#modern day americans don't even know who OWN AT&T

[sethshead]

In a Zoom meeting with American Jewish students at Berkeley University a few days ago, I said that among the other beatings that israel received in recent weeks was the betrayal of the radical left. This story isn't new, and in fact has been around for decades (and that too if you don't take into account the Soviet anti-Semitism, which is even more old), but it stands out in record visibility in this war: as can be seen in this tweet from yesterday by a former British Labour MP, it is an appeal to the very right to existance of the israel . Of course it's possible, and in my opinion you must, to criticize israel policy in the last decades, the occupation that is more than a year old for millions of people. But it has to be noticed that the question here is not 67, but 48. In terms of parts of the left in the world today Israel doesn't have the right to exist at all. At all. There is a combination of several intellectual trends here: of criticism of orientalism, of post-colonialism, of universalism, of linguistic and gender theories opposed to "palogocentrism," and there is also anesthemism. Yes, real anti-Semitism, Jewish hatred that leads to a sharp negative attitude towards them, far beyond what can be justified. Chris Williamson down here wouldn't have thought Russia or China or Turkey or Syria or even North Korea lost their right to exist because of war crimes or oppression of minorities inside. But the israel state yes. Only a country of israel But it's deeper than that: because it's not that leftists are anti-Semitic - it can always be, of course. There are anti-Semites of all kinds and all kinds. Unless here the antisemitism arises from, and is based on, extreme left ideology. This is new antisemitism, as the director Prof. Ilan Gur-Zeev Z"L noticed already about 15 years ago. It's not the old anti-Semitism, in which the appeal against the Jew is a turn either against the murderers and deniers of the Messiah, or, in its more modern form, against the alien plantation in the West, the hypocritical and parasitic race that pollutes the pure, created Europe. According to her, Gur Zeev claimed, the new anti-Semitism does not see the Jew as a threat to the West nor as a foreigner. Here Judaism is rejected and hated especially because it is very Western, because it is from the origins of the West and because it was very successful in the Western game, and is still a prominent expression of it. In a post-ethnic, post-ideological, post-national-radical, post-radical left-wing world, ethnic nation-state like israel is a scandal and Zionism is racism. The post-colonial trend, in the framework of which the West seeks to purify itself from its colonialist past, to uproot from it notions of selections and supremacy, to give place to oppressed cultures, minorities and natives, can't help but see in Israel a stubborn relic of a colonial world, of ethnicity, of hierarchy. And again: part of it is true - as far as the occupation is concerned - but the right part serves as a comfortable excuse for the wrong part, that is to deny the fundamental right to exist of a Jewish nation state in general. And the denial of the right to exist itself serves as a ceremony of atonement and credit for the sins of historical colonialism. The Jew, writes Gur-Zeev, is raised to rise in order to purify the Western women of its sins. Maybe none of her power. President Biden, whose speech tonight was a model of connection to both Zionists and Judaism, belongs to another generation. There are of course also many in the younger generation who are able to distinguish between freedom fighters and terrorists, and know that every nation has the right to self-defination. But the trend among the younger generation is alarming. Antisemitism must be resisted, always and everywhere.

h/t Tomer Persico

This is part if the problem: non-Westerners are allowed their nationalism and nation-states; it’s only the West that’s expected to be past that, however much our own identities have been suppressed by oppressors.

In this paradigm, Jews are considered “bad Westerners”, rather than being not of the West in the first place - the latter something of which Europeans were happy to remind us at every opportunity until the very moment we finally restored our self-determination.

[muji-milk]

hey! same anon who said that the quotes around affirmation felt very terf-like. first i wanted to say that your response is exactly why i wanted to give you a chance to answer, but i was just letting you know how the way you wrote it came across to me (who is admittedly an american and maybe there’s a text difference for how things are written. we use quotes to dismiss an idea or to indicate sarcasm) and offer a reason as to why those people may have unfollowed without waiting to hear more from you. i think having a healthy conversation around how we treat dysphoria is important!

anyway! i think maybe the disconnect lies in what we call gender affirming care. i’m sure that’s the technical term for what results in medical transition in the UK, but it should be more general! i would absolutely agree that your experience where you sought counseling and worked out what your gender was and that transitioning wasn’t for you totally counts as gender affirming care. you weren’t pressured to transition and you were allowed to explore what you felt and what you needed. i have a friend who went through the same as you and feels better without having transitioned. i agree it’s also a shame that we have no way to keep track of people who have done this.

in a perfect world, counseling would be the best step for a young person who’s figuring out their gender. in fact, that was a requirement here in the US for a loooong time before someone could see an endocrinologist for hormones. to reiterate my point from my last ask though, not all counselors are one in the same about how they counsel people. i say this 1. as a trans person who (briefly) went through conversion therapy as a teen, and 2. as someone about to graduate with a masters in counseling. they drill into us in my program that we aren’t supposed to let our beliefs change how we counsel someone, but it does happen. so, just like many of the medical clinics here in the US that would turn away young ppl trying to transition, i also worry about how many of them would be affected by counselors who would steer them from the help they need. i hope that made sense, i just wanted to kind of add that to the conversation.

Tbh i tried to italicise the word affirmation but tumblr mobile kept fucking it up 🫠 so yeah the marks were just emphasis.

Like you said in a perfect world there should be more steps of evaluation. (Honestly, in a perfect world no one would be trans but that's another thing to discuss) but if we're talking about improving the current system, it should really be reframed 'gender related care'. Or gender considerate psychoanalysis. Or gender focussed counseling. Any of these terms instantly imply a more neutral and comprehensive approach.

But yes despite a rebranding or the terminology its still soo hard to get true impartially from anyone involved! Even you being trans, if you become a professional counselor that would create a personal bias within you. Just as being a woman or man, being rich, or black or old, etc, would do.

Regarding the approach to treatment of gender dysphoric youth, time is the biggest teller. Not statistics about trans peoples deaths and lives (which we don't even have enough of to draw conclusions. Its still a fairly modern thing!), not the opinions of your parents, not the advice of an affirmation clinic or a conversion therapist; but most importantly, not even your own feelings can be said to be true and trustworthy and permanent. People change their minds every day about trivial things and major issues, you feel like a different person every year, you learn and grow and its a humans' lifelong task to find and understand oneself. So, like you, I'm also worried about those being steered in a particularly firm direction at a young age. Whichever that direction is! Neither affirmation or conversion therapy should be the only immediately presented choices because you can't know how the individual's inner feelings will grow and change as they get older. That's why words like 'affirmation' and 'life saving' and even 'living your truth' are so loaded; they constantly present that one route as the best option and the younger you start the better, the way you think now is how you'll think forever, and you'll just die otherwise.

[harrelltut]

卍 I BEE MICHAEL [IBM] HARRELL of QUANTUM HARRELL TECH® Computing Intel Architecture [CIA] who Build HIGHLY ADVANCED [HA = HARRELL] Fiber Optic Communications of HIGHLY Cryptic Audio Transmissions from Technical [AT&T] Bell Systems of HIGHLY Complex Algorithmic [CA] Computation [Compton] Network Data I PATENT [I/P] ONLINE since I Economically MANAGE My Family’s GENERATIONAL EMPIRE [G.E.] WEALTH from Tulsa Oklahoma’s [OK] Historically Black Wall Street District of Greenwood in 1921 卍

[x-reader-theater]

can you do rossi x male reader who is some sort of royalty and in love with rossi and is willing to leave his royal duties to marry David but since David is low key famous and v. respected readers family thinks its ok for them to marry (i just want to see rossi as a prince) (more than ok with it not being modern time but don't have to write it in medival)

I'm making this a young Rossi, one that has retired from the BAU but hasn't gone back yet, to make it more plausible that he'd be in another country. Also, this country is one that I made up and I will not be saying the name of because I don't have one lolll

This got long so if anyone wants a part two I'll continue this. Edited by @mystic-writes

Gif by @reidgifs

"Why, my good cousin Gerard, you have waited almost as long as my son to get married! And that's saying something!" your father, the king, says at the dinner table.

"Father, please don't bring this up now…" you mumble into your wine glass.

Your father looks up at you and glares. "Why shouldn't I bring this up now? You should have been married years ago to some lovely woman of high status!"

"But, what if I don't want to marry a woman? Ever think about that!" you exclaim, leaning over the table towards your father. "What if I want to marry a man!"

There's gasps at the table.

"But, don't you want to have children? What if you become king, and you have no heirs?" you mother asks from her position to the right of your father, where she's been delivered to for her entire life.

You shake your head. "I don't want children. And besides, I'm never *going* to become king. You made sure of that," you mutter. "Newsflash! Medicine has actually improved tremendously, and I have four older siblings who are never going to die before me. I'm never going to be able to BECOME king! AND!" you shout, standing up at the table. "Being royalty is nothing more than being a painting for people to ogle at! We have all this money and status and we don't need it! What about the people who we supposedly rule over? What are we doing to give them houses, or food, or jobs? We sit in our ridiculously large castle, which we don't even use half the rooms in, by the way, and there are people that don't even have a house! So, I don't even want to become King. The first thing I would do, as king, would be dismantling and abolishing the royal family, once and for all!"

There's more gasps and you slam down your napkin, which doesn't make a sound but does make a point, and you run out of the dining hall that you only use if your father has guests over. Most of the time the family eats in the kitchens.

You run up to your room and shed your fancy clothing, before putting on a t-shirt, jeans, and a black hoodie with nothing on it. You slip some trainers on and run to the front door, using all the hidden hallways you discovered as a child to make your way to the front of the castle.

You quickly slip your way through the front doors and up to the gate. You give a wave to the guards there and stop, waiting for the gait to open.

"Your highness!" one of the guards exclaims and you roll your eyes.

"Please, don't," you say, putting a hand up. "I just want to get out. Can you open the gate for me, please!"

"But- but we're supposed to go with you! What if you get hurt!" the other guard shouts.

You reach into one of the back pockets of your jeans and you take out a knife, flicking it open, and hold it out to the guards. "I can take care of myself."

They look at each other, back at you, before they nod and press the buttons to open the gate. You smile and thank them, putting your knife away, you make your way into the city.

The walk is long but it clears your head, and you find a bar open late. You walk in and the musty smell hits you immediately, and you smile. Walking in, there's only a couple people in here, and three are sitting at tables drunk off their asses. One, a very handsome, older man, is sitting at the bar, talking to the bartender.

You walk in and sit away from him, six stools away, and when the bartender comes over, and you try to order, a drink is placed in front of you, and you frown.

"Courtesy of Dave," he says, tilting his head to the handsome man, and you look over, and the man smiles and lifts his drink to you before taking a sip.

You look down at your own drink and frown, before picking it up and taking a sip of your own. It's bourbon. Good old American bourbon. And it's exactly what you wanted, and needed. You look up to thank the man when you startle. He's sitting right next to you.

He goes to speak but you cut him off, asking, "How did you know?"

"I'm sorry?" he asks, his breathtaking smile faltering for a moment.

You point to your drink. "How did you know this is what I wanted?"

He smiles again and takes another sip of his own drink. "You came in looking lost, and anyone who's lost needs a good finger of bourbon."

You smile and take another sip. "Your accent. It's American."

"And yours is not," he says, and you smile back at him.

"I'm [Y/N]," you say, holding out your hand for the man to shake. He does, and you feel the calluses on his fingers. "Were you in the military?"

He nods, and his smile widens to a grin. "I was. As well as law enforcement." You nod, and pull your hand away, though you really don't want to. "What about you?"

"Oh, uh," you say, not really knowing what to say to that. "I-I don't really do anything important." Dave nods, seemingly content with that answer and you let out a breath of relief. "Anyways, what do you do now? I do not think you are in law enforcement here."

He shakes his head. "No. I'm just writing now. Traveling the world now that I don't have to stay in one place anymore."

You nod. "I wish I could travel. I want to see Spain, and England, and Japan, and America. And other countries too, but those are at the top of my list," you say.

"Well, as an American, I would love to show you around one day," he says with a grin.

You grin back.

That grin drops however when you hear someone behind you. "My liege? There you are!"

You flinch and turn around slowly to see the captain of the guard, Heinrich, standing there in his full plate armour that really has no use anymore.

"My prince, we must get you home. Your mother is worried sick!" he exclaims, and you look up at him sheepishly.

"'Prince'?" Dave asks behind you.

You turn around and grab his hands. "I swear, I will explain it all one day, but I really have to get back. It was lovely having a drink with you. I would love to do it again some time!"

Heinrich grabs your arm like he used to do when you were a child and drags you out of the little bar, outside where a car is waiting, leaving a stunned Dave behind.

[lazarettta]

Misthios

Characters (Reader x Mother Miranda...?) 👀

Rating (T)

Word Count (2.8k)

Warnings (none, first half is has no dialogue, writing while high,)

Once her little warrior, always her little warrior.

I'm sorry if it's hot 🗑💀

The fire was finally the way you wanted it and you could finally fucking rest. You'd been hiking all goddamn day through the rain and snow, and you just wanted a minute to rest and to eat. The sun was starting to set and you still needed to set up your tent, but for the moment you were content to just sit on the log and get warm.

“Who'd ever think a Spartan would be in Rome looking for answers, hm?” it was ironic, how you would've been accused of being a traitor or something like that back then. Ha...back then?

Truthfully you weren't sure anymore where your life really started it's been so long, centuries really if you were being honest. Sometimes even your own secrets were too overwhelming for you to admit, and as the years continued to pass you by it was getting harder and harder for you to hold onto the same principles you once believed in. The wars you've participated in, two of them by choice...and as a favor for the third.

It shouldn't have been possible but it was for you, it was both a blessing and a curse because you were nothing special...you grew up with Spartan blood running through your veins, pushed at a young age to hunt and to protect, it was a common tradition for families then, especially for the oldest or only children. Your didn't ever recall your father, he died in battle before you were born but your mother was there, always. Even if her face was blurry after all of the time that has passed you by—you still remember her teachings and her technique. Your mother was the best hunter in Sparta, proudly.

But after...after her passing, the streets taught you how to be a mercenary at a young age...and then an assassin, not by choice but by necessity because you weren't a good person then, not really, and you still weren't now...but you still had the will do what was right, and so you did.

And maybe that is why the Gods did not let you die in the battlefield when you'd been caught off guard, for what is no longer relevant as it is now long gone, but the scar left through your heart would forever stain you inside and out by some random Greek bastard. You don't remember much of the dying part as much as you remembered how badly it hurt and how livid you were watching him stand over you with his bloody sword raised to the heavens. But just like your pain, that emotion was ebbed away as you laid there dying.

And die you did. And your body laid there for who knows how long but when you woke up, oh you sprung up ready to fight but there wasn't a fight left to be had...the war was over...but you didn't know that until you woke up the second time. Not realizing that your body was next to be burned in the ditch as the battlefield was being cleared of all the corpses from both sides. A gruesome chore performed by the prisoners taken by Sparta.

You had no idea why the Gods healed you and brought you back from the dead, you didn't deserve a second chance (at the time you didn't realize that it was a power). You were blessed by the Gods and that's all that it was, people looked at you with both awe and envy. Some gave all of their iron and dearest family possessions as a gift to the Gods in hopes that their wishes were granted. They hated you and you did not care. You were unstoppable, everyone wanted your attention and your skills—it made you arrogant and stupid for years. And when you caught a pretty nasty gash across your back from a werewolf that ambushed you and your horse, your leathers had been torn and bloody by the time you speared your way through four of those beasts. But while there was blood, there was no wound...the only evidence were the scars it left behind.

Snap!

You turned your head slightly, a few strands of your hair falling in front of your ever sharp (y/e/c) eyes. You stayed perfectly still, eyes scanning the forest surrounding you but there was nothing after several moments. Just as well...with a loud sigh, you finally got up to put up your tent for the night and probably for the next few nights too. You slipped your hunting knife back into your boot but kept it unhooked just in case.

You lived in a time where guns existed but you were always better with a blade. You may not be an active misthios now (mercenary in today's world) but old habits were hard to kick. You were too old and too wise now, even if you didn't look a day over twenty-eight.

The next morning...

You woke with a start your grip around your obsidian hunting knife so tight your knuckles your skin strained against bone. You didn't have a dream but something woke you up, and it wasn't those damn birds chirping literally above your tint. With the help of the morning sun you could even see the spot where one of them pooped. Great. You laid there for a few more minutes, finally relaxed enough to move. You checked your surroundings again, walking around your camp but that feeling of unease didn't go away but it wasn't as strong.

Today was clearer than it was the day before though you still had to deal with the snow and the cold, not that either really bothered you too much. Leaving your camp behind, marking the trees so that you had a way to find your way back through these unfamiliar woods, you set off to find breakfast. You came to an edge, a cliff's peak and you went to stand on the edge of it—to maybe see the rest of the mountain you were exploring but something caught your immediate attention.

When was the last time you ever saw a castle? Not...not those tourist marks they have all over Europe but a castle. The place was eerie but most castles always felt that way to you...but this was different? It was as if the castle was looking right back at you, mocking you. From your vantage point you could make out the edges of a lake through the thick trees, you couldn't see it very well but you could tell it wasn't small nor was it man-made.

It was a pleasant surprise to discover this as you assumed that your trip would mostly be you exploring this cold ass mountain without a proper guide but you didn't need anyone to know why you were really up here, your reasons concerned no one but yourself. That and you knew you'd end up leading your guide. You were better off alone. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself that but those words stopped being comforting a very long time ago. Not like fate was giving you much of a fucking choice though.

Your stomach growled, reminding you of your hunt...you glanced down at the village below the castle curiously before turning away from the ledge, the heavy aura of the castle still on your back.

~~

Fat and full, that's exactly how you'd describe yourself at the moment. There were more predators in the area than there were prey it seemed but the rabbit you caught seemed plentiful enough. With winter kicking in, the most worrisome predator in the woods would be hibernating leaving nothing but the wolves and maybe a mountain lion for you to deal with if you're lucky. You hefted your smaller backpack onto your back and left your camp, deciding to check out the village to see if you could learn more about the castle.

You were both excited and curious, you'd spent a majority of your modern life exploring the wonders of the Earth and using the currency you've collected throughout your lifetimes to fund whatever myth caught your eye. In other words, you were bored but the thought of war and fighting no longer made your blood sing or your heart race. You've done so much of that already, and lost so much because of it.

“Get back! Get back! Agh—GET THE FUCK BACK!”

Your legs stopped moving immediately and your gloved hand was already wrapped around the hilt of your hunting knife, ears trained. You heard growling and barking not too far from where you stood, maybe two or three hundred feet to your right just through those bushes and that fallen tree. It sounded as if someone was having a bit of trouble with a pack of wolves. Which struck you as odd, you were still pretty high up on the mountains and you hadn't seen anyone else up here in a week, so it couldn't have been a local...could it?

The growling grew more intense and there were sounds of a scuffle and grunts but the man still sounded alive.

And it wasn't your problem. Your days of coming to the rescue were over. You allowed your hand to fall from your knife. You got maybe seven steps away before the man spotted you, he caught a glimpse of your fur lined hood and started screaming for you to help him just as one of the wolves snapped the branch he was holding in half, forcing his back against a tree. His time was counting down now.

He was yelling so loud, you were sure even the villagers could hear him now. There was no way you could walk away now.

“Fucking hell.” with a heavy sigh, you dropped your backpack and stalked in the direction of the soon to be crime scene. You didn't feel the need to mask your presence, you wanted the wolves to know that you were there and that ultimately saved that man's life. The wolves were honed in on you the moment you stepped through the bush but three shots echoed through the small clearing before any of them could pounce in your direction. The echoes faded away quickly, and you sighed again watching the white snow stain red beneath the furry corpses.

The only other sound heard was the man's heavy breathing as he leaned against a tree. You looked down at your gun before putting it back in it's holster on your lower back, you may prefer blades but it was always better to have something and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

“Thank...thank you,”

You looked at the man with furrowed brows...just by looking at him, you knew that he wasn't a native but the moment he opened his mouth only confirmed it. He was American...you spotted all of his gear nearby, torn to shreds and you scoffed.

“I don't think camping is for you.”

“I don't think so either,” He tried for a smile but it was only a grimace, the blonde man pushed himself from the tree and approached you, carefully stepping around the wolves bodies, “I'm uh a bit lost, I guess.”

“And I'm leaving.”

“Wait!” he rushed around you, stopping you and you could've gone through the man if you wanted to...you were taller than him by an inch or two, and you definitely had more mass than he probably knew what to do with, “Listen, I'm obviously not from here, but I'm trying to find my daughter okay, she's—”

“I'm not from around here,” you held your hand to make him stop while simultaneously telling yourself that you're not about to get involved in someone else's mess and derail your own mission, “I'm sorry about your kid, but I can't help you.”

He frowned at you obviously not happy with your answer but he was quickly reaching into his pocket and any normal person, especially someone who is armed, would've taken a step back but you weren't some ordinary person. You simply raised an eyebrow, because you knew that he wasn't going to attack you even though he was probably fully capable of doing so. You assumed that he was about to dig out a baby picture or something but it was just a sheet of paper with writing on it. You took it before he could shove the damn thing in your face and you looked down at it carefully, keeping your face neutral.

“I can't read whatever language that is.”

You glared up at him from beneath your lashes, “And you think that I can?”

“Can you?” he shot back, and you rolled your eyes...your attention back to the paper before shoving it back in his hands, “Well?”

You nearly scowled at his impatience, “It's a mix of Romanian, Serbian and Tatar. Whoever sent that clearly doesn't want anyone else to know what's on it.”

“So you can read it then?”

“Bits and pieces,” You said with a shrug, “I'm not expert but someone named Beneviento is demanding a shorter route for wine delivery from that giant castle.”

He stared at you then down to the paper, which was full from top to bottom, then back to you, “What...that's all? Are you sure?? No, that can't be all...there has to be something about my daughter here! Here, please, just try again slower—”

“That's all I could read.” you shouldered past him, throwing your hood back up and ignoring his calls after you. Your backpack was exactly where you dropped it, you shook off the snow and threw it back on your back not caring about the cool wetness on your back now—you just wanted to get away from this area as quickly as possible. You should've used your knife as those gunshots gave away your position.

“Amateur hour everyone,” you grumbled under your breath...you veered off the path slightly, just in case he tried to follow you (wouldn't be the first time someone tried to force you to help them).

You'd maybe walked for a mile or two down the mountain before you noticed the hairs on the back of your neck standing, you chanced a casual glance over your shoulder but there was no one there, no man nor animal. Licking your dry lips you turned back around but as you were doing so, you caught something in your peripheral. A dark figure, twenty feet away and that's when you noticed how fucking quiet everything was around you...you forced yourself to keep walking even as a feeling of dread began crawling up your back, like two sharp fingers walking along the ridges of your spine.

Pushing the hood from your head, you whirled around with your knife drawn at your side gripping it with the intentions to kill but there was nothing there except two large obsidian feathers fluttering gently down onto the snow at your boots. Feathers?

Cool breath touched the base of your neck when you heard soft chuckling directly behind you. You turned around sharply, easily flipping your knife around but the mass of darkness in front of you disoriented you for a split second and that was all this creature needed. Before you could plunge your knife into it's feathery belly, a pale hand shot out and caught your wrist in a bruising grip as another hand curled itself around your throat, sharp nails oh so slightly pricking your skin.

You were about to kick away when the creature leaned forward, and it's face came from beneath the hood...only it wasn't an it, it was a she, though her entire face was hidden by the gold headgear you could see her lips and...and her eyes.

A pair of eyes you'd never forget in any of your lifetimes. It felt like a millennia ago when those eyes alone had you on your knees covered in fresh warm blood and exhausted from tearing through small armies.

Despite yourself, you were trembling in her ironclad grip, your hand that wasn't still trapped fruitlessly came up to wrap around her wrist as if that was going to help you. You both knew that it wouldn't. She brought you closer until your feet were no longer on the ground and you could feel the tip of your blade pressing against something...no, her...and your nose was nearly touching her helmet.

“ο μικρός μου πολεμιστής...” (my little warrior...) her cool breath washed over your face, her eyes still boring down into yours so intensely you swore you felt the heat, even as her hand tightened around your throat making you choke, but you were fighting against her... “επιτέλους ήρθες σπίτι μου...” her chuckle fell on deaf ears. (you've finally come home to me...)

~~

You were supposed to run into Alcina first 😭, but Miranda works too...(save the best for last obvi) I don't know I am playing Odyssey while waiting for this game to drop and I went The Old Guard route too so then I just ended up writing some shit, and I wanted to try something that's not so maiden-esque lol so I hope it's enjoyable at least...I honestly might make this a WIP...

[breitzbachbea]

1, 6 and 26!

Thank you for asking!

Hetalia Ask Game

What got you into Hetalia?

I honest to god don't remember anymore. I somehow must have stumbled over it somewhere and thought "Oh! An anime about countries and history!!! How COOL!!!" I remember that I definitely still watched it on some German anime pirate site called proxy dot to or something.

6. How has Hetalia affected history for you?

Not at all, if I'm truthfully. I've always absolutely loved history. Ancient history especially, all thanks to my mother. I wanted to become an egyptologist when I was in primary school, then an archaeologist and since I was 14 or so, 'history professor' was the avowed goal. These days, I don't exactly know what I'll end up doing, but it is definitely within the field of historical sciences and everybody pray my school keeps up its super cool Masters programm that basically qualifies you to work as a public historian.

Hetalia has definitely opened me up more to contemporary culture and a wider interest in the world. I love the manga for its tidbits still, even if I don't save them as genuine information lest I looked them up myself. And writing fanfiction really gives me an outlet for my curiosity and encourages me to learn about the world! I can apply knowledge to stories about charming, little characters and because I want to write about all the charming, little characters, I have concrete avenues within which to seek out knowledge about other parts of the world! I love it, it's really cool.

(Also, I did bring my Hetalia mangas to school and had my teacher read them. Luckily, he found it very funny and in retrospect, it was much less cringe than you'd expect.)

However - I think people who create historical hetalia content are very cool people and put a ton of effort into their things. But I do think that Hetalia isn't a very good tool to really discuss history. It starts with how you define a country. Is it the concept of a modern nation state? When do states start? What is the difference between peoples and states? Do they represent solely their peoples or also their government? To which degree can they act independently? If you asked me on how to write historical - or even contemporary - Hetalia correctly as an exploration of the world, I would have you write a clear definition of your terms at the beginning of each fanfiction. The same way you have to define the terms you're using at the beginning of a book or paper. This is the only way that the history then depicted can be correctly interpreted and analyzed by everyone who engages with it.

'But isn't it just historical fiction -' It is not, because historical fiction deals with fictionalized events and real people, not with personifications of entire countries. Difference. I do think though that both hetalia and historical fiction can be a great way to make people emotionally attached and attuned enough to something that they then start to care about the facts. I tell ya what, I don't care much for American history, but Hamilton got me into reading a wholeass Wikipedia article on the whole scandal. Historical fiction, especially if it's popular, does make its own statements regarding the past and the present and has its own stances, which then shapes public discourse. It's still art and needs to be treated as such and 'historical accuracy' often misses the point. But it is art and not historical scholarship.

History is very, very complicated and messy, by virtue of it being a product of human existence. Trying to cram that into a human being is impossible.

26. Who would be the one character you would love to meet?

Oh, hm, good question! They're all rather silly, though, aren't they, by virtue of it being a comedy slapstick manga. I could say one answer for solely not safe for work reasons, which I won't. But it starts with T and ends with y.

I think I'd like to meet Romano somewhere in South Italy. The man is so fretful and self-conscious in the manga, I'd just wanna show him that I don't think his self-worth as a country is tied to the economy. Find Salvini parassita grafitti and approve of it. Eat cannoli and Neapolitan street pizza and enjoy the place I love the most on earth right after my homecountry.

[mandoalorian]

Loving You For You [Maxwell Lord x GN!Reader]

Summary: Maxwell Lord is struck with a panic attack when he's getting ready to shoot one of his famous infomercials. He's hit with the trauma of his youth and begins to spiral, until you, his loving partner, show him that it's okay to feel afraid and it's okay to find admittance in his struggles.

Warnings: descriptions of poverty, starvation, body dysmorphia, panic attack, general insecurity, brief mention of addiction (alcohol and gambling), brief mention of abuse.

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2000>

Author's note: So many of you loved 'Perfect to Me', which was about a reader who had their own body dysmorphia (you can find it in my Masterlist under ‘Maxwell Lord’, and asked me to write more. I put a little twist on things and wrote this, a one-shot in which Maxwell suffers from body dysmorphia and struggles to leave his past behind him. Reader discretion advised.

Masterlist

When Maxwell Lorenzano was 6 years old, he owned one pair of shorts and two t-shirts. He had no choice but to wear them throughout the coldest winter in history, his knees red raw from the cold, and they lasted him for two years until he quite literally was growing out of them. When he finally parted with them, his mother gifted him with a dark blue knitted sweater, and Maxwell swore it was the best present he'd ever received. He'd finally feel the warmth he craved so desperately. The warmth that other children got from their parents embrace...he was getting from an itchy sweater that smelt like cheap beer and cigarettes. But it was his, and it was all he had.

After Maxwell's father stole all of the money for his gambling and alcohol addiction, he left Mrs Lorenzano with just five pesetas to feed the small family for a week. The brown eyed boy remembered that winter as the worst one yet. The bedwetting had gotten bad again and he had never gone so hungry. He remembered his stomach rumbling in class and his cheeks would flush as the other kids teased and laughed at him for it. He remembered stealing a banana from another kid's packed lunch, getting caught, and told that if he continued to steal, he'd be nothing but a criminal low-life just like his father. But he was just hungry. His shoes had holes in them so his toes poked out. He bathed in a tin bucket once a week right up until he was a teenager.

And thirty years later, Maxwell Lorenzano, or Lord, as he now went by, was staring at himself in the full length bedroom mirror. Everything was perfect. He'd proved everyone back home wrong. He became someone. Someone esteemed, someone important and someone with a heightened self worth. People asked for his autograph in the street and preached to him about their love and admiration for his work. He was a man who could make dreams come true. Everything was perfect… or so it should've been.

It didn't fit. Maxwell picked at the way the pale pink polo shirt clung to his body. He turned to the side and sighed when he saw the way it highlighted his little tummy. He sucked in his breath, trying to flatten it, but it didn't really work. And for a split second he considered how many meals it would take to lose that little bit of weight. This whole outfit had been tailored for him just two weeks ago and it was perfect but now he hated it. He didn't just hate it. He felt disgusting.

It was weird. Sure his insecurity about his body image was rampant as he took in his appearance, but he didn't feel like himself.

Truthfully, when he changed his name from Lorenzano to Lord he had done it to start anew. That name was his father's and he wanted no association with the man who had abused and tormented him and his mother. But when Maxwell Lorenzano became Max Lord, it was like the struggle ended. He'd fought for so long and so hard trying to fit in with the modern-day example of a successful businessman. He was the least American all-American man. He dyed his hair blonde, even seeked a vocal coach to try and rid himself of his accent. And it worked. Everything was being handed to him on a silver plate. He was the coverboy of Forbes, the owner of three country clubs and day spas across America. The Wall Street Journal were constantly on his case, wanting to interview him. He was swimming in cash. He had everything he could ever want. But it wasn't him.

He felt like a fraud. A liar. A con-man. And as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he saw nothing but the broken little boy he was thirty years ago, wearing ill-fitted clothes and a fake smile. It wasn't meant to be like this. He was spiralling.

"Hey honey?" he heard your sweet voice call from the next room, your footsteps approaching down the corridor. His tense composure relaxed ever so slightly when he heard you coming, and he grabbed the white suit jacket from the top of the dresser, quickly pulling it over him. He didn't want you to see him like this. See his tummy and the way the stupid shirt didn't fit him the way it did two weeks ago. You'd seen him naked plenty of times and deep down Maxwell knew that you wouldn't care, but he just felt so vulnerable in his own skin. "The camera crew are waiting downstairs in the lobby and they're getting antsy," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you padded into the bedroom. "The director is insufferable, Max. I keep telling him this is your infomercial, not his, but he just-- hey, Max? Are you listening?" you narrowed your eyes with concern. Maxwell hadn't looked at you once since you walked into the room.

"Hmph? Oh yeah." he murmured, turning back around to see if his tummy poked out even wearing the white jacket over the shirt. It didn't, which was a relief for him, but the padded shoulders of the jacket made him look huge and boxy. And it was just another thing he began to hate about himself.

"Are you okay?" you asked, biting your lip and walking towards him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and placed your hands over his tummy. He winced. "Max?"

"Yeah I'm fine." he said quickly, pulling out of your grip and buttoning up the suit jacket.

As he was about to leave the bedroom to start shooting the latest infomercial for his company, Black Gold Cooperative, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back. You popped open to the button of his suit jacket, freeing his tummy, not that you noticed. "You should keep the jacket undone," you hummed. "I like you in pink." You placed the palm of your hand on his chest and subconsciously began to brush him down, straightening his collar so he looked as smart as possible.

"I might get changed. Don't really like this outfit." Max muttered with a frown that made your heart ache.

"Wh-what? You loved it when you tried it on for me at the tailors the other week. And you look so good. Is there something going on?" you asked curiously as Maxwell stepped away from you.

He sighed in defeat (and slight frustration), before ripping the jacket off his body and letting it pool to the ground. "Look." he said, pointing his finger aimlessly at his tummy.

"What?" you asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Look." he repeated again, wiggling his ring clad finger this time.

"Maxie you gotta help me out here," you replied. "What am I looking at?" You noticed Maxwell's lips begin to quiver and tears prick his dark glazed eyes. He swallowed a lump in his throat that he didn't realise he had before slapping his hand over his face in shame and breaking down into a heaving, sobbing mess. "Oh Max," you cooed, taking him in your arms and guiding him over to your bed. You sat him down on slid next to him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest. "Baby what is it? You can talk to me."

"Nothing fits," he hiccuped, and you felt his tears dampen your own blouse. "I feel disgusting. I feel fake and. Disgusting. It fit two weeks ago- and now-"

"Max," you hushed him, running your fingers through his golden locks of hair. "It fits you perfectly. You look amazing, and I'm not just saying that because I'm your partner, I'm saying it because it really truly does. You look so handsome." you promised him.

"When I look in the mirror all I see is the old me. The me who wet the bed, who starved and stole and who couldn't save my mother from my father's horror and abuse. I moved here to escape it all, but it still haunts me. It follows me and I can't- I just want it to stop." Maxwell confessed, the tears now streaming down his face.

You had dated Max Lord for three years now, and you were both deeply in love with each other, but he had never quite opened up to you about his past trauma. You knew little things here and there but you never expected it to be so bad. Your boyfriend was suffering and you felt so helpless.

"I hate myself." he continued through a choked sob. He began to feel so constricted in his clothes, tugging his pink shirt. It felt like he couldn't breathe, and you saw the panic on his face.

"Hey, breathe with me. Let me help you." you whispered, cupping his face with your hand and wiping away his tears. He found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch and he followed your breathing. Inhale for seven seconds and then exhale. And repeat. It was working. As he followed your breathing, you gently began to undress him and as you discarded the garments of clothing he began to feel better.

Leaving him on the bed, you promised you'd be back in one second, quickly darting into the walk-in closet and bringing out some of his comfiest cashmere pyjamas.

"I- I can't," Maxwell panted. "I have to shoot the- the infomercial."

You shook your head, unfolding the pyjamas. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, okay? This is your infomercial. Not anyone else's."

"I can't let them down." Maxwell insisted, looking back at the clothes that were pooled on the floor. He had to be brave. For once he had to be brave.

"No," you said sternly. Maxwell looked at you with doe eyes. "I want you to change and get into bed. I'll be back in one minute, I'm just going to let the crew and the director know that we'll do this another day."

"Yeah but-" As always, Maxwell Lord was the most stubborn man on the planet. "I can do it. I can- I can-"

"Sweetheart," you whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead. "There's no shame in admitting when you can't do something. No shame in struggling. I love you all the same."

"You aren't embarrassed of me?" he sniffed wearily.

"How could I be? I feel like the luckiest person on the planet because I scored with you. You're the most amazing, gentle, compassionate guy I have ever met. Max, I wish the rest of the world got to see you the way I see you. You are perfect." you smiled and Maxwell felt his cheeks flush pink.

"I love you so much." he confessed, and you giggled, leaning in to brush your lips against his.

"I love you too," you smiled warmly, nudging your nose against his. "Get comfortable and I'll dismiss the crew. I'll bring a VHS up and we can watch a movie in bed too. Anything you fancy?"

Maxwell pondered for a second, trying to remember his wide selection of filmography he kept in one of the living room cabinets. He could always go with one of his favourites— a guilty pleasure he liked to indulge in when he craved comfort. "Breakfast at Tiffany's?" he asked with a hopeful glint in his eye.

"Oh yes, we haven't watched that one in a while! I'll make us both some herbal tea too," you exclaimed, handing him a comb so he could brush out all the hair product and reveal his natural waves. "We've been needing a movie day." you commented.

"Let's not do anything," Maxwell grinned. "For once. Let's just relax and cuddle and watch movies."

"I can't think of anything better." you smiled cheerily, pinching his cheek and giving him another kiss.

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[hoefette]

All the petty things I hate about fate!winx and their shitty universe/world building because

I'd added most if these in tags of other posts but I'm still so mad lmao

The way characters, Aisha and Mrs Dowling specifically make references to explicitly human or American things like instagram and Harry Potter

These people are from a different dimension for ffs why are they concerned with or are even aware of this very earth-specific shit? Do they teach earth classes at school over there?

I understand not wanting to have them be oblivious so Bloom wouldn't have to explain it to them, but it simply could be ✨omitted✨

Why would you go out of your way to date your work like this lmao ew

Ms. Dowling calling Tinkerbell an air fairy.. I cannot breeve with the stupidity why did they keep that in there

Why is Ms. Dowling.. the headmistress.. teaching classes? Where are the other teachers?

We ended up with a trio of antagonists (I guess you could call them that?) by the end of the season anyway so why not give us the trix, why have the characters play double roles as friends of our protagonists and also the villains/bullies? They clearly wanted a delinquent trio, in which case they could've gender bent the trix if they wanted to keep all the unnecessary sexual tension.

It just feels like the production team was lazy, they didn't want to hire more actors, they didn't want to bother with making the world immersive or lived in or believable at best, they just didn't give enough of a fuck

They wanted to make this show and attatch Winx to it for.. what? Like did you even google the main plot points? The abridged version or sparknotes to get details on the very literal, basic characteristics of our main characters or their roles or the world they inhabit????

It lacks wonder and intrigue.. I mean Bloom moves to another dimension, a school for fairies and we don't see her marvel once at anything.. and that's because she might as well have been in Switzerland because she's in exactly the same environment she would've been in over there anyway.

They could've said Alfea was in Europe and I'd believe it because nothing about the setting makes it feel otherworldly. I'm sorry but I'm not impressed.

Why do the teachers and graduated specialists communicate via facetime ?? In the magic dimension. ??? Why do they text each other and those texts then appear on screen like .. oh look, like a bad netflix teen movie ????? HELLO ??? it's the way technology and magic could've blended in so seamless into the world THE WAY IT WAS ALREADY DONE/SHOWN. Missed opportunity. it just takes you out of it imo every time you see the ugly, bland, gray text bar. Some fucking flavour pls I'm begging

How stupid the specialist must feel clonking around with the skinniest shreds of armor, plastic swords on their backs and battery powered flashlights and cellphones in their bags. R we larping?? I know I'd be laughing and asking why we hadn't already come up with something more effective .. idk like guns. I'm surprised I ain't see one gun in there.

In the beginning Ms. Dowling says some nonsense about fairies having lost the ability to transform to explain why there are no wings, which means they could've transformed before. So are we to assume that this supposed to be set in the time proceeding the original then?? Because something is not adding up with where they should be as a magical society technologically if that's the case

How does the production team want to keep the dark academia vibes with torches lining the walls and also want them to be face timing each other, presumably from miles and miles away in the dark forest???

Pls pick an aesthetic and stick to it everything was so unnecessarily dark. Where do they charge their phones since it's the only device we see that is the slightest bit modern and dont fucking tell me they charge it with magic I will punch you in the face

Why is there only one major monarchy that we are shown? Why are Solaria the only ones contributing to the efforts to defend the school and where is this mysterious battalion we never see lmaoo it's all so bad its laughable.

Is this set in the kingdom of Solaria? And why does the queen of an alleged interdimensional superpower monarchy pull up in black SUVs??????????? Why does she pull up with Andreas?? Is he not the king of Erakleon?? Where are his soldiers and his battalion and just?? Huh!? The world just feels empty like nobody lives here fr

Are we supposed to believe that the specialists get paired up with fairies just as a normal occurence and that they have to 'trust each other' and not because the plot demands it suddenly half way through when all we've seen so far are the fairies doing normalish school and homework, and the specialists outside, being physical everyday all day. This was never even implied that they'd have to work together apart from when we see the faculty as youngins with Rosalind. But even then.. it's like well why are they even together lmao? Is this a special team formed from Rosalind’s protégées? Were they formed after graduating from Alfea or what is this?? Are they the ONLY team of specialist/fairies hunting every single burned one?? What?

Are we now supposed to buy that Musa is being switched to 'support' because that's where her strengths lie and not in combat?? Are we supposed to believe that these girls know hand to hand combat?? When was this established? We see Terra wrapping some baby vines around a dude and I'm sorry is that the practical application of her power? Is this what the fairies are supposed to do once they graduate? Or is it just a switch in curriculum because of the threats outside the barrier?? This is never made clear.

Because if not then what's the point of this?? Why do they suddenly have endless classes together when the expectation was never set for the fairies to be like soldiers or out in the field fighting ?

Where exactly are they supposed to be what was the purpose of including Aster Dell and why is it a joy ride away from Alfea lmao?? Where Bloom is from and also not from?? Plot pls make it make sense

Why are fairies from another dimension vaping or smoking weed?? They are not human so why are they engaging in specifically human vices, yol couldn't come up with anything else to characterize 'delinquents'?? Very lazy very como se dices.. no effort. Nothing a little more spicy yol could invent, at least change the name and some properties holy shit did yol even try ??

So its fairies everywhere, having a lil party in the east wing of a phat castle.. and they are playing beer pong and dressed in t shirts and jeans..

Can you hear me screaming? Can you hear me vibrating with rage?

Not one floating decoration or magical anything in sight. Just purple lights and subpar vibes

Stella's costume design: tragic. I won't discuss further because we don't have the space or time but just know that it was absolutely atrocious and I hated it. Giving very debutante vibes

The entire budget going to that lame transformation sequence that was not a transformation sequence and those horrible, barely-there fire wings

Edgelord bloom and all her fucking leather jackets. Why do 30 yo, white cis men think girls exist in a binary? They could keep her earlier characterization and make her a hothead.. Bloom literally screamed herself into a couple power upgrades in the original come ooonnnn

Let girls be feminine without it being a character flaw what is wrong with yol its 2021. They could make her more mature, more angsty or whatever the hell else and not style her like that

The way Aisha's abilities flipflop between episodes and scenes. Very inconsistent. One minute she's struggling with a drop of water and the next she is moving an entire body of water for her bestie Bloom to fake transform because the plot demands it. Why even add in her struggles at all if you're just going to ignore it?

Why was Stella with them in that scene? She didn't do anything literally.. Aisha pulled the water and she did .. nothing.

Who the fuck is Rosalind? Why would they add her in,, to add nothing to story? The company of light was a thing, they could've plucked one of them hoes to be the antagonist. Why did the winx club need their own Delores Umbridge? Valtor was right there if you wanted an evil educator type character.

The camera work was so bland during the down beats, stagnant and fixed during a fairy party and erratic and ugly and disorienting during the fight scenes

I'm not getting over the fairy party because it was a good opportunity for the production and everyone else to show the differences between where Bloom was and where she is now but instead it just looks like a regular teen high school party?? This could have been set in Switzerland fr.

Everyone's just kind of standing?? You mean to tell me these people are from all different places in the magical dimension and their customs are all the same? They all throw parties like this ??

White and flavorless I am very bored

I guess the main question or takeaway I have is just.. who is this for? Because everyone, including the showrunners keep saying that it's for us, the fans of the original. But apart from the characters sharing some names, there are really no other similarities. So again, who was this supposed to appease or placate or satisfy? Because it sure as hell wasn't the winx club fans.

Overall, this feels very much like something I wrote and probably published on ff.net when I was 13 because I thought girls couldn't be taken seriously if they liked pink, and injected angst into everything that didn't need it and had no idea how to structure scenes or dialogue. It's just bad, objectively and N*tflix will keep making shit like this because apparently some people have bad taste??? Idk yol, be easy

[loveshacks]

diego and soundman's accents

this one was a little harder since neither of them are given specific bithplaces in canon. i had to make a few assumptions in order to assign them an accent ^^' but somehow i feel like i got a more precise idea of their voices than gyro and johnny's?

Soundman: in canon, he's never given a more specific heritage than "native american" which, thank you. thanks. that helps. also for all my ~15 minutes of forum scouring i could not find anyone else who cared to try and figure out what tribe he might be. So I will do my best:

We know at least that they live somewhere in the desert, with their intro scene having a backdrop of mesas and cacti. we also know that they ride horses, which helps to narrow it down a little. based on that im guessing Apache, since Apache people are more well known for their horseback riding than their neighbors in the desert, the Puebloans. Some Apache people did live in tipis like Soundman's tribe seems to, but the Apache groups that lived in the desert (Lipan and Mescalero) generally lived in wikiups, which are similar, but less easily transportable. Like I said he doesn't seem to be based on any specific tribe, so the references to Native culture are all over the place.

But as if Apache is specific enough! Apache itself has two distinct languages within it (Eastern and Western) and at least four dialects within those. I'm going to assume Soundman is Mescalero Apache specifically, which would mean he speaks Mescalero-Chiricahua. Here is a sample of someone switching between english and Mescalero- altho that's a much more modern example, i think we can assume that's pretty close to how Soundman would speak!

My guess is that he learned english entirely from his books, since his tribe seems to be pretty anti-contact, so i believe his english would be pretty accented and probably become more adapted/smooth throughout the race. ok transcription time!

/ aj wɛl k'las͜ t̬ɛ k'an.t'ɛ.nɛnt wɛt maj fiːt ɛ'lõ: /

"eye well c(l)ass t'e cantenent wet my feet el-oan" (VERY roughly) here's the IPA reader , i recommend Ines for best results

reader friendly text: aj wɛl klas͜ t̬ɛ kantɛnɛnt wɛt maj fiːt ɛlõ:

the mescalero language does not have the [ð] (that, the), [ɹ] (red), or the [w] sounds, so i figure the "th" jumps to the next best thing, a flap [t̬ ] (butter, medal) and an [l] is slipped in in place of the [ɹ] as they are both pronounced in the same area of the mouth, assuming he doesn't just skip over the sound entirely. as for the [w] sounds, the neighboring languages, Western Apache and Navajo both include a [w] sound in their alphabet, so i don't think it's impossible for Soundman to say 'wet water is wet,' assuming he had contact with people outside his tribe.

The biggest difference is in the vowels. Mescalero does not have the [ɪ] (will, hit), [ə] (alone), [əʊ] (own, loan), or [ɒ] (cross, hot), and those are just the sounds i needed for this sentence ^^'. They do however have 4 different nasal vowels, which are kind of hard to imagine the sound of if you aren't familiar with them, but think of how the french say "jean" and you have a nasal 'a' right there. So I think Soundman would often slip back into nasal vowels, especially in place of a vowel/nasal consonant combo at the end of a word: the end of 'alone' slips to the soft palate, and he doesn't hit the 'n' sound on its own. Mescalero also doesn't have any diphthongs, most notably the [au] in sound. so his name probably sounds more like / sã: mã / assuming it's not a translation of some longer phrase.

The vowels would be the defining feature of his accent, since it seems a lot of english vowels don't translate into mescalero. Also, didn't get to mention this, but mescalero also has quite a few sounds that are more...lisp-y (i guess?), like [ɬ], [ɣ] and and [k'] idrk if i can write out an accurate pronunciation, check them out on this interactive chart. So i think he would end up using those sorts of sounds pretty often especially in place of tighter consonants, so like 'slip' might become 'shlip' and 'contact' might become "conta(cht) " with the ending "k" sound going towards the soft palate and being pretty closed off.

Diego: he's a poor british dude, so you'd think we could just pin him with a cockney accent and call it a day. Sadly it's just not that easy. And i like making things complicated. Cockney accents are found among lower class Londoners- aka city dwellers, and Diego was born and raised somewhere in the countryside. A few miles (or kilometers i guess, we're in the UK now) can really be a world of difference on an accent. so:

during his intro his parents take him "into the mountains" so that puts us up in the north of the country- and then he flows down a river and grows up on a farm. So I am pinning him with a Yorkshire accent, since it's an area of countryside directly next to the mountains, while newcastle seems a little too north (but imagine geordie diego lol) and scouse (liverpool) seems a little too far south/also on the other side of the mountains.

Here is the oldest example i can find of a yorkshire accent, someone born in 1912, and luckily it doesn't sound tooo different from the modern accent, at least not to my american ears :~). But, given his goal of 'climbing the ranks of society' it also makes sense for him make an effort to cover up his natural accent in order to sound more posh (aka upper received pronunciation). I'm thinking then that his speech would be characterized by a lot of dropped r's/ non-rhoticity (obv), glottal stops at the end of words (mostly to replace t's d's and k's), omitting h sounds from the beginning of words, as well as diphthong vowels and a majority of frontal vowels. he might even roll his 'r's if they're in the middle of a word, like 'brando' / bɾɑ:ndɔ /

if he's really minding himself though, he'll be sure to enunciate his t's & h's, follow the rises and falls of upper RP, and not roll his r's, since that would give him away as a...u know, / blʊ:dɛ kʰʊ:ntɾɛ: fʊ:k /

the vowels would be a little harder to mind, since upper rp vowels are generally formed nearer the front of the mouth, while yorkshire vowels are less restrained, more open (formed with a low tongue/open mouth), and not very subtle. yorkshire accents can also create diphthongs where there are none, so floor may be pronounced, flu-or.

/ a:bɛts kʰɑ:ntʰ be: fɛkst jʊs laɪʔ feɪtʰ /

" 'abets c(ah)n't b(eh) fex'd, joos lai' fate" (roughly) IPA reader i recommend Geraint or Amy to get the best results.

kinda weird sounding. i know. like i said, i think he would have trained himself to hit his t's (otherwise it would sound like, "abe's, ka' fae' " ) and some more posh sounding vowels like in can't (caaahn't) and be (beehh). And then there would be the bits of his natural accent that slip thru the cracks, like the dropped 'h' in habits, and the long 'u' sound in 'just.' (dkm he might sound sorta like louis tomlinson)

so there u have it ^_^ i might do valentine, steven steel and hot pants next

[girlwiththealligatortattoo]

Another sad day, and a stain on humanity, as Republican governor Brad Little, of Idaho, has signed a bill to allow the killing of up to 90% of Idaho's wolves. Even pro-hunting groups were against this bill, as it flies in the face of all science, promotes myths and lies, and lines the pockets of cattle ranchers.

I, for one, am SO WEARY, of animals, including wolves, wild horses, cougars, bears, coyotes, sage grouse, and many more, suffering because of the demand for cattle grazing land.

I've worked decades to pay my way daily for my education and the costs that it took to get where I am. And yet my tax dollars, against my will and ethical choice, go to pay for cattle to graze on public lands, and they pay for the murder of all of these animals. I find this to be an egregious abuse of my hard earned money. Let cattle ranchers fund their operations with their own lands and money - not mine.

Most Americans don't realize that they fund cattle grazing on public lands (because hey, that sounds harmless...in theory), but in turn, they also fund the demand of cattle ranchers to round up wild horses, the killing of wolves (as this horrible bill allows), and the removal of other species, along with the secondary deleterious environmental impacts. Most Americans that I know would be appalled to know that they pay to kill so many animals.

I'll continue to fight these horrific practices, through spreading my message of the importance of other animals, through my active writing to political leaders, and through my support of good animal conservation organizations. I think it's very important to emphasize, that we too, are an animal, and EVERY ANIMAL has limited resources. Please consider that if you have a meal tonight, and a roof, you are fortunate, not entitled.

The notion of entitlement in nature is a farce. We live behind a façade of "civilization" full of concrete and grocery stores, and we are far removed from actual survival skills. The human animal has become more of a consumer than a producer. More of a parasite.

Nearly half of our adults in America have metabolic syndrome and fatty liver disease, and the diseases of modernity such as diabetes, heart disease, and even Alzheimer's are directly tied to our consumption. I'm just not sure that our "progress" has truly been what it claims to be.

And I'm sure that an animal that practices this horrific killing for money is decidedly NOT civilized.

No animal outlasts its resources, and that will include us. Every animal is "checked" by nature. COVID should have been a wake up call, but I'm not sure that it has been. I'm very uncertain of our supposed "intelligence."

I sure hope we can turn our legacy around. Let us make our legacy not one of pathetic, greedy consumption. Let us make our legacy one in which we understand our place in this absolute MIRACLE that we call LIFE. Let us cherish, rather than destroy. Let us find balance. Let us walk in beauty upon this earth, rather than take, take, take, take, take...

There are wonderful people out there, who care about other humans, and they care about other animals. To you, I salute you. I honor you. My spirit bows to your spirit. And thank you for being who you are. You are who and what gives me hope.

Shame on you, Idaho. What a great reason for me to stay the hell away when I'm considering where I might want to spend my dollars. I'm utterly appalled. And my soul is devastated. And yet I'm fortified; I'm determined. I will fight these blatantly unethical practices tooth and nail, until my last breath.

Beautiful people. Please stop leaving choices to politicians. Can't you see the blatant corruption in every political party and every corner? The back door deals and not allowing citizens to make the call? These folks are largely bought and paid for by one industry or another. It's disgusting and shameful. But you have power, my fellow American citizen. You have the power of choice. Because it is obviously the almighty dollar that we collectively worship.

One of the absolute most effective things you can do, that would help with so many issues, is to VOTE WITH YOUR DOLLARS. Remember, whether consciously or not, you are making a choice every time you purchase something. If you quit buying it, the demand will drop.

It will be better for the environment, and better for your health. Every dollar you spend on food, whether it is meat or some processed packaged food, ultimately winds up, defining so much of the outcome of your metabolic health. Ultimately, that impacts our healthcare system.

And frankly, to me, a nation of unhealthy people, is a national security risk. And yet we buy their products, make ourselves sick, destroy other species and environments in the process, and then we buy their medications to treat the symptoms. We live long lives, but often not quality lives. Why not just treat the cause? Why not try to ensure your health rather than indulge your taste buds to the tune of "Oh I love this so much and I could never give this up..."

Believe me, I was raised in a family that owned steak houses and churned out good Southern food. I get it. I have a sweet tooth like nobody's business. But let me be clear: when I see, and saw, what goes on, you'd better be damn sure that I can, and will give it up. I will not allow my taste buds and preferences to remain static and override my empathy and my knowledge of healthy choices for myself, other animals, our healthcare system, and for sustainable human life on this planet.

You won't catch me purchasing cattle for consumption. Why?

Because this is no small family raising and consuming their own. Most folks wouldn't know the first thing about gardening or animal husbandry for survival. Purchase of foods in plastic from containers in grocery stores, where everything seems so abundant, has contributed to us becoming a very sick animal indeed, mentally, emotionally, and physically, because we are SO OUT OF TOUCH.

This is big business, with unethical acts involved, that is subsidized against my will, as a taxpayer. And I will take a stand by refusing to purchase their products.

Remember, this is a chain of events that brings them to your plate. The slaughterhouse is horrific, and yet it is only one step in the many, that are casualties of the demand for beef.

Please think about it.

This is a sad, sad mark on humanity.

This bill was about MONEY, not elk, and not other lies they toss at us, most of which we consume eagerly. We turn off our minds, let our eyes glaze over, and eat our Oreos, while binge-watching Netflix. We like to keep these issues out of sight and out of mind. As if they don't concern us. They don't pay our bills, so why worry. I hope we can do better than that. I know we can, if we just try. We can be an amazing and ethical animal.

Let's say no to the blue pill they like to give us. Let's red pill it, folks. Once again, our politicians fail us, while lining their pockets, and big business.

Come on, America. We can do better than this.

[ineffablecolors]

I'm sending you 42. and 80. (because this gotta be funnnn) for the trope mash-up, but only as long as you don't forget that you also kinda promised to write the pregnant-neighbor-comes-begging-for-food thing. Because I won't forget about it. :)

The lovely @laschatzi is talking about this post. I cheated a little bit but I hope you’d like how because now we have

Hungry pregnant neighbour + The Big Damn Kiss + Green-Eyed Epiphany 

Family Recipe;  ~ 5, 500 words; FF.NET || AO3

previous: wilderness/survival + I Didn’t Mean To Turn You On &Detective AU  + Awful First Meeting

Killian is somewhatashamed to admit that he has become something of a take-out guy.

It’s just… it’s one ofthose things he never got back into after losing his hand. Like volleyball. Orplaying the guitar. Or arm wrestling Will. Or the black nail polish. Or goingto the beach. Or hitting on that cute girl at the bakery around the corner. Orgirls,period. Or basically anyone he didn’t already know before the accident.

But anyway. Cooking.He never got back into cooking. He was never all that good at it to begin withbut it gave him a funny sort of pride and he enjoyed it.

He enjoyed having togo to three different stores to manage to collect all the herbs and spices fora proper curry. And lying all his products out – basically filling everyavailable space and then having to push stuff around to have somewhere toactually cook. And chopping histomatoes really fine – concasse, was it? – and his onions not quite because hedid not enjoy crying over their massacred corpses. And – never to be revealedto another living soul – making a mini forest around his chopping board withthe broccoli and the cauliflower. And the whole kitchen smelling for two daysafter. And basically making a mess of every horizontal surface – and thevertical ones that one time when he was learning how to spin pizza dough.

Yeah, he enjoyed that.And then he didn’t. Couldn’t. Didn’t.

And now here he is,sipping his beer and scrolling down his take-out app as if he doesn’t knowhe’ll get the Chinese because he had pizza twice during the week and they’vetotally ruined the Mexican place and Liam says he is a masochist but he is nota ‘take-out sushi’ level of masochist.

He looks outside.Checks his watch. At least two more hours of solid daylight. He wasn’t evenhungry yet. He could get some tortilla chips to snack on while trying to see ifhis oven still works.

Really… what couldhappen?

///

Mrs Lucas has spoilther.

It is the only reasonEmma is even contemplating this. That and the fact that it smells really good.

And look here, Emma isnot one of those girls that needs to always get what she wants. She iscertainly not used to getting whatshe wants. It’s just… her baby doesn’t seem to have followed in her footsteps.

It might havesomething to do with said baby not even having feet to walk with yet. Or… shethinks – tries to remember what she’s been readying semi-obsessively and thenthrowing under the bed as if the books are judging her for her singleness andbrokenness and the general dinginess of her apartment – maybe it has feetalready?

They’re definitelyforming but definitely not usable hence no following in any footsteps anytimesoon. There. She’s leaving it at that. Maybe she’ll dig out that last book fromunder her bed tonight. After she has some dinner.

Which brings her rightback to the problem at hand.

She is pretty surethat 5C is one of those bachelors that live on beer, pizza and whatever elseyou can get delivered to your door; has a football or poker night with the guysevery month – see the football she is sure about ‘cause those walls are fuckingthin and those boys are fucking loud but she likes to imagine the pokeras well ever since she saw the guy in this super slick vest that she is sureonly people who can actually step into a casino and somehow manage to not look sleazy own; occasionally blaststoo loud music but not often enough to warrant a complaint; puts Netflix on loud enough and regularly enough that her brokeass is hoping she can keep up with the new season of Stranger Things simply bymoving her couch next to the wall his TV sits against; never brings girls backto his place.

Honestly, Emma is notjudging (or stalking – the walls are thin).She’d probably be giving 5C a run for his money on the easy single living, ifshe wasn’t pregnant and broke and grumpy half the time and hungry the otherhalf – which also makes her grumpy, and generally disillusioned with humanityand the world and the idea that one might actually be able to enjoy life andnot struggle through it at every step and did she mention broke? She is brokeand constantly hungry and constantly trying to fool her baby into thinking thathe likes overcooked pasta and whatever fruits are on sale this week.

He doesn’t. He likeswhatever 5C is cooking.

///

This was a disastrousidea. The kind of disastrous idea he hasn’t had since he was 4 years old andthought that if he puts snails on Liam’s bed they’d stay there and not like…make their way all over the room that Killianshared with Liam.

This is worse thansnails. This is a dozen utensils in the sink already – because of course hetosses a spoon in the sink the second after he has used it once, of course, why put it to the side and use it again when hehas to stir his unholy concoction, and half a dozen plates – one of those inpieces in a trash bag by the door because your one hand being a slippery one isnot the situation in which you want to be handling porcelain.

He has a sizeable cuton his big toe where he stepped on one of the pieces and his t-shirt issticking to his back from the effort of grinding bloody vegetable – Jesus, heused to run miles without breaking a sweat and now blasted carrots are gettingthe best of him, and all he has to show for all his work is what he hopes is apassable mince.

Now for the mash. Hestill has three limbs and 14 uninjured digits to go…

///

Look, Emma doesn’thave much but she has her pride, ok? And this kid growing inside her has madeher relinquish her hold on that enough to knock on Mrs Lucas’s door and ask herwhat it was she put in her cookies because apparently Emma – or someone else, was addicted to it nowand it was not cinnamon. And that hadtransitioned into Emma becoming almost a firm fixture at Granny’s on weekendsand then into Emma busting tables for a month until Granny gave her a nononsense look and told her she won’t be doing this in a few more months, andafter a week of asking and listening and string pulling and cookie bribing, shegot her a job at August’s bookstore even though he still grumbles that he doesn’tlike anyone else ordering his books.

And, yes, this allworked out pretty well but Mrs Lucas was the one that came to her door on her first week in thebuilding with a plate of those cookies that by this point Emma can barely lookat.

(It’s what she does.She falls in love with peanut butter and then eats so many PBJ sandwiches thatnow she almost gets sick at the mere sight of a jar on the counter. And shehears the The Kooks coming from 5C’s wall and goes on to listen to them onrepeat for two weeks. Mind you, not even everything but just Junk of the Heartbecause she is mental like that. And she starts Modern Family, when she stillhad a freaking Netflix account, and binges the whole damn thing in a couple ofweekends and a few late week nights.)

So, yeah, Emma mighthave some addictive tendencies – the legal kind, and some impulse controlissues.

But Emma would neveractually go to someone’s door – someone she has never exchanged a single wordwith despite sometimes hearing their voice float through her wall – and, yeah,he has a pretty voice but what’s that gonna do for her? shitty people can havegreat voices, she is sure – to ask them forthe love of all that is good and holy, what they are cooking because it smellsso fucking good and she has to know and she has to have something that at leastcomes close to it.

She’d never.

///

It’s in the oven. It’sover. Well, all he has to do now is make sure he doesn’t burn the damn thing toa crisp. But if he managed to put it together in the first place, for the firsttime tonight, Killian thinks he can maybe pull this off.

///

It got worse. Worse asin better. Fuck, it got so much better. And now her stomach is grumbling andshe has made for the door three times in the last five minutes and for thefirst time tonight Emma is coming to the horrible realization that she probablywon’t be able to survive this day with her dignity intact.

///

He is just about todig into his plate – fancy plate set and fancy napkins that he didn’t even knowhe owned and the second episode of American Gods queued up and-

There’s a knock on hisdoor.

Killian freezes withhis fork in the air, eyebrows bunching together. Who on earth? He knows hehasn’t invited any of the guys over and Liam knows better than to just drop infor an unexpected ‘we are going out and getting you someone to go home with’visit by this point.

He waits. Nothing.Maybe he imagined it?

///

“There, happy?”

Emma glances down ather slightly rounded stomach and tries on her best ‘mom look’. She thinksshe’ll definitely need to work on that one before the baby comes out because heis already too stubborn for her owngood.

She glances at thedoor with 5C on it one more time, raises her hand and then drops it again.

No. She knocked. Thisis a sign. For once the universe is sparing her the embarrassment and-

“Yes?”

No, of course, not.Why would the universe ever spare her anything?

///

She must be the onethat knocked. 5B. His sweatpants neighbour.

Killian tries not tofeel bad about the nickname. They’ve never been properly introduced and… well,he has mostly seen her back disappearing inside her apartment or her back goingdown the stairs with laundry or her back rushing below his window on a jog. Sohe’s never seen her in anything but sweatpants. He’s not judging. It’s just…the only thing he had to go on.

She is in sweatpantsnow as well but as he looks at her to ask what she needs, he is taken aback byher green eyes. He is taken aback by the sudden realization that his neighbouris this young and very pretty woman and her eyes are the kind of eyes you can’thelp but notice.

It’s… interesting. Hehas heard the soundtrack of her daily life through the wall they share for afew months now but somehow he never imagined the face and body that must gowith those sounds.

As he thinks his gazeslides down almost involuntary and he doesn’t know what catches his attentionmore: the fact that she is a few months pregnant or the fact that she came overbarefoot.

The latter is trulyendearing, the former a tad disheartening for some reason.

Not that he hasanything against kids. Or pregnant women. It’s just… it’s not every day yourealize your neighbour is a pretty girl about your age and currently standingat your doorstep. But he shouldn’t have just assumed and anyway he doesn’treally… that is… is she ever gonna say something?

///

“Lass?”

Emma shakes her head alittle and wants to slap herself back into reality. You know that space andtime continuum where she is not attaching thisman to every sound she has ever heard come through their wall.

(She is convinced heplays air guitar when blasting Bon Jovi hits and that his eyes blaze reallybright when he is swearing at something about “bloody this” and “bloody that”.)

“Umm, hi. Sorry. I…”

He raises an eyebrow.She doesn’t really appreciate the mix of amusement and expectation. Then again,she is standing on his doorstep. He probably has some right to expect anexplanation. Why on earth didn’t she rehearse what she’ll say if he opened thedoor?

“Did you needsomething?”

Fuck.

“I just… ummm, am I botheringyou?”

“Not at all, lass. But,to be frank, I’ll probably be more capable of answering truthfully, if you toldme what you are here for.”

The hell? Was hetalking like that on purpose?

“I-“

Come on, Emma, like aband aid, nowhere to go now unless you wanna be the weirdo asking for a cup offlour.

“What you arecooking?’

///

“Oh.”

Oh. Bloody hell.

Killian can feel hischeeks heating up and focuses half his attention on keeping his hand at hisside and not scratching his damn ear.

“I apologize. I didn’tconsider the smell might bother some-“

“No. No, no, no. Ilike it! So… I was wondering what it was.”

She likes it? Thattimid feeling of pride he felt when he took his dinner out of the over and it wasn’t burn to a crisp grows threetimes.

“It’s just ashepherd’s pie. Slightly altered recipe. My mum’s. Supposedly, probably muckedit up along the way and it’s twice altered now but yeah… Shepherd’s pie.”

“Oh.”

///

Great. She was hopingfor something along the lines of a lasagna. Then maaaybe she could’ve boughtsome frozen crappy version from the supermarket and tried to cheat her bodyinto thinking it was the real thing.

But no, of course,not. It had to be shepherd’s pie. Family recipe edition. Just her damn luck.

“Well, thanks. Andsorry! I was just… curious. Sorry to bother you.”

///

She turns to go andthis might have been the most bizarre conversation he’s had this month.Including that guy on the underground with the orange hair.

Did she just want toknow what the smell invading her home was? She did say she liked it. Maybe-

She is already half toher door so Killian just thinks to hell with it.

“Would you like some?”

He sees her stop deadin her tracks and cringes, hoping he isn’t now the biggest weirdo of her month.And not in a good way.

The blonde turnsaround and he knows the second he sees her face that she would indeed likesome. But Killian likes to think of himself as at least moderately intelligentso he keeps his smile to himself and instead prepares for the distrust in hereyes that is obviously warring with her appetite.

“Do you usually offerfood to unknown women who come knocking on your door?”

“I can’t say, you arethe first.”

He doesn’t actuallysee her cheeks change colour but then again he thinks it might be because shehas been blushing this entire time.

“I didn’t mean tobother-“

“It’s no bother, love.Truly. Now that I feel knowledgeable enough about your intensions to say so.”

She rolls her prettygreen eyes in a way that has his pulse speeding up a bit.

“Plus I just made adish more people share with a family of four. For myself. I think I can sparewhatever you can eat.”

It’s a gamble thatpays off when he sees her eyes blaze up and let’s himself grin at herteasingly.

“I’m sorry, was that achallenge to how much I can eat?”

He steps aside andwaves her in.

She only hesitates fora second.

///

OK, first of all, hisapartment is waaay better than hers like, both bigger and with more naturallight coming in but also simply more tidy and colour-coordinated. Also, ifpossible, it smells even better inside and Emma’s eyes immediately zero in onthe dish on the kitchen counter.

She hears 5C chucklebehind her and tries not to feel even more embarrassed. Her capacity for itmust be running out by this point. Thankfully, he doesn’t make a comment butjust moves around his kitchen island and takes out a plastic food container.IKEA guy. Cute.

It probably takes hera bit longer than it should – what with her still mostly trying to pretend sheis not hustling her nice and pretty neighbour for food – but eventually Emmanotices the peculiar way he moves around his kitchen and operates only with hisright hand. A quick inspection proves that it is because he simply has no leftone to assist him.

“No shit!”

The guy startles ather words and turns around and probably follows her gaze because in the nextmoment the limb is tucked slightly behind him and he is giving her a tensesmile.

“Shit, I’m afraid.”

She honest to Godcovers her mouth. Better late than never. Or not.

“Shit. I mean, sorry!Sorry. I wasn’t- I was just- you cook?!”

5C frowns at her as ifher person skills are something that would only befit a visiting alien. He’sgot her there.

“Sorry. Again. But,like, I can’t cook for shit even with two hands.”

To be fair, the crapproducts she can afford probably have something to do with it but Emma is gonnabe a single mom pretty soon and she is pretty sure that “to be fair”s won’t cutit when she has to cook for her kid.

But makes-food-that-smells-illegally-good-single-handedlyneighbour seems to relax a little.

Foot – partially outof mouth.

///

Killian tries to unbunchthe muscles in his neck and not keep his right side weirdly angled towards her.It’s fine. Really, it’s fine. She was bound to notice eventually.

“To be honest, this ismy first try in quite some time.”

“Seriously?”

“Indeed. So if you getfood poisoning or something, I’m not to be held accountable.”

The thought gives himpause and he turns to her with his eyebrows all drawn together and almostreluctant to hand her the container in his hand.

“Actually, are youallergic to anything? I mean… I don’t think there’s anything too weird in itand everything I used was fresh but-“

He can’t help butglance down at her stomach. Gods, she ispregnant, right? This will be just the kind of thing-

But the blonde’s handcomes up to her stomach and she smiles at him almost shyly and Killian breathesout a quiet sigh of relief.

“I’m sure it will befine. I mean, the things I’ve been feeding myself… I’m pretty sure someonemight get a bit of a shock from the home-cooked food but definitely not the badkind.”

He tries not tooveranalyze the “feeding myself” part and instead nods and finally hands thecontainer with half of his shepherd’s pie inside.

“Whoa. You really arechallenging me.”

He laughs and dips hishead to the side to admire the way her eyes widen a little.

“It should keep for acouple of days if you put it in the fridge. And you can always just feed it toSmee.”

“Smee?”

“Oh.”

His cold ring grazeshis earlobe and dammit, he forgot to watch out for the damn tick.

“I named the cat thatalways hangs around behind the building.”

“Oooh, ok. And hellno.”

She hugs the food toher chest almost protectively and Killian laughs again and bloody hell, is hecoming across too giggly or something? What else can he say? He-

“Well, I shouldprobably let you finally eat your dinner. Whatever you have left,” she beatshim to it and juts her thumb at the door and he can’t really do anything butnod.

///

She is alreadystepping outside, teeth embedded in her lip and what do you say to the cute neighbour that fed you dinner but not inthe date sense?

“Oh. I’m Emma, by theway. Emma Swan.”

His eyes light up andEmma finally gets to put a mark in the ‘didn’t fuck it up’ column.

“Pleasure to meet you,Swan. Killian Jones. Always at your service, though I must warn you, myculinary repertoire is quite limited.”

Killian Jones with thefancy words and delicious food. Fuck.

///

She uses her employeediscount on something other than baby books for the first time.

He finds the bookwaiting for him outside his door. The post-it note says “This is why peoplelike home-cooked food. Who knew.” And the book is Neil Gaiman’s Fragile Things and it takes him a momentto connect the dots and remember that he was watching Amarican Gods the othernight and, yeah, maybe it makes him feel kinda good that Emma Swan noticed andremembered that.

///

He tries some Mexicannext and it’s 100% because his favourite place has gone to crap and not at allbecause he once saw their delivery guy in front of 5B.

She opens the door andhis face is half-obscured by an IKEA container and he says it’s just a not sosubtle reminder that she hasn’t returned the other one yet and she pretends tobelieve him.

///

She reasons that youcan’t return food containers empty so she tries to bake muffins because muffinsare supposed to be easy.

He hears the firealarm and five second later he is banging on her door and having a veryflustered Emma Swan dragging him inside and pointing at her oven or what can beseen of it behind the cloud of smoke and explaining how it’s all his fault.

///

He’s been looking fora not food-related reason to knock on her door for a week and coming up emptyand he is damn rusty when it comes to talking to pretty girls but then againshe is pregnant and the fact that he didn’t see a naked man in the middle ofher kitchen the one time he was there for 10 minutes doesn’t mean anything somaybe that’s for the best.

She knocks on his doora day after Stranger Things comes out with three bags of popcorn, explainingthat only one of them is for him, obviously.

///

She lives to binge andyet here she is trying to stretch an 8-episode season over more than a week.

He honestly debatescalling Netflix and begging them to somehow somehowrelease more episodes of their damn show.

///

He has been thisscared exactly once in his entire life and that situation included headlightscoming straight at him.

She has a freakingstomach ache, probably from too much popcorn, and she is almost as embarrassedwhen she comes out of the doctor’s office as she was that first night sheknocked on his door but Killian doesn’t really seem to care how she is ok as long as she is.

///

She is scrollingthrough her Instagram at work and she is so bored and distracted that shealmost misses it but then she goes back and blinks and then goes to the accountto check this is not some sort of ridiculous surveillance thing or she doesn’teven know what – but sure enough, there – on @cutestparentstobe, is a pictureof her very pregnant self, eating ice-cream on the beach with one KillianJones.

He doesn’t know how heworms his way into a doctor’s appointment, he just knows that when the nursecalls him “daddy” Emma kinda sputters but doesn’t say anything to contradicther and he sure as hell keeps his trap shut and just smiles and nods when theygive him an ultrasound picture all for himself.

///

They’ve been doingwhatever they are doing for 4 freaking months and within the first couple ofweeks they were already using like only 30% of his couch for the both of themand in a month they started venturing outside the bubble of their apartmentsand Emma never thought she’d be thehand-holding type but yeah, they kinda hold hands all the time and they hug,like, every day and they text all the freaking time while they are at work andshe meets Liam when she is 7 months pregnant and convinced that he is gonnahate her on sight for saddling his little brother with herself and he doesn’treally but he also doesn’t seem to love her on sight and Killian is verypointedly unamused by the lukewarm reception but honestly, Emma is just glad tobe given a chance here, and he goes shopping for baby stuff she can barelyafford with her and then he goes shopping for baby stuff by himself and shegets kinda angry and they kinda break up or whatever at least twice, basicallyeach time Emma decides that this is ridiculous and he can’t just date a girlthat is having another guy’s baby and that’s twice the size she should be andthat he’s only known for a few months and one night Killian lines up fourfreaking shepherd’s pies outside her door and if she even keeps her door closedto that then she must be dead inthere and one night he lets it slip about these therapy sessions that he issupposed to go to but doesn’t and she basically makes an appointment for himand drags him out of the door and maybe threatens him with not coming to herdoctor’s appointments anymore, if he doesn’t go to his.

And through all that and then some, they never actuallykiss.

Sure he kisses hercheek when he wishes her goodnight and she kisses his head when he falls asleepon her during Lord of the Rings and he kisses her hand placatingly every timehe tries to dissuade her from helping him with dinner and she kisses hisforearm in the park that one time he freaks out on her because she is on hisleft side and goes to hold his arm and he kisses her stomach the first time shegrabs his hand and lets him feel the baby kicking but-

They’ve never properly kiss and it’s this lastfrontier and maybe he is waiting for her to cross it but she just can’t seem to.

And then she is givingbirth and he is there when she is givingbirth and they haven’t even kissed.

And then there’s Henryand they both kiss him plenty but-

///

they don’t kiss whenKillian refuses to hold her baby and she is hurt and offended and so confusedand kinda angry and then he says he can’t, he can’t hold him with one hand andshe is just sad and, yeah, maybe still kinda angry but also eerily calm as shebents Killian’s elbow and gives him the kind of look that makes him shut hismouth audibly and places her son in his arms

they don’t kiss whenKillian barges in on her breastfeeding and twirls around on the spot, slappinga hand over his face and sputtering apologies while all she can do is laugh andlaugh and tell him to stop acting like her tits are a big deal and make her acup of that crappy decaf coffee and he does and he also makes sure to look herdirectly in the eyes and then wink very poorly when he says that her tits are a big deal

they don’t kiss when Henrystarts teething and Emma is up at all hours of the night and she looks likefucking hell and Killian tells her so in no uncertain terms and basically,somehow, taking advantage of her sleep-deprived brain, manages to rope her intoa teeth-sharing plan which basically includes her passing half of her insomniaonto him and Emma can’t forgive him and at the same time can’t love him enoughand yeah, she loves him now and they’ve known each other for a year and they haven’t fucking kissed and what ever

///

they don’t kiss whenshe asks him if he thinks maybe, possibly Liam would like to meet Henry and allKillian can do is nod and swallow and start planning the kind of lecture he’llgive his brother, if he dares to voice any of his doubts about the soundness of the situation, but Liamseems to think that if his brother is spending half his day around a certainbaby – no matter whose it is – it probably isn’t a terrible idea for him tomeet said baby and Liam Jones may be a military man and he may have nevergotten over the fact that he didn’t manage to protect his little brother fromall the evils of the world and he may have been determined to give Emma Swan ahard time for even the slightest hint of her using Killian but he is also puttyin the hands of Henry Swan within 10 minutes

they don’t kiss thefirst time she uses the key to his apartment and sneaks into his bedroom in themiddle of the night – baby in her arms and her hair into the messiest bun thathas ever been twisted and her damn sweatpants and her eyes all puffy and herwhispered worries all about not being able to do it and being all alone and notbeing good enough and he just folds himself around both of them and tries tostart the process of getting each ridiculous notion out of her head

they don’t kiss when shetells Henry to spot throwing his food all over daddy and Killian just standsthere – carrot puree all over his t-shirt, and watches as she continueswhipping the eggs in front of her as if she didn’t just- and he loves them bothtoo damn much to point it out and risk having her take it back and bloody hell,he loves her now and they’ve been together for all intents and purposes forover a year now and they haven’t bloodykissed and good lord

///

She comes back fromthe store and heads directly to Killian’s apartment and tries to calculate ifshe and Henry are spending more time at her place or at his at this point. Butas soon as she opens the door and the smell hits her, her calculations are leftoutside in the cold and it’s all she can do not to moan out loud. Turns out itwasn’t just the little guy growing inside her that made her love Killian’spies.

She hears the lowmurmur of Killian’s voice and decides to tiptoe into the kitchen as quietly aspossible. She wants to look at them without giving her presence away just yet,when it’s just them.

And sure enough Henryis tucked into Killian’s left arm, his little fist twisted into the hair at theback of her boyfriend’s neck (god, he is not her freaking boyfriend, along withHenry in his arms he is her entire fucking universe).

She knows what theyare making already but she narrows her eyes as she realizes that she has neveractually seen Killian make his shepherd’spie.

“This is the only wayI can make your mom eat these, Henry.”

He twirls a broccoliin front of her son’s little nose and Emma rolls her eyes. Partially because it’strue and partially because the broccoli version is not her most favourite.

“When you are oldenough I’m gonna teach you how to make it on your own but for now I’ll justshow you how to make yourself a little forest.”

She honestly doesn’tknow if it’s the implication of years tocome in his promise, the fact that he says it so confidently, so easily,without any doubt, without any caveat of “if we are still together”, withoutany alternative in his mind. Or if it’s the fucking forest of broccoli that heis arranging around his chopping board like the most precious human being thathe is.

Emma honestly doesn’tknow. But she does drop the bag she is carrying on the floor and she crossesthe space between them in the time it takes Killian to turn around and open himmouth to greet her. And then she finally finallyfeels his lips under her own.

He tastes even betterthan his damn pie.

[beautifulnightmarepost]

A Powerful Playlist

1. Respect - Aretha Franklin (Song details)

Released: April 29, 1967 Genre:

Songwriter(s): Otis Redding

Producer(s): Jerry Wexler

For me, the song "Respect" has always been one of the first songs that comes to mind when I think of Women's empowerment. Even though I have heard the song before, listening to this song takes me back to my marching band days. Researching this song promoted motived me to learn the lyrics.

"A little respect oh yeah (just a little bit)

A little respect (just a little bit)

I get tired (just a little bit) Keep on tryin' (just a little bit)

You're runnin' out of fools (just a little bit)

And I ain't lyin' (just a little bit)"

While the song wasn't originally written by Aretha, she truly made it her own by adding a few details. It is worth noting that Aretha was the first one to add the iconic “R-E-S-P-E-C-T" hook line. Thus she, and her creative team helped to make this a woman's empowerment anthem.

Aside from the amazing lyrics, there is just something so cool about the tempo and arrangement of this song. The intro is so upbeat and fun I cannot help but start to dance.

2. “Miss Independent” – Kelly Clarkson

Released: April 10, 2003

Songwriter(s):  Rhett Lawrence, Kelly Clarkson, Christina Aguilera, Matt Morris

Producer(s): Rhett Lawrence

The song “Miss Independent” is another that comes to mind when I personally think about the woman’s empowerment movement. Kelly Clarkson combines creative vocals and thoughtful lyrics to really drive the point home. It is also interesting to note that other artists had turned this song down before it arrived to Clarkson. It would turn out to be her first attempt at writing a song with a group and, after her American Idol Win, it really made her as a star. The lyrics:

“So, by changing her

Misconceptions, she went in a new direction

And found inside she felt a connection”

really drive home the meaning. In short, a catching driving pop tempo and creative lyrics are the reason this song made my list.

3. “Independent Women (Part 1),” – Destiny’s Child

Released:  September 14, 2000

Songwriter(s):  Tone, Poke, Cory Rooney & Beyoncé

Producer(s): Beyoncé, Cory Rooney & Trackmasters

Desitny's child has many inspiring songs about empowerment. I could list, at least five songs that I could have used for my play list! Nonetheless, “Independent Women” is my favorite of their catalog and that is why I picked it for my list. The overall song has creative lyrics and a fun catchy beat. I can still really dance along to this song as a teen. Even as an adult, I still find the words fun and inspiring. This song drives home the idea that woman can provide for themselves. Fun fact, this song spent 11 weeks (about 2 and a half months) at number one on the Hot 100, becoming the group’s longest running number one.

“Try to control me, boy, you get dismissed Pay my own car note and I pay my own bills Always fifty-fifty in relationships”

The above lyrics drive home two important points, equality in the woman’s movement while still maintaining some independence”

4. “None of Your Business" by Salt-N-Pepa

Released: October 1, 1993

Songwriter(s):  Herby “Luvbug” Azor

Producer(s): Herby “Luvbug” Azor

Salt’ Peppa are another amazing female trio. They also have a catalog filled with impowering songs. While it was hard to pick just one, “None of Your Business” will always be one of my favorites. I remember when this song first came out. Yet the lyrics have a different feel now that I am an adult. “None of Your Business,” creative lyrics drive home a this fits right in with the overall theme for woman’s empowerment. This mix of rap and rock make this one of my favorites, because it crosses genres with its creation.

“So the moral of this story is: Who are you to judge?

There's only one true judge, and that's God

So chill, and let my Father do His job”

These words have still stuck with me to this day.

5. “Hard Out Here,” -- Lilly Allen

Released: November 17, 2013

Songwriter(s):  Greg Kurstin & Lily Allen

Producer(s): Greg Kurstin

Lilly Allen has a catalog of fun quirky yet meaningful songs. I cannot recall exactly where I was when I first heard about this amazing artist... but I remember being instantly hooked. Whenever I am having a rough day, her songs were always one of my go-too. So, needless to say, “Hard Out here” will always be one of my favorite songs by Lilly. This song is a mix of creative lyrics with the artists own brand of fun and quirky sarcasm. Thes lyrics are one of the main reasons why I picked this song for my list:7. “We Run This,” Missy Elliott

Released: February 21, 2006

Songwriter(s):  Rhemario “Rio Beats” Webber, Jerry Lordan & Missy Elliott

Producer(s): Rhemario “Rio Beats” Webber

Miss Elliot is another amazing female artist who has a lot of songs that fall under the theme over Woman’s empowerment. I picked the song “We Run This” because I thought it would best fit the overall flow of my playlist. This song mixes Electronic with hip hop genre of music. It has an upbeat tempo, making it one of those great songs with a fun “vibe.” Even though this song has some explicit lyrics, like the Liliya Allen song listed above, it also makes a point with those lyrics:

“You don't want beef, don't take it that far with a superstar I got my foot on the clutch, see me bounce my butt Misdemeanor too much and I don't give a fuck”

The lyrics shout “I am large and in charge,” and would make a good empowerment anthem.

“There's a glass ceiling to break, uh-huh There's money to make And now it's time to speed it up 'Cause I can't move at this pace"

The goal to break the glass ceiling is an ongoing one for the woman’s empowerment movement. It is nice that this song gives a slight nod to that ongoing struggle. Not to mention, the music video takes a few sharp jabs at entertainment industry. The overall tempo and music arrangement also makes this song memorable.

6. “Bitch” Meredith Brooks

Released: May 20, 1997

Songwriter(s):  Meredith Brooks & Shelly Peiken

Producer(s): Geza X

This song, by name will always come to mind when I think of Woman’s empowerment. Sure, the title might throw some people who are a little more sensitive. In my option its song’s main title is not used in a derogatory fashion. In my option, it feels empowering to call out the main part of the hook. I remember when it first came out... the lyrics struct me as very empowering, even at an early age. It was just fun to call out the tittle (much to the chagrin of my mother). "Bitch" starts off with a slow tempo and seems a bit unassuming, "innocent and sweet". Until the song changes up as the tempo song. Each time I hear this song I cannot help but song. The lyrics are fun yet gives you a something to think about:

“When you hurt, when you suffer I'm your angel undercover I've been numb, I'm revived Can't say I am not alive You know I wouldn't want it any other way”

8. “I'm Every Woman” Whitney Huston

Released: November 17, 1992

Songwriter(s):  Nickolas Ashford & Valerie Simpson

Producer(s): Narada Michael Walden

Whitney Huston will always be one of those amazing female artists. I can still recall when I first heard this song on the radio. As a young girl, it made me feel uplifted, as if I could grow up to be anything. That, hopefully, when I became a woman, that I would be able to go on to do remarkable things. Now, that I am older, I can full appreciate the importance of this song. As with some of the pervious songs, "I am Every Woman" has a good pace tempo. It is one of those fun, yet empowering songs, that gets people up and dancing. Hopefully, this powerful message will continue to be passed down to younger generations, and the singer's legacy will never be forgotten.

“Whatever you want

Whatever you need

Anything you want done baby

I do it naturally

Cause I'm every woman (Every woman)"

9. “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves,” Eurythmics feat. Aretha Franklin

Released:  October 1, 1985

Songwriter(s):  David A. Stewart & Annie Lennox

Producer(s): David A. Stewart

While there are many modern songs for woman’s empowerment, I wanted to add this older tune to provide a better mix.  “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves,” is one of those classic songs that drives the point. These lyrics drive home the theme:

“There was a time When they used to say That behind every great man There had to be a great woman But in these times of change You know that it is no longer true So [,] we're coming out of the kitchen”

Like the other songs in my list, this one has a very upbeat tempo to match the lyrics. It is a very 80's song, but that is not a terrible thing! The arrangement is creative with that fun driving beat that brings out the amazing vocals of Eurythmics and Franklin. The music video also pokes fun of some of those old outdated ideas that once kept women back. Going back to the main theme, this song is about woman moving on to stand proud.

10. Karisome Otome - “Temporary Virgin” by Shiina Ringo

椎名林檎×斎藤ネコ「カリソメ乙女」の歌詞

Released: November 11, 2006

Songwriter(s):  Ringo Sheena, Soil & "Pimp" Sessions

Producer(s): Uni Inoue

I wanted to wrap this playlist with something a little different, but it keeps with the overall pop theme. I discovered this artist by happy accident while researching another topic. Shiina Ringo is an amazing vocal who has written most of her own songs. The fast tempo pairs nicely with Ringo’s voice. “Karisome Otome” is a song with an amazing mix of gernes. The tune starts of soft and sweet, much like Meredith Brooks’s “Bitch.” While the theme of her songs varies, I picked this one because it pokes a little fun at the role women take when it comes to flirting and such. Here is the English translation of the entire song:

I'm just like the women Who stand next to you and stare Sweet intoxication But I'm leaving this affair You lit up my daydreams Like so many other guys Don't you look so lonely There's no sorrow in goodbye

What women want are some simple pleasures To be special We don't need you forever But I fell for your trap Girls will fall like that I was floating on a breeze What you must be feeling It was too late yesterday Despite your deceiving It was me who had my way But women always attempt to tell lies And to disguise, conceal what we want So when I try to deceive won't you believe Or say that you forgive me

In my option the song pokes some light hearted fun at the stereotype that women need men in a long-term sense. There are serval versions of this song, even one in English. Yet, like many of the songs, I wanted to mix things up by adding an artist that might be new to some of my readers.

Thanks for reading my list! Please check out the playlist, on YouTube. Drop me a line if you know any other great songs! I am open and love listening to different genres of music.

Sources:

http://albumlinernotes.com/Liner_Note_Samples.html

https://parade.com/961387/jessicasager/girl-power-songs/

https://www.songfacts.com/facts/aretha-franklin/respect

https://popculture.com/music/news/aretha-franklin-respect-hidden-history-makes-it-more-powerful/

https://kellyclarkson.fandom.com/wiki/Miss_Independent

https://www.songfacts.com/facts/kelly-clarkson/miss-independent

https://genius.com/Destinys-child-independent-women-part-1-lyrics

https://genius.com/Salt-n-pepa-none-of-your-business-lyrics

https://genius.com/Lily-allen-hard-out-here-lyrics

https://genius.com/Meredith-brooks-bitch-lyrics

https://genius.com/Missy-elliott-we-run-this-lyrics

https://genius.com/Whitney-houston-im-every-woman-lyrics

https://genius.com/Saygrace-you-dont-own-me-lyrics

https://genius.com/Eurythmics-sisters-are-doin-it-for-themselves-lyrics

https://genius.com/Sheena-ringo-saito-neko-karisome-otome-temporary-virgin-lyrics

[harrelltut]

卍 since I BEE MICHAEL [IBM] HARRELL from Tulsa Oklahoma’s [OK] Historically Black Wall Street WEALTH District of Greenwood… I’mma Ancestrally INHERIT [A.I.] My HIGHLY AFFLUENT [HA = HARRELL] FAMILY’S GLOBAL WEALTH that I PRIVATELY [I/P] Manage @ QUANTUM HARRELL TECH® LLC in California [CA] as I Monetarily INCREASE [MI = MICHAEL] My HIGHLY Classified Net Worth in 2020 from My HIGHLY ADVANCED [HA = HARRELL] Ancestral Telecommunications & Technologies [AT&T] I PATENTED [I/P] in the 1800s 卍

[sage-nebula]

If you don't mind me asking, do you you usually do research when writing fanfiction for something and how much do you usually do?

I’m sorry it has taken me so long to answer this! I’ve been swept up in other things.

The amount of research I do depends on a number of factors: The fandom I’m writing for, the exact piece of fanfiction I’m writing, et cetera.

For instance, when it comes to my Yu-Gi-Oh! fics, I put a ridiculous amount of research into them. Not only do I want to make sure that most of what I write is time period appropriate (YGO takes place in the mid-to-late ‘90s, so although their technology is far advanced for that time period in many different areas due to Takahashi’s laziness plot necessity, I like to tie my stories to the time period to make them feel realistic when possible), but I also want to make sure that what I’m writing is accurate to the setting, which is Japan. I’m American, and as an American who was born and raised here, I tend to think of things through an American lens first. But when I’m writing Japanese characters who live in Japan, their experiences are not going to be the same as mine. Their school system is different, their holidays are different, their criminal justice system is different. To write all of that from an American perspective … well, maybe many American readers wouldn’t bat an eye, but it wouldn’t be very true to the characters.

So when I write my YGO fics, I tend to put quite a bit of research into them. Whispers in the Dark, which I consider to be my magnum opus, had a ridiculous amount of research put into it. I usually put these details in the notes at the start of each chapter, but I not only did things like look up currency conversion rates for the exact month and year that the story was taking place in (because of course I think of prices in USD first, but they use JPY, so I need to reflect that), or listen to a lot of Japanese rock bands that were active and somewhat popular in the late ‘90s (and particularly 1996) to figure out which one Jounouchi would like enough to wear a band t-shirt of in chapter fourteen (Siam Shade is a real life band that was active in that time period whose discography I’m 100% confident he would love, so yes, that logo on his t-shirt was mentioned for a reason), but I also spent weeks researching the Japanese criminal justice system (and particularly arrest and interrogation procedures in Japan) to make sure that I portrayed it as accurately as possible when Jounouchi was arrested and interrogated in chapter thirteen. I not only read through academic journals and articles on the subject, but I also read informally published articles written by lawyers and attorneys, as well as first-person accounts from people who had been arrested in Japan and went through the interrogation process themselves (multiple first-person accounts, at that). That’s not to say that my depiction was still 100% accurate, because again, I’ve never been arrested in Japan myself (and hopefully that doesn’t happen; since my good friend Yume is the one who is providing the opportunity for me to go to Japan myself in August, I’m counting on her to keep me from doing anything that would get me arrested while I’m there). But I read literally every piece of credible information I could find to portray the experience as realistically as possible. Of course it’s fiction (and fanfiction at that) so it doesn’t have to be completely cut and dry accurate, but I wanted it to be as real as possible, while still being interesting.

So when it comes to my YGO fics, I put in a lot of research, because there is a lot about Japanese culture and life in Japan that I just don’t know off-hand, and since YGO takes place in real life Japan (albeit back in the late ‘90s, and with a modern fantasy twist), I want to make sure I put in due diligence to make it as accurate as possible.

With that said, that’s YGO. Pokémon is a little different. Pokémon is a modern fantasy series as well, but it places much heavier emphasis on the fantasy aspect than YGO does. YGO is a modern fantasy in the sense that it takes place in our world with a dash of magic. Pokémon is a modern fantasy in the sense that it has a lot of modernized (and in some cases futuristic!) technology, but it takes place in a world separate from our own. There is some overlap, there are a lot of similarities; the primary regions are all based on real life places (four of them on Japan, two of them on American states, and one of them on France), they do have real life animals in addition to pokémon, some of the technology is the same, and so on and so forth. But nonetheless, the regions are still very clearly meant to be their own countries. Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh are all very clearly based on Japan, but they’re not Japan. They’re Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh. They’re all independent regions, with their own governments, their own cultures, their own laws, rather than being united under one federal government. Unova is based on New York, but it’s not New York, just as Alola is based on Hawaii, but it’s not Hawaii, and so on and so forth. Yes, of course the inspiration is there, we can pull things from these real life areas and incorporate them into the cultures, but at the end of the day, nothing that happens in the Pokémon world would happen in these real life places, and the cultures themselves are markedly different in many ways (not the least of which being that there seems to be one common language across all of the regions, regardless of the fact that our real life languages do exist there as well—and there really has to be, because otherwise there’s no way an eleven-year-old child could move from Kanto to Alola and not encounter a single language barrier. A lingua franca has to exist, and that’s just not something we have in real life—or at least, not to the extent they do).

I say all of this because this means that I have to put in considerably less research when writing my Pokémon fics. There’s no set year in which the Pokémon stories take place, because time barely seems to work in that universe (particularly with regards to the anime). It’s an entirely separate world from ours, so even if I tried to research the real world to incorporate things into my fics, there’s not a whole lot of research I can do because that’s a fictional universe. Instead of reading up on a criminal justice system, I instead get to look at what little information we’re provided in canon, and then create based on that. My YGO fics require a lot of research; my Pokémon fics require a lot of creation. I can still research some things (To Devour the Sun will require more research into alchemy, although the alchemy I’m featuring in that story is more along the lines of magical alchemy, a la Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, so even then the research is more into the philosophical side of alchemy rather than the hard scientific side), and of course it’s always neat to incorporate some real world details in there, but a fantasy world means that you have a lot more freedom to just create. Pokémon fics don’t require as much research as YGO ones do.

And you can get the idea from there. To be fair, even with my YGO fics sometimes I can just have fun. If I’m just writing a small, fluffy scene between Yuugi and Jounouchi, that’s not going to require research. But part of the reason why Legacy has been on such a hold is because I need to do a lot of research into geography in order to place the temples in our real world, and I have a real block on that, which is making things hard. I’ll figure it out, but … yeah, it’ll take a lot of time. Sometimes, research can really hold things up.

But that said, I do think it’s important. Particularly if you ever want to write original fiction, you need to know what you’re talking about. Even if you’re writing fiction, if you reference something in the real world (like, say, CPR), you need to show a base knowledge of how that works, or else your readers—at least, those who know better—will notice, and it’ll pull them out of the story. You never want to be known as the person who takes “artistic license” with everything. Rather, I’d much rather take pride in having “Shown Their Work” on my future TV Tropes page once I’m a published author of original fiction. That’s the dream. Research may be hard, but depending on what you write, I find it to be very, very important.

At least, that’s my take on it.

[fapangel]

Since you're the only anti-Assad guy I seem to be following, what exactly is the case for removing him? I've looked at the issue multiple times and I can't seem to find any sort of benefit to removing Assad that would outweigh the significant cost of doing so, with the added downside that it only shores up more power for Saudi Arabia. I really don't see what we stand to gain.

Well, lemme spell it out: Assad is playing for the other team - to wit, Iran has troops in the country backing up Assad right now, and we all know about Russia’s direct support and troops in-country, as well. This whole Qatar conflict? Kicked off days after Trump told the Saudis to stop fucking about and start self-policing. The Qataris are tight with the Iranians who are tight with the Russians. See how this works? Syria has simply become the latest battleground in a very long, very old proxy war between the United States and Russia for global influence. 

Now whether or not you believe the claims of the Russians that they’re just “defending themselves” and that tiny Baltic states would be existential threats to a nation with ten times their population, land mass and budget if they join NATO is up to you, but I think we can both agree that Putin has decisively committed Russia to a new conflict with the West. We are in a new Cold War as we speak, and as a new generation is learning, the Cold War was anything but - it was simply fought by proxy. 

Egypt is a good example, here. Mubarak was a bastard, and the military junta he represented are still oppressive bastards, who’ve successfully stifled any hope of free democracy in Egypt from the Arab Spring. But they’re our oppressive bastards. And that’s pretty much as good as you can hope for in the Middle East... that is, unless you’re willing to commit your nation to a very expensive, bloody ten year war to invade one of those states and shield and nurture a nascent democratic government against a decade of upheaval, war, and attempts to kill it until it can stand on its own. *Cough cough.* And that’s the price you have to pay. That is, by Donald Rumsfeld’s own admission, why Bush Sr. didn’t remove Saddam - it would’ve created a power vacuum which would’ve been filled by a new SOB. It’s the clearest example of “the devil you know versus the devil you don’t” you could ask for. And that’s from the guy who’d preside over the invasion of Iraq under Bush Jr! 

If it wasn’t for ISIS and the Russians/Iranians, we’d be doing right now what we’ve done for decades - not give a shit about Syria. ISIS is the real problem. I’ve heard some people opining that ISIS would never have been a problem if not for “our meddling.” Those people are fucking retarded. The Arab Spring, in case they missed it, was (and is) a big fucking thing - decades upon decades of oppression, suffering and rage finally boiled over, and it hit the Middle East like a goddamn brick. If you really think that half-assed “bombing campaign” of Obama’s and Hillary’s was the deciding factor in Gaddafi finally leaving Libya by riding a bullet to hell, you’re delusional. Fuck, even Saddam was almost ousted by the Kurds after the Gulf War - a short bombing campaign could’ve taken out Saddam and replaced him with allies of ours (allies during the Gulf War,) and saved us all the later bloodshed, but apparently Bush Sr. didn’t want to take that big roll of the dice. Hindsight, 20/20, etc. But don’t think that they only managed it because we’d trashed their military: the Kurds have been rebelling since the 30s, and they’ve taken their chances at other times Iraq was vulnerable, like during the Iran-Iraq war. Note that the Iraqi regime was desperate enough against this uprising to employ chemical weapons against what was nominally their own people. And remember that we’re not the only ones that “meddle” in other nations - the Turks, who fucking hate the Kurds, were balls-deep in that shit as well to restrain and hamper Kurdish efforts to form an independent state. 

Long story short, there’s no guarantee that ISIS wouldn’t have toppled many if not most of these states all on their own, aided by the internal fragility of many of these regimes and the many other groups seeking to topple them - including all the moderate, anti-Islamist rebels. Yes, they exist. The only people who deny it are the fucking Russians who’re making a point of bombing them. The best proof of this is Syria itself - a nation with one of the largest and best-equipped armies in the Middle East (short of Egypt) has been fighting a civil war for five years and is still struggling - and to be blunt, if the Russians and Iranians hadn’t came to their aid in 2015, Assad would be swinging from a rope right now. And even with their support - well, just look at the fucking livemap. They’ve got American-backed Kurds kicking the shit out of ISIS in most of the important areas to the north, ISIS has lost almost all of its major support bases in Iraq, like Mosul, and they still are struggling to make headway. (The US is now actively backing the moderate rebels, true, but considering that ISIS was always more competent and dangerous than most of the moderates, the fact that the moderates are fighting ISIS too, and that the most potent local anti-ISIS forces, the US-baked YPG Kurds, didn’t get involved in force until recently, with American backing, I’d say that’s a wash at best.) You can scroll back through the months (and years) on that map - do so, and note how much the colors on the map change, and for whom. Northern Homs is a pocket of resistance that seemingly refuses to die, and those major urban areas in the North are decisively stubborn - the government managed to take Aleppo (with intensive Russian airstrike support) but it cost them dearly and they’re still struggling to expand those gains. And apparently, the Russians are maintaining order in Aleppo with their own military police, so the Syrian government can spare forces for offensives. 

If anyone tells you that the Syrians are on the “verge of winning,” they’re worse than stupid - they’re either a fucking Russian shill, or they’re a mistake of evolution. There was - and is - every reason to fear that Assad might eventually lose, Russian/Iranian support be damned. The Russians remember very, very well how thoroughly they were fucked in Afghanistan. I chatted with a Russian man who fought in Afghanistan one night (in a highsec corp I was awoxing at the time, incidentally,) and the stories he told were fucking hair-raising - about how when the AK-74s ran out, they issued AK-47s, and when those ran out, they issued SKSs and when those ran out they started handing out fucking Nagants. Trust me, the Russians have no fucking interest in a quagmire - they’re constantly watching their Return on Investment, and nothing beats an actual war for polishing up your personnel, practical experience and organizational structures, especially when you’re trying to recover from two decades of under-investment and decay. Just look at how fucking hard ISIS is still fighting, and how bloody the advances are even for the YPG backed by US/coalition airpower - with the Kurds, the Russians (nominally,) the Syrians, the moderates and the Americans all allied against them, and after most of their infrastructure has been blown, blasted or bayoneted out from under them. 

What am I getting at, here? Simple - America’s not the only one in the world that can effect a regime change. Sometimes you don’t get to choose whether or not to knock someone out of the game - because plenty of other forces are willing to do it for you. In that case your best bet is to hope to have enough influence to see that the next group in power is the least terrible one you can manage - because if you don’t, the Russians sure as fucking hell will. 

Of course, that’s all assuming that we want to remove Assad. Frankly, I believe the Trump administration - and the defense department - when they say they don’t want to remove Assad. I am anti-Assad, and so is Trump, and the Defense Department, and anyone else who doesn’t like mass-murdering cunts. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t serve our purposes better alive than dead, however, because it’s likely that Assad will end up permanently ruling a lot less of Syria than he used to. 

To wit, even after Iranian and Russian support flowed in to prop up the regime, Syria was - and still is, outside of US-backed offensives - a bloody stalemate. Gaining ground in one area meant losing it in another. For a long time now, neither “side” in this conflict (regime alliance versus everyone fucking else) have had the power to really overwhelm and defeat the other conclusively. The relatively static frontlines in many places really illustrate that. Many places that changed hands have done so multiple times and likely will again. Neither Russia nor Iran wish (or can afford) the resource investment to change that, and the Turks only care because REEE KURDS. There’s an excellent chance that Syria might end up as East Syria and West Syria, with the modern-day frontlines defining much of the eventual states they will become, much like North and South Korea.  (Which was another war were Russia and America were dicking with each other by proxy.) What do you think the Kurdish interest in taking ground in northern Syria is? Why do you think the Turks (who’ve been fighting Kurdish rebels in their own country for decades,) are screeching so hard about Kurds taking vast swathes of territory just south of their border? The Kurds finally have what they’ve always wanted, in Northern Iraq - an ethnic Kurdish state - but there’s Kurds in Syria, Turkey and even Iran. And for obvious reasons (say, many decades of murder, oppression, marginalization, having their people gassed, etc.,) they’re quite eager to take as much ground as they can to form a contiguous Kurdish state. 

So why the hell would we eliminate or depose Assad - and have to jump through the many, many hoops that follow as we try to influence, second-guess and react to whatever successor state we get out of the throw (because even loaded dice can come up snake eyes,) when we can neuter Assad, and leave him mostly powerless to fuck with us, or give the Russians more influence in the region? Someone fighting all-out just to hang on to half of what he used to have is someone too busy to fuck with you and yours much, you know? 

And we’re accomplishing this all for far less investment in troops, weapons, aircraft, etc. as we used in Iraq and Afghanistan when we were doing most or all the fighting with our own soldiers, too. We’re playing the same ROI game that Russia is, and we’re doing pretty well. 

So, yeah. The “case for removing Assad” is that he’s hostile to us, our allies, and our interests, he’s a tool and boon to our dedicated global rivals and enemies the Russians, he’s in bed with other problematic and constant threats like Iran, and last, but not least, he’s a mass-murdering cunt who’s on the ropes and is fighting for the existential survival of his state and himself, which is literally what WMD exists to guarantee. But like most hostile mass-murdering cunts who are hostile to us and are in bed with our enemies, that just means we should remove him IF, and ONLY IF, a good opportunity presents itself. Usually the math is against it - it’s been against taking out the Norks for five goddamn decades, and it took the Norks developing the bomb - and a delivery system for the bomb - and vast upheavals in the Cold War geopolitical order - to even begin to nudge that needle. And considering that we’ve got many better options to neutralize the threat Assad poses - and that they’re going well - its quite unlikely that we’re going to move against Assad himself. Why would we take the Syrian regime out of the fight when that’d just free up more ISIS fighters to inhibit our own forces and goals, which apparently include helping the YPG to grab vast swathes of territory? 

tl;dr That’s what ACTUAL realpolitik considerations look like. Half the fuckwits on /pol/ make vague noise about unpragmatic regime change before sucking Assad off like some kind of fucking hero. 

When someone’s sucking a dictator’s cock, be wary about how they characterize the position of their detractors. 

[harrelltut]

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