#one of them is possibly a terrorist depending on who you ask

[leonstamatis]

i think people who want a diverse group of women with a wide range of moral standings and a tendency to behave in human and often less than perfect ways should listen to the hit audio drama greater boston.

[matan4il]

Every once in a while, the magnitude of the Hamas massacre hits me all over again.

I'm not sure most people get it even now.

In absolute numbers, it is one of the three deadliest terrorist attacks in human history (second or third worst, depends on which estimates you trust for the Camp Speicher massacre), but if we take it in relation to the size of the population in the attacked country (which we should, because terrorism by its very nation seeks to victimizes through psychological trauma the entire target population, and not just those who were physically affected during the attack), then what Hamas did IS the single deadliest terrorist attack in the entirety of human history.

But it's even more than that.

Never, in any other attack, have the terrorists taken over as much land as Hamas did on Oct 7. ENTIRE TOWNS were under complete control of the terrorists, some for SEVERAL DAYS (I specifically remember watching a report on one town, where combat with the terrorists was still taking place on Oct 11, meaning on day 5 of this terrorist invasion into Israel). ENTIRE TOWNS WERE OCCUPIED. BY TERRORISTS. There's not a single Hollywood action movie dealing with such a scenario, because NOTHING OF THIS SCALE HAS EVER HAPPENED BEFORE. Imagine waking up and hearing in real time that the northern half of the American states Washington, Idaho and Montana has been taken by terrorists, who are driving through the streets freely, as they murder, pillage, rape, torture, maim, burn and kidnap people, and almost no one's there to stop them.

And then imagine the world expecting the US government to just... let the terrorists retreat to the other side of an international border in the north, after having murdered over 40,400 American, most of which are civilians, almost 183,000 more injured, and while taking with them across the border over 8,450 American hostages, to God knows what awful fate, for how long, or if they will even ever come back alive. Entire communities and regions would be devastated, without knowing if they'd be able to rebuild. The total would be more than 230,000 Americans directly impacted (I've adapted the real numbers from Oct 7 to the size of the American population... Remember the horrendous 9/11 attack, which saw 2,977 victims killed and a few thousands more injured, and think of what would be the emotional punch of over 230,000 direct victims).

Imagine expecting the US to let that go, and allow those terrorists to continue existing and ruling the land on its northern border. Imagine expecting the US to do so while this terrorist organization openly declares that it will repeat this large scale massacre whenever possible, until the entire country is destroyed.

And please don't come at me with "Fine, Israel can react, but not like this." Unless you have the military expertise to explain exactly how Israel can protect its people from this attack ever being repeated, and to free all our hostages, without civilian casualties (despite Hamas intentionally using them as human shields, and even directly causing Gazan deaths), unless you can translate the vague "not like this" into something practical, some actual guidelines on how this urban war could have been fought differently, even though there's no historical precedent to support that this is possible, "not like this" is just wishful thinking at the expense of the safety and right to live of Israelis.

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

[elexaria]

living with ghoap was nice. two big burly fellas to keep you company, to reach the top shelves in the kitchen for you, to absolutely plough you into the mattress when you couldnt itch your own scratch for once. they were good lads.

but there were countless times where they’d be away for work, so you knew you couldnt be fully dependent on them. they knew that too, so they weren’t exactly going to object to you having fun without them. so long as you were happy and safe, they were content.

but fuck, the men out there are absolutely horrible to deal with. sleazy, there’s just… no ability to have any kind of banter with these things that think only with their cocks.

until you meet kilgöre alexander.

he’s gigantic, his shoulders probably share the same width as mount everest’s base. easily, kilgöre is the tallest man you’ve ever been with. he dwarfs simon in size, which is very telling in itself.

it’s hard to pry away at who kilgöre is as a person. he’s austrian, likes keeping himself to himself. absolutely refuses to tell you what he does for a living, because it’s on a need to know basis. “sounds like something a terrorist would say.” you jokingly coo one night at dinner, smirking as he rolls his foggy blue eyes at your comment. “har har, very funny.” he mockingly says, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly.

he’s one of the best things that’s happened to you in a while. he doesn’t know about the particular living arrangement you share with simon and johnny— like he says, it’s on a need to know basis. plus, you haven’t boned either of them since you met this fella. ghoap know what’s up, but they’re not bothered by it. they’re just glad to see you doing well for yourself. “ye have a glow about ye, love.” johnny coos in your ear one day, smirking as he watches you fluster and flounder around the kitchen, trying to make excuses. “it’s the vitamins i’m taking” this and “i’ve quit dairy” that. he knows the truth, simon know its too.

but there’s one thing that makes the attachment to this man absolutely unbearable.

he disappears from time to time.

some days it’s only a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks at a push. absolutely no contact.

he swears it’s to do with his line of work, that one day he’ll be able to tell you everything. but for now, he asks just for one thing.

“just… wait for me.”

it’s been almost a month with no contact from kilgöre, and it feels like every morning with no text, no nothing, you have a growing pit inside of you that can’t stop gnawing at you, eating you up whole. what the fuck? what could he possibly do for a career that makes it so he goes days without checking his phone? it makes you feel sick to your stomach. what if he’s in a gang or something?

besides, how the fuck can you keep on waiting for someone who you don’t even know is even alive? for all you know, this behemoth of a man has been hog tied and dumped at the bottom of a lake with cinder blocks strapped to his feet. how are you supposed to wait for someone who shows no signs of leaving or coming back?

“that light in yer eyes has dulled.” johnny remarks one evening, a sad smile on his lips. your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion. “huh? oh, yeah. uh… it’s the gluten intolerance i reckon.” you murmur to yourself, flashing a weak smile to consolidate his inquisitive gaze. “i’m fine, though.”

simon huffs as he leers next to you, skilfully flaying pieces of fish with a pensive look. both you and johnny glance at him, which only makes him grunt in response. you furrow your eyebrows at him, urging him to elaborate on what the pressing issue is.

“we reckon shit’s hit the fan with that new bloke of yours.” simon bluntly replies as he wipes off the chopping board with a damp cloth, hands gently scooping up guts, scales and delicate fish bones to dispose of. you scoff, eyes never leaving the cuts of fish meat that rest on a plate, waiting to be delicately battered and fried up.

“whatev—“

“and i know you, you’ll try and refute the truth that i know what’s going on. that we know what’s going on. so, none of this nonsense, alright? what’s up?”

johnny and simon silently watch you, their simultaneous waiting for any reaction from you making your skin crawl. at first, you scowl and huff. shifting your weight from foot to foot as you become defensive. simon cuts you off again, “none of that bollocks. tell the truth.”

you give in. on bated breath, you explain the whole situation. how kilgöre is the kind of man you had never expected to fall for, how he had managed to steal your attention even while being so elusive and secretive. how you desperately want him to come back to you, like he said he would.

johnny frowns, and simon nods in your direction, wiping his blood stained hands with the damp cloth. “fishy hands.” he murmurs, wiggling his fingers to prove he can’t comfort you with a hug. johnny nods, swiftly making his way around the kitchen island to come give you a warm hug. it’s a solid hug, one you’d never object to having. johnny’s large hands rub circles to your back, his bearded chin resting against your shoulder as he sways gently.

simon stands behind johnny, holding eye contact with you as he continued to carefully clean his hands. he raises his eyebrows in thought, before glancing down at his fingernails as he begins to meticulously clean underneath them to rid his skin of all things fish.

“this… kilgöre bloke. i reckon if he’s the one, he’s worth waitin’ for. but don’t think for a second he should get away with leavin’ you this long without so much as a text, yeah? rip ‘im a new one when he comes back.” he advises, glancing back up at you with a slight smirk when he hears you chuckle, your laugh strained with emotion.

he steps closer, carefully tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze better. he gently wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “if he’s the man you think he is, he’ll explain everything if you ask him to. and if he does? great. if he doesn’t?” you wince at the idea, frowning.

he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your brow.

“then he’s a bloody eejit, as our johnny boy would say.”

[replaycamera2]

What Your Fave Redacted Character Says About You

Davey - You value a lot of things in a man: the most important being his ability to snap you in half.

Asher - You are the annoying younger sibling who is completely aware of exactly how much they can get away with via years of experience.

Milo - When people ask you what your hobbies are you say “reading” but the silent part of that answer is “fanfiction”

Vincent - I could go on for hours about all the parasocial relationships you’ve had in your life.

Sam - You’re rapidly running out of things other than yourself to blame for your problems, and honestly, it’s just a cry for help at this point.

Lasko - The people in your life have learned not to use the turn of phrase, “What’s the worst that could happen?” Because you will immediately launch into a 20 minute PowerPoint presentation with cited sources on exactly everything that could possibly go wrong.

Damien - Your parents were PTA terrorists. They were planning your bid for student council president while you were still in the womb.

Hux - For the people who think other people are always flirting with them or buttering them up, but they’re honestly just being nice and you never really learned how appropriately reciprocate that because life has taught you that everyone is always after something.

Gavin - God gave you depression and anxiety because if he didn’t, you’d be competing for his job

Avior - You’re either a burned out “gifted kid” or you only just got diagnosed with ADHD in your mid 20s. No in between.

Vega - Dear god do you love to be stepped on

Blake - You can not fix him. YOU CAN NOT FIX HIM.

Elliott - The ultimate fantasy of every demi-sexual out there.

Aaron - Depends: if you’re a straight woman, this is just everyone’s daddy fantasy. Otherwise, you’re a white gay guy. Only they would see a 1-to-1 recreation of their bully and go, “That is my husband.”

Ivan - I’m not saying you’re scary when you’re mad, I’m just saying the Venn diagram of people who have crossed you and the people you never hear from again is a circle

James - Admit it, you find degradation just a little bit hot. Just give in and go for it, it’ll be cathartic, trust me.

Anton - Literally that meme of “Thank you for changing my life.” “I’m literally a white man from Arizona mumbling and mouth-breathing into a mic.”

Geordi - “Patience of a saint” and “persistence of a rock” do not even begin to describe you. We have had nothing but radio silence from this man for 7 months.

Regulus - You just want someone to end your existence without actually killing you and honestly, valid take.

Guy - Your insecurities might scream at every person you meet, but not if you scream louder

Ollie - Your life moves from one disaster to the next and you are desperate for a shred of stability, which is probably why you’re listening to boyfriend role-play.

Morgan - There are two kinds of people in this fandom: Those who know what “19 months” means, and those who don’t.

[jamneuromain]

Hello,

Congrates again Sweetie, you really deserves it ❤️

I don't know how many asks we can send and I had so many ideas of combinations

I am sending two of them depending on what's inspiring you. If both of them inspire you, it's even better. 🤭

🥳😶❤️ Steve Rogers

👇🕯😈 Jake Jensen

Good luck 😘

Okay this is definitely a brain teaser

but still, I'm going to go with 🥳😶❤️ Steve Rogers, because this reminded me of an idea I once had...

Disguise

Captain America!Steve Rogers x You

Warning: A little cursing but that's all.

Summary: It's your first mission, and Captain America has told you to disguise yourself. You've followed that order to a "T".

A/N: Hiya! Sorry it took so long to get it out :( I have to say, originally I wanted to write a short drabble where Steve was teaching her a lesson, but then I wondered, why is she on this mission in the first place? and I can't control this drabble which turned into a ~2k one-shot....

"... and the last item on our agenda," Maria took a brief stop from her briefing and looked around the room like a hawk, scanning everyone with her sharp eyes until they landed on the selected few, "congratulations on our fellow analysts who have applied for the field agent assistant position and passed the final test."

With a few claps from the fellow analysts, she paused again, waiting until the claps died down before quickly gathering her thoughts and assigned a few missions to three other analyst/field agent assistant, "And Y/N, I will brief you for your next mission, please stay for a few more minutes after this meeting. The rest of you, keep up the good work. You are dismissed."

It had been an eventful six months with all of your trainings - basically starting up from the ground up, no previous experience being an agent whatsoever - but you made it till the end, even though barely passing all the bars that are required for a field agent assistant. You felt very lucky as field agent assistant only requires 60% of what full-time agents can achieve, and watching your once muscle-lacking arms and legs, now turned out to be somewhat of an amateur wrestler, half of a professional boxer, and a sprinkle of assassin (thanks to Clint for his dart training).

You felt good about yourself. Truly, good.

Maria handed you a slim brown folder with a few pages in it. Opening it with sheer curiosity, you hear Maria picking out a few important points to brief: "There is rumored to be a highly dangerous neurotoxin in the black-market with more than a dozen buyers interested. This mission would be an undercover job in Venice, where the said toxin would be sold to the highest bidder."

The first page had a few sentences of what the said toxin could do. It evaporates soon but kills just as quickly. Victim's skin turned purple in contact with this chemical, looking as if they had suffocated to death. Word on the street? It was responsible for the terrorist attack in Paris last month.

"You would be posing as Mrs. Anna Dashevsky, wife of Mr. Vlad Dashevsky, the notorious couple of wreaking havoc: the train accident in Germany, the bombing in L.A., and a few other dozen of suspected murders and attacks. We have apprehended them both from their Belarus safe house twenty-four hours ago, safe to say that your cover would not be blown since the auction is fully anonymous." Maria had her skeptical look on you, her cold voice brought chills to your spine, "Unless of course, you got made."

"No, I won't, Ma'am." You replied on instinct, knowing fully well that the danger of arms dealers and terrorists gathering in such an auction could possibly be the end of your career - and your life as well, which was why you took a glance at the page of Mr. and Mrs. Dashevsky, making a mental note of the couple's information.

"Good. I shall hope not." Maria gestured you to turn the file to the next page, "You would be working with an Avenger for this mission. Your task is to provide tactical analytic support on the ground. Locate the position of the toxin, get it out, our team would be picking you up two miles south of the venue -" She pointed to a red cross marked on the map, "which is this bridge. If you missed the rendezvous, retreat to the safehouse." Her fingers tapped the red circle on the corner of the map, "Proceed as Protocol 4-12 Agent in Distress."

You scanned over the map to remember the extraction routes, noticing that these are the only pages in the thin folder, "There's no teammate information - am I going in there as Anna alone, or ...?"

Maria shook her head lightly, "You would be greeted by your teammate once you land in Venice, and your teammate would be posing as Vlad, your husband - I noticed you've got a B+ in Russian?" Seeing that you've nodded in confidence, Maria continued, "Good. Practice your Russian, might be handy. Your flight takes off at Runway Charlie in thirty minutes, I'd suggest you head off to the equipment room right now for the gadgets."

"Yes, Ma'am." You dared not linger a second more and headed straight to the equipment room.

First mission on the ground. You could not be more excited.

Turned out, you could. When the famous Captain America greeted you once your plane had landed on a small airstrip in the outskirt of Padova. Where he was leaning by a smooth silver sedan with a fake nose and a fake moustache.

You almost did not recognise him until he spoke.

"Steve." He introduced himself briefly, extending his hand for you to shake. Didn't take much to know the only one named "Steve" existing in the Avengers team was Steve Frigging Rogers, Captain America himself, the golden boy of the States, and the man with the plan.

"Hi! I'm Anna." You put down your briefcase of trinkery, took his hand and shook with a firmer grip than you had imagined. "Well, my name isn't Anna," You smiled apologetically, "It's ..."

"I know, Y/N." He chuckled, opening the car door for you, gesturing for you to sit, "I've got the files Maria sent. We'll talk on the way."

Yeesh, such gentleman. You bit back the grin and sat in the passenger's seat, while he put the case into the backseat.

The drive from Padova to Venice took about forty minutes, during which he briefed you the latter half of the information required. You switched to one of those little boats - which Italian name you still couldn't pronounce - on entering Venice, by that time you were picking up something casual to talk about, just in case the toxin seller had eyes and ears around the potential buyers.

"First time leaving the office, huh?" He teased you lightly, rubbing small circles around your shoulder blade, pretending to be intimate as he spoke softly.

"Yeah." You murmured, clasping and un-clasping your hand due to obvious nervousness, "It's the first time, well ... ever."

"It's okay." Steve smiled warming, practically glowing kindness when he offered to soothe your nerves, "I'd say you would forget about it ..." He shrugged, "But then I would be lying. Truth is, it's always frightening for the first time, but you will be fine." Steve beamed at you, scratching his fake nose, which you thought must be some kind of silicone that created authentic skin-like appearance, "Just give it time."

Your destination was the safehouse marked on the map. After Steve tipped the boat guy generously, he made sure no one was lurking before tugging a key out of his pocket and opened the door.

Maybe it was your expression that betrayed you, because Steve read something from your looks and grinned, "You want to ask me something? Go ahead."

You're that obvious? But you decided it was best to follow orders.

"This safe house doesn't look so ... safe." You commented, "How are we supposed to defend ourselves, if it comes to ... you know," you chuckled drily, "shooting and stuff?"

Steve seemed stunned for a moment, before really taking a good look at the plain wooden floor and the almost ancient decor in the kitchen, the rusty oven, the missing cabinet door, the whole lot suggesting this place hadn't been set foot in years.

"What, this?" His brows furrowed into a knot, as if seeing completely different things.

You nervously waited for his reply.

"Oh..." Realization hit him as he slapped himself on the forehead, pressing a button below the kitchen table, "You mean ... this."

The noise of machine operating out of nowhere startled you, almost immediately sent you into a defensive position. But as the old crappy oven flipped to the other side and showed an array of guns, bullets, knives, and tasers, the dusty kitchen table pulled the planks to its side and revealed a huge tactical screen, and the fireplace tugged a secret passageway open for an escape route, your jaw fell on the floor.

"I might have told Tony about the whole disguise idea for the safe houses and uh," Steve chuckled, "He and Bruce took it way too seriously. Probably got a bit carried away too."

"One little problem, though," You raised your index finger and swiped a line along the greasy stove, making a face, "I don't think there's anything we can find here to eat ...?"

"Don't worry about that." Steve waved his hand dismissively, "We won't be here more than an hour before heading to the auction place. There's a full wardrobe and weaponry upstairs, first door on the right - but I'm sure you have already got plenty in your case - But by all means, take half an hour to adjust, rest, grab what you need, and I want us out of here by an hour. That sounds good?"

"Good. Okay. Thumbs up." You confirmed and headed upstairs with your suitcase, only to close the bedroom door and squeal into your palms.

O.M.FUCKING.GEE!

Captain America. In the living flesh!

On your first-ever mission!

Three soft knocks came through the thin wooden door.

"You alright in there?"

"I'm okay Cap - I mean, Vlad!" You called out, realizing as soon as you spoke that your voice was hoarse than usual.

"Careful there. The wardrobe door is on the left-hand side. Give me a shout if you need anything."

After that, small trotting noises, probably from the footsteps of Steve Rogers going downstairs.

Left-hand side? You eyed the dusty place curiously, poking and prodding the moldy wallpaper. You didn't see any wardrobe, other than -

Your nail bore contact with a piece of metal, from which a grey-ish camera leapt out of the wall, and nearly hit your hand.

It scanned your face, before emitting that rumbling Transformer noise again, revealing a wall full of weapons, money, and of course, clothes and wigs for disguises.

You gasped at the brand-new Magnums on the wall. You took your word back. This was the safest house in the fucking galaxy.

"Ta-da-" You walked down the stairs, "What do you think, Ca - Vlad?"

Steve had his gaze pinned on you for a moment. His expression was close to blank, which was giving you a hard time figuring out what he was thinking.

"Am I overdoing it?" You clenched the collar of your coat nervously, "Anna - I mean, I came from a Slavic root, so this is ... alright? No?"

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the corner of his lips from the uncontrollable grin. "I would say, that this outfit is ... " He tried hard not to laugh, "It's good, great. Could use a few ... improvements, though."

You were wearing a thick fur coat and a fur hat, sunglasses too, dressing up like a polar bear rolled over in red and brown paint.

"Just because the Dashevsky's are from Slavic roots doesn't mean we have to dress up as good-ole fashioned Russian villains." Steve helped you take off the thick fur coat, smiling to himself, "We still have some time. Care to go through Disguise 101 with me?"

Find Jammy's 500 Follower's Celebration here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

[anonzentimes]

Hello :)

I was thinking about Hajime's reaction to Nagito's death in the game recently and suddenly a question occurred to me: What if the roles were reversed and it was Hajime who died? What do you think Nagito's reaction would be?

MOUTH GAPE OPEN HELLO THATS A COOL IDEA??

The roles reversing are really interesting because for that to work the entirety of chapter 5 would have to be completely different! I honestly have no clue how you'd be able to make the chapter remotely similar without changing it drastically. How could Junko even be defeated? Who would have killed Hajime instead? Does that mean Chiaki and Nagito would survive??

As for how Nagito would react, It really depends on if Nagito knows the information he gets in Chapter 4 yet. If he knows they're all terrorists I think he'd be sad and not understand why he cares so much about Hajime's death. Whether or not he knows the truth I think Nagito would continue on using his coping mechanism as his main reaction to his death.

The au of Chapter 5 I love to see is if Nagito never even made it far enough for his suicide plan to work! I've seen a lot of cool fanart of that possibility and it's definitely interesting to think about how that could have turned out.

Hajime and Nagito both feel betrayed by each other at different points but still ultimately care about each other. I think this is obvious when either of them feel betrayed, die, or are in danger, and I think this would remain obvious if the roles were reversed. Komahina honestly isn't doomed in a toxic way but more of a horrible circumstances way, they grow and learn to understand each other and due to circumstances they have breakup periods of time where they feel tricked.

Thank you for your ask Anon! got a little rambly with this one it was fun, hopefully I didn't get too side tracked when talking about komahina haha <3

[juana-the-iguana]

Navigating media during war

Here are some tips to navigate the conflict without a paid subscription. Disclaimer, I am based in the United States and this advice is for people in the US. These tips may apply for all wars, but I wrote this with the Israel-Hamas conflict in mind.

My qualifications: I am a reporter who has worked on both local, state, national and international stories. I have covered breaking news, and have done enterprising news and investigative journalism. I will graduate with a MA in Journalism in a month. 

Reasons to question my authority: I have less than five year of professional experience. I have never reported on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, or anywhere else in the Middle East. I speak neither modern Hebrew nor Arabic. 

Moving on:

The best tip I can give you is pick a few good news sources and wait two days after any given event or incident before claiming to understand what happened.

In the United States, our news industry is incentivized toward breaking news, which means that organizations sometimes air information without having time to thoroughly fact check it. This becomes especially evident in times of war, when it is hard to obtain information and even on-the-ground reporters don't have the full picture of what's happening.

You are not going to find a perfect news organization. They're all going to fuck up in some capacity. If you have a strong stance on this issue, you're going to be more sensitive to those mistakes and real or perceived biases. (And, for the record, it is possible for one organization to hold multiple biases depending on the time of day, presenter and facet of the war being discussed.) That's why it is genuinely important to consume multiple news sources.

So if you're wondering why I chose these sources it's because a) they're free, b) they issue corrections when they're wrong and c) they do not engage in disinformation.

In no particular order: BBC, Reuters, NBC, MSNBC, CNN, AP. You should not rely on only one of these. You should fact-check these against bias sources that don't outright lie. 

Now onto the sources you should avoid. Let's get into disinformation: What is it? 

Disinformation is the intentional spreading of false information. It's lying. Misinformation is inaccurate information that is spread around, but not done with malice.

All news organizations have misinformation at some point. You should NEVER trust a news organization that engages in disinformation, about anything, unless several years have passed, the people responsible for the disinformation have been thoroughly purged from the group and they cite every goddamn thing they said.

The two big organizations I recommend avoiding because they engage in disinformation are Fox News and Al Jazeera.

Fox News lied about the 2020 election in the United States and actively contributed to an attempted insurrection. Al Jazeera is an arm of the Qatari state and has lied repeatedly about, well, just about everything of interest to the Qatari government, but especially Israel. They have made several highly consequential lies in this ongoing conflict that have had tangible, catastrophic consequences on the entire globe. 

Advocacy groups are not news outlets.

Also, don't trust terrorist organizations. Yes, the UN, WHO, Amnesty International and pretty much every NGO under the sun and the vast majority of news organizations cite them, but that's not because they're reliable, it's because they're the only group releasing information from Gaza.

You shouldn't take the IDF at face value either, but if what the IDF is saying is verified by the US, EU and/or other reliable, third parties, then that information is probably true. 

No news source is perfect. That's just a fact. I cannot stress the importance of looking at multiple sources.

Here are some things to look out for when watching/reading the news.

- If a news source is attributing facts to two different sources, ask yourself, "why?" Information is hard to come by. Sometimes one source doesn't report everything you want to know. But sometimes you know your source is unreliable, you don't have any alternatives, so you want to distance yourself from that. What does this look like? 

You might see people cite two sources to report death counts in Gaza: the Palestinian Health Ministry, which is run by Hamas, and Save the Children which analyzes information about the number of children killed. Save the Children gets the estimated number of deaths from Hamas. 

- Does it make sense to have this information at this time? If there was an explosion and a government states that 500 people died in it, well, how much time did it take them to count those bodies? Does that sound feasible?

- When you're listening to eye-witness interviews, do their perspectives or narratives match up with the physical scenes you are seeing? They might not be lying, it could be a miscommunication, but for the context it is presented in, it might not be accurate.

Language to look out for:

Occupation, blockade, siege, war crimes, crimes against humanity, genocide, ethnic cleansing, legitimate military targets and apartheid are all distinct things. All of them, with the exception of apartheid, have specific legal definitions. If people are using these things interchangeably, maybe they're sharing opinions. That doesn't mean that what they're saying isn't valuable, but it does mean that you probably shouldn't cite them when debating international law.

Now let's elaborate on "occupation" for a second. Egypt occupied Gaza from 1949 to 1967. Then Israel occupied Gaza until 2005. In 2007 Israel started the blockade on Gaza and last month, after the 10/7 massacre, they started a siege. As noted above, these are distinct things.

If people are talking about occupation or settlements in the context of this conflict it means either one of four things:

- They are talking about the West Bank, which is under occupation and where settlements do exist

- They are talking about the history of Gaza pre 2005

- They do not know that Gaza isn't under occupation and that there are no longer settlements there (which means that they are not an informed source)

- Or they assume the entire Israeli state is occupying Palestine which, whether you like it or not, is not factually or correct

Just because something feels wrong doesn't mean it is illegal. Occupations, blockades, sieges, the use of white phosphorous and bombing areas where you know there are civilians are all legal in certain contexts. 

Legality might not matter to you personally, but when you're watching the news and trying to assess who is sharing facts and who is sharing opinions, you should keep this in mind.

Other notes:

- Rockets need fuel. Ventilation systems in tunnels need fuel. 

- Movies and tv shows are filmed in Gaza and the West Bank. If you see a photo of someone in a body bag texting or women laughing while painting a baby doll red, it might be a behind-the-scenes video from one of those things.

- There are a lot of AI generated pictures being used, especially in propaganda. Count fingers, arms, legs and look at backgrounds to see if what you are seeing makes sense. But for the love of god, if you don't like something, that doesn't mean it's AI.

- There are a lot of photos circulating from past wars. Be careful before you reblog. Reverse Google image search is your friend. 

- If you are not sure if something is real or not, wait a week. If the US, EU and dozens of journalists say it is true, believe it.

Finally, social media. When is it appropriate to use social media for news?

News aggregates are usually okay. I'm talking places like r/worldnews. They are pulling from other news organizations, so they can repeat those flaws, but they give you a mix of headlines from multiple sources. And they'll very often post large parts, if not the entirety, of articles from sources from the New York Times, Washington Post and the Wall Street Journal that have paywalls in the comments. But also beware the comments because they can be disgusting.

Social media is also very good for sharing the individual human experience. The issue with that is that you can't always vet the person on camera or being spoken about, so they could be lying, spreading misinformation and it isn't the whole picture. 

This needs to be said again and again: social media dehumanizes people. You know this, but you will fall victim to it anyway. Your algorithm will do its best to show you the best versions of the people and groups you like, and the worst versions of the people and groups you don't like to make you feel justified in adopting dehumanizing beliefs. 

For anyone interested, I'm going to update the list of news sources I think are trustworthy in the next few days. I've found a few small, independent and/or foreign outlets that use open source intelligence (OSINT) in their reporting and they seem pretty reliable to me, but I want to vet them a bit further.

EDITED: Removed the name of a news organization that I previously said I thought was reliable. They did not issue a correction after uncritically repeating Hamas's lie that the al-Ahli hospital parking lot bombing was an Israeli airstrike that killed 500 people, and spent days repeating these false claims as if they were fact.

[lunarian-anarchist]

Before You Follow...

So to save myself a headache and having to deal with the bigoted maniacs on this site; I will now be making y'all aware of what I won't tolerate on here and also to make y'all aware of who I am and what I believe.

Firstly; if you are anti Ukraine or Pro Russia this isn't the blog for you. While I have my own criticisms of the Ukrainian government and NATO; that doesn't mean I support Russia. Russia isn't a communist country (which is an oxymoron anyways) and it is not interested in liberating other countries.

I am Pro Palestine but will not tolerate anti antisemitism; and no, I don't consider fair (aka not double standards) criticisms or even the want for Israel to not exist to be antisemitic. I am an anarchist first and foremost. I don't support the existence of any state.

If you go around calling Palestinians terrorists or savages this blog is not for you. If you go around calling all Israelis evil bloodthirsty monsters, this blog is not for you. People are not their governments.

If you support the government of Israel, this blog is not for you. If you support the government of Iran, this blog is not for you. There is no freedom in fascist theocracies or wannabe fascist theocracies.

If you support Hamas or the Houthis, this blog is not for you. There is no liberation in hatred and religious extremism backed by foreign governments who play chess with people's lives.

If you go around accusing random people of being a part of a specific belief you don't approve of, this blog is not for you. I don't believe in witch hunts or smearing other people to make yourself look good. If you want to know what someone believes, have a conversation with them.

Do not send me asks like "OMG!! Are you a _____??!". These asks are always in bad faith and are just looking for an opportunity to scream at someone over the internet and make themselves feel good. If you have a genuine question about what I believe, you can ask me in good faith. If I believe your ask is not in good faith I will delete it and possibly block you, depending on how accusatory it was.

90% of the time; Posting is not a revolutionary act. Alright y'all need to hear this one. While it can absolutely be good to spread awareness or post donation funds; you are not a revolutionary if you spend all your time posting unsourced twitter screenshots or typing up posts like "how come people aren't posting XYZ?" or "If you don't post XYZ you are a bad person!! How can you post anything not related to XYZ? Don't you realize people in XYZ are struggling everyday??!!". These types of posts are self righteous bullshit posted by people who spend all their time online and 99% of the time have never even attended a protest. Internet activism can achieve things sometimes but y'all grossly overestimate how often that is.

People are not morally or politically pure. This doesn't mean we should accept bigotry but it does mean that sometimes people will disappoint you and you should handle that in a mature and reasonable way rather than a callout post or sending death threats.

People make mistakes, people can be wrong. Make space for that. I find it disturbing and hilarious that so many leftists who claim to believe in restorative justice and criticize state punishment are all to willing to put the boot on the second someone is not right or someone doesn't share their exact beliefs. Some of y'all aren't bothered by fascism or state violence, you're bothered that you're not the one deciding who lives and dies, and of course you always believe yourselves to be on the right side of history too. Unlearn that, unpack that, grow.

Lastly, I have a life outside of tumblr and won't always be around to post on the latest horrors going on. Also, while this is a politics blog I do post other things. This is my space, please respect that.

[planeoftheeclectic]

I'd love to know more about "palutena trap (kid icarus meets the parent trap)"

Ok so I just answered an ask about this with a bit about the inspiration and approach I'm taking to this fic so this one I'm going to list some of my favorite plot points in no particular order:

This is a "modern au" so everyone has normal jobs, such as:

Investigative journalist who lives on a houseboat

Mob boss

Lead singer for a punk band which is actually a front for an eco-terrorist group

Karate sensei

Drag racer

Ex-MI6 butler

California surfer bro

Dark Pit, given the option refers to himself exclusively as "The Dark Falcon of Vengeance" or similar because I couldn't stretch my suspension of disbelief enough to call him Dark or to give him a different name entirely (much as I love @stonemaskedtaliesin's Pip, it just doesn't fit in the context I'm going with)

Dark Pit's actual name in this is Pit Pairisetti, and Pit's name is Pit Pasupati. Dark Pit's name is a more alliterative romanization of Bairisetty, a Telugu surname which means something like "falcon," which I thought was appropriate. Pasupati is a Hindi surname which was mostly picked because I liked the way it sounded and wanted both of their surnames to start with the same letter, giving the camp counselors an excuse to call them Dark Pit and Light Pit instead of just using their last initials.

Pit is going to mostly accidentally steal a team of horses from Hades as part of an escape when he's doing something with the Forces of Nature as the analog to the canonical Lightning Chariot. It will be glorious.

There is a Sonic expy who will never appear on-screen who is Phosphora's greatest nemesis (and possibly ending scene implied love interest, depends on if I think of anything funnier)

The background ship is past Palutena/Medusa and I haven't yet decided how much reconciliation they will do. Less than in The Parent Trap, for sure, but maybe more than I originally planned.

Medusa and Dark Pit know all the sorry details about their breakup, but Palutena never explained it to Pit

Despite their incredible athletic skills, both Pits sink like a rock in water.

As you might have gathered from their names, I am making Palutena and Medusa Indian, specifically from Northern India and Southern India, respectively. This is mostly because I can and encouraged by the fact that there's a species of parakeets from India that have naturalized to Greece. I'm pretty sure they're the ones from the tumblr poem about unmannerly peas, which is one of my all time favorites, so even better.

They met in Hyderabad and decided to marry each other instead of waiting around for whatever arranged marriage their families had planned for them. This is also why neither of them can go home because they would literally rather die than hear their aunt sigh and go "this is why blah blah blah."

They won the houseboat from Poseidon in a poker game. Palutena played the cards, Medusa helped her cheat.

The divorce was really ugly. Like, dragged through all the tabloids levels of ugly. Pit doesn't know about it because all of his electronics have parental controls about that specifically. It ruined Medusa's PI firm, which is why she now works for the mob boss.

This is why Pit just knows about the bad things Medusa has done (there was a REASON the divorce was ugly and it was not all Palutena's fault) but Dark Pit knows about things that Palutena said about him, specifically.

The Pits spend some time at camp bonding in the counselors-only Jacuzzi, and possibly over a camp play. Can't decide how much Addams Family Values I want to throw in.

Hades has eaten human hearts before, but prefers Amazon River Dolphin. He says the stench of evil ruins the taste.

Despite all the plot I have planned out (this is going to be so much longer than TFP) I feel like I have so much less of it planned out than TFP (which, to be fair, is a murder mystery). It's always a big shift to jump from one to the other, and it's going to be even more of a shift once I finish TFP and start editing and posting in earnest, but I'm looking forward to trying a different style of editing when I get there!

[currentfandomkick]

I feel the need to bring this up, but its entirely possible baby Dan refers to both Maddie and Danny as Mom, as he has his own memories and Dan’s (as fusion as teenager with Vlad doesnt undo his prior experiences as Danny before becoming Dan) and Dan is trying to work out if this is before or after Maddie and Jack defected from the GIW and joined the Amity in kicking out the GIW.

If its before Danny is young and may be before Dan was supposed to see Danny at this age, but after (as 2024) means its safe to be with Danny and call him mom, while Maddie is more Grandma even though he remembers his prior time as Dan in the erased timeline (more blurry), and that he needs Ellie (older sister here that takes him on adventures) to get home safely.

Dan is being smart about getting home safely without intruding on Danny’s timeline, and may assume great grandpa Clockwork shenanigans were involved.

He just sees a cave system, a lot of ninja minions, people in weird outfits that probably fight who they think are bad guys, and isnt sure if he and ellie are on that list for existing.

So his best bet?

Minimum information given, and asking questions while giving little in return.

Dan just wants to go home, and is trying to make sure it exists.

Hell, Ras could be anything from a reincarnation to Danny and co deciding Dan needed to practice running a group and he decided to follow Sam and her favorite eco-terrorist’s example (plus more), and decided Eco-terrorism funded by his assassin cult. As an earlier version of Ras that he could be in this one is explicitly trying to preserve near extinct species himself, better direct politics toward more environmentally safe policies (or die), and he knows where many expert criminals are, their specialties and likely has a grasp of how to counteract them. Plus they protect (and use) fixed natural portals leaks and prevent many more people from getting hurt by them with intense regulation on their use and by who.

In short, from Dan’s POV as Ras, he’s protecting the environment with an army if his own, and keeping leaks from the Infinite Realms safe from people who would abuse them or die from exposure to them.

depending on how you go with Damian’s past in the League, he could have had a good relationship with him and helped oversee his training as he saw a genius child he wanted to be able to protect themselves and nurture the interests of (damian being a doctor at ten is wild either way, but his love of animals and wanting to help care for them would lead to him learning those and humans to help with injuries could be a natural avenue).

Damian, preferring swords as a weapon,was given intense—bordering abuse if not actually abusive—training by human standards… but Dan/Ras thinks these are normal as he loves his grandkids and sees fighting as bonding as a halfa that was full-ghost for a decade and sees combat fundamentally differently. He thinks he’s helping Damian and may see him as the first of the line that is liminal enough to meet Ellie and Danny, but wanted him ‘ready’ to first, as Ellie is a violently feral gremlin and Danny’s a mad scientist engineer obsessed with stars on a good day.

Ras didnt view Damians training as abusive, and in many versions, Damian was raised in an artificial womb (so cloning tech he’d have mental access to from Vlad’s dormant memories).

Honestly, this can be a lot of fun if you play more with Ras earlier characterization and his gray morality. Especially if the batfam meets Danny who goes “oh. Dan is supposed to be with Ellie playing in the time stream—how did he get this small?” While the batfam sees plants and tech merged everywhere (courtesy of Sam and Tucker) while there are a few telescopes, star maps and a lot of half started engineering projects lying around as Danny (Ras’ Mom) carries Dan on his hip and invites the Batfam into his lair of clearly mad scientist, eco-terrorist and is that heiroglyphs on the walls? (Tucker coded the house using them)

Is it a Enemy or a Child

In their line of work de-aging is not an uncommon occurrence.

Tim wouldn't say that it's a monthly occurrence but definitely a yearly one. What is unusual is the fact that it's a villain specifically Ras.  Seeing him experience the consequences of his actions is always a fun experience, but having a de aged version of one of your main nemesis is a little bit of a problem.

They've never seen him younger than the about 60 that he usually runs around us. In front of them was a 6 year old with a mix of black and white hair, with heterochromia that gave him red and green eyes. He wrapped himself in his original clothes that were way too big for him and glared at the heroes in front of him.

Nightwing is the first one to snap out of the shock.

“hey there buddy” Nightwing says in his usual victim tone as it's very obvious that the kid has no memories.

“don't come near me” The kid seems to look around, probably trying to figure out where he is “where's my mom?”

that breaks their hearts, with how old he is originally is there's no doubt in their mind that she's long dead.

“Something happened to you buddy that we're trying to figure out and if you could help us that would be great”  Nightwing tries to gently ignore the question and stare off into another topic.

“Mom doesn't leave me” he seem to be trying to make themselves seem brave but they can see the tears forming in the sides of his eyes ”did something happen to Ellie”

“how about you tell us your name, who Ellie is and what your mom's name is and we'll see about how we can reunite you. Is that okay?”

The child then looked around the room again. This kid version of Ras was trying to figure out if he could trust them.

“it's Dan, and that's all you're getting until you tell me where I am“

[id0ntkn0w0101]

Of Dreams and Fury - Chapter 4

Dorian

I looked up at the darkening sky and at the setting sun in the horizon before entering Schafer Electronics Emporium. I would’ve thought Adalia’s instructions were wrong or some sick prank if it wasn’t for the name Cornelius Schafer emblazoned on the line above the address. “We’re closed, kid,” an older gentleman behind the counter shouted, his reading glasses sitting on the tip of his nose as he looked over some old fashioned log book, calculator balanced on his knee. “I know,” I started, “But my friend said you could help me. Her name’s Adalia.” The man’s expression turned grim and he slid his glasses off his nose before calmly setting them on the counter next to him. “Adalia Webster sent you,” he asked, and I nodded.

“What trouble have you gotten yourself in boy?”

“A Dreamwalker called the Hellhound is after me. Can you help?”

“Depends on why the Cramer girl is after you.”

I paused, shock he knew of the Hellhound by name since it was only really known by people on the streets and the authorities. “I’m Dorian Merrick,” I said, scanning the man’s face for any reaction, “I’m supposed to be the new Lord of Fire, but I ran.”

“You gonna tell me about the fancy necklace you stole too, kid, or are you already going to hide stuff from me. Because that shit won’t fly.”

I sighed. “Fine. I stole the Amulet of Light, too. Since I hadn’t inherited all my father’s shit when I left, I didn’t have any money and I knew it’d get a good price.”

The man sighed again, “Damn girl needs to stop sending me all the stray puppies. So what do you expect me to do for you,” he asked, and I froze. I didn’t know what I expected of him. Dali had just given me his address so I figured he’d done this before or something.

“Do you have a place I can stay,” I asked, feeling sheepish, “Where I might be safe from her while I figure out what to do?”

“There ain’t no place in all of Orain that can save you from the Hellhound, kid. She’s possibly the strongest Dreamwalker we know of in the world right now, and she’s determined as hell. She’s only ever hired for really important contracts, because she gets them done everytime. She was the one who helped bring down that terrorist group few years back.”

“Is there anything I can do to not get killed? Leaving before I could be sworn in as Lord of Fire is already considered treason.”

“Did you keep the Amulet?

“No I sold it a couple hours after I ran.”

“Fuck, kid,” Mr. Schafer said, running his aged hand through white hair, “You might, and I mean might be able to get off without dying if you are able to return the Amulet and you do the job. And even all that’s not a guarantee, with that damned King of ours.”

“You’re not a fan of Nikolai either?”

He gave me a look that said “What do you think” before he stood from his creaky stool and walked over to me. His hands grasped my chin firmly as he tilted my face in different directions. “You’ve got a recognizable face, but if the King was the one who described you to the girl, you might be ok. Man could never remember a face.”

“So what do I do”

“I’m getting there,” he said, switching to fiddling with the curls of my hair and my nose and ear piercings, “Take the metal out, and you’ll probably have to dye your hair. I’d go with a dark brown. Style it to cover your ears too.”

“So you’re solution is to just change my appearance until she can’t recognize me? She’s a Retriever, she doesn’t even need to see someone to be able to find them.”

“I know kid, but this is just to keep you safe for now. She can’t hunt you until she knows your psychic signature, and that’s going to be hard as hell to do if she can’t recognize its you or touches an item you’ve touched a lot.”

I thought back to Adalia, who no doubt had multiple of my personal items she either stole long before I had to leave the Barracks or things I didn’t take with me when I left, but I tried to bottle back my mild worry in favor of remembering that I could trust her. “I’ll let you stay upstairs, all the TVs in here should interfere with the Hellhound’s read of you if she gets one,” the old man said, leading me through the curtained doorway just out of sight from the main room of the store. We passed by older TVs and a bin of outdated phones and other mobile devices. Computers lined a wall to the side, most of the towers missing panels and parts that even I knew should be there, and to the right of the big work desk riddled with boards and cables was a door. He twisted a key into the knob before handing it to me, opening the door and leading me up the stairs. There was a small studio apartment, with basic psychic protection runes that were standard for a lot of rental places. The kitchenette was sequestered off by a wall and half-wall. The couch had already been folded out into a bed and the table in front of it was riddled by empty beer bottles and cans and books on everything from computer repair to plant hybridization.

“Over there,” he said, pointing at the door hidden in the shadows of a narrow hallway next to the kitchen, “Is the bathroom. Use what you absolutely need, don’t go snooping though. You may have to jiggle the hot water dial in the shower. You can clearly see where the kitchen is, and the main room. I’ll be by early tomorrow morning before I open to give you the hair dying stuff you’re going to need.” “Thank you Cornelius,” I said, and the man turned towards me with a glare.

“I am not ‘Cornelius’ to you, kid,” he grumbled, “You call me Mr. Schafer or sir or even old man. But not Cornelius.” I blinked owlishly at the man, standing just an inch over my height despite me being considered somewhat short. “You can help yourself to stuff in the kitchen, but I’m not going to make a store run for you until Tuesday so make that shit last a few days if you can.” I nodded curtly, and he looked at me in contemplation before rolling his eyes and walking back out the door and down the stairs.

I looked around the room at my new reality before looking through the kitchen cabinets. Once I finally found the box I was looking for, I pulled out one of the trash bags and started cleaning up all the bottles and stains. When I was done, I immediately dug through my bag to find clean-ish clothes to wear and went to the bathroom to take my first shower in weeks. The bathroom was decorated entirely in a color that can only be described as piss yellow, down to the tiles on the floor and walls. Even the bathtub had a yellow tinge, though that was likely more from a lack of cleaning than anything else. It was a far cry from the massive room and claw-foot tub I’d grown accustomed to before I ran, but at least this didn’t come with a hate-filled career and a loveless marriage like my old life would surely force me into.

After my shower, I put on my clothes and went to the kitchen to find a styrofoam of takeout from one of the local restaurants. It was some kind of noodle dish with chicken with a note written in chicken-scratch handwriting: Ordered food right before you arrived. Figured I’d just give you the food I usually keep in my fridge for tomorrow’s lunch. Enjoy. I briefly wondered, as I sat there eating the lukewarm noodles, if I had made a mistake running away from that life. Maybe Adalia was right and I could just try to delegate the work better amongst the probably hundreds of people that would work for me so that I myself would barely have any work. And the loveless marriage… well my mother never loved my father, but I think she might have loved the man she stayed with in the guesthouse. Perhaps I could just have an affair as well and maybe find someone who loved me enough to not be the lover seen with me in the public’s eye.

I sighed, gazing up at the ceiling and shutting my eyes as hard as I could. Like I’d told Dali: “If he lets me live, I still lose my life.” Even if I’m not killed, it’s no more parties or late nights reading or going to the park just to lay on the ground and look at light filter in through tree branches. It’s no more “I have a migraine, I’ll just go take a nap until it wears off.” It’ll just be people needing me to make important decisions all the time. I’d be the one in charge of running their electricity and deciding how strict to be on bills getting paid and I’d be determining who was making little enough that they deserved aid to pay their bills and it’d be me possibly ruining their lives with my decisions in council meetings. It’d be me in a job I never wanted and still don’t want while the people look up at me in my stupid manor on the stupid hill and hate me and protest me being in charge when they’d all probably make the same decisions. I don’t want that. I gave up on holding back tears and let out a quiet sob before curling up with a blanket that either left my shoulders or my feet uncovered and closed my eyes.

[allisonlol]

Hi how are you? First I wanna tell you that your writing is amazing and I really enjoy reading you work. Keep up with it💕

So... can request headcanons (or drabble, whatever you prefer) where the reader asks Nikolai gogol (they're dating) to cut her hair? I think his reaction would be funny cause he seems to care deeply about his hair...

Tysm and also, no pressure!💕💕

a/n: i'm doin pretty good, thank you sm :D this is such a cute req i added some others as well if that's alr <3 it's fitting since yesterday i literally chopped off all my hair lmao, i feel like nanno now hehe

warnings: implied fem reader, no specific hair type or length mentioned

(Nikolai, Dazai, Chuuya) When Their S/O Asks Them to Cut Her Hair

Nikolai

i can't decide if this is a good decision or a disastrous one

granted he does have pretty hair and seems to take good care of it himself but...

i just think that nikolai + a pair of scissors + your hair = a possible disaster

but you were willing to give it a try, apparently

when you told nikolai that you wanted him to cut your hair, his face lit up immediately

throws you into a chair and pulls all the stuff he needs out of his overcoat??

you're starting to have second thoughts that this MIGHT not be the best idea when he literally grabs a chunk of your hair and just...cuts it off

too late to stop now huh 0-0

mf also doesn't let you look in a mirror until the very end?? so ur anxiety was skyrocketing while he does who knows what to your hair

teases you at the end and won't flip the mirror around for you to see so you YANK it out of his hands

but?? you're shocked to see it actually looks?? really good??

bro even styled it for you like damn! nikolai why are you busy being a terrorist when you could be a hairstylist instead!

& depending on the length you wanted it he may have given you a little matching braid like his <3

Dazai

um so we all know how i feel about him

and i'm sorry but there's no way this is turning out the way you wanted it. like why would you even let this man bring scissors near your hair

you'd wanted to change your hair pretty drastically and figured hell, why not ask your bf so you can save money instead of going to a stylist

and sure it's a great idea on the surface, but this is dazai we're talking about

ofc he's all excited about it. won't shut up about how he's going to make you look "better than ever before" ??

dazai's like "i do my own hair so, as you can see, you can trust me" mf all i see is ur goofy ass uneven haircut but ok

another one who won't let you look into the mirror until he's finished

does it in like 10 minutes too?? and that's when you KNOW something's gonna be very wrong

spins your chair around to face the mirror and you're fr flabbergasted. like >:0

pls you jump up from the chair and are ready to start throwing punches ngl!!

let's just say you lost more money afterwards trying to get it fixed than if you'd went to the hairdresser in the first place

Chuuya

aah. my beloved <3

so. you either hate or you love chuuya's hairstyle and i'm one of the mfs that loves it (it is very gorgeous to me??)

n i already know y'all are gonna be like "how ru gonna say dazai's hair is bad but like chuuya's" it's an acquired taste alright

some may call it BAD taste but i think this man knows what he's doing when it comes to hairstyling. not as good as nikolai, but you can trust him whenever you wanna change things up

i feel like he's definitely nervous about it tho :') like he's just so worried he'll mess it up & you'll be mad lmao

hit him with the "so you can't do it? alr i'll ask someone else" and BAM he's shoving you down in a chair & asking what you want done with ur hair

works every time

is overly cautious. sits you right in front of a mirror and fr asks "is this ok" before cutting each section?? ur just like "yes sweetie, for the third time that's fine" :')

chuuya just wants you to be happy okay

the end result is no surprise since he basically walked you thru the whole thing but, i'll have you know it looked great <3

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @xelia25 @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway @beautiful-is-boring @irethepotato @serenareiss @thescrunkly @ashthemadwriter

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition. 

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

[thefanficmonster]

Few Too Many

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, In-game violence and death, Suggestive comments

Genre: Protective fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Jealousy is a dangerous thing, especially when the jealous person is armed with a gun....in a game of Counter Strike. At least Y/N’s friend will now know not to mess around and flirt with her, especially not with Corpse around.

Requested by 🐐 Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request but here it finally is! I didn’t want to make it IRL violence to avoid triggering anyone while I also felt it’d be very ooc for Corpse to beat someone up but I still hope you enjoy the fic if you come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Hey everyone!“ Y/N greets her squad as they all customize their characters while I sit there, observing and unknowing of what I’m supposed to do. “I invited Corpse to play with us today, hope y’all don’t mind.”

“Of course not! Nice to finally meet you, Corpse. We’ve heard a ton about you from Y/N, thanks for making our girl the happiest she’s ever been.“ One of her friends says, the tone of his voice suggesting he’s only half-joking with the dad like comment he made.

“Nice to meet you too, man. Glad I’m the one she gave the chance of making her happy. That’s all I ever wanna do.“ Though it may sound cheesy, as guys, her friends can probably read into how genuinely I mean what I’ve said.

Dating a girl with only guy friends has it’s pros and cons. Which outweigh which is still up for debate since I’m still researching, but so far so good in my opinion. This is the first time I’m interacting with them directly so I’ve still got a long way to go in terms of getting to know them and the details of their relationship with Y/N better. Regardless, I at least know they can easily understand me and put themselves in my shoes if I ever ‘mess things up’ with Y/N and she goes to complain to them - something that will most likely never happen. I’d never dare make this girl upset. Chances are, if I do, her friends won’t get to me on time - I would deliver my own punishment just the way I think I deserve it. However, there’s also the chance of them getting super protective of her and ganging up on me over something as small as a fight. By the many things and stories Y/N’s shared with me about them, I believe they wouldn’t think twice about kicking someone’s ass for her. They’re not massive dudes - I’ve seen pictures of them - but I for one don’t ever wanna see em angry.

“Ay bro, what’d you do to score our best girl? You must know what she likes. If so please, by all means, do tell.“ One of them, not the one who was previously talking, speaks up, his words making me furrow my brows in both confusion and irritation.

I open my mouth to complain as I slowly start cracking my knuckles when Y/N and her friends beat me to it. Thing is, Y/N’s friend group consists of three guys and her and yet four voices scolded the guy that made that suggestive comment. That being said, this guy probably isn’t considered to be one of her friends, at least not one that’s a permanent part of her friend group.

“Seth, cut it out!“ The guy I was previously speaking to says sharply before softening his tone to refer to me, “Sorry about my brother, excuse his lack of brain cells, please.“

Just then, I also receive a message from someone. Checking my phone, turns out it’s Y/N who by the way is currently in the living room while I’m in the recording room. Her text reads:

Y/N ~ Ignore Seth. I told Leo to not invite him but he’s still here somehow

I send her back a quick reassuring text before answering the guy I now know is named Leo, “No worries, it’s fine.”

“See? The guy can take a joke, you’re all just freaking out over nothing!“ Seth laughs, reminding me and the others of how loud he is compared to us.

Despite acting like it’s no big deal, I can’t help but admit to myself that this behavior of Seth’s has awoken a deeply buried suspicion of mine that’s not only mine but also arises in every guy whose girlfriend hangs out with a lot of guys. It’s not that I don’t trust Y/N - she could literally blindfold me and tell me to walk through a pool of lava, promising it wouldn’t hurt and I’d do it - but we all know about that saying that every guy in a group with one girl has liked said girl at least once.

Disturbing to think these four, including Seth five, dudes could’ve possibly been my competition at some point. It’s nice that they’re all super chill about it, mostly cause some of them have girlfriends as I was told.

Nevertheless, we get over that hiccup and carry on with the small talk and preparations for the game. Since it’s my first time playing CSGO, Y/N, Leo and her other friend Clancy explain the mechanics to me in detail to avoid me getting confused mid-game and getting myself killed. When they finish, we start the round and wait for the game’s algorithm to separate us into two teams which Y/N jokingly refers to as cops and robbers. Unfortunately, the end result of that separation ends up being me getting put in the terrorists’ force with Leo and Clancy while Y/N’s with the FBI, partnered with Seth and her other friend Evan.

“Alright, team, we shall now disperse. Corpse, remember, if you see more than one of them, radio in and lay low, we’ll be with you as soon as possible.“ Leo informs me as he runs off in one direction, Clancy going in the opposite. I confirm I understand and go along my way too, heading for this ancient looking structure that looks like it could belong in an old-timey movie. 

Walking in, I realize the place is way bigger than it appeared on the outside. A quick look up confirms that there are three fucking floors above, not to mention that the ground floor is huge. Luckily, there are many crates and barrels to hide behind if I come across an FBI agent. I sure as hell hope it’s Y/N, I could maybe even try talking her into giving me a second chance at life and pretend she never saw me. Come to think of it though, I’d probably prefer getting killed by her rather than her friends - especially Seth.

Given that we’re in a Discord call, I can hear all the conversation going on. They are all quiet though, I can just periodically hear the mumbles of someone muttering to themselves as they navigate the map cautiously out of fear of running into their opponent unprepared. The silence is put to an end though when Seth speaks up, addressing Y/N.

“Yo, your boyfriend’s with the terrorists, ain’t he? That’s like the universe giving you a sign that y’all shouldn’t be together.“ The fucker laughs at his own joke while I can literally hear Y/N rolling her eyes.

“Have you heard of Romeo and Juliet, Seth?“ She asks sarcastically, almost getting a chuckle out of me but I suppress it to avoid getting caught listening in.

“Yeah, they both die at the end. Fucking boooriiinngg.“ Just then, I spot two silhouettes entering the building. Aiming my gun at them reveals their names - just the people I’m currently involuntarily eavesdropping on. Seth and Y/N don’t notice me though so I quickly duck behind a crate and prepare to radio in when Seth continues verbally torturing Y/N and dancing on my last nerves, “I personally think the friends-to-lovers trope is far more interesting...“

Did this guy just- no, he’s gotta be fucking kidding me

I’m left with my jaw hanging in disbelief at this guy’s audacity. I have no doubt Y/N’s about to put him in his place herself but I just gotta have my own chat with this guy. And by ‘chat’ I mean I mindlessly rush out from behind the crate towards where I saw him and Y/N and open fire on him.  I hear his startled and upset screams with Y/N’s laughter in the background. She doesn’t try to stop me as a teammate of his should and would, instead she just observes the scene unfold, laughing her ass off.

“Yo man what the fuck was that for?!“ I hear Seth’s yell but only faintly since the sound of gunshots is still echoing through my headphones. Yeah, I’m not done shooting this fucker.

“Corpse...Corpse, buddy...“ Y/N manages through fits of laughter she cannot tame, “That’s a few too many bullets, he’s already dead.”

“And that was a few too many comments for him to be let off the hook.” I answer as sharply as I can with the new-formed smile on my face. What can I say, her happiness is contagious.

“Well, you got your first kill in CSGO. Good job, babe! I’m super proud of you!” She cheers for me, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Nah that was my first overkill.“ I quickly add, with a more threatening tone: “And it won’t be my last.”

“Let’s just hope there aren’t few too many of these overkills either.“ She snickers.

“That doesn’t depend on me, babe.“ I say smugly, suggestively enough for Seth to pick up the dropped hint. Mother fucker’s officially been put in his place and I couldn’t possibly be happier - with the added bonus of getting a ton of laughter out of Y/N who also decides to walk away, leaving me unharmed but promising to shoot to kill next time she sees me.

I’m ok with that. She could kill me anyday.

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[itsohh]

Do you write for groups? Like if I ask for SAS, GIGN, Spetsnaz, etc would you do all?? Or is it just one on one fics? Both are great just wanna know what I can and can’t do <33

Hydrate and eat properly

Thanks a bunch for the question, it's actually something I have wanted to do for a while so this certainly gave me a push. I'm gonna use this opportunity to just write what I do and don't do all together. Yeah I totally need to go drink some water

What I write for:

Pronouns / gender: Female (she/her) and gender neutral / non binary (they/them)

NSFW: Consequential, BDSM (light), praise, age gap (younger reader in at least their 20's) there's more that I can't think of right now (feel free to ask about specific things if their not on the no list.

Length: Oneshots, series (unrequestable it just happens), prompts / headcanons (I don't have much practice but I'll give it a go), I'm open to most things in terms of forms

What I do not write for:

Pronouns: Male (he/him)

NSFW: Watersports, scat, noncon / dub-con, orgy, underage, furry, tickling, feet, armpits, inflation. (Any typically gross kink)

SFW: Depression, self-harm, pregnancy, mental illness (PTSD is the exception), poc specific / focused (I don't have the experience to get this correct, menstruation, illness (injury is allowed), child or teen, terrorist by choice (eg not a hostage), alcohol / recreation drug consumption

Overly specific requests, in the past I have encountered really really specific requests of like plot where they wanted and I just can't work with it. (Like SUPER specific eg: they do this then do that then escape this way) If you do request something there are no downsides to clarifying what you request. I sometimes do struggle with comprehending things so clarifying exactly what you want is welcome!

The grey zone:

Poly relationships are something I'm open to writing for but I'm rather picky on the groups. For R6S at the moment there's no poly groups that I'm currently open writing for.

Love triangles isn't exactly something I write for kinda. I'll write exes and like moving on from them.

Prompts for all of a group are a grey zone, so long as I write for a decent amount of the group (orange and above) then I'll probably just do it if it's like headcanons or something. If I do struggle with a certain character, I'll just exclude them. I might write any things for groups as just like a discussion/headcanons or drabbles. You are welcome to mix match as well if you want the same headcanon but for multiple ops. (Try not to go a max of 4, I may or may not write them all so please say if you have a higher preference of who if you have one.)

The main groups: (SAS | GIGN | Spetsnaz | FBI | GSG 9 | )

If the reader is from a country it will default to NZ because that's where I'm from (possibly Aussie because our culture is similar). I'll put it in the A/N if I am mentioning this, which also means a lot of cultural things will always be to NZ culture for example schooling is primary - intermediate - high school - uni.

Who I write for:

Key: Will not write for | Will write as a friend / will be a main character in fic. (Is my grey zone, can depend on my mood) | will write SFW only | Who I like to bully / make rejection fic's | NSFW allowed (all goes)

This is of course subject to change, some of the characters in red / orange I do like but may not have a good characterisation of them. I don't have any experience writing with NSFW female partners and bit on the fence about it. Especially as I probably lean more toward males than females or other in my bisexuality.

The orange zone is very orange and certainly depends on the request, some people are closer to green than others. If there's a specific orange operator that you wish to know about feel free to ask how I feel about them. Green is more of the will always say yes (so long as the prompt is something I write). If I just don't like something I may just say no even if it's to the rules.That being said, so long as something isn't a strict no/red, feel free to ask! The worst that will happen will be that I say no. Gif requests are also open.

If someone needs a colour blind / written form of this I will be happy to write one up if need be, just hit me up on asks and I will.

[what-is-denial-if-not-fanfiction]

Charles becomes Peter’s dad AU

PART 4 A few days in, he was already regretting volunteering on teaching Peter – it seems that the boy, contrary to his mutation – was a slow learner. There are times when you think he has it, and then all of a sudden – he most certainly does not. It did not however had anything to do with Peter’s intellect – in fact, Erik quite liked the conversations he had with the young man. They bonded over languages – Romani and Deutsch in particular as it turns out that Charles’…wife? Partner? Had been of Romani descent. It had however, had something to do with the boy’s attention span. Mein gott, no wonder the boy never got into university – Peter was smart, yes. Cunning? Very. And there are bouts of surprising wisdom from the boy here and there. But you would be more likely to be having an afternoon tea with a bear than keep Peter’s attention for more than a few minutes at a time.

He sighs. He had become fond of the boy, that much is true – but he cannot keep going on like this. He has asked Charles’ advice, but the man kicked him out of the room! How can sweet loving Charles be so apathetic to his situation? Well… he supposes, he did ask the man to use his powers on Peter, but that was only for Peter to keep his attention! Never mind, he signed up for this and he was determined to finish it. And if there was something that Erik was, it would be persistent.

So, as the boy was struggling to maintain direction of the floating mantle, his thoughts were running rampant in his mind. Techniques on how to teach the boy, perhaps games to keep him interested? Music. The boy liked music, maybe next time they play music as they practice. Idea after idea and plan after plan form in Erik’s mind and for a while he felt like Magneto again. The Magneto that schemed and prepared a Plan D for his Plan C which was in case his Plan B did not work. There was short rush of thrill in his veins as prepared for every possible occurrence – keyword, of course… short.

A phone rang and it was the loudest, noisiest thing he has ever heard. Bang! He was startled and so was Peter – who dropped the heavy mantle in favor of the ringing phone. The boy being socially inept put it on speaker. Dear God, why?

“Pietro, go in front of the mansion.” A woman’s voice said. Peter’s eyes widened and his mouth floundered open and close. Now he was curious. There was only so much that left the boy and his forever running mouth speechless.

“Alright, just a sec,” Peter said preparing to run.

“Peter wait!” Erik said. Discipline. He had to teach the boy discipline and patience first. And that starts with tempering Peter’s overwhelming cravings to run. Powers were good and all but Peter had to learn when to use them and not to. Erik agrees that they should not have had to, but it is a sad truth of their world that at the moment, he was willing to compromise. Their safety depends on it, and until they have governmental sovereignty or at least some sort of protection by the law, they had to be careful to whom they showed their powers around.

Peter turns to him. “Walk normally,” he instructed.

“What? Come on man, it’s literally just a second,” Peter whined.

“You said that you would follow every word when this began,” shooting him a pointed look.

“On the metal thing!”

“Walk or we stop the lessons. Charles will be very disappointed in you,” the line seeming to work as Peter’s shoulders dropped and the boy mumbling a quick, “Fine.”

Erik followed the boy down the hall, determined to keep Peter from running – which only served to irritate the boy. Good. He mentally scoffs. With the amount of medicine, he drank for migraines this week, surely, he should get just the littlest of revenges.

When they reached the door, a girl – young. Perhaps Peter’s age faced them. She had the reddest hair that he has ever seen. A mutant then. Well, if he was speaking genetically, all redheads are mutants but he does mean the sort of mutant that would have powers. He was still assessing this woman, whether she was threat or not, but Peter seemed to be at ease around her. Did they know each other? “Wanda? What are you doing here?” Peter asked confused. His voice however had an underlying hint of excitement in it.

“Well?” she grinned, mischief in her eyes, “Long gone sis get to squeeze her stinkin’ brother to death or what?”

Sis? What? He was getting confused more and more by the second but he was willing to keep observing before making any moves. They hugged. Peter and the woman- Wanda were laughing and speaking with one another with great levels of familiarity. Which makes sense, since the woman had said that he was her brother. But Charles had not mentioned that he had another child?

Peter who must’ve noticed the puzzled expression on his face, finally showed him mercy and introduced them.

“Erik, this is my twin sister Wanda. Wanda this is Erik – or Magneto. Mags. You know the terrorist guy who floated the stadium?”

“Yeah, I know. Hi!” The woman said, offering her hand. He could only focus on one thing, however.

His voice went shrill with panic and confusion. There were two?

But Charles never mentioned- “Twin???”