's right thigh was a raw-edged wound, seeping and damaged.

Medic took off his jacket, ready to tear it into makeshift bandages and a sling.

But neither looked at him.

Youngest was staring at something over Medic's shoulder. They pressed back into the wall, shaking.

"No," they whispered. "No. Not again."

Captain put a comforting hand on their shoulder, mouth set in a thin line.

Electric fear whispered a spider-like path down Medic's spine. They turned just as the cell door opened.

Whumper entered with two henchmen strolling behind them. Whumper grinned, teeth canine-sharp. His blood-red hair was tied back, accentuating fox-like features. He didn't look quite human-- too tall, too much of a bounce in his walk.

And he wouldn't stop smiling.

He swung a crowbar.

Even Lieutenant flinched.

Oh.

Oh.

Whumper arched an eyebrow when Medic stood his ground. "You're Medic?"

Medic glanced at Lieutenant-- saw panic and web-woven fear-- then back at Whumper. "Yes."

Whumper flicked the crowbar side to side. He kept talking, a paper mache smile at the corner of his mouth. "I don't appreciate you wrecking what I'm trying to build here."

Medic failed to understand. "I'm a medic. I have to provide care," he said automatically.

His head buzzed. He couldn't-- couldn't think clearly.

Whumper appeared to consider this. He tilted his head to the side. "I see. Well, I have to do things too, I get it."

"Yeah. Wait. No, what?"

The henchmen grabbed Medic. One kicked him in the back of the knees, forcing him to kneel.

Medic struggled, lashing out like a trapped animal.

A henchman brought the edge of their gun over Medic's head and Medic slumped forward.

His vision suddenly doubled.

The short-wired tension burst into flame.

Captain lunged forward. "Leave him alone!"

It took two henchmen to restrain Captain, pinning their arms behind them, and another to kick Lieutenant in the ribs, so he doubled over coughing. Incapacitated.

Whumper leaned over Medic, tilting his chin up to look him in the eye. "You should have left well enough alone," he whispered.

Medic snarled something unintelligible. A curse. A plea. He didn't know.

Whumpr straightened. To the others, he said, "You all break as easily as his hands will. And if you don't believe me? Watch."

There was a sharp intake of breath. Realization hit with a dull, sick thud. "No!" Lieutenant cried out, "No! No-- don't!"

But the henchmen had dragged Medic's hand out and splayed it on the tiles, kicking him when he tried to pull it away.

Whumper lifted the crowbar.

Medic's eyes widened in horror.

"No-- no, nonono! Please--" His voice arched into a desperate cry, more animal than human.

Crack.

A splintering sound.

All Medic could see was white. Electric pain filled every nerve, spilled into every bone, coating his teeth and burning-- burning, burning, burning.

A terrible sound ripped itself out of his throat.

And then again--

Crack.

His left hand.

Medic screamed.

Maybe he had screamed before.

Had always screamed.

Maybe he would scream forever.

Darkness filled the corners of his vision, blurring the sharp flashes of red of white--

Electric, pulsing red.

Burning, vicious white.

Blood trickled down his arms, bright and throbbing with a cinching pain.

Whumper wiped the gory crowbar on Medic's shirt.

His henchmen let the unconscious medic slump to the floor, little more than a bundle of clothes. They released Captain, who sank to the cell floor, unable to look away from Medic.

Whumper bent down by Lieutenant, whose breaths were coming in sharp drags. He wiped a tear off of Liutenant's face. "Crying?"

"No." His voice shook.

Whumper smiled generously. "Oh, no." He stood. "Tomorrow, one of you will offer up the information on your base. I do not make idle threats."

The door locked on the blood-soaked cell.

Lieutenant muffled a sob.

"We...we can't," said Captain. Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry.

They didn't know if they were apologizing to the unconscious Medic or to what remained of his hands.

tagging the people who interacted with the poll: @acer-gaysimpstuff, @yet-another-heathen, @another-whump-sideblog

[mettywiththenotes]

LEAK SPOILER BUT BUT UHHHH HORIKOSHI DID IT MERA APPEARS ALARM ALARM MERA APEARERED !!!!!!!VSDHFHJAEHWRGETHJ our prayers have been answered !!!!!!!

!!!! HORI HAD TO DELIVER FOR THE MERA STANS

AFTER 3 AND A HALF YEARS OF NOTHING BUT HINTS, FINALLY, HE RETURNS

I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE HIM AGAIN 😭😭 HE'S THE ONLY THING KEEPING ME GOING THROUGH THESE EPILOGUE LEAKS

Btw this is 8 years into the future, Mera was 39 pre-timeskip so now he's 47.. get that man a vacation look at him HE PROBABLY HASN'T HAD TIME OFF IN 10 YEARS

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 23

PREVIOUS

There were a few reasons that Andrew and Neil could not get past reception to go see FF or get updates on his current condition.

The first reason was that visiting hours were long over by the time they had arrived a little after midnight.

The second reason was that hospitals, in general, don’t just give out information on their patients to any random person that walks in and asks for an update on their condition. They are ESPECIALLY hesitant to give out updates on patients when the people who are asking can’t give you anything other than a first name, general description, and the reason that the patient is in the hospital.

Somehow “Completely average looking guy with the last name Smith who was stabbed in the stomach” is not enough for the receptionist to go off of.

“There are multiple people here that fit that description. I would need at least a first and last name before I could even begin to start seeing if you were someone who we even could give updates to. No, I will not continue to play your fun little game of guess the first name.” She says when Andrew opens his mouth to start listing off names alphabetically again.

So now Andrew and Neil found themselves under the watchful eye of a security guard as they sat in the back corner of the front reception area.

“I can’t believe we still don’t know what Smith’s first name is.” Neil says his face is buried in his hands as he and Andrew sit in the uncomfortable chairs trying to figure out where to go from here.

“I think she knows exactly who we want to see.” Andrew scowls towards the receptionist who, long used to the ire of the public, pays him no mind. Andrew just refused to believe that there were that many brown haired, brown eyed, average height and weight guys who had suffered a stab wound to the stomach that would have been admitted in the last two hours.

“I just hope they actually are looking after him and that no one went and forgot about him in an hallway somewhere.” Neil says hands sliding up into his hair to grip.

“That wouldn’t happen.” Andrew dismisses despite knowing that Wymack had ABSOLUTELY forgotten FF at a stadium once during the period where FF had been low presence to keep his family from bothering him.

The U-turn he had pulled had definitely been illegal when FF called and asked where the bus was when they had been on the road for five minutes. Wymack had felt terrible about it but FF had just seemed relieved that the bus had come back for him.

Wymack.

Andrew pulls out his phone and dials a familiar number. Wymack, reliable as always, picks up on the fourth ring with the sound of cursing as he got the phone up to his ear. “What.” He asks and Andrew can hear the sounds of driving and Kevin’s infamously train-like snoring in the background.

“What’s Smith first name. You know it.” Andrew demands.

“Classified.” Wymack clips back immediately.

“I need to know it so that we can get updates.” Andrew hisses.

“He isn’t interested in people knowing it and you wouldn’t be able to get updates anyways.” Wymack dismisses.

“We want to be able to head back to see him.” Neil tries.

“Visiting hours are long over Josten. You know that I’m not settling that bet that you little fuckers have floating around about this.” Wymack responds back.

Andrew grits his teeth and then forces himself to relax his jaw, “It’s not about the bet.” Andrew shuts his eyes in irritation.

That stupid bet.

The betting culture within the Palmetto State Foxes Exy team that Reynold’s had cultivated held strong even after her graduation with the remaining Foxes. The Bet had started when one of the other freshmen had mentioned that it was funny that FF went around like Cher or Madonna. The realization that none of them knew FF’s first name was one that had them placing bets on a multitude of things. Things like: “Do you wanna bet it’s a super normal boring name?”, “Do you wanna bet that it’s a weird foreign name?”, and “Is FF intentionally not giving it out to people or since he goes by his last name normally he has no idea that anything is amiss?” Had lower pools since you were betting on a spectrum. The bet with the highest pool is: “What is FF’s first name”.

Wymack had categorically refused to answer it and all other attempts to discover FF’s first name had been met with frustration. There was a solemn agreement that no one could just go and outright ask him since that would ruin all of the fun. Andrew had agreed to not ask when the team had collectively filled his freezer with ice cream cake and he was a man of his word.

The general belief (after the revelation of his major and the number of languages FF spoke) was that FF’s name was just not easy to pronounce for English speakers.

Andrew hadn’t participated but he know that the Foxes do have a running list of names they know it’s not. (Greg, Will, Smith (again), Matt, Kevin, Neil, Andrew, Aaron, Nathaniel, Jack, Beyonce (Sheena’s drunken guess), Nicholas, John, Fred, Garfield, Frank, Alfred, Augustus, Adam, etc. (Andrew had been trying to guess with the receptionist for a while))

“You’re coming here aren’t you? We can get updates when you get them.” Neil says.

“He’s in emergency surgery right now and will remain there for the next few hours most likely. There’s not going to be any updates hopefully.” Wymack says with a sigh loud enough that they can hear it over Kevin’s snoring.

“Surgery? He needs surgery?” Neil asks sounding surprised s if FF hadn’t been stabbed to the hilt into his stomach with one of Andrew’s knives. He’s about to give Neil some shit for the question before remembering that if there was any person who would think that a stab wound to the stomach wouldn’t necessitate surgery it would be Neil “I’m Fine” Josten.

“Yes Josten, he needs surgery. They have to stitch up his stomach and the surgeons are also going to be dealing with some of the ulcers that were ruptured by the knife.” Wymack explains likely coming to the same conclusion that Andrew had on Neil’s stupid question. “They were a bit worried about him bleeding out but he stabilized before the surgery.” Wymack sighs.

“I’m going the hospital since I’m Smith’s medical proxy. If anything goes wrong with the surgery I want to be there so I can make an informed decision on his care.” Wymack says and… Andrew figured there’d be surgery but to hear it and the possibility that something could go wrong, that the last thing FF had said to him had been something non-sensical about “Gracie Hart wouldn’t have gotten stabbed. I’m Cheryl at best.”as he’d started succumbing to all the blood loss. “If you could stick around long enough for me to drop Kevin off with you I would appreciate it.” Wymack says.

“What if he needs a blood transfusion?” Andrew says.

“Smith is AB-, it’s the second easiest blood type to transfuse into. Go home Andrew.” Wymack repeats.

Andrew works his jaw irritated that there didn’t seem to be a path to getting his way.

“We’ll stay here until you get here.” Andrew agrees, “But you’ll get an update before we leave.” He adds.

Wymack sighs, “Fair enough.” He says before hanging up.

It’s 45 minutes of waiting and tossing a few more name possibilities at the receptionist who seems more amused than anything at their continued attempts to guess their friend’s first name (Neil goes through the entire list of names that he’s gone by and none of them get the thumbs up).

Wymack comes through the doors with a half awake Kevin Day following his steps. “I have another favor to ask you.” Wymack says instead of any form of greeting.

“I’m not going to leave Kevin in the car overnight again. It was just that one time.” Andrew says with a roll of his eyes and honestly he’d been punished enough listening to Kevin bitch, moan, and sneeze for the following week while talking about all the supplements he was taking.

“Not that,” Wymack pauses, “I have two favors to ask you. First don’t do that. Second, would you be able to pick up Smith’s grandma from the airport tomorrow?” He asks.

Andrew blinks.

“She’s coming here?” He asks.

“I updated her on my way here. She booked a flight and will be arriving around noon tomorrow.” Wymack says and Andrew doesn’t know why he’s confused by this. FF’s grandma got him two still warm pies to cheer him up on Thanksgiving.

He’d stabbed that woman’s grandson.

“I’ll pick her up.” He agrees.

Shorter one today

NEXT

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?