#just like we have since the dawn of civilisation

[rhysintherain]

The thing about people like this (aside from their desperate love of ahistorical narratives, of course) is that they believe there's only ever been one civilisation, and it belongs to them. Everyone else is just copying it, badly, or doesn't really count.

They also don't believe in positive or neutral change. There's just The Way Things Should Be (the way their ancestors or their god made it, depending on the individual) and The Inevitable Cultural Decay caused by anyone they don't agree with.

In this cardboard cutout narrative, they need the legacy of history but they can't comprehend that morals shift over centuries, cultures over decades, and borders and identities in as little as years.

They need a story that doesn't change to prop up a worldview that very much doesn't work with reality, past or present.

This is how you get people insisting that Greece was inhabited by god-fearing christians 3,000 years ago. Or that everyone in the Roman Empire was straight. Or that Vikings were protestant.

They'd fall down dead if they knew how many of our ancestors had to be forced to convert to christianity, how many of them came from Africa and the middle East in the last few hundred years, or what they actually believed was moral and right.

It's a view of the past that doesn't stand up to even the most cursory scrutiny, which is why they're so defensive about it.

The idea of "western civilisation" as some sort of a homogenous monolith is definitely just a white supremacist dogwhistle, but the way these people talk about it makes it sound downright funny. This Unified White Culture that started in Ancient Greece and practices a religion that was born in the Southern Levant when a small doomsday cult escaped containment, and then there were vikings and shit and these are all just one unified People and Culture, despite of me having more mutual DNA with a neanderthal than a spaniard. Probably more mutual culture, too.

And then this spectacular glorious monolith empire is as fragile as a victorian orphan dying of tuberculosis. Must be protected from the slightest draft from any direction, at all costs, because unlike the cultures of countless diasporic peoples, the mighty Western Civilisation will die if it is not at least a 90% majority at all times. Every three minutes there's something new that is the harbinger of societal collapse, the beginning of the end, some sort of a slow-motion apocalypse caused by people saying stuff and doing things, and wearing clothes you don't like.

"Sure you're laughing now but where will you be when the barbarians are at the gates?" I'll be at the gates, obviously. The faggots are coming and we have a trebuchet.

[mariacallous]

Would you like to travel in the advance party to Mars, aboard the space rocket of a man who can’t sort a livestream? Ideally you would have to get in line for this species-level honour behind thousands of Earth’s leading shitposters, who not only trust implicitly in X owner Elon Musk, but truly believe that if they grind away for hours a day telling him that on his platform, one day he will see one of those posts. I hope he does, guys!

In the meantime, my favourite recent headline on this interplanetary settlement programme ran “Elon Musk denies his sperm will seed Mars colony”. Sure. It’s just a hunch, but I feel like they’re going to have way more sperm than they need up there. It’s the other bit necessary for human life that you sense will be in shorter supply.

Anyway, from the future of the red mist planet to the future of political discourse: Monday night’s conversation between Musk and Donald Trump on X (audio only, only almost an hour late, and only for massively fewer live listeners than advance estimates suggested). It was so dysfunctional that even Trump’s dentures were trying to escape. Hours after it had taken place, Musk issued an intriguing APB: “Anyone have a <1 hour edit of the highlights of the @realDonaldTrump conversation?” To which the only reply is: sorry … what? That is like NBC putting out a request reading: “does anyone have any highlights of the Olympics?” YOU OWN THE PLATFORM. How can you not have organised some highlights?!

Still, in the absence of his, here are mine. We’ll kick off with Musk portentously informing Trump that “We’re at a fork in the road of the destiny of civilisation”. And ye shall know this fork for it is signposteth with an error screen. In the UK, we have an expression for benchmark incompetence: we say someone couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery. But a tech boss being unable to organise a tech event on a tech platform feels like a new industry standard: the brewery’s head of piss-ups being unable to launch a piss-up in his brewery. On Monday night you could watch live footage from any number of bird nesting boxes around the world, but it was impossible to watch any of the would-be president of the United States. That said, I’m afraid both species soiled their floors.

If only there’d been some warning that you could trust X to cock up these live events. Do recall that Musk was previously backing the former Republican nominee candidate Ron DeSantis, and managed to persuade the Florida governor to launch his campaign on X last year. The tech-fail that followed was “a DISASTER!” Not my take, fanfolk, but that of a certain Donald Trump.

Either way, making it audio-only felt less than futuristic. I saw someone say it could have been an email, but it would have worked best as a fax. It wasn’t so much like the tech revolution hadn’t happened, more like the Industrial Revolution hadn’t happened. Hopefully as time wears on, Musk will upgrade his server to a spinning jenny. In the meantime, he would like you to believe that there was some sort of cyber-attack on his ancient looms. He explained to frustrated users that X Spaces had been subject to a “massive DDOS attack”, which strangely didn’t affect any of the rest of X. This is definitely the most self-sabotaging excuse since Katy Perry claimed her recent plastic feminism single was “satire” and “a reset for my idea of feminine divine”. After Monday night, the haters need to understand: Elon’s aural frotting of Trump was satire, and a reset for his idea of masculine divine.

It was certainly a reset for the spectacle of 21st-century power broking. Behold, the billionaire hedge funder Bill Ackman, who recently came out for Trump, and who, on Monday night, could be found replying plaintively to his preferred candidate’s cobwebbed X handle: “Please let Elon know we can’t join”. Posting impotently at a presidential account that Trump has not personally used in three years to bleat that the meeting host isn’t letting him in … I’m sensing that a big part of the reset of the idea of masculine divine is old guys shouting that they can’t make their computers work. Have you tried simply switching the masculine divine off then on again?

Let’s deal only briefly with the eventual contents of Elon and Donald’s fireside chat, as long as we’re clear the fire they were sitting next to was a dumpster, sparks from which had long since set both their pants on fire. “I want to close the department of education,” Trump slurred at one point. According to Trump, Biden was ousted in a “coup”. Hey, at least the Democrats can organise a successful one.

For a genius, finally, Musk’s interview technique is surprisingly like that of a nitwit breakfast host. (Donna Air once asked the Corrs how they met.) He guffawed his way through most of Trump’s ramblings, reserving special admiration for the authoritarians and dictators he’d encountered. Trump mentioned meeting with Kim Jong-un. “That was cool,” gurgled Musk, whose platform is banned in North Korea. “If something happens with this election,” concluded Trump, “we’ll meet the next time in Venezuela, because it’ll be a far safer place to meet than our country.” Fortunately, as is the case with pretty much anywhere ruled by these freedom-loathing strongmen, X is also currently banned in Venezuela. So at least we’d be spared having to glitch our way through another meeting of minds like this.

[writing-a-to-b]

Title: Winter Word Count: 4,962 Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader, a side helping of platonic/familial Ellie Williams X Reader A/N: This work is written in collaboration between @specialagentmonkey & @bangaveragewhitewine

We’re back! We post weekly; we have one more season, which will be followed by some ~interludes~ in between the main seasons. 

Thanks for reading folks, any comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Follow and turn on notifications if you would like to hear when we post the other seasons / chapters, or sign up to our taglist to be kept up to date with what we post!

We do not give permission for our work to be posted on other sites. 

Seasons Of Us masterlist 

Contains: tooth-rotting fluff, shitty christmases past, panic attacks, canon loss of a child (not mentioned but gives context)

-

Autumn made way for the Winter, the fresh mornings and evenings becoming more bitter as the weeks grew on. Small flurries of snow began to blanket Jackson, causing the townsfolk to take a final inventory of the supplies and the towns’ reserves to last the duration of the winter. The sunlight during the day began to lessen making the days work shorter and harder to complete tasks. There was a shift in the atmosphere amongst the town too, everyone was optimistic, cautiously so, for getting through the winter.

And of course, following the celebrations of Halloween and Thanksgiving everyone was looking forward to Christmas and all the festivities that came with it. Since you, Joel and Ellie had arrived in Jackson, each holiday had only gotten better every year. It should feel normal, not buying friends and your make-shift family gifts after so long of not being able to, but being in Jackson and back in a proper civilised community (no matter how small) made you miss your old tradition of scouring the hundreds of stores in the mall, coffee in hand ready, putting time and thought into each gift. 

Despite the Christmas holiday being special and close to everyone’s hearts, it had been a yearly struggle for Joel to settle into his festive spirit. He really tried, tried for you and for Ellie.  You had decided that there were going to be some changes this year, for one, you were determined to surprise Joel and Ellie with an actual Christmas tree for the living room. You had even scored some decorations - though they had seen better days - and some extra candles to make the place feel cosy and festive. You just hoped it would all go to plan…

The perfect chance to go looking for a tree came early one morning, before any of your alarms had gone off. There was muffled knocking coming from downstairs and then two sharp taps on the bedroom window. 

Joel startled awake and shot up in bed on the second tap against the window, his arm instinctively shooting across your body to protect you from whatever evil or intruder was there. Only there wasn’t one. No raider, no infected, just a constant sharp tapping against the bedroom window. 

“What is it?” You mumbled into the pillow, voice thick from sleep. 

You felt the bed shift, Joel’s side of the covers being thrown over you. Tugging the covers down from your face you peak an eye open to see Joel pulling back one side of the curtains. 

He rested his forehead against the cool glass in partial relief and annoyance, “It’s Tommy- somethin’ must be wrong.” Seeing his brother’s sleepy glare, the younger Miller stopped his assault of throwing pebbles at the window, signalling  Joel to open the door. Before you closed your eyes again, you spotted Joel flip the bird in return for the unwanted wake-up call; despite it all, the Miller brothers never changed.

It turned out nothing was wrong in the sense that Jackson was being attacked or they had infected to deal with. Kenneth, one of the regular patrolmen, had gone and twisted his ankle coming home from the Tipsy Bison the night before and couldn’t go out on the dawn patrol. Joel’s house was the closest to Tommy when he heard the news, and he knew Joel hadn’t any other work planned, so he figured he would get his big brother to come along. 

“It was supposed to be my day off, Tommy,” he muttered as he pulled on his boots. 

You were sitting on the sofa, rather blurry eyed in your dressing gown, but concentrating on the task at hand. You loaded up Joel’s backpack, making sure there was extra ammunition, a pack of beef jerky and a flask of hot tea in there too. 

“I’m sorry but you were the closest, capable person.” He explained in an apology. To give Tommy his due, he did look sorry. 

You stood when Joel did, watching him pull on and zip up the layers that would keep him warm. Shuffling with him to the front door you helped him get his pack on while Tommy went to wait outside.  You smoothed your hands over his shoulders and chest. “You be good. No heroics, no breaking any bones, no getting stabbed or shot or-“

“-I got it. I got it.” Joel tutted and bent his hand down to meet your lips, “Wish I could take you back to bed,” he murmured against your lips, his hands slipping down your back and round to squeeze your hips. 

“Patrol shouldn’t be long, we have that route pretty much locked down. You’ll be back by midday.” You pecked his lips, then his chin, then his cheek, bringing your hands up to cup them, “Ellie will still be in school, I’ll keep the bed warm…?” You trailed off, brushing your nose with his, leaving the tail end of that suggestive sentence open.

“Y’dont have to twist my arm, sweetheart.” He gave you one last slow kiss before pecking your forehead. Then he was gone, his and Tommy’s footsteps crunching on the fresh snow as dawn broke. 

—

You didn’t in fact go back to bed that morning, you instead decided to use the early start to your advantage. You made short work of any chores or clean up that needed doing throughout your Jackson home before you had to wake Ellie for breakfast and school. 

After getting your winter gear on you called in at the southern gate, asking for permission to head out into the woods, explaining to Maria why and what for. She was more than happy to help; Christmas was special in their house, with their little toddler loving the excitement and the twinkling lights in particular.

With Joel’s axe in hand, you and Maria went a short ways off into the woods to look for the perfect tree but also a one that you’d be able to drag home and get into a pot, all before Joel came back from patrol. The one you laid your eyes on after an hour or so of searching was perfect. It wasn’t too full and if you were to estimate it stood just under five feet tall - a nice size. 

Together with Maria you chopped it down, tied the rope around it and prayed it would last the walk back to your house. It did, and you were glad to have an extra pair of strong hands as you lugged it home. You struggled to get it up the porch but with a bit of brute force and grunting it stood in your living room in  the soil filled bucket in the corner of the room beside the window. 

Both out of breath, you wiped your hands and brows before standing back to take in your handiwork; it seemed to tilt a bit to the left but it was upright and already made the place feel more festive, that’s all that mattered.. 

—

By mid afternoon you’d made lunch for yourself after Maria left to pick up the littlest Miller before starting preparations for dinner. It would be stew again tonight, Ellie's favourite. Joel didn’t care what was on his plate or in his bowl as long as it was hot and edible, but he was fond of your Mom’s stew recipe. 

After a while, you started to get worried, it was nearing one in the afternoon and there was still no sign of Joel or any of the patrol coming back. Leaning your shoulder against the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room you sighed, looking between the box of decorations and the Christmas tree. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to take it down. 

“And don’t you care come knockin’ tomorrow Tommy or so help me you won’t have any knuckles to knock with!” Joel’s voice made you jump, even through the door it was loud. His somewhat playful yet very serious threat to his younger brother was followed by loud stamps of his feet, removing the excess snow from his boots before he turned his key into the lock in the front door. 

You dashed to the door to meet him, hoping to keep his eyes on you instead of the living room, “Welcome back, I was starting to get worried.”

Joel waved you off, placing his rifle down beside the door frame before he unzipped  his coat and fleece jacket, “The snow really built up on the outside of the wall, made it hard to get through. Is that stew I can smell?”

You chuckled at him lifting his nose in the direction of the kitchen, sniffing loudly. You nodded as you helped hang his outer layers up to dry out, , “It is. Beef, Ellie’s favourite.”

Joel met your eyes then as he toed off his boots and his brows pulled together, “Why’d you look so nervous?”

The reality of the surprise had landed on you. Maybe it was a terrible idea after all.  You cleared your throat, “I might have a surprise for you but.. I can get rid of it. I don’t want you to be upset, or annoyed.” You winced at the worry in your voice and you watched every emotion cross Joel’s face. 

“I can’t promise anythin’ but if it’s a surprise then I’m sure you’ve put a lot of thought into it so I’ll keep that in mind.” He chuckled and placed his hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes, “What’s goin’ on, darlin’?” Had Ellie brought another animal home, did you cave and let her keep it…

You took his hand and side-stepped from his field of view, making a sweeping motion across the space of the living room, revealing the bare Christmas tree and the box of decorations beside it on the floor. “Surprise...” You held your breath as you hoped for the best.

You bit inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying anything else yet,  watching his face instead. He seemed at a loss for words just staring at the tree. To some it wouldn’t seem like a big deal, but you could probably hazard a guess that the last time Joel had any form of decorations in his house it had been alongside some happy memories that were now tinged with pain and sadness, much like your own.  

“I-uh-I was thinking that maybe this year we could have a tree and.. y’know decorate it and maybe the house as-as a family.” Your voice ended up being so soft towards the end before you took a deep breath. “If you hate it, I can throw it out. I won’t be hurt. We can use it for firewood..”  Your hand instinctively squeezed Joel’s. Your heart sang and voice wobbled when he squeezed back. 

For once you couldn’t read Joel. He had tears in his eyes but his expression was guarded and you didn’t like it. You had fucked up. It had gone wrong, you knew deep down it was a bad idea and now you’d have to drag the tree back out after cleaning your floors earlier. 

“It…”

You raised your eyebrows, a shred of hope lingered.

“It’s perfect.”

When his eyes met yours you very nearly started crying. He liked the idea of a tree, he’d opened up to it finally and you couldn’t have been happier. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whispered and after releasing your hand, he drew you into his side with an arm around your shoulders, “I mean it. It’s perfect…I think it’s time too. Ellie is definitely gonna love it. How on Earth did you get it in here?”

Feeling a rush of hopeful excitement, you laughed. “Excuse me Miller, you ain’t the only one with a bunch of muscles and persistence the size of Texas.” You scowled playfully at him as he looked amused.  “It was a struggle, I won’t lie, but Maria helped me chop it down and drag it back to town - I owe her big time. Then there was the fight with the porch steps,” you paused and  pointed to the bucket the tree sat  in, “And don’t even get me started on that thing.”

A deep laugh bubbled up from his chest as he pulled you against his chest, wrapping you up. “You’re amazing, I ever told you that?” Joel pressed his lips to your head as he tried to articulate just how dear you were to him. “The way… The way you just think about my feelings and..” He shook his head, irritated with himself as he struggled with the words.  He squeezed you tighter and spoke into your hair, “I can’t picture my life without you in it.”

You slid your hands up from his arms to his cheeks and brought his head down to look into your eyes again, “I know. Me too.” You nodded, letting him know that you didn’t need his words, you could tell on his face and in his body language that he was thankful, “I love you too.”

—

The tree was a hit with Ellie when she arrived home from school, she was even more excited about the decorations for the rest of the house and the porch. For her, Christmas was something that she learned about in FEDRA school, but she never really got the chance to celebrate the holiday. Not properly, not like a kid should, surrounded by family, presents and plenty of food. Jackson did Christmas right, maybe this year you would finally enjoy it.

Your first Christmas as a trio wasn’t like Christmas at all, holed up in some draughty old cabin to wait out a blizzard. Joel and Ellie had a lot of healing to do - physical and emotional - after all that had happened with David and his crew. You hadn’t even realised what day it was, focusing instead on staying alive and sane. Those days on your way to Salt Lake City had been a blur.

Your first real Christmas in Jackson was overwhelming in a different way. The three of you were swept along in the festivities as you tried to forget the previous hellish winter. There were town meals and dances at the Jackson hall.. To call it ‘overwhelming’ was an understatement. ***

It was the evening of the Jackson Christmas dance, Ellie had been talking about it non-stop all week so you could hardly forget about it, or ignore it like Joel seemed to. With everything that had happened in the last year, you were excited to be able to relax and feel some semblance of normality, for you and Joel to let your hair down a bit. The distraction for Ellie was welcomed with open arms. 

Maria had really helped you and Ellie out with some nicer clothing for the dance, a simple dark green dress for you that she had swapped some of her old maternity clothes for. For Ellie it was a little less formal, a pair of cargo trousers, a Savage Starlight tshirt and some second hand sneakers that had made the girl practically squeal.

“Are you guys ready?” Ellie asked as she came barrelling into the bedroom you share with Joel, skidding to a halt just through the door, “It’s nearly time, it starts at six thirty!”

“Slow down, girl. We have time.” You reassured her with a smile when your eyes met in the mirror. You were currently trying to do something with your hair while Joel was in the bathroom. Even Ellie had kept her hair down.

Ellie huffed and sat down on the end of your bed, examining her new sneakers, “Is Joel even ready?”

“Yes. He’s probably adding some extra curls into his hair,” you quipped, both of you sharing a giggle at his expense.

You moved to sit down beside her and threw an arm over her shoulders, “You excited?”

“Uh, duh.” She deadpanned before breaking out into a grin, “Are you crazy? It’s like my first proper Christmas, it’s gonna be fuckin’ awesome.”

You couldn’t help but agree, pleased to see she was smiling about something again. There was the sound of something dropping behind the bathroom door that perked both of your ears up. Followed by muffled curses.

“Joel? Everything okay?” You asked from your seat on the bed, when you didn’t receive a response you stood from the bed, knocking gently on the door, “Joel?”

Still nothing, “I’m coming in, okay?” With that you turned the handle and slowly opened the door. 

At first there was nothing for you to see out of the ordinary, that was  until your eyes laid on the sight of Joel on the floor, back pressed against the side of the bath, clutching his chest. It took a split second for you to act but you were on your knees, between his bent legs in an instant, resting your hands on his knees, “Joel? Joel? Joel, can you look at me?”

He shook his head, his eyes tightly screwed shut. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t get the ringing in his ears to stop. Was it actually a heart attack this time, or was he having another god damn panic attack? All he knew was impending doom in that moment. And why? Because he couldn’t stand the thought of being around people, celebrating, drinking and dancing. People that insist on reminiscing about the good old days when all he wanted to do was forget they ever happened. Every time he remembered it hurt.

Your hand on his clammy cheek shocked him enough to open his eyes, “Joel, you need to breathe, baby. You’re having a panic attack.”

Joel shook his head again, pushing his chin down into his chest as best he could, this was looking like it was his worst one yet.

“Shit…” Ellie stood helplessly at the door, frozen in place. 

You turned your body enough to look at her.  “Ellie go get some water from downstairs-”

She made a noise of complaint and motioned with her hand towards the basin. “- there’s a tap right th-”

Your eyes pleaded with her to understand, she didn’t need to see this, you didn’t want it to scare her, especially when she had been so excited and happy. You also knew that maybe he didn’t want his baby girl to see him like this either. “Ellie, please. A big cold glass of water from downstairs.”

She didn’t realise that this was her helping you out, feeling like she was in the way again, and with  a huff she muttered “Fine,” before leaving the two of you alone in the ensuite bathroom.

“Hey, it’s just us.” You said in a soft voice, moving one hand to take one of his, you moved your other from his knee to his chest, “Can you look at me? Do you know what set it off?”

Joel shook his head weakly, eyes glazed over as he stared at his jeans. “I ca-hnnn.. I can’t.” He had never sounded smaller, felt more pathetic. He had been through hell and back, yet the thought of a party and some sparkling lights was what was going to finish him off. 

“Joel. Breathe, please baby.” You took his balled up fist, coaxing him to place his hand on your chest as you began to take slow deep breaths, holding them before releasing them. “Breathe with me. I got you.” 

Slowly, he lifted his tearful gaze up and met your eyes. You nodded, smiling. “Good. Thank you.” You stroked his hand with your thumb as you continued to breathe deeply for him. “I missed those pretty eyes. Deep breaths with me, handsome.”

It felt like an eternity for you both, but soon his breathing had steadied and the tears that had spilled began to dry on his cheeks. You heard Ellie’s footsteps and caught Joel’s gaze duck again as she appeared back at the door. 

“I brought the water… I might’ve broke a glass.” She stepped in and dipped down to set it down on the floor beside you. Her eyes looked red, her sparkle of excitement gone. You all knew you wouldn’t be going to the dance tonight. 

“Thank you, Ellie. Don’t worry about the glass.” You looked between them before patting the ground next to you. Even if Joel didn’t like it, you couldn’t keep hiding this from her. What if you weren’t there next time this happened…“Sit with us?”

“Shouldn’t have’ta see this shit.” Joel’s voice was ragged, exhausted. “Go… t’the dance.”

Ellie tensed her jaw and shook her head before sitting on the cool tiles, picking at her laces. “I don’t want to. I’m staying right here.” 

You could see Joel beating himself up, Ellie tensing too as she battled with her worries. Your own feelings of inadequacy - feeling like you couldn’t be what either of them needed - crept in too but you couldn’t crumble, not now. 

Your dream of some sort of normal Christmas disappeared as you bolstered both of them. You had each other, just like last year, that’s what mattered. What was one more year…

-

Decorating the tree was the family affair you had dreamed of. Laughter and some old records you had collected over the years were your soundtrack as Ellie took care adding the decorations to the tree with you, Joel helping with the higher branches, even though you could reach just fine. The few shiny baubles you had got your hands on had seen better days, but they were charming in their own way and reminded you of the Texan by your side. 

With a few paper snowflakes - the making of which had blown Ellie’s mind - the tree was finished in time for dinner. You couldn’t have dreamed of a better day, seeing Joel’s boyish grin and the sparkle in Ellie’s eyes as they bickered playfully over bowls of hot stew. 

The teenager had her own plans that evening, going to check on the horses and hang out with some of the other kids, leaving you and Joel to have a quiet evening admiring your handiwork with a glass of bourbon in hand. 

You were both cuddled up on the couch under a thick blanket with your legs thrown over his lap and your head gently resting against his shoulder. It was a feeling you might never get used to, being able to sit in a warm home that was yours, on a mostly comfortable sofa with soft country music coming from the record player across the room. Being safe and secure in a world that was the complete opposite. That thought alone made you hum softly and snuggle further into Joel’s warmth.

There was something else weighing on you, and you were mindful not to spoil the lovely day and calm mood. After a few sips of your drink, you built the courage to bring it up.

“So I might have another surprise for you,” you murmured quietly, your fingertips tracing the veins on the back of Joel’s hand that was resting on your thigh,“Just a little something that I’ve been working on in my spare time.” 

“Oh?” Joel squeezed your thigh gently, “Didn’t know we got spare time ‘round here. How do I get in on that?”

You pinch his arm gently and roll your eyes, “Shush.” After another sip you speak again, feeling his whiskey gaze on you,“ Yeah, it kinda goes with the tree..” You unwound your body from Joel’s and moved to take a small wrapped package tied with string from the dresser, hidden right at the back of the drawer. He stayed, one arm along the back of the couch, watching you curiously. 

“Might’ve used some of your tools for this. I hope I’m not overstepping…” 

Joel’s eyebrows raised and he sat forward as you offered him the package, keeping his eyes on you as he took it. “My girl using my tools to make me a gift?”

You nodded and tried a shy smile. “I didn’t even cut myself this time.” 

Joel clicked his tongue as he unwrapped the package, mouth open to lecture you on tool safety before his eyes settled on the simple disk of wood inside. Cut from a branch of pine, the disk was carved with a simple ‘S’ in the centre, framed by dark pine bark, with a loop of string  for hanging. It was even varnished, remarkably tidy for a beginner. If his words hadn’t caught in his throat, Joel would have praised you right out of the gate. 

“I wanted Sarah to be part of our Christmas.” Your voice was shy, gentle, as you watched Joel blink away the burning sting in his eyes. He cleared his throat and you watched him work through a few breaths as his words and emotions twisted in his throat.

“S’really beautiful.” Joel looked up at you, voice thick.  “Help me put it on, right near the top?” he asked, sniffing as he stood.

You nodded eagerly and took his offered hand as he gazed at the disk. “You really did this for me.” It wasn’t a question, a simple statement of the fact that you loved him. 

“Yeah.. Might’ve made one for Ellie too, I’ll give it to her on Christmas Eve, but I wanted this to be special. Just for you.” 

Joel tore his eyes away to look at you like you hung the moon. “Special? Doesn’t even touch how much this means to me, sweet girl. Thank you.” He ducked his head to kiss you before looking back at the tree. 

-

“You got me a gift?” The look of wonder and pure disbelief that crossed Ellie’s face was enough to set both you and Joel off smiling. This girl really hadn’t celebrated Christmas properly before. It broke your heart.

You shrugged as if it was nothing and after glancing at Joel you pulled a small package from behind you, wrapped identically to the one you had given Joel a few days ago, “I made you a gift, with my bare hands.” 

“No fucking way.” 

“Language.” The soft scold came from you and Joel at the same time, causing you both to share a smirk with each other. The cursing had been kept to a minimum at the dinner table; Joel had a hand in that, teaching her the old southern table manners.

“Sorry but this is so cool. So I open it tomorrow, right?” Ellie asked, her eyes moving between you and the wrapped gift. “Like does it go under the tree? Some of the kids in the FEDRA school got presents but I never- I was always in trouble so…” 

With a shake of your head and an encouraging smile you hold out the present for her to take. “No, you can open it now, we won’t make you wait.”

Joel sat forward with his elbows on his knees. “Go on kiddo.”

Ellie beamed a smile at the both of you before she started to carefully untie the package and pull open the paper. Ellie’s gift matched the one you had made for Joel, with an ‘E’ instead of Sarah’s ‘S’; the wood had been cut from the same branch which felt almost poetic. You found yourself holding your breath while Ellie examined the wooden circle, holding it delicately in her hands before tracing the carving. You felt Joel’s warm hand on your knee, offering some silent support.

“You made this for me?” Ellie’s voice wobbled slightly, her eyes shining with tears.

You glanced at Joel before nodding at Ellie, “Yeah do you-”

All of a sudden Ellie threw herself at you. After a few moments, Joel joined in, hugging you both tightly.

“C’mon kiddo, let’s put it up next to Sarah,” Joel said after you had all peeled away from each other, Ellie still enthralled by the thoughtful gift. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched Joel put his arm around Ellie, the way he had with you, as she placed the carving as high as she could reach.

Together they hung the decoration, pride of place on your first family Christmas tree.

Joel looked over toward you, opening his free arm out for you to join them - an offer you wouldn’t turn down.

“This is the best fucking tree ever,” Ellie said, awestruck. 

“Better than the one in town?” Joel asked, feeling you hold him a little tighter. He had avoided spending too much time around it in the years previous. He had told you why, but he didn’t want it to be a fuss for you or for Ellie. Last year, when you had taken the teen to watch the tree-lighting in the town square, Tommy had arrived with a distraction - an old wood burning stove that he was trying to get working for a couple who were having their own first family Christmas a few streets away. That had kept Joel’s mind occupied.

Ellie looked up at him, her eyes flicking toward you before nodding. “Miles better. Are you kidding, this one has me on it.” She grinned proudly. 

“Well I was going to suggest going to see what all the fuss was about. We could make it into town this evening before it gets too late. But hey, if it sucks then…”

You shared a look with Ellie. 

“Are you sure?” You knew the panic attacks had gotten fewer, further between. You couldn’t remember the last one. 

“I’m willing to try, I got my girls with me - how bad can it be?” he said, looking at you, then Ellie. He grunted before laughing as you both squeezed him as tight as you could. The tight feeling in his chest this year was a good one, a great one. 

[haru-dipthong]

Gender Abolition: A Modular Essay

This essay is meant to be readable in any order. Feel free to jump around, because all of the ideas are connected, inseparable, even. Also worth noting that I speak authoritatively due to the essay format, but please know I am very open to the possibility that some of the things I have taken for granted, or the things I claim, are simply incorrect. Please let me know if you find anything you disagree with in this way.

Module 1: Gender is bad

Gender is not a force for good. It was originally an evolutionarily helpful tool for organising social structures that helped us to get to where we are now [see Module 3 and 5]. But, like wisdom teeth, which are present because we needed a larger jaw size prior to consuming softer cooked foods, it has become an obsolete, even problematic and harmful, remnant of evolution.

Gender (the division of people into man/woman/nonbinary categories) is harmful [see Module 8].

For example, gender-biased laws and regulations that differentiate between men and women almost always have the effect of perpetuating oppression of women. One clear case of this is that maternity and paternity leave entitlements in almost every country entitle mothers to more leave than fathers. While this may look like it is in favour of women on the surface, it means that in a heterosexual relationship 1. a mother is more likely to “put her career on hold” than a father, resulting in more dependence on their partner, and 2. companies will subtly and subconsciously discriminate against hiring and promoting women, due to seeing them as a liability. (Caroline Criado Perez, 2019, Invisible Women)

Module 2: Attempts to abolish gender would fail

Some people really strongly identify with their gender [see Module 8]. As long as there are people with attachments to their gender, there will be gender, no matter how much a legislative or socially organised attempt at abolishing gender tries to suppress the idea of it.

It would mean nothing for the government to say “No more concept of man and woman. Just male, female, intersex, and transitioning. All laws have been amended to be completely gender neutral, and any sex specific medicine/laws/regulations have been changed to reference the relevant biological trait (not sex, the specific trait) rather than the gender.” Such a thing would not abolish gender. We would naturally start using the sex terms to group people socially [see Module 4 and 5]. We would simply reinvent gender under a new name [see Module 3]. “Abolishing” gender in this way would only undo a lot of great work and research into the sociological, psychological, philosophical distinction between sex and gender.

Humans cannot be rid of normative attachments - it would be impossible to “abolish gender” [see Module 5].

Module 3: The universality of gender

Gender, like language, seemingly exists as a social construct in every human society. Either it emerged independently multiple times across the world, or it emerged once at the dawn of humanity and has stayed a constant presence in every human civilisation since then, throughout thousands of years of new cultures as humans spread across the planet.

This means that, like the mechanics for language acquisition, it seems likely to me that the mechanics for mentally categorising people into social roles that are initially based on biological differences of sexual dimorphism exist as a preprogrammed part of the human brain structure.

Module 4: “Gender is prior to sex”

When Laplanche says “gender is prior to sex” in his Gender, Sex, and the Sexual, I believe he means that humans conceive of their own gender, the difference between their own gender and the gender of others, and the concept of gender, prior to them conceiving of their own sex, the difference between their own sex and the sex of others, and the concept of sex. Obviously, a penis or vulva comes “first” in that it is tied to the physical body, but sex the social construct is not primary in the mind of a human - that primacy belongs to gender.

To elaborate, there are multiple aspects to this.

To its parents and to wider society, a baby’s gender (what kind of boy/girl they are imagined to grow up to be) is more important than their sex.

To its parents and to wider society, a baby’s gender is conceived of before their sex is. When someone asks “is it a boy or a girl?” they’re not primarily asking “does it have a penis or vulva?” but instead attempting to grasp the as-yet-unformed personhood of the infant. [see Module 5]

A child will understand what their gender means before they understand what their sex means.

A child will understand what their gender is before they understand what their sex is.

Module 5: The importance of gender to the socialisation interface and theory of mind

Conceptualising others’ mental states is very difficult, so humans subconsciously use shortcuts and tricks to make it easier. One major trick we use is stereotyping and profiling. By mentally marking someone as a particular type of person (or part of a particular group of people), we can make assumptions based on our existing understanding of that particular type/group of people, without trying to conceive of this person’s mind from scratch.

Gender is one of the most, if not the most, fundamental profiling group we use as humans. As anyone who’s played Guess Who would know, the most efficient grouping tool is one that divides all possible options into two halves. In fact, the evolution of an innate brain-blueprint of gender may have come about because of this efficiency of grouping [see Module 3]. Because of this, gender is the first thing we notice about a person. Freud writes “When you meet a human being, the first distinction that you make is ‘male or female?’ and you are accustomed to make the distinction with unhesitating certainty” (Freud 1933, “Lecture 33. Femininity.” New Introductory Lectures on Psycho-Analysis. Standard Edition, 22).

Obviously, stereotyping based on gender (especially perceived gender based on a cursory glance) is problematic, but unfortunately, the efficiency of this profiling group on theory of mind, and its deep roots in the functioning of the human brain, mean that, I believe, it is essentially impossible to prevent our brains from doing this automatically - like the Stroop effect forces us to automatically read text in languages we have acquired.

Module 6: Gender as Identity. Gender as Label.

Gender is not a force for good [see Module 8] - yet taking up a label is helpful, especially for queer people who can use that to then find their community and contextualise themselves within a social order previously unknown to them.

As we can see from the MOGAI phenomenon, from queer communities’ fights for X gender markers on drivers licenses, from the emphasis on linguistic rather than active allyship, reinforcement and validation of identity is important to a lot of queer people, especially young ones, or ones with less self-confidence or education on queer issues. I think some of this importance placed on identity is due to the conflation of linguistic terms with reality, and believing that if something can’t be expressed linguistically, it isn’t real [see Module 7]. I think this is why MOGAI came into being, where hundreds of obscure gender terms were created by a community of tumblr teenagers, in order to, as I see it, create a linguistic term for their specific gender experience. However, gender is experienced differently by everyone, so of course it’s not useful to come up with a gender category for every possible gender experience because you’d have 8.2 billion. So, although a label can be helpful, I think queer people should deemphasise the importance of labels and instead focus on understanding themselves from first principles, rather than comparing their experience against a general or expected idea of a label.

Module 7: The Blobfish and the Mythosymbolic

See this post.

Module 8: Gender is deep and psychological, but it’s also institutional

There are two sides to gender, and you can describe the dichotomy in several ways depending on your perspective. Personal vs social. Positive vs negative. Freedom vs oppression. Basically, gender is deep and psychological, but it’s also institutional. The deep psychological aspect is identity, forming attachments to social norms, self expression. It’s internal, and if allowed to flourish, a positive thing. “Let people enjoy things.”

The institutional aspect is oppression. Masculinity inherently comes with some power to oppress, femininity with the potential to be oppressed. It’s societal, and a negative force in the world [see Module 1].

The fucked up thing is that you couldn’t have the positive without the negative. You can’t have attachments to these social norms without the (often oppressive) institutional social norms in the first place!

The silver lining to this is that we don’t have the option to choose both or neither, so at least we don’t have to waste time agonising over the choice between revolution or status quo. We can’t get away from gender as humans [see Module 5] so it ties our hands and forces us to deal with what we have. As Alexander Avila says, “We live in a society where people are really attached to these norms and they form a fundamental part of our understanding of who we are. And like, we couldn’t even be coherent individuals without them at this point” (link to video). In which case, we should do our best to allow the positive personal aspects of gender to have as much freedom as possible, while minimising the damage caused by the institutional social aspects of gender (through laws, etc).

[existential-life-crisis]

☆ Get to know me :) (updated)☆

Hi! A bit of info to start with: I'm a minor; a lesbian; and a cis girl (she/her).

Ethnicity and language

I live in England and currently only speak English fluently however I am currently studying both French and German! (German is definitely my favourite of the 2)

Subjects and Interests

My favourite subjects are Maths and Classical Civilisation but I enjoy most subjects. (Lessons can still suck tho bc dam some teachers can be boring)

I enjoy drawing, playing games, reading (books and fics), listening to music and watching youtube.

Video games

I have a few favourite games at the minute:

• Hades

• Horizon: Zero Dawn and Forbidden West

• Genshin Impact

Finished games I still love:

• Astro Bot (its a vr game abt a little robot)

• Spiderman PS4

• Spiderman PS5 Miles Morales

• Portal 1 and 2 ♡♡♡

I am also 100% a completionist so if I finish a game I probably have 100% on it.

Reading

My fav books are everything Rick Riordan but i plan to read some other stuff as well soon.

My fav characters from the main series are Nico, Leo, Frank and Lester/Apollo but I do love pretty much all of the main cast. I haven't read Magnus Chase or Kane Chronicles since I was a kid so I'm gonna reread those before deciding favourites but I think they were Alex and Carter. Also, in love with all of the side characters even if they are 90% hc.

My fav canon ships/friendships are

• solangelo (Will x Nico)

• percabeth (Percy x Annabeth)

• frazel (Frank x Hazel) (But I do hc that either Frank was younger or Hazel was older bc the age gap was a bit strange in canon, being 13 and 16. Its a bit inconsistent , as all ages are in PJO, but if time works normally Hazel should be 14 and therefore definitely older than Nico too but thats a topic for another time)

• shelper (or shipper as I like to call them) (Shel x Piper)

• Lost trio (platonic)

• PJO trio (platonic) (Grover my baby, why must they always forget you)

• Lester and Meg (I dont think i have to say this but platonic) (please say I don't have to say that. No one ships that right)

• Reyna and Thalia (platonic) (omg let aroace characters exist in peace) (no hate if u ship it but my gods)

Fanon ships/friendships

• Valgrace (Leo x Jason) (but aroace Leo is still amazing)

• Pollen (Apollo x Darren) (Is this entirely about Dear Reader by wrongcaitlyn? Yes. Do I care? Nope. Am I insanly invested in their relationship? Oh absolutely.)

• Nico and Leo (platonic) (This had no reason to not be canon and had every reason to be and I will never forgive Rick for this until he fixes it)

• Frank and Leo (platonic) (I swear every book they would fix their relationship and then as soonas the next one starts they would hate each other again)

• Nico and evey side character ever (platonic) (especially year round campers) (bc hes genuinely just a nice guy)

• Will and Clarrise (platonic) (this is kinda canon but all we really know is that he can calm her down)

Feel free to ask for fic recs if u want them.

Music

My fav music artist is 'Grandson'. (He writes rock/alternative/indie/rap (?) music often about political/social/personal issues.)

But I listen to tons of other kinds of music too from metal to pop to instrumentals by a ton of different artists:

• Måneskin (italian rock band)

• Polyphia (instumental, primarily guitar, math rock)

• Chappell Roan (yk who that is)

• Chase Atlantic (u have probably heard at least 1 of their songs, pop/alternative/indie/r&b)

• Dutch Melrose (alternative/indie/pop)

• Mother Mother (yk who that is right?)

• Eminem (right?)

• MSI (punk/alternative/rock)

And a whole lot more

I also play guitar (acoustic and electic).

TV

Loveeee Spiderman: Into and Across the spider verse.

My fav characters are Miles, Hobie, Pavitr, Spidernoir and Gwen but I love all of them.

Shows:

• Avatar the Last Airbender

• The Legend of Korra

• Batman: the animated series

• Voltron :)

Beliefs

Im an atheist but I support people of all religions. I support Palestine. I am left liberal (again I'm British so keep that in mind, I know nothing abt US politics besides the basic/well known stuff). I believe in equal rights for all groups and am open to other ideas and perspectives.

If you cant respect that then please get of my page. You don't have to agree with me but you do have to respect me and others.

Thats all for now.

Byeee ♡♡♡

[blubushie]

You've said you've worked as a stationhand-what's that like?

Only if you want to talk about it of course, but it sounds really interesting!

What kind of skills and knowledge are involved, what a day looks like, that sort of thing :)

I was less a stationhand (though I did do that too) but primarily a stockman, what Americans would call a cowboy, and specifically a drover--someone who drives animals from place to place. Primarily all I needed was confidence in the saddle, quick thinking, fast reflexes, and a soft voice that the cattle liked. Also gentleness and a level head. That bit's important since cattle are frustrating to work with sometimes but you can't take your anger out on them. Some ropework was involved but it was very rare and only used for tagging cattle. Most of the time we approached calves on foot for tagging/branding and the horse kept the cow from getting to us. A stockman's best mate is the horse what watches his back.

General day was waking up at sparrow's fart (or already being awake depending on who took the pre-dawn shift) then getting ready. The rest of the drovers stay with the cattle, one person wanders off to wash up. This repeats and takes about 30 minutes to go through all four of us, but depending on the size of the mob it might be upwards of an hour if there was seven of us. We come back clean, someone makes brekkie (which usually just consists of someone [me] digging a pit, making fire, boiling water from a canteen, and making coffee or tea for everyone). Brekkie (and all other meals) consists of jerky, crackers, or damper one of us makes in the evening before nightwatch starts. Works out just fine.

We'd finish drinking, discuss that day's schedule, track where we are and discuss what we're doing and do the maths for how long it'll take to get where we're going. After we get everything planned out we pack our shit away, I'd go unhobble the horses, we all saddle them, and we get the mob moving again. If we're only using horses (as sometimes fourwheelers are involved) I take the flank of the mob and yell at them or crack my stockwhip to keep them moving. I never hit the cattle with the stockwhip. The cracking sound is all they need, but sometimes more obstinate animals get a little bump with the end of the whip to keep them moving or run them back into the mob if they straggle. Mustermaster (or "boss drover," I always call them boss) would lead us from the front and keep record of the maps, cattle, and men. Anything goes wrong, it's his arse on the line.

Generally it was very boring work. We'd sing as we rode, usually call-and-response songs. I shined through when someone would break away from the mob and I'd have to chase them down. Never took longer than twenty minutes, but racing after a piker especially in thicker bush is something that just makes you feel alive. You start breathing in time with your horse because you can feel her ribs move against your calves. It's an amazing feeling, and it requires some outsmarting. You stay on the bullock's tail and crack your whip long enough until he'll keep running even when you let off, and then you have to circle around in your horse to broadside him so he banks back into the mob. It's an all-around great experience.

My favourite time was night. I'm a night-owl in the bush (less so in civilisation) and I usually got nightwatch and would spend my night singing to the cattle with one of the other blokes while the other two slept. The sound helps keep them calm and relaxed through the night and prevents a rush (what Americans would know as a stampede) if they're spooked by something, since they often can't hear other small noises over their stockman singing. When you're awake at the start of the night and the dingos are about, it's actual lyrics and voices. Old bush ballads, country songs, lullabies our mums would sing to us as nippers. It's an eerie sound, and me and my muster-mate would ride through the mob at a slow walk on our horses and just circle. We'd alternate lyrics. So long as we'd alternate between us, we'd know everything was in good order, even when we couldn't see each other.

Me: One Sunday morning as I went walking by Brisbane waters I chanced to stray...

Mate: I heard a prisoner, his fate bewailing, as on the sunny riverbank he lay...

Me: I am a native of Erin's Island, transported now from my native shore...

Mate: They tore me from my aged parents and from the maiden whom I adore...

Me: I've been a prisoner at Port Macquarie, at Norfolk Island and Emu Plains...

Mate: At Castle Hill and cursed Toongabbie, at all those settlements I've worked in chains...

Me: But of all places of condemnation and penal stations of New South Wales...

Mate: Of Moreton Bay I have found no equal. Excessive tyranny each day prevails...

The more the night carried on, the less we sang as we got more tired. Eventually we'd simply whistle tunes back and forth. Waltzing Matilda was our usual go-to, but Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport was another one we did a lot. Halfway through the night we'd switch with whoever was sleeping during nightwatch and get some rest. All-in-all I got about seven hours of sleep a night, give or take. It worked out great and I loved doing it.

[sparklecryptid]

'i only died a little bit' will never not be funny,, why is hades surprised?? this is azem's shard and for all their intelligence they also do the most reckless shit imaginable, haha.

at least hades has experience building up civilisations, so maybe WoL and Daeus can guilt him into helping rebuild after the Night!!

It’s like this: you saved the world, the universe eve, from a death that is undeserved. You played your part. You got to be the big hero. Your friends were saved! Sure, they will have to live on without you - the last bastard fucking disemboweled you - but that’s a small price to pay in the scheme of things.

So you close your eyes. You think of all the friends you made. You think of those you will never get to see again. You think of a prince thrust upon the throne of his country when he didn’t want it - not that soon at least - and then you find yourself waking up in place full of endless blue light.

In front of you stands that prince - the king who didn’t want to be king - and he is older now, the same age as you are now. It has been three years for your since you’ve seen him but it looks to be longer for him. Across from him is a man full of darkness and hate and buried light and the first thing you think is ‘voidsent’.

You don’t have time to linger on that idea. A blade falls in front you and you look up to find what seems to be a Primal in front of you and well-

You are the eikon-slayer are you not?

You lift your blades and fight. You learn from that fight that you are interfering. That there is a prophecy in motion that demands the life of your friend and-

Well you can’t allow that, can you? The world could demand anything it wanted of you but it had better leave your friends out of it.

The eikon falls. You sigh and march over to the man that’s too much darkness and smothered light. It’s easy to bring that light in him to bloom again, easier still to guide it to chase out the dark.

“There,” you say, nodding as you step away from him, “That’s better.”

Spinning to look at Noctis you blink at the blinding light of his soul.

“Well, that’s not good,” you say, “Get over here.”

-

So here’s the thing; when you died (it was only for a little bit) you remembered things you shouldn’t have. You remembered life as Azem, you remembered Hades and Hythlodaeus and everyone else. It makes you ache a bit as Noctis squints up at you as a dawn rises through the cracked ruins of his familys’ palace but your feelings can be dealt with later.

At least that’s what you think until a ball of darkness comes shooting out of the just opened doors and directly at you. You block it - of course you do - and complain.

“Hades!” You call out as the man marches toward with intention, “Is that anyway to greet an old friend?”

Your eyes dart to Hythlodaeus for help only to find him looking at you with the smile he wears when he’s angry enough to do something about it.

Hm.

Calling Hythlodaeus for help seems like a bad idea. You stop patching Noctis together - he’ll have to deal with a thin layer of scabs over his wounds for the next few days unless Hades lets you get to them - and backpedal rapidly.

“You idiot!” Hades voice is full of threat. It is angrier than it should be, you think as thin red strands of magic shoot toward you and you dodge just in time to avoid them. “You died! After all we did! You died!”

“Well,” you say aware of the audience and the fact your friend Noctis now has his bodyguards blocking him from both you and Hades, “It was only a little bit. Besides, shouldn’t you be used to me dying? You’ve seen it before.”

Foot meet mouth. Hades stops in his tracks, Hythlodaeus’ fingers twitch like he’s considering whether or not to tie you to a chair to make sure you stay put and don’t get hurt. Hades’ gold eyes burn when he looks at you.

“Chronos.” Hades says and oh, that’s a name you haven’t heard in several lifetimes. “I’m going to kill you.”

You yelp and duck to the side just as the red threads Hades’ uses to ensnare his enemies attempts to engulf you.

Someone coughs. Hades stops. The three of you turn to look at the four others in the room.

“Someone mind telling us what’s going on?” The burly guy asks.

“Hades and I have a dear friend in front of us, that friend is now standing in front of us. We are rather distraught about it so I was going to let Hades fight them for a little bit.”

[thxnews]

Defending Britain in a More Dangerous World

Grant Shapps' Vision for National Security

Defence Secretary Grant Shapps recently delivered a compelling speech at Lancaster House in London, addressing the evolving threats facing Britain and the measures needed to ensure national security. Reflecting on the past, Shapps drew parallels with the optimism of the post-Cold War era, noting how contemporary threats differ significantly from those of the past.   The Following is the Exact Speech as Delivered Thirty-five years ago, Margaret Thatcher gave a short speech here in Lancaster House. She spoke of her optimism about the changes taking place between East and West. Barely two weeks later the Berlin Wall fell. It was the dawn of a new era. Existential threats were banished. And a new global feel good factor spread to Defence. This was the age of the peace dividend. The notion that while our defences should be maximised at times of tension they could be minimised in times of peace. Conflict didn’t disappear of course. But with no great power menacing the continent, peace gave the impression of being just around the corner. Yet, not everyone got the memo. In fact our adversaries were mobilising. The belligerent autocratic state was making a comeback - havin got away with the illegal annexation of Crimea in 2014, Putin launched his brutal invasion of Ukraine eight years later. And as Russia continues its illegal campaign in Ukraine, China is assessing whether the West loses its patience. Today, Russia and China have been joined by new nuclear, and soon to be nuclear, powers. North Korea promising to expand its own nuclear arsenal. And then there is Iran, whose enriched uranium is up to 83.7%, a level at which there is no civilian application. Back in the days of the Cold War there remained a sense that we were dealing with rational actors. But these new powers are far more unstable, and irrational. Can we really assume the strategy of Mutually Assured Destruction that stopped wars in the past will stop them in future, when applied to the Iranian Revolutionary Guard or North Korea? I am afraid we cannot. Particularly since there is now another new worrying consideration: Our adversaries are now more connected with each other. For example, we have seen how Iranian proxies are causing havoc from Israel to the Red Sea. That Russia has what the two countries describe as a “no limits partnership” with China - with whom they conduct regular joint exercises. Meanwhile, Putin is relying on Iranian drones and North Korean ballistic missiles to fuel his illegal bombardment in Ukraine. With friends like these, the world is becoming more dangerous and has done in recent years. But the other threats that plagued the start of the 21st century haven’t gone away. The spectre of terrorism and threats from non-state actors, as October 7 showed, still haunts the civilised world. Put it all together, and these combined threats risk tearing apart the rules-based international order – established to keep the peace after the Second World War. Today’s world then, is sadly far more dangerous. With the UN reporting that we are facing the highest number of violent conflicts since the Second World War. Now some argue these threats are not existential to the UK. And yet, what happens elsewhere, quickly happens here. In the past few years we’ve seen terror attacks on the streets of London, attempted assassinations in Salisbury, theft of Intellectual Property, attempted interference in our political processes, a cost-of-living crisis, brought to you by Putin, that’s hurting families here at home. And now, our trade. 90 per cent of which comes by sea, is the target of terrorists. Proving that not only do our adversaries have the intent to target us but they have a widening array of weapons with which to wreak havoc. In our online world our adversaries don’t need to jump in a tank board a sub or strap into a fighter jet to hurt us. Cyber warfare simply means hacking into our networks and watching the economic carnage unfold. Last year, almost a third of businesses in the UK suffered a cyber breach or attack. And the total cost to the UK economy runs into billions. We know significant numbers of these attacks come from Russia and China where they are also developing satellite killing technology, capable of degrading us from space. Even mass migration can be cynically used against us as a weapon of war, as Poland, Norway, and Finland have been experiencing. In other words, nation states plus non-state actors with greater connections between them plus more creative weapons all adds up to more trouble for the world. Over the last decade this government has made great strides to turn the Defence tanker around. The refreshes of the Integrated Review and Defence Command Paper have been instrumental in ensuring Britain is defended in this more dangerous world. We’ve uplifted our defence spending – investing billions into modernising our Armed Forces and bringing in a raft of next generation capabilities, from new aircraft carriers to F35s; from new drones to Dreadnought submarines; from better trained troops; to the creation of a national cyber force. And when the world needed us, we have risen to the moment. Giving Ukraine our unwavering support and galvanising others to their cause, including with our biggest ever funding package, announced last week. Taking action, we work to stamp out the global ambitions of Daesh. We’ve acted at the forefront of global responses to maintain regional stability after October 7th by sending a Royal Navy Task Group, a company of Royal Marines, surveillance planes and lifesaving aid to Gaza. And taking a lead role within global forces to protect freedom of navigation in the Red Sea. Not only that but we’ve strengthened Britain’s place in the world with expanded partnerships from the Gulf to the Indo-Pacific. We’re playing a major part in stirring the West into a renewed commitment to defence, using our 2014 NATO summit in Newport to bring Alliance nations together to stop the rot, by committing to spending 2 per cent of GDP on Defence. Today, for the very first time this government is spending more than £50bn a year on Defence in cash terms, more than ever before. And we have made the critical decision to set out our aspiration to reach 2.5% of GDP spent on defence. And as we stabilise and grow the economy, we will continue to strive to reach it as soon as possible. But now is the time for all allied and democratic nations across the world to do the same. And ensure their defence spending is growing. Because, as discussed, the era of the peace dividend is over. In five years’ time we could be looking at multiple theatres involving Russia, China, Iran and North Korea. Ask yourselves – looking at today’s conflicts across the world - is it more likely that the number grows, or reduces? I suspect we all know the answer – it’s likely to grow. So, 2024 must mark an inflexion point. For Ukraine, this will be a year when the fate of their nation may be decided. For the world, this will be the greatest democratic year in history with nearly half of the world’s population going to the polls. And for the UK it must also be a moment to decide the future of our national defences. The choice is stark. Some people, especially on the left, have a tendency to talk Britain down. They believe Britain can no longer have the power to influence world events. That we should somehow shrink into ourselves and ignore what’s happening beyond our shores. I passionately believe these unpatriotic, Britain belittling doom-mongers are simply wrong. Their way would lead us sailing blindly into an age of autocracy. So we must make a different choice. And the history of our great island nation shows us the way. Britain has often accomplished the seemingly impossible before. Our history is littered with moments when we faced down the threat and triumphed. But looking ahead, we are in a new era and we must be prepared to deter our enemies, lead our allies, and defend our nation. In terms of deterrence, it’s about the UK gaining a strategic advantage over our enemies. The foundation of that advantage is, of course, our nuclear enterprise. At a time of mounting nuclear danger, our continuous at sea deterrent provides the ultimate protection. And that’s why we are spending around £31bn to bring in next generation Dreadnought submarines and upgrade our deterrent. In a more contested world, we need to bring that same goal of deterrence to our conventional forces – so we have made modernisation a critical priority. Taking the long-term capability decisions we need to transform our Armed Forces into a formidable deterrent. Enabling them to maintain the UK’s strategic advantage and empowering them to be able to deliver the outcomes we need in multiple theatres at once. The growing success of that work was powerfully shown last week when, in less than 24 hours, the UK was able to both take action to defend ourselves against the Houthis and uplift our support to Ukraine to new record levels. If Putin thought we’d be distracted by the events in the Middle East then last week, because of the long-term decisions this government has taken, his hopes were surely dashed. In a complex world, no nation can afford to go it alone, so we must continue strengthening our alliances so the world knows they cannot be broken. Defence is in many ways the cornerstone of our relations across the world. Our world leading Armed Forces, cutting-edge industrial base and willingness to support our allies is the reason why Britain is the partner of choice for so many. And among our partnerships, NATO remains pre-eminent. 75 years after its foundation, today NATO is bigger than ever. But the challenges are bigger too. That’s why the UK has committed nearly the totality of our air, land and maritime assets to NATO. But, in 2024, I am determined to do even more. Which is why I can announce today that UK will be sending some 20,000 personnel to lead one of NATO’s largest deployments since the end of the Cold War, Exercise Steadfast Defender. It will see our military joining forces with counterparts from 30 NATO countries plus Sweden, providing vital reassurance against the Putin menace. Our carrier strike group will be out in full force, with our magnificent flagship HMS Queen Elizabeth leading the way. And flying from her decks will be the fifth generation F35 lightning jets, accompanied by a fearsome phalanx of frigates, destroyers and helicopters. We’ll also have a submarine patrolling the depths and one of our Poseidon P8 aircraft conducting surveillance from the skies above, and more than 400 of our brilliant Royal Marines will be training in the Artic Circle, contending with some of the toughest environments anywhere on the planet. On land, we’ll be deploying over 16,000 soldiers, led by our 7th Light Mechanised Brigade Combat Team which superbly led our recent response in Kosovo. All of which, makes this our largest deployment of land forces to NATO for 40 years. But NATO is only part of our rich tapestry of partnerships. And this government has taken bold decisions to embark on the partnerships we need to defend ourselves from a more dangerous world. We are rapidly building our AUKUS partnership. And last month I signed our Global Combat Air Partnership (or GCAP) with Japan and Italy. These projects are not just about building nuclear powered subs, sixth generation fighter planes, and innovating in all forms of Defence. They are about sharpening our strategic edge so we can maintain our advantage over our adversaries. They are precisely the deep relationships needed to preserve national and regional security. And they’re emblematic of the way we will work in the future. But it’s not enough to deter. We must lead. Standing up for our values around the world. And Ukraine is a test case. This year, its future may well be decided. Valiant Ukrainian warriors have had incredible success pushing back invading Russian forces, retaking 50 per cent of the territory stolen by Russia, opening up a maritime passage in the Black Sea. But the West must not let them down. British leadership has already had a galvanising effect. We’ve convened some 10 countries to help Ukrainians train here in the UK. And today I can announce that our programmes have now trained over 60,000 Ukrainian troops since Russia launched its invasion of Ukraine in 2014. Last month, I launched a new maritime coalition with Norway to defend Ukraine’s maritime flank. Since then, over 20 partner nations have joined that coalition. But the international community cannot let this support slip. Putin believes the West lacks staying power. And since the future of the world order is at stake, we must prove him wrong. Rewarding his war with victory would only increase the risk of escalation. Not only because he’s hell bent on rebuilding the Russian empire. But because it would signal weakness to other would-be aggressors. That is why on Friday the Prime Minister signed the historic UK-Ukraine Agreement on Security Cooperation. The start of a 100-year alliance that we are building with our Ukrainian friends. It sees us increasing our military support to £2.5bn – taking the total of UK military aid to more than £7bn. With even more gifted directly from the UK’s equipment inventory. £200m will be pressed into producing and procuring thousands of drones, including surveillance and long-range strike drones. This continues the UK’s proud record as a leading donor - always being the first to get Ukraine exactly what they need. The UK was the first to provide Ukraine with weapons training, the first to provide NLAW anti-tank missiles, the first to give modern tanks, the first to send long range missiles. Now we will become the largest provider of drones too. These will be manufactured here in the UK in tandem with international partners, helping to enhance our unmanned vehicle capabilities at home too. But our new agreement with Ukraine is about so much more than money. It formalises our support in everything from intelligence sharing and cyber security to medical and military training. And it sees us taking the first giant step towards a century long partnership. Britain understands that the battle in Ukraine is existential, it proves there is no such thing as an isolated conflict. And that to shore up the international order, we must be able to act globally. So, just as we were there to help evacuate British citizens from Sudan last year, just as we are working with partners to ensure the territorial integrity of our Commonwealth ally Guyana, we have also been a critical part of the US-led international operation to protect freedom of navigation in the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. Some 15 per cent of the world’s shipping passes through these narrow shipping lanes. But the Houthis have persistently violated the law by menacing commercial vessels in the region. In the Red Sea we have seen how our brilliant Royal Navy had to act to defend itself against the intolerable and growing number of Houthi attacks. And earlier this month the world sent a very clear message to the Iranian-backed Houthis. End your illegal and unjustified actions. Stop risking innocent lives. Cease threatening the global economy. We could not have been clearer with our warnings, which they chose to ignore. And enough was enough. So last Thursday, the Prime Minister and I authorised RAF precision strikes using four RAF Typhoon FGR4s and supported by two Voyager air refuelling tankers. The result is the Houthis have been dealt a blow. Our decisive response in the Red Sea and our uplift in support for Ukraine offer a direct blueprint for how the UK must continue to lead in the future. Offering our unwavering support to our allies, and in times of struggle galvanising global responses to any malign actor seeking to break the rules based international order, and acting decisively when the moment calls for us to defend ourselves. So, deter and lead, which brings me to the final essential element of being prepared. Defending our nation. If we are to defend our homeland, we must ensure our entire defence eco-system is ready. Firstly, we must make our industry more resilient to empower us to re-arm, re-supply and innovate far faster than our opponents. There’s a huge opportunity here for British industry. The UK has long been a by-word for pioneering technologies. We gave the world radar, the jet-engine and the world wide web. We’ve not lost that spark of creativity. On the contrary, today the UK is one of only three $1 trillion tech economies. But just imagine what we could do if we managed to better harness that latent inspiration, ingenuity and invention for the Defence of our nation? Just think about the game-changing tech we could supply to our brave men and women. From the pilots ready to scramble at a moment’s notice to the soldiers protecting NATO’s flanks from Putin’s fury. To the sailors deployed across the seven seas to secure our prosperity. To our absolutely essential Royal Marine Commandos, without whom we could not properly defend our nation. To those you will never see and never know but who are out there, giving their all, on your behalf. They are the cornerstone of our defence and we owe them an unimaginable debt of gratitude. Which is why my commitment to getting them what they deserve is iron cast. After all, our greatest resource has always been the men and women who work tirelessly to protect our great nation. But to defend our nation from the increasing dangers of tomorrow, they must have what they need to do the job. That’s why this Conservative government has always and has already taken vital steps to increase defence spending, approving the largest sustained increase in defence spending since the Cold War – injecting a further £5 billion last year to replenish our stocks and modernise our nuclear enterprise. Delivering the largest cash terms defence budget ever. Spending over £50 billion on the defence of our nation. And just last week, not only maintaining our support to Ukraine but increasing it to its highest level ever. To some the costs may seem steep – but Britain cannot afford to reverse the spending gains we have made. And under this Conservative government we never will. And we will use our influence to ensure other allies and friends, faced with this new reality, and match our commitment. So, we find ourselves at the dawn of a new era. The Berlin Wall a distant memory. And we have come full circle. Moving from a post-war to a pre-war world. An age of idealism has been replaced by a period of hard-headed realism. Today our adversaries are busily rebuilding their barriers. Old enemies are reanimated. New foes are taking shape. Battle lines are being redrawn. The tanks are literally on Europe’s Ukrainian lawn. Read the full article

[angryschnauzer]

Full Mast

Summary: Your idyllic life as a trophy wife of a rich lord is suddenly disturbed with the arrival of a pirate ship and a mutiny... what will your husband do to save you from the pirates grasp?

Fandoms: Henry Cavill, Sand Castle - Movie, Mission Impossible: Fallout, Night Hunter, Hellraiser Hellworld

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader.

A/N: This is a CRACK FIC. After a brief discussion with @nuggsmum about the cheap romance novels that you could find in the 80′s and 90′s, i called upon the awful storylines, plot holes, and general cheesyness of those books that walked so fanfiction could run. Read the warnings please.

Storyboard note: The only artwork i could find that was suitable to show a Henry-like character included the woman seen above. I tried to crop as much of her out as possible, the story itself does not describe the female reader at all.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Very Dubious Consent, Dub-con, public fingering, public sex, shackles, imprisonment, very corny word choices that echo back to the romance novels. 

Full Mast

You resisted the strong arms that pulled you along, the rough blindfold shielding you from your destination, and yet you could hear the call of the gulls so you knew you were near to the shoreline. The cloth tied tightly around your mouth to gag you overwhelmed your senses, the rich musk of male sweat reminding you in no uncertain terms that these were far from civilised men that had snatched you away from your husbands rose garden as you’d been quietly cutting blooms in the dewy morning light.

The ground beneath your feet changed from loose earth to cobblestones, and you could smell the stench of the docks; of the gutted fish and the slop buckets, of the morning after the night before sailors' tavern. You had never been inside but had heard tales of the men that frequented it; dark and dangerous, men that circled the globe as well as the law. Your husband had regaled you with stories of such men, no doubt to frighten you from wandering off, but the man your father had arranged for you to be married to was but two generations your senior, old enough to be your grandfather, and rarely finished a story without veering off to start another. You’d had no say in the matter, the Lord had paid your father a princely sum for your hand in marriage, ignoring your pleas and protests. It had been three months since your father had hopped upon a spice ship returning to Europe with his gold, forgetting about his only daughter.

“Almost there” a gruff voice uttered, and you were suddenly hoisted over a wide shoulder

“Mmmmfff!” you exclaimed around the gag, but your protests were not heard as the men climbed the gangplank and aboard a vessel. Soon you were tied and thrown into a small room, left alone in the darkness as you heard the ship being prepared for sail.

-

The ship was on the open water when you were pulled out into the bright daylight, having managed to work the blindfold lose you were now wishing it was still in place, the bright carribean morning sunshine now blinding you as it glinted on the crystal blue waters. Big men stared hungrily at you as you were dragged across the deck to a small staircase that led up to the ships wheel and that’s when you saw him;

“Captain! Here she is!”

The big man at the wheel grinned, his bushy beard and cropped hair doing little to distract you from his piercing blue eyes that shone with a marked interest. Nodding to a young dark haired man he handed the control of the wheel over before quickly descending the stairs and landing steadily on his booted feet just inches from where you stood. With a toothy grin he looked down at you, his gaze falling to your heaving bosom where the stays of your corset had become loose in the struggle, licking his lips before he addressed one of the men gripping your arms;

“Well ain’t she a peach… caught a good one here Constable”

Your attention snapped to the man at your side and you suddenly realised who he was; Walter Marshall; the town constable. His wild and unruly hair and stone cold stare had kept order in town for as long as you’d lived on the island, but you recalled the last town meeting that had been held at your husband’s mansion had been far from smooth, with a number of towns people getting into a heated argument with the lords and gentry, Constable Marshall being one of them.

“You can still smell the roses on her Sy” the man on your other side commented.

The Captains beard tickled your cheek as he leaned forwards and inhaled, his nose brushing against your bare neck and sending a shiver down your spine, the whimper that escaped your throat barely audible and yet he pulled back, a faint look of surprise on his face that was quickly replaced with a smirk;

“She might be smellin’ of sumthin’ else once we’re done with her” he paused and nodded to the man on your other side; “Walker, shackle her to the rigging chest, we’ll be in the shadows of horseshoe cove shortly until it's time to do the sail past… her husband will realise paying the towns folk their dues is the only way to ensure he can live his idyllic life”

-

An hour of being chained to the enormous storage chest had given you time to watch the goings on of the ship, the way the men worked together, and you’d learned a thing or two about what had seemed to be your boring and idyllic island life had in fact been a town of corruption and mutiny. Captain Syverson had been a Navy Captain, retired once injured but seemingly now fully healed. Walker had been Infantry with the Fusiliers and was a crack shot with both a pistol and a rifle. Of course you already knew of Constable Marshall, and from eavesdropping the conversations you’d learned that they had scuttled the entire islands ships; anything the gentry owned was out of service and unable to sail. With the fishing fleet having left for open waters at dawn there wasn’t a single seaworthy vessel left on the island. Covert operations had meant the fuses for the island’s canons had all been removed in the dead of night, meaning a quick attack would be out of the question. Captain Syverson planned to sail just out of shot reach of your husbands mansion, the ransom note having already been delivered that morning an hour after your disappearance, and only the sign of a yellow flag being waved would ensure your safe return. 

When the dark haired deck hand suddenly came to sit next to you, you were surprised as he started to remove the scarf that still acted as a gag;

“Don’t scream, ok? Capt’n has told me to make sure you drink, he doesn’t want you passing out from thirst”

You nodded and the younger man carefully untied the scarf, before taking the earthenware flagon and lifted it to your lips, the cool ale it held soothing your parched throat. Tipping it a little too much it spilled from your mouth and onto your chest, his eyes going wide in fear;

“I… I can’t touch you… Captain’s orders”

“It’ll dry, its hot out today”

“You’re surprisingly unafraid”

“Should i be afraid?”

He shrugged;

“Dunno. I’m Mikey by the way”

“Aren’t you a little young to be a Pirate?”

Mikey shrugged;

“I guess it was just the inevitable”

Through the conversation that followed you found yourself telling him all about yourself; how your father had basically sold your hand, how your husband was literally only on paper, having far more predilection for the handsome young footman than for you. Mid sentence the Captain’s voice boomed across the deck;

“Mikey! Back to work!”

“Yes Capt’n”

-

When you heard the bells chime of the church on the hill to say it was noon you were moved, the ship sailing around the side of the island and into position 100ft from the shoreline of your husband’s property. With your arms pulled above your head, you were tied to the base of the mast, the big captain coming to stand at your side, his eyes glancing at your breasts as they threatened to spill from your corset that had become loose and had slid down your ribcage.

“What do you see Walker?” 

Peering through the spyglass the moustached man paused before he spoke;

“No yellow flag Captain… wait a moment... they’re using semaphores” He was referring to the message flags that the Navy used to send messages from passing ship to passing ship, each small triangular flag each meaning a different seafaring reference; “Hang on… ‘No duties owed’”

The Captain roared and grabbed the spyglass, peering through before grunting  and handing it back;

“Lets see if we can change his mind, eh?”

Pulling his knife from his thigh holster he hooked the blade beneath the stays of your corset, tearing the garment in two and watching as it fell to the deck at your feet, your breasts now on full show and greeted with a wild cheer from the crew. Syverson turned to Walker;

“How about now?”

He peered through the spyglass before letting out a defeated sigh;

“Same again… no duties owed”

“So, he’s sticking to his guns… let’s kick this up a level”

Turning back to you he smirked;

“This ain't personal sweetheart…”

To your surprise the big man started to gather your skirts, your eyes wide as he pulled up your petticoats and his large hand slid between your silky thighs, finding you without your undergarments and he cocked an eyebrow;

“Your men found me before I had dressed fully for the day”

“I ain’t complainin’ sweetheart, makes it easier to find…”

His hand found your petals and you groaned quietly as he discovered you slick and ready, his calloused fingers seeking out your clit before he slid two into your velvet channel, filling you more than your own fingers ever had;

“Tight little thing, aren’t ya? Your husband got a small dick?”

You turned your head to face him, emboldened by the wanton display;

“I wouldn’t know, i’ve never seen it”

The Captain froze;

“Fuck”

His hand stopped, still inside you and you could feel your walls trembling with excitement around his digits as his men approached, Walker and Marshall both having heard your admission;

“Sy… we gotta continue, we’re owed for three months pay from the Lord…”

He nodded to the mansion;

“What’s the message?”

Checking again, Walker sighed;

“Return Cargo. No duties owed”

The Captain roared with anger;

“The fucking bastard! Every single man on this ship is owed half a years wages, and for what? Keeping his idyllic island life”

The look on his face had changed, and you finally saw the Pirate in him as he approached you, wrapping a big hand around the back of your neck and kissing you roughly. When you willingly opened your mouth and your tongue pushed against his it gave him the green light to go ahead, his body pressing you to the mast and you could feel his hardness pressing against the thin layers of your petticoats. With a flurry of hands he pulled your skirts up and unbuttoned his breaches, revealing his fat length, almost as thick as your wrist and patterned with veins. 

You may never have lain in the marital bed or known the intimate touch of a man, but you had sought your own pleasure with your fingers and even the occasional candle from your husbands drawing room. But you’d never had anything as large as the Captains throbbing length inside you. You hooked your leg over his hip, pulling him close even though your hands were still tied, and let out a cry of pleasure as his hot flesh speared your soaked cavern.

Syverson ravaged you against the mast, fucking you with such a fury that you could feel your body start to tighten around him, and with a cry you came, pressing your head back against the hard wood, a blissful smile across your face as you had your first ever orgasm that you hadn’t given yourself. You were vaguely aware of him pulling out, fisting his shaft and spilling his seed over your bare thighs, before your skirts were dropped and he was fastening himself back into his breeches;

“Well?” the Captain demanded of his men.

Constable Marshall cleared his throat;

“There’s a new semaphore… Cargo Abandoned”

“HE WHAT?” you spat out, filled with anger that your husband would just leave you to the Pirates.

“Very well” Syverson nodded; “Hoist the mainsail, we sail for Kingstown”

He turned to you whilst addressing his men;

“Get her down and have her taken to my cabin” he turned to you; “You ever sailed before?”

“Spent a decade on spice ships Captain” to which he nodded.

“At least you have your sea legs then”

Mikey had unshackled you and was stripping himself of his vest, helping you to slip it onto your arms so you could cover your naked chest.

“Michael?” the captain boomed; “... find her some of the chests of finery we took from that French vessel a couple of months ago”

“Yes Father”

“He’s your father!?”

Mikey nodded;

“Welcome aboard The Cavillry. We’re like one big family here”

Just then the bow hit a wave as it reached the deeper waters, spray splashing up and soaking you, much to Mikey’s amusement;

“You’ll get used to being wet here”

Part 2 Link HERE

-

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Masterlist can be found on AO3, link HERE

[homunculus-argument]

Listening to videos about the history of fashion while I work - apparently there have been people complaining about “people these days” blurring gender lines and women being more masculine and men more feminine ever since someone decided that it’s good idea to write peoples’ thoughts down. And I started thinking about sexual dimorphism in general.

Whether a species is sexually dimorphic - that is, whether the male and female of an animal look different to one-another or not - is dictated by their reproductive habits. The appearance of animals where males and females look different, such as many birds, deer with their antlers, and even primates whose males are larger than females, is dictated by behaviour. Males compete with each other over multiple females, and don’t particularly contribute to caring for their young. Having a large harem of females and a large flock of offspring is a numbers game, quantity over quality, and the female ones either tolerate the strongest male who fought off all the others, or simply pick the prettiest one since good looks are the only thing he’s going to give her offspring.

 Species where partners mate for life - from swans and wolves to gibbons - tend to look quite similar regardless of sex. The males will care for their own young, and there is no point in wasting energy and resources to flashy appearance in order to attract a mate when a good personality will do just as well, nor being particularly large in order to fight other males.

 Like in many other things, humans are somewhat of a mixed bag, falling somewhere in between. There is sexual dimorphism, AMAB people are generally larger with more muscle mass and AFAB people have curvier bodies and distinct breasts regardless of whether they’re currently nursing, and having no “mating season”, the signs that a woman is ovulating are so subtle that verifying that such things are real and observable at all has required multiple “who the hell even funded this research” kind of studies. It is possible for a man to go quality over quantity for offspring, and not only have men beat the shit out of each other over wanting the same woman since the dawn of time, some of the oldest tales, legends and oral histories that we have as a species are stories about them doing so.

 Connecting these two points, I would argue that it’s plausible that the human species is slowly sliding towards increasing androgyny and less sexual dimorphism. The world of private civilians is more peaceful now than it ever was, men fighting or killing each other in order to amass a large harem of women is frowned upon in most of the civilised world. Perhaps we are slowly shifting towards being a more monogamous, monomorphic species, first in behaviour and then in appearance.

Perhaps there is truth to the whole “men used to be men and women used to be women” line of complaints, and it isn’t simply just hot air of Men Who Don’t Like Being Ignored whining about other men’s long togas or women wearing pants. However, I would not consider this to be a negative thing. As a matter of fact, I would consider it ideal. Femboys and butch women aren’t a sign of societal decline, but harbringers of a more pleasant, peaceful future.

 In conclusion,

[mammalsofaction]

Even just from a world building and meta textual perspective, AT2D kicks absolute ass. You have VERY good taste my friend. If you're curious as to some good subtextual dark angst in the series though, (present possibilities, we exclude Heinz's tragic backstories for now), here's some good rewatch recommendations in a new light:

Cranius Maximus, S3, EP45: Is an entertaining twist on the A-plot C-plot routine. Here, the kids design a brain stimulator for Baljeet bc he thinks he got dumb over the summer. Long story short, he essentially became a mad scientist who tried to shift earth's atmosphere to the moon so he could analyse the stars better. It would have left the earth with NO atmosphere, and the whole episode was a tongue in cheek secret agent vs evil scientist roleplay....down to the trapping, decoys and monologuing. If Baljeet had won, we could've severely endangered the earth in general, and Phineas and Ferb would've been trapped and suffered knowing that THEY were indirectly responsible for that harm.

Undercover Carl, S2, EP42: Francis Monogram accused Carl of not being pro-active enough in his work performance review, and in a state of panic to prove him otherwise, Carl doctors a bunch of statements by Phineas to make him sound like he and his friends planned to help Dr Doofenshmirtz take over Tri State Area. Knowing Perry would be enraged if he found out they suspected his host family of wrong doing, they sent Agent P on a wild goose chase while Carl is sent undercover to find out what the kids were planning. The kids were VERY sweet and welcoming of this suspicious stranger, and he had so much fun with the invention of the day (an anti-gravity device) he forgets to check in with a VERY convinced and concerned Francis at an appropriate time. Francis reacts by dropping by the Flynn Fletcher house personally to check, and Carl hurriedly assures him he'd miscalculated in his earlier assumptions. Just at the nick of time....because Francis had summoned the SWAT army to apprehend the backyard gang. Carl had almost sent a bunch of innocent 10-year olds into OWCAtraz (a high security level detaining facility for the state's worst prisoners)...and Perry would have been none the wiser.

Where's Perry (1) and (2), S3, EPS 55 and 56 ; WP is definitely a gem not talked about enough in sheer angst potential. From an A plot, the backyard gang nearly falls to their death down a steep ravine at one point and their families wouldnt have figured it out, bc even Candace had embraced the jungle and left civilised society (she couldnt find signal for her phone). From a C plot perspective, Carl accidentally gets shot with the Make Everything Evil Inator, taking down OWCA from the inside and jailing all the agents, including Francis. He needed Perry's paw print for something, i think to access all of OWCA's tech all through the state as part of his plan to take over the Tri State Area. He had Perry hunted down with robot lookalikes of his own family, who had instructions to either capture him alive if possible, but cutting off his arm would do in a pinch.

Night of the Living Pharmacists, S4, EP 44: if you're part of the fandom, you'd know we have sung PRAISES about the angst potential of NOTLP. Where do i start. Its basically the dawn of a zombie apocalypse AU. There's no where to begin: the backyard gang get separated from the Fireside Girls and Isabella early on, and they quest to find each other while they lose survivors, one by one. The backyard gang loses Baljeet first, then Buford, Ferb, and finally Phineas. Candace finds out about Perry being a secret agent, before she goes, then Vanessa, then finally Perry himself, and Heinz bore witness to all of it, since he was immune. The three surviving witnesses by the end was Isabella, Doof and Stacy before they figured out the cure. They save the day....but the plague had spread beyond Danville. The entire world, in that case, had been zombified. In that timeline, Danville remains as the only Sanctuary. 10/10, give it a looksie.

Phineas and Ferb, Star Wars Special, S4, EP41: Ferb gets hit with the Sith Inator, which is the Star Wars-ified take on the Make Everything Evil Inator. Theres a scene where he tries to convince Phineas to join him on the dark side, and when he refuses, there is a fight to the death. Not actual death, its a happy ending (duh), but the angsty subtextual layers of the brainwashing is insane 🫡🫡🫡👍

Cheer Up, Candace, S2, EP29: The A plot is light and silly. Perry was fighting for his life tho, literally. Heinz had made a bunch of robotic Perry clones and sent them all to wreck havoc all over town to frame Perry for evil. OWCA attempts to apprehend Perry and send him to jail, and basically Perry had to hide from the agency AND his family while he finds Heinz to figure what was up and clear his own name. At DEI, he was forced up against DOZENS of extremely violent personal clones who were each beating him into submission. The angsty subtext is insane, bc what do you mean he was on the run from his own AGENCY, and he couldnt go home to spare his family, the two things he'd ever known, betrayed by a man he'd thought of as friend. If he'd lost at any point, his options were jail, death or indentured servitude to evil. And not to mention he would never see his family again.

The Remains of the Platypus, S3, EP34: This one's a bit unsettling, due to the non-linear storytelling, but its VERY fascinating and i beg you to give it a chance. Perry's shot with a Butler Inator, making him Heinz's evil minion and indentured servant. Again, Love some good brainwashing ethics.

Some more Honorable mentions for angst/potential angst because I could honestly be here all day:

Phineas and Ferb Save Summer

Primal Perry

No More Bunny Business

Return of the Rogue Rabbit

Meapless in Seattle (less angst, but there IS a brewing intergalactic war)

Phineas and Ferb and the temple of Juatchadoon (also less angst, though some betrayal happens)

Does anyone else think about how Phineas and Ferb basically doomed the universe to slowly loose all air in that episode with the tower or just me?

[prosaic-bun]

Patch 2.8 Divination session

*Based on leaks - possible spoilers*

This is an early guess of what could possibly happen event and story wise. What is anticipated and general foreboding: A lot of talks about a new Mondstadt region being released (DLC); Event rerun for Windblume festival; Mentions of a rerun of the Golden Apple Archipelago(GAA) ; Full double reruns for both banners - for a total of 4 characters getting a rerun; The current agreed upon line up would be something like: Kazuha and Klee with either Childe, Hu tao, Eula or Albedo; Heizou's release (4 stars); Last patch before 3.0 and Sumeru.

Event I actually believe we aren't going to have a Windblume festival rerun, but instead get Ludi Harpastum. Last time this festival was canonically celebrated was during Colleis' arc in the official Genshin Manga. Revisiting the event in game might allow us to get lore and information on Sumeru and pre-introduce some characters. It would be an opportune moment to release new Mondstadt skins.

New region? Some sources mentioned we could see the release of the Dornman Port area in the northen region of Mondstadt, or the rerun of the GAA. Once again I'll go against the grain and speculate we won't have a brand new region, but small additions to the current Mondstadt map.

Reasoning: Genshin tried to achieve the pacing of one new region per patch, so it would make sense they would try to give something new in 2.8 (a rerun of the GAA would replicate the patch 2.5 with the Three Realms Gateway Offering). However I feel it would be difficult for genshin team to achieve such a feat right before the release of the Sumeru region and right after completing the Chasm second map.

Narrowing it down: I can currently think of 3 Mondstadt subareas that could be minimally expanded to give us some exploration crumbs: Stormterror's lair/Old Mondstadt - The eerie 'canyon' with a tree and a cave that leads nowhere (yet) or the Decarabian's tower treated in game as an 'out of bounds location'. Dawn Winery - the basement of the winery and the speculated network of tunnels; The Thousand Winds Temple - Closed gates and NPCs.

Verdict: In my opinion it would make sense we get to explore the Thousand Winds Temple since Istaroth as been quite relevent in the story lately. I also talked about my 'portals theory' in a previous post and how the seelie from the GAA brought us back to Mondstadt - there specifically. The many doorways present around the amphitheater always seemed sus to me.

Patchi the Curious and Doolan can be seen on site trying to find a way to enter the ruins. Doolan tries to stall the researcher because he loves her or something and Patchi the Curious only wants to get around the ruin gard and enter, we love an asexual-aromantic icone. Furthermore, one of the temple gate was opened during the Windblume festival event (some shenanigans about Benny boy and Razor), meaning it's feasible.

Bing able to go into the temple and explore it would also follow the Teyvat trend of finding other civilisation ruins under the current regions. Especially in Inazuma, every islands seem to have something underground including Enkanomiya. For 2.6 we have the Chasm in Liyue. Sal Vindagnyr also fit the 'burried civilisation trope' but I feel like the mountain is more hollow than underground.

Goofiest connection: When you talk with Patchi the Curious you get a dialogue option where she gives you the volume 1 of The Mondstadt Tower, adding it into the archive. The book tells a short story set during Ludi Harpastum - by the looks of it the plot seems to be a copy and paste of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Entre nous, that just confirms my theory.

[pikslasrce]

okay i got so worked up now with this whole bastille and the gift of prophecy thing so here we go one last opinion and yea ill leave yall to it shdkskf

Wild World was about politics corruption and overall trying to not pay attention to the geopolitical tensions in the world, it also coincides with the us elections in 2016 but listen... the world was always like that in order for all the things after the album to happen stuff had to lead up to it and our man dan is intelligent enough to pick up on the Wild World happening at that point in time

Doom Days well listen again the Days have been Dooming for quite some time its been going downhill since 2016 (and the dawn of time we can just go further and further back until the very beginning of humanity and civilisation) and again dan picked up on it

last but not least, Future Inc. the dawn of ai overlords and tech companies, that thing has been in motion for years now also do yall know the things they do with ai in china (and also privatised big tech) and such? like ai is on the rise and tech giants are on the rise and like its there and again dan has picked up on it bc ✨observance ✨ and yeah

tl;dr the world is already up in flames and the stage is being set for our very own futurist dystopia and when a bastille album drops you know stuff is about to hit the fan

[abysslarchiving]

alright, so it’s been heavily implied by lore multiple times that khaenri’ah is in the abyss or at the very least intimately tied to it ( bloodstained chivalry set, the pale princess ) and that kaeya was born in khaenri’ah. the thing is, abyssal creatures such as abyss mages, samachurls, and now, abyss heralds don’t need the blessings of celestia to wield the elements. it made me think that, for a khaenri’ahn ( confirmed to be a very prosperous and advanced civilisation ) born in the abyss, someone who isn’t entirely human — i think technically that kaeya should have the ability to wield his element without his vision. and so, because idc what canon thinks, i’m making that true.

much like magic is focused through a wand, the ability to wield an element is focused through a vision. when kaeya was found near a secluded nook along the path of the dawn winery, drenched from the storm around them, he was covered in ice particles. not only that, but the worker that he’d assaulted out of sheer panic at being approached by a stranger, had been stabbed by an icicle. although, kaeya barely remembers that night, had intentionally blocked it out of his mind actually. kaeya is unaware that he’s used cryo prior to his vision, but, not detailing them yet as i want to sit on this idea more, he has been in dangerous situations where he has unintentionally coaxed forth a cryo shield ( you might be familiar with this, it’s the same one you have to break down to get to the squishy abyss mage inside ) otherwise known as “ frozen kiss “ which is kaeya’s fourth constellation. kaeya has applied cryo to his enemies before, numbing them, slowing down their stamina, making their blood freeze, just by touching them before, also without noticing. he’s also left ice particles behind from things he’s touched before, often when he is trying very hard to keep his composure. kaeya’s resistance to the cold, also, has been a natural part of him since birth, although he attributed that to living in khaenri’ah for his early childhood, a sunless land.

kaeya has had multiple instances of using his cryo abilities accidentally throughout his upbringing, but chalked any weird happenstance up to coincidence because of his conditioning during his assimilation into mond / teyvat culture that everything coming from the abyss is bad and evil. and so, when these abilities started to manifest, a part of him wanted to remain ignorant ( after all, according to mond’s psuedo christian religious aspects, if we put this in the allegory of the apple, then to be ignorant is to be blissful, and to understand the truth of the world, that makes you a sinner, yes ? kaeya has said that khaenri’ah is full of sinners due the to the nation’s thirst for power and knowledge, y’know, in addition to his own self hatred coaxed by being raised in a foreign land that damns his own. ) a part of kaeya didn’t want to believe that he could wield cryo until he’d been “ gifted “ his vision, and even then it angered him, especially the way he received it.

kaeya views his vision as a means for the gods, for the tsaritsa, for celestia to control him. but, it’s a lot more complicated than that. when he stopped trying to destroy his own vision, out of rage first ( rage that the vision had appeared, symbolically aligned him with the fatui that had indirectly killed his father ) and then out of curiosity, he decided to use the ability as a means to an end, to reach his own goals faster. yes, he uses the vision and the privilege afforded a vision user in the world of teyvat, but he leaves it behind when he goes to domains on his own. why ? because it’s an insult to the khaenri’ahns and abyssal creatures down there ... he can still wield cryo without it, but he still mentally attributes this to having a vision, no matter how far away it is. that’s not the truth.

kaeya is abyssal, he was born in the abyss, even if he’s still human. and he’s still coming to terms with it.

tldr ; there’s a reason that kaeya’s vision is visibly different from other mondstadt users, he doesn’t need it to use cryo. abyssal creatures don’t need permission from celestia to use their powers.

[narisjournal-blog]

A Way With Words

Fandom: Cobra Kai

Pairings: Samantha Larusso x Robby Keene, Robby Keene x Miguel Diaz (platonic)

Word Count: 3490

Warnings: sexting

Notes: So in this fic Sam and Robby are together, and there are some strong Kiaz vibes. I’ve made it platonic, but it could get dirtier. I’m not comfortable posting that, though as they are underage.  Please let me know what you think, I’m needy.

This would take place in season 2 after the Lawrusso double date, imagining that Sam and Robby didn’t go to the party and the shit didnt hit the fan. Thanks for reading x

A Way with Words

Robby stood at the door to Jonny’s place taking in what lay before him. His father had clearly attempted to clean but there wasn’t much you could do when so much was ingrained. The couch was old and stained, the walls an off-white that made it feel darker, and there was a constant musty smell that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. At least he had got rid of all the empty beer bottles, Robby thought.

‘I know it’s not much, not compared to the Larussos,’ Johnny said, a hint of shame in his voice. ‘But it’s home. It’s safe. You know you’re welcome any time.’

Robby sighed as the door closed behind him.

‘How long do I have to stay here?’ He asked.

He looked round and he knew from the look in Johnny’s eyes that he had hurt him.

Johnny shook his head, resigning himself to the abuse he probably deserved.

‘Just a couple days. While The Larussos are away.’

Robby gave a wry smile. ‘They don’t trust me with their daughter.’

‘Definitely not,’ Johnny laughed.

Robby rolled his eyes.

‘Oh come on, like you weren’t gonna make a move the second her parents left?’

After a beat, Robby shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

Johnny gave him a slap on the back.

‘Come on, you can suffer a few days with your old man. I think you’ll find a lot more freedom here.

‘Where shall I put my things?’

‘Right through here,’ Johnny said, leading him to the small spare room.

‘I’ll be through there. Make yourself at home.’

He left and Robby slumped down on the bed.

This is a good thing, he told himself with his head in his hands. He’s trying. That’s more than he ever has before.

He had been really resistant to the idea when His father and Mr Larusso had finally sat down to talk and come to an agreement that Robby could stay with his Dad while the family were away. Even Johnny agreed it was better for Robby to live with the Larussos for the time being because he really didn’t have that much to offer in terms of comfort or luxury.

Robby had felt disappointed that he wouldn’t get to spend the time with Sam. It was so rare they got any time alone and he had thought maybe things might heat up a little while her parents were away.

Apparently Mr Larusso was well versed in teenage boy thinking.

He started to unpack his bag when there was a knock at the front door.

‘Carmen?’ Johnny’s voice said.

‘Johnny, I’m so sorry to do this, I know it’s a lot but it’s an emergency.’ She sounded upset. Carmen? Robby thought, trying to think if he knew her.

‘Hey hey, slow down,’ Johnny said. Robby continued unpacking clothes, thinking nothing of it.

‘Are you ok? What happened?’

‘It’s my mother. She collapsed and they don’t know what’s going on, they think she may have had a heart attack. She’s in hospital out of town and’ Johnny cut her off.

‘Yaya? Oh my God I’m so sorry.’

‘Can Miggy stay here for tonight so I can be with her? Please?’

Miggy? Who the hell was... and then it dawned on him.

Miguel.

Instantly Robby’s fists clenched and he rose to his feet.

Why did he think it would be any different? He started throwing his clothes back into his bag haphazardly.

‘I uh...’ Johnny’s voice continued, sounding uncomfortable. ‘I kinda have Robby...’

‘Please, Johnny. We’ve got no-one else.’

‘Mom, come on. I’ll be fine on my own.’ Miguel’s voice.

Carmen snipped at him in rapid Spanish, then quickly switched back to English.

‘He’ll be no trouble, and I’ll pay you for food,’ she added.

‘You don’t have to do that, I...’

Robby knew what was coming. ‘Yeah, sure he can stay. I’ll just have to talk to Robby, since you guys aren’t exactly best of friends.’

‘I don’t want any trouble,’ Miguel mumbled.

Robby slammed his fist into the wall and instantly regretted it as pain shot through his whole wrist.

He sat back on the bed nursing his hand.Swirling around with the anger, he could feel the hurt and the disappointment tightening his throat. His eyes burned and he shook his head to try and control it.

Why did he ever believe it could be any different?

There was a knock at the bedroom door. He stood, throwing his bag back over his shoulder.

The door opened. Johnny looked so awkward, it was pathetic. Like he was trying to pretend the decision was hard.

‘Robby, you probably heard. Miguel’s-‘

Robby cut him off.

‘Yeah I heard. I should’ve known.’

He flexed his hand to see if the pain was easing but it throbbed once again and he winced.

‘Are you ok?’ Johnny nodded to Robby’s hand.

‘Yeah I’m just peachy,’ he retorted.

‘Did you punch a wall?’

Robby didn’t answer.

‘Oh for God’s sake.’

‘Yeah well I should have known it was stupid to think I was your priority for once when you just jump at the chance to help your favourite son,’ Robby said.

Johnny scoffed. ‘Oh will you quit being such a baby. The guy’s going through a hard time, would you just put your hate to the side for one night and be a civilised human being?’

‘Whatever, I’m going back to the Larussos,’ Robby said and made to barge past Johnny.

He forgot just how strong and stubborn his father could be. Johnny grabbed his arm and shoved him back into the room. He stumbled backwards and then found his balance to pull his fist back.

‘The hell you are. What, you just give up? This is your problem Robby, you make it so hard. I know I haven’t been perfect but I’m trying, ok? Any time I try to do right by you, to be there for you or whatever, it’s like you’re just waiting for me to fuck it up and then you shut me out again.’

‘What am I supposed to do? I can’t rely on you,’ he said.

‘Come on just take a second to calm down. Find your centre or whatever that bullshit is that Larusso is teaching you.’

Robby had been caught off guard with a blow he never expected from his father. And he was right, he did need to calm down. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.

He could feel his body calming and he hated that his father was right.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Johnny’s pleading face. Robby felt his defences ease.

‘I guess I’m just disappointed, Dad.’

Johnny’s eyes fell to the floor.

‘I get that, you have every right to be. But I can’t turn him away at a time like this, Robby. It’s the right thing to do. Deep down you know it.’

Robby sat back on the bed, resigned.

‘No fighting, alright?’ Johnny added, pointing at Robby.

‘But I-‘ Robby began to protest but he got cut off.

‘No fighting. My house, my rules.’ Robby exhaled.

‘I’m gonna go see if he’s alright,’

Johnny added then left.

Robby flopped back on the bed and ran his hands through his hair. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see a text from Sam.

‘How’s it going?’

He wrote back. ‘Not great. Your ex is staying too.’

Almost right away she was ringing him.

‘Miguel is staying with you?’ She asked sounding perplexed.

‘Yeah. Weird right?’

‘How come? Like was it planned, did your dad know?’

‘No, it’s an emergency. His grandma is in hospital.’

‘yaya? Shit...This is going to be really hard for him.’

Of course she would sympathise with Migue, he thought rolling his eyes.

‘Do you think you can be nice to him?’

‘I’m not an asshole Sam.‘

‘No but your defences are up when you’re around your dad and Miguel. You know I’m right.’

Robby sighed. She was right. After what seemed like a long silence, he spoke again.

‘Ok. Tell me how.’

‘Just try and empathise, Robby. I know it’s hard because it’s him, but just try and think about what he’s going through. ‘

Robby sighed.

‘For me?’ She added in that way she knew would make him melt.

‘Sure.’

‘I miss you’ she added, changing the subject swiftly. ‘I was kinda hoping we might get some alone time this weekend.’

‘Me too.’

‘It’s no fun all alone in this big empty house. I miss kissing you.’ Sam’s voice was soft, playful but almost shy.

‘Maybe I can come over tomorrow?’ Robby posed.

‘I can’t stop thinking about all the things we could do if you were here.’

Robby, heart pounding, drew breath to ask for more detail, but he was interrupted .

‘Robby?’ He heard Johnny shout. Then a knock at the door before it pushed open.

‘I’m getting pizza, do you want some?’

Robby sighed. ‘Sam, I gotta go. Text me. I wanna know.’

He hung up.

‘Uh yeah, I’ll go for pizza.

‘Pepperoni?’

‘Sounds good.’

‘Ok, well can you come out here and keep Miguel company while I’m gone? He’s pretty down.’

Robby couldn’t stop himself rolling his eyes. He stood and headed out the door nonetheless.

‘Is he crying?’ He asked with disdain.

Johnny slapped the back of his head on his way past.

‘Don’t be a dick,’ was all he said.

‘Ow!’ Robby rubbed his head, shocked at his father’s response.

‘Back soon,’ Johnny added as he left and closed the front door behind him.

Robby stood at the far side of the room trying to compose himself.

He looked across at Miguel, who was sat on the couch staring in the vague direction of the TV, although it wasn’t on. The boy looked so vulnerable, brown eyes wide with sadness.

Robby approached him.

‘Hey you know you’re supposed to turn it on first, right?’ He said.

Miguel seemed to snap out of some daydream and gave a faintly sarcastic smile.

‘You’re funny,’ he muttered. There was a long pause before Robby spoke again. He was surprised to realise he actually felt nervous.

‘Hey, you want a beer?’ Robby asked.

Miguel furrowed his brow in confusion. ‘We’re not...’ Robby raised an eyebrow.

‘Sure,’ Miguel shrugged, not wishing to argue.

Robby went to the refrigerator and grabbed two of Johnny’s Coors Banquets, looking around for a bottle opener. He opened them both and handed one to Miguel, who took it cautiously. ‘Are you sure? Won’t Sensei be pissed?’

‘Not at you,’ Robby said pointing the bottle to Miguel and sitting on the couch next to him. ‘You can get away with anything right now. I’m using you as a human shield. To your Grandma,’ He added, taking a big swig.

Miguel sighed, raised his bottle and said ‘to Yaya,’ then drank. He pulled a face at the taste and Robby laughed.

‘Yeah it’s shit.’

‘Why are you drinking it then?’

‘Because I can,’ Robby shrugged, taking another big swig.

They drank in silence for a while until Robby knocked back the last of his beer and stood to put the bottle on the table.

He didn’t realise his phone had slid out of his pocket - the shorts he was wearing were tight and had terrible pockets. He always managed to lose his phone when he wore them.

Robby was looking through the cupboards to see if there was anything decent to eat when he heard Miguel exclaim.

‘Woah, dude. You should really lock your screen.’

Robby whipped round to find Miguel holding his phone and reading something.

‘Hey!’ He yelled. ‘Give that back.’ He volted over the back of the couch to try and catch Miguel in a headlock so he could grab his phone back but Miguel was too fast and on his feet before Robby landed.

‘I miss your lips against mine,’ Miguel read, mocking in his tone. ‘I’ve been thinking about the way-’ Robby had grabbed him and pushed him to the wall but Miguel still managed to hold his phone out of reach and finish reading.

‘About the way you pressed me against the wall when you kissed me. I wish we hadn’t got interrupted.’ He laughed but relented and let Robby snatch his phone back. Robby considered punching him in the stomach for good measure, but thought better of it.

He opened the message from Sam and read through it again.

‘That’s private,’ he said, cheeks flushing against his will.

‘Well you certainly made an impression on Sam,’ Miguel added.

Robby was trying to think of some retort, but his mind was still half on what Sam had said.

‘You shouldn’t have read that,’ he said, glaring at Miguel.

‘Ok, I’m sorry. Come on I’m not trying to start anything... it was just there. I need something to take my mind off things anyway.’

‘And my private conversations are what you chose?’

Robby read the message again. He didn’t know where to go with that. He tried to think of what to say back to her but kept drawing a blank. He’d never been that good with words.

‘Are you ok?’ Miguel asked, actually sounding like he meant it.

‘Yeah. I just...’

Robby looked up and saw Miguel was staring at him, so he looked away quickly. He wished it wasn’t Miguel that was here right now. He really didn’t want to mess this up with Sam.

‘Look I’m sorry, but you don’t need to be embarrassed.’ Miguel continued to watch Robby. ‘Are you gonna reply?’

‘What? No that’s none of your business! I’m not talking about this. Just keep out of it ok?’

Robby stormed back to his room and slammed the door.

Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed, taking another drink of the awful beer. He had thought they were getting somewhere, but Robby was just so highly strung it was impossible.

He was trying to work out if he should feel jealous when Robby’s door opened again slowly. Miguel looked round and Robby stood half in half out staring at his phone still.

He looked up.

‘Should I reply?’ He asked.

‘Dude, yes. You have to reply. You can’t leave her hanging like that.’

Robby bit his lip, thinking.

‘What... what though?’

He walked back over to sit beside Miguel again.

‘Just tell her what you want.’

Robby looked up at Miguel, doubt in his eyes.

‘Look, if you were with her right now, what would you do?’

Robby shifted uncomfortably.

‘You do know what to do, right?’

‘Oh fuck off,’ Robby retorted. ‘It’s just not the same. Like, if I was with her, it would just happen. I get a read off her energy, you know?’

Miguel laughed. ‘You are so Miyagi-do.’

‘Just help me ok? What do I say?’ Robby pleaded.

‘Pick up where she left off.’

Robby’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard but nothing came.

Miguel sighed and held his hand out for the phone.

‘What are you crazy? I’m not giving you my phone again.’

‘Look I’m not gonna send anything, I’ll just start you off, ok? Come on. I have a way with words.’

‘Oh like you have a tonne of experience or something?’ Robby scoffed.

‘No, I just...’ he sighed. ‘I read a lot of fanfiction. Don’t,’ he added when Robby laughed. ‘You can learn a lot from fanfiction. Come on.’

Reluctantly, Robby handed over his phone.

He watched over Miguel’s shoulder as he typed and laughed in disbelief at the explicit picture Miguel was painting with his words.

‘Oh my god,’ he said. ‘I can’t send that.’

Miguel didn’t answer while he concentrated.

‘Ok I’ve changed my mind. Give me my phone back. That’s straight up porn, there’s no way I’m sending that.’ Robby tried to grab his phone but Miguel instinctively dodged and held it out of reach again while he finished typing.

‘No come on I said I changed my mind,’ Robby tried again, grabbing Miguel this time and shoving him to the floor, straddling him with his arm across his chest to hold him down.

Miguel gasped and looked at Robby with guilty eyes.

‘What?’ Robby asked, not catching on. Miguel looked down at Robby’s phone, the message bar now empty. It had sent.

‘Fuck,’ Robby said, grabbing his phone back but not letting Miguel up. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘I’m sorry, you knocked me. I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry,’ Miguel garbled, flinching away but also trying not to laugh.

Robby pressed his arm into Miguel’s chest harder, which made him cough. The cough turned to laughter and Robby wasn’t sure why but he ended up laughing too. It was so absurd and he didn’t know what else to do.

That was when the front door opened and Johnny came in.

Robby realised he still had Miguel pinned and quickly let him go.

‘Were you guys... fighting?’ Johnny asked, not sure what he had walked in on.

‘We we’re just messing around,’ Robby said quickly, glancing at Miguel who was brushing himself off and standing up.

Johnny narrowed his eyes looking from one boy to the other. ‘Whatever. Come give me a hand with this Robby,’ He added and handed him the pile of pizzas.

Robby looked again at his phone, still in shock at what had just happened, gave another glance back to Miguel who was trying not to laugh again. He shoved it in his pocket, and put the pizzas on the table.

Johnny was at the fridge.

‘Did you drink my beer?’ He asked.

‘Sorry sensei,’ Miguel said quickly. ‘It was my idea. I needed something to take my mind off Yaya.’

Johnny looked at them both again, suspecting there was some kind of conspiring happening.

‘Alright...’ he said, looking from one boy to the other. ‘Just nobody tell Carmen alright, I don’t wanna be on her bad side.’

He grabbed a beer, opened it and threw himself onto the couch.

‘You guys wanna watch a movie?’

Robby handed a pizza box to Miguel, grabbed the other two then leaned in as he walked past.

‘He’s totally trying to bang your Mom,’ he muttered, grinning.

***

The three of them had settled into the film and the pizza, all crammed onto that couch. Robby and Miguel had spent half the time pushing each other and complaining that the other was taking up too much space.

Robby felt his phone buzz in his pocket and instantly remembered what had happened. He shared a worried glance with Miguel, who also felt it buzz.

He pulled his phone out to look. It was from Sam, of course.

‘Robby that was hot,’ was all she said. Then the three dots appeared to show she was writing back.

Robby tapped Miguel’s leg, although he was already reading it. They grinned at each other. Miguel shrugged as if to say ‘I told you.’

After a few minutes her message came through. Robby didn’t even try to hide it from Miguel now. His heart raced as he read through her words, telling him what she wanted. Miguel exclaimed and tried to pretend he was coughing so Johnny wouldn’t catch on.

Robby shifted awkwardly. Part of him wanted to go to his room and be alone, but then he also still needed help. The cursor blinked at him.

Miguel, who was now leaning quite heavily into him to see what he was writing, held his hand out. Robby gave him his phone with no hesitation this time.

‘If I was there with you now I would...’ he typed then handed it back.

Robby sighed. He started typing something out as Miguel reached over and grabbed a couple of slices of pizza. He held one out to Robby.

Robby took it absently. He was staring at the screen again.

He looked up helplessly at Miguel. Miguel nodded encouragement and Robby added more to his text.

‘What are you boys doing ?’ Johnny asked, noticing their focus had shifted.

‘Homework,’ Robby said quickly.

‘Group chat,’ Miguel said at the same time.

After a beat, Miguel clarified. ‘It’s a study group chat.’

Johnny shrugged it off. He didn’t believe them but they weren’t fighting so he honestly didn’t care.

Robby sent his message after a nod from Miguel. He left his phone unlocked on his knee and they both stared at the TV while they waited.

After several minutes, a picture flashed up on Robby’s phone. Sam had sent a selfie in her underwear.

Robby gasped and grabbed his phone quickly and locked it, but not before Miguel had seen.

Miguel just gave him an approving slap on the back.

Robby cleared his throat.

‘Yeah I’m gonna get a shower,’ he said, standing up a swiftly and leaving the room.

‘Is he alright?’ Johnny sighed.

Miguel grinned in that knowing way of his.

‘He’s fine, trust me. He’s just really excited about this homework.’

***

If anyone wants to be tagged in future writes then let me know.

[h-barber]

The Last Letter

Much time has passed since you last saw of me. And so much more has changed. Seven years, three seasons and some days had passed on Kha’kesh by now, yet barely some four years on the Human homeworld. Countless skirmishes, sieges and victories against the Humans were recorded and broadcast home since we had first set out to fight off the Human threat. Proud and fervent were we when our fleets decimated the Human occupied space. Ever prouder as our flags were flown tall over the ruins of Human strongholds. Little did our people know the costs we had paid.

Each moon and space station taken; tens of thousands of human defenders slain came at an unreasonable cost. We paraded and celebrated all our achievements across our space, praising our unmatched military might. Yet none ever cared for the dead or dying among us. While the Humans erected monuments and launched a seemingly unending broadcast naming and honouring their dead, we had abandoned our brethren to rot on the battlefields. Such barbarity, for little more than a minor military advantage. Over a hundred thousand of our finest were gone before we even approached our destination. Earth. For each Human we’ve felled, they’ve repaid us tenfold, reaping a dozen of ours. Still, our endless hordes could not be stopped. Their puny numbers could not even hope for a chance to repeal our assaults. Still, not one of the Humans was seen to surrender. Knowing they were the last barrier between us and their precious Earth they stood fast and held their ground.

And stand they did, a stalwart shield of Humanity, until the bitter end. They made us pay dearly for every metre of their territory.

Barely a year into the war for them, they saw each of their bastions fall, fleets scatter and their forward armies utterly decimated. Barely a year here, yet nearly three years into the war for us. Even as we stopped receiving any sort of broadcasts from home, our mission stayed unchanged. We were to subdue Humanity at all cost. Despite the silence being worrisome, we could not afford to spare any ships to send home to find out what has caused the radio silence. Alas Humanity’s last bastion stood alone, at last, Earth Stood alone. They stood alone.And yet there they were, ever proud and standing.

Unbowed, unbroken, Humanity would not yield.

During our last preparations for the all-out assault of Earth we’ve been intercepting varying messages. They differed little, from last goodbyes among families and their friends to encouragements among soldiers, bracing themselves for their last stand. “May we meet again”, they ended their messages as if they still held out hope. Apart from these, we had intercepted one new recurring broadcast that nothing but shook our resolve.

„We shall fight until the bitter end, We shall fight among the stars, We shall fight on Mars, We shall fight on every planet and moon, We shall defend every piece of land Man calls home, We shall fight them in the atmosphere, We shall fight on the plains and hills, We shall fight in the cities and forests. We shall never surrender. “

This was the first of the planetwide broadcasts we had intercepted, reaching every corner of the Earth, cementing their already adamant resolve. We never could have imagined the massive surge in open replies this has enkindled. Responses from all across the planet, from military garrisons, militias and entire cities of civilians echoed across all the available frequencies. All chanting an oath to defend their home,

„ I solemnly swear, to defend the rights and freedoms of man, from the clear blue skies of the Earth, to the far reaches of the Milky way. I solemnly swear, to stand fast against foes however vast. I solemnly swear, to defend Humanity, for as long as I shall live. I solemnly swear. We shall never Surrender. “

These broadcasts lasted for hours, pinging new locations on our tactical map every passing minute. Even battered and horribly outnumbered, they would not listen to our proposals for their surrender. They would rather die defending their home, than live subjugated.

As the time for the assault approached, I had called my commanders to carry out the final imperial orders. As was customary for the general and commanders leading the final battle of a war, we would relay a final offer to accept our foe’s unconditional surrender in exchange for sparing their lives. Normally, the offer is but an empty gesture, a pretence that we will show mercy.

However, it was different with these Humans. Over the course of the war we grew to respect our foes. Rarely do we fight others than unprincipled savages. Even rarer are wars not for survival, but ideals. Even their valour and utter refusal to submit saw no likeness even among our most elite units. Every single Human we have faced so far was worth at least ten of us. It is admirable, finding a species so young by galactic standards, yet so resilient.

And in spite of the countless grievances we have inflicted upon them, the ruthless slaughter and all the devastation, they have found the capacity to show mercy to any who surrendered to them. They spared those who would no longer hold up arms against them, and let those who surrendered have their wounds tended to. Not only did they let live those we would have executed without batting an eye, they gave them another chance at life. They showed mercy, where they got none. A truly respectable foe.

Still, a foe nonetheless.

We barely got past the courtesies at the beginning of the final negotiation, when our comm’s channels were flooded by reports and emergency requests for immediate assistance from our home provinces. Months’ worth of messages starting with mere requests for support personnel and reports of the Var’Kesh advancing towards our territory. These were over four months old, all undelivered up until now.

At first, the requests were sent frequently, several times a day, their tone growing more dire each day. The more recent messages were far fewer and further in-between. The last message was nearly a week old. I could see the pure horror and dread as it emanated from each of my commanders as they listened to the transcript of the last message. It was a casualty report, yet it listed no numbers. Just names. One after another, colonies of Kha’Kesh were listed only as, “overrun”. Meanwhile the Human leadership watched us in silence across our vidcon interface. They had answered expecting the beginning of the end of the human race. Instead they had witnessed the empire of the Kha’Kesh wither away.

That day everything changed. From us abandoning our campaign of conquest and returning to fight for our home, to the Humans’ offering of a ceasefire until we’ve saved our people. On our way home we passed by nothing but ruins of once lush worlds, but a remnant of a once proud civilisation.

The trail of desolation led across our space with no end. What used to be golden worlds teeming with life, were now barren wastelands. Once we had reached our star system, we understood the deafening silence across our space. 

The entire standing imperial armada serenely crept across space around our sun. Decrepit husks of the ships that once stood watch over the empire. Their watch has ended long since. The wreckage was far from fresh, in fact it seemed near a year old.

No responses from either our homeworld or its moons. No active broadcasts, apart from automated messages relaying orders for immediate evacuation. Seven years and three seasons had passed since we had departed Kha’kesh to wage war on Humanity.

Now we are nearing a third year since we had landed what was left of the imperial army on the remains of Kha’kesh. Since then we have liberated most of the camps where our people were herded as cattle. We’ve retaken entire cities and bastions, only to see them wiped of the face of the planet months later. The remnants of our army are holding the last reaches of the land we control. Our fleet has joined the husks of the imperial armada, as they held the space around our homeworld in a vain attempt to retain control of our space. The last ships from our fleet had gone down covering our ground retreat to our most heavily defended citadel on our homeworld. The last bastion of Kha’kesh.

We heard the shrieks outside our defences, we listened as they grew more numerous each night. The deafening growls kept us sleepless for nights on end, waiting for the storm. This was to be our last stand. As the Humans had said when faced with certain annihilation, We shall fight for as long as we shall live. However long that may be.

No one believed we would live to see another dawn, never were we gladder to be so wrong. 

As we braced ourselves for the sea of those feral beasts to come down on us, something had stopped them in their tracks. The dark night skies of Kha’kesh lit up as if dawn had come in the midst of night. The light show staggered those animals for the briefest of moments just as it had us. A tiny flame of hope came to life in our hearts as we recognised the bright blazing lights. 

Yet, they would not be stopped. They began to rush at us with their full numbers again shortly thereafter. We recognised the blasts of kinetic bombardment the moment they lit up the fields on which a rushing horde of Var’Kesh had been just moments ago. Hundreds of blasts cleansed the surrounding fields from which we were besieged for weeks. As the dust settled, fighter jets whooshed past our heads, the likes of which we have never seen before, bombarding the remaining Var’Kesh. However, the base of these designs was not all too alien to us. 

Human engineering at its finest. 

We have encountered prototypes of such fighters, yet none so vastly refined. As the jets reclaimed absolute aerial control, drop pods came roaring from the skies. In a blaze of glory, they dropped right on top of Var’Kesh positions. While we rallied at our defensive positions, legions of Human soldiers started advancing against the remaining Var’Kesh from their pods, while several smaller squads advanced on our positions.

Never was I so glad to see infamous Human warriors enter our bastion. Among them were the leaders whose surrender we had offered to accept on countless occasions. I’ll never forget the words that came from their crude translators, “Old grievances put aside, annihilation is a fate no species should face, not even those who wished it upon us”. Human compassion never ceased to amaze me. Even as we were the ones who nearly wiped them off the face of the galaxy, they came for us, when we were faced with a fate no different.

Hope was alive once more. Over the course of the next year, we have seen success we couldn’t even dream of for the three years we had desperately fought for our lives. With the Human armies and their renewed armada over our world at our side, we have reclaimed our homeworld and nearly all colonies. Today we prepare to rid our space of the Var’Kesh for good. A final assault to push them back. 

They have refitted our outermost colonies as their forward bases. The resistance we have met until now is dwarfed in comparison to how they have secured those planets.

I was never gladder we started a war we could not finish. We would have been long gone were it not for these humans. As I write this letter, the Human admirals are relaying the orders for our assault of the Var’Kesh strongholds. They had promised to keep searching for the refugee fleet, that had escaped the onslaught Kha’kesh was subjected to, as soon as we have secured our borders. I hold out hope to see your beautiful face once again. We never gave up hope you are still out there. I am relaying this message on all Kha’Kesh channels for anyone out there who might listen.

The Kha’Kesh live.

For any who might listen, Humanity is the greatest ally we could never have hoped for. Even if we are gone by the day you return, they will stand guard of our home until then.

Glory to the empire and those who remain, This will be my last broadcast, General Zun’Ri of Kha’kesh over and out.