#path to us citizenship

[sarcastic-clapping]

sorry but it’s very funny to see maga idiots splitting with trump and feeling betrayed because he ran on such a huge anti-immigration platform, but now some of his closest high-profile business allies like elon musk are singing the praises of the H-1B skilled worker visa program and talking about how they should remove the cap on certain non-immigrant visa types that they depend on to run their businesses.

like. who’s going to tell them that trump is widely known to staff all his resorts and properties with foreign workers that are here on H-2B seasonal work visas? and that the justification he’s given is that they’re seasonal low wage jobs that don’t appeal to american workers? you know, because he’s not willing to pay a living wage or offer any benefits to make those jobs more appealing and would rather exploit cheap foreign labor for maximum profits.

it’s almost like….the issue isn’t immigration or immigrants “stealing” american jobs, it’s the wealthy owning class being unwilling to sacrifice even a minuscule little sliver of profit to offer fair wages and decent benefits for the work required to keep their businesses operational. but idk. just a thought.

[vamptastic]

Legitimately might leave the country, so there's that at least

[indianahal]

With US military recruiting goals falling drastically in recent years, there are some in the defense department and Congress that want to allow more illegal immigrants to join our military.  Many concerned critics say that with so many non-vented illegals crossing our southern border the last two years, just such an enlistment policy would be foolish at best.  Proponents, however, believe this would bolster our military ranks, and encourage non-citizens to want to pursue legal status after a period of years.  My new video program, the "U.S. Considering Allowing Illegal Immigrants To Join Our Military."

[arellas]

portugal in top 20 of the most powerful passports in the world TRUST ill be applying for citizenship through the ‘my grandpa was born under your colonial rule’ pathway

[teaboot]

How do Canadian schools teach about indigenous Canadian history and culture? -a curious USAmerican

In my experience we learned about colonization at the same time as we learned about the formation of Canada. At first it was "European settlers came and pushed out the indigenous population", then in the higher grades we learned more about the how and the why.

For example, how carts full of men with rifles would ride around shooting Buffalo, then leaving the meat on the ground to rot, because "a dead Buffalo is a dead indian", which was so fanatical it almost wiped out wild Buffalo entirely

Also how Canadian settlers were lured in with beautiful hand-painted advertisements for cheap, beautiful, fertile land that was unpopulated and perfect, if only you'd sail over with your entire family and a pocket full of seeds- only to be met with scared, confused, and angry lawful inhabitants already run out of ten other places, and frigid winters, and rocky, forested, undeveloped dirt.

also, smallpox blankets, where "gifts" of blankets infected with smallpox were intentionally given out

And treaty violations- Either ignoring written agreements entirely, or buying them out at insanely low prices and lying about the value, or trading for farming equipment that they couldn't use because they weren't farmers.

Then in the first world war, where they told indigenous peoples here that they'd be granted Canadian citizenship if they enlisted

To Residential schools, which was straight up stealing kids for slavery, indoctrination, and medical experiments

But we also covered the building of the Canadian Railway in which Chinese immigrants were lowered into ravines with dynamite to blow out paths through the mountain for pennies on the dollar

And the Alberta Sterilization Act, where it was lawful and routine procedure to sterilize women of colour and neurodivergent people without their awareness or consent after giving birth or undergoing unrelated surgeries

But I'm rambling.

We kind of learned Aboriginal history at the same time as everything else? Like. This is when Canada was made, and this is how it was done. Now we'll read a book about someone who lived through it, and we'll write a book report. And now a documentary, and now a paper about the documentary. Onto the next unit.

And starting I think in grade 10 our English track was split between English and Aboriginals English, where you could choose to do the standard curriculum or do the same basic knowledge stuff with a focus on Aboriginal perspectives and literature. (I did that one, we read Three Day's Road and Diary Of A Part-Time Indian, and a few other titles I don't remember.)

There was also a lunch room for the Aboriginal Culture Studies where Aboriginal kids could hang out at lunch time if they wanted, full of art and projects and stuff. They'd play music or videos sometimes, that was cool

And one elective I took (not mandatory cirriculum) was a Kwakiutl course for basic Kwakwakaʼwakw language. Greetings, counting to a hundred, learning the modified alphabet, animals, etc. Still comes in handy sometimes at large gatherings cause they usually start with a land recognition thanking whoever's land we're on, with a few thanks and welcomes in their language.

And like- when I was in the US it was so weird, cause here we have Totem poles and longhouses and murals all over and yall... don't? Like there is a very distinct lack of Aboriginal art in your public spaces, at least in the areas I've been

My ex-stepfather, who was American, brought his son out once, and he was so excited to "see real indians" and was legitimately shocked to learn that there weren't many teepees to be found on the northwest coast, and was even *more* shocked when we told him that you have Aboriginal people back home too, bud. Your Aboriginal people are also named "Mike" snd "Vicky" and work as assistant manager at best buy.

If you'd ask me, I'd say that the primary difference is that USAmerica (from what I've seen, and ALSO in entirely too much of Canada) treats our European and Aboriginal conflicts as history, something that's tragic but over, like the extinction of the mammoths, instead of like. An ongoing thing involving people who are alive and numerous and right fucking here

But at the end of the day, I'm white, and there are plenty of actual Aboriginal people who are speaking out and saying much more meaningful things than I can

So I'm just gonna pass on a quote from my Stepmum, who's Cree, that's stuck with me since she said it:

"You see how they treat Mexicans in America? That's how they treat us here. Indians are the Mexicans of Canada."

[spacelazarwolf]

i’m glad that syria is free, that prisoners are being freed, that families are being reunited, and that refugees finally have the opportunity to return home. and at the same time, i’m also thinking about the fact that the syrian jews who were forced to flee syria will not be among those refugees. i’m thinking about the fact that assad demanded that syrian jews fleeing to the us be called tourists and buy round trip tickets, which meant they could not be considered refugees and therefore did not have that path to citizenship, only temporary permits and political asylum which were extremely restrictive. syrian jews in the us fought hard for their rights and it was only in 2000 that a bill was passed granting them citizenship. i’m thinking about the two elderly jewish women, two of the last three jews in syria, who live in qamishli, the same town where 57 jews were murdered in a pogrom after the 6 day war. i’m thinking about the four syrian jewish girls who were raped, murdered, and mutilated for trying to flee to israel. i’m thinking about the fact that while i am glad that syria is finally free from assad, syrian jews will likely never be able to experience that freedom for themselves.

[neil-gaiman]

Hey there Neil, I'm not one to usually send asks particularly if they are actually trying to promote something, but I know that you support refugees and are an UNHCR goodwill ambassador so I figured I'd give it a shot. I'm part of a local group in upstate NY who has been bringing refugees in from Haiti and Ukraine through humanitarian parole, but because of the rules as they are now they will be sent back unless lawmakers extend the program or create a path to citizenship for it. We have families who would have to be sent back into war zones and intense gang violence as soon as this December unless the US government makes a change to the program very soon. That said, we started a petition to send to several government officials in the hopes of getting their attention and I was wondering if you would share it. The link is pinned to my profile and I will include it here as well. Thanks for the good work you do!

https://chng.it/BS8nmsGc7P

Absolutely.

[sixpennydame]

dark side of the moon⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ [chapter 1]

Pairing: yakuza!Levi x f!reader

Word count: 4.6k

Summary:

Neo Tokyo, 2235. You’ve escaped the festering wasteland that is Earth for Mars, to a city where only the strong survive, and everybody has secrets.  Taking on a job as a hostess, you woo the city’s elite, your smile hiding your own dark past. When your path crosses with Levi Ackerman, said to be the strongest member of the Ackerman yakuza clan, you’re not sure whether to consider him a friend or a foe. Because in this city, nothing is what it seems. And the past never stays buried.

Author's note: I will be using Japanese words and phrases periodically and will have a glossary of terms at the end of the chapter.

Series Content/Warnings: mafia/yakuza AU, flashbacks, slow burn, mystery, cyberpunk, sci fi, non-binary Hange Zoe, eventual smut, dark content, graphic violence and sexual content, minors do not interact!

Chapter Content/Warning: mentions of blood, physical assault

next chapter/masterlist/AO3

Blood is thicker than you thought it would be. 

A sea of dark red surrounds you, soaking your clothes and the floor around you. 

Someone’s saying your name, but all you can hear is the thunder of your own heart beat. 

“Hey. Look at me. Do you remember what I promised? That I was never going to let anything bad happen to us again. We swore that we would always be there for each other.

No matter what happens, I promise that I will protect you.

I’ll fix this.”

.

.

.

“Oi you alive? Can you hear me?” A voice said.

You snapped back to reality. Get it together. Don’t fuck this up.

“Sorry…could you repeat that?”

The person in front of you takes off their glasses and cleans them with the edge of their shirt. “I said, you’re obviously not from around here. Where are you from?”

You shift in your chair. You knew that you were going to stand out from the other inhabitants of Neo Tokyo the moment you arrived here.

“I um..I’m from Earth.”

Their eyes go wide. “Earth? That shithole? I didn’t know there were still settlements there. How did you even earn a ticket to get to Mars?” You open your mouth to reply, but they put their hand out. “Don’t answer that - it’s none of my business.”

Obviously your planet of birth has made you intriguing; hopefully intriguing enough that they’ll give you a job. They look you up and down like you were a science experiment. “And why would an Earthling such as yourself want to work here, at Club Azure?”

“I’m a hard worker and a quick learner. And I need to make money fast.”

“Mmmhmmm… you can definitely do that here, if the guests like you,” they smile, “and you certainly would be a unique curiosity.” Brown eyes gleam behind their glasses, “But why do you really want to work here?”

There’s a silence as you think about what to say, but decide you might as well tell the truth. “This line of work doesn’t require me to have Mars citizenship papers.”

“And there it is,” they nod, seeming satisfied with your honesty. “It’s true, we don’t really care about those things here. In return, we expect our employees to be…discreet about our clientelle’s  information and other business that goes on here.”

“I can be discreet.”

“Is that so?” The brunette leans back in their chair and gives you another once-over, their finger tapping their chin. “You’re unique, and there’s a certain something about you… I’m certain the boss is really gonna love you,” they say out loud, more to themself than to you. 

If they aren’t the boss, you wonder who is. 

“Ok, you’re hired.” They reach their hand across the desk and towards you.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips; you hadn’t realized that you’d been holding your breath slightly. Your hand meets theirs and they shake it vigorously. “The name’s Hange Zoe. I run this fine establishment,” they say with pride. “And what should I call you?”

“My name is —“

Hange immediately puts their finger to your lips. “Nuh uh uh, you weren’t about to give me your real name, were you?” They click their tongue. “It’s best that you don't do that. If the authorities come skulking around asking questions, the less I know about you, the better.” 

“Oh…I see.” 

Seems that there’s a lot about this world that you don’t know.

“We need to give you a stage name. Let’s see..” They’re tapping their chin again. “…flower names are always a good choice. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Flower? I’ve never seen one of those before.”

“Oh right..you’re from Earth. It’s been a ruined wasteland for a long time..I guess you wouldn’t have ever seen them. Not that we have them here, either..” Hange stands up from their desk and begins to pace the floor of the small, cramped office. “What are your interests? Any hobbies?”

“I don’t have any hobbies but..” a smile comes to your face, “..on Earth, I loved to look up at the moon.”

“The moon? Hah! That orb is just an exclusive country club for the rich and famous. If your goal is to get there then you have another thing coming.”

You shake your head. “No, nothing like that. But when I was small, me and my si—” you stop. You’re getting too personal. Hange notices, but says nothing. “I mean, I would sit out and look at the moon for hours. I just wanted to escape.”

“And it looks like you’ve done that.” Suddenly Hange’s face brightens. “Luna! That’s what we’ll call you.”

They put their hand on top of your head. “Our little Earthling…let’s get you introduced to the rest of the group and get you dressed for tonight.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wait…I’m starting tonight?”

“Do you have something better to do?” They wait for a reply, to which you give none. “Then follow me.”

You follow Hange through the winding, narrow hall as they open a non-descript door. 

“This is where the girls get changed.” 

They open the door, gesturing for you to enter. Steel lockers are built around the perimeter of the room, with dressing tables and mirrors on the other side. Around you are women in various stages of undress: some have just arrived and are in their street clothes, others are walking around in their underwear, and all of them stop at some point to look you up and down. You knew you were going to stand out when you arrived in Neo Tokyo, but in the cruel, fluorescent lighting, it’s blazingly obvious. Most of the women around you have adorned their bodies with tattoos, the ink under their skin glowing brightly, making some of the images seem to move. Others have augmented their body: shining metallic arms and legs, hair and skin in every color of the rainbow…

All of it is nothing less than extraordinary.

There’s nothing extraordinary about your appearance. Your body doesn’t have a single tattoo or piercing. Your skin, eye, and hair color are ones that you were born with; your ‘human-ness’ is clearly on display for all to see.

“Presenting the hostesses of Club Azure!” The women go about their business as Hange walks you around the room. “You’ll find I’ve curated a diverse group of females who cater to every kind of taste….alien, android, and humanoid. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

One woman, putting on makeup, scoffs at the statement. “And just who have you wrangled to work here now, Hange?” She turns around to look at you, her nose scrunching up and her lips turning downward in a judgmental frown. “Or should I say, what..”

“Now, now, Ymir, be nice. Everyone!” Hange claps their hands,  “Luna’s just arrived from Earth and I need you all to play nice and show her the ropes. Historia! Find her a dress that’ll fit and let her shadow you tonight.”

A petite woman with golden, glittering hair and bright, shining blue eyes turns around. White tattoo ink glows under her skin, glittering like diamonds. “Of course.” She takes your hand. “Come with me, Luna.”

She leads you to a locker on the far end of the room and presses in a code. It opens with a clink. “This was Nanaba’s locker. I figure you and she are about the same size.” She pulls out a few items and holds them against your body.

“Was? Did she leave without taking her stuff?”

Historia looks away, biting her bottom lip. Apparently your question hit a nerve. “We’re not really sure, actually. She just…disappeared after work one morning, two weeks ago. We never saw her again.”

“You’re leaving out key information, Historia,” Ymir butts in, “she should have never started fucking that guy in the Ackerman clan. That got her killed, I have no doubt.”

“Ackerman clan?”

“Ymir…hush!” Historia nudges Ymir and attempts to push her away, to no success.

“You mean, Hange didn’t tell you? We are employees of Club Azure, but this club is “protected” by the Ackerman Clan, one of the most powerful yakuza clans in Neo Tokyo. Hange might own the place, but they pull the strings. Getting involved with them is bad news.” She gives you a foreboding look. “If you see them, keep your distance.”

“Are they in here often?”

“Of course they are. They’re always skulking around, checking in on their products.”

Historia clicks her tongue, a warning to Ymir. “They’re not that bad. Just smile, be polite, and pour their drinks and you won’t have any problems with them.” Ignoring Ymir's eye roll, she pulls out a dress and hands it to you. “Here, try this on.”

You start taking your clothes off, and the women around you stop and stare. Ymir laughs, and you notice that each of her teeth have been shaped to a sharp point.

“You’re just as normal as normal can be, aren’t you? Not a single augmentation.” She walks around you as you stand there, naked and bare as their eyes judge you. “All your…parts are…real?” she asks, lifting up your arm.

You pull away and grip the dress closer to you. “Augmentations are rare and expensive on earth.”

Ymir smirks and her carnivorous teeth flash. “Well…everybody has a kink. I’m sure someone will be interested in you.”

“Ymir, that’s enough!” Historia huffs, pushing the tall, freckled woman away. By then, you’ve shimmied into the garment Historia chose for you. The tight, red dress fits your form perfectly, falling off the shoulders and highlighting your collarbone and breasts. It’s long, but a slit cuts all the way up the top of your thigh. You’ve never worn anything so elegant.

Historia looks you up and down. “A little tight, but all the better.” She pulls you over to a dressing table. “Now for the finishing touches.” She takes out some makeup and starts applying powders and creams to your face. “Hange probably wants to keep you as human as possible, so we’ll keep it simple.”

Her version of simple was very different from what you were imagining, as she adorns your cheeks with pink blush and your lips with a dark red lipstick. Your hair cascades in waves across your shoulders.

When you look in the mirror you barely recognize yourself. 

“Is that me?” you ask, touching your radiant skin.

“I just enhanced what you already have. Hopefully, it’ll be good enough.” She stands and gives you another once-over, crossing her arms. “You’re still gonna stand out, but surely someone will be interested in you.”

Ymir walks by and chuckles. “This is gonna be interesting.” You scowl at her while she smiles smugly. “See you two out there,” she says, before sauntering away.

Historia takes you by the hand and leads you down a dark hall. Music is already reverberating through the walls and you can hear voices and laughter amidst the clink of glasses, which amplifies as she opens the door.

The bar is dimly lit, illuminated by a ceiling with an array of twinkling lights meant to look like the night sky. There are tables and booths with plush upholstery, some meant for larger groups while others are more private and intimate. A small stage is set up in the corner with a holographic band playing, and on the opposite end of the room, a long drink bar manned by Hange and another bartender. 

And dispersed throughout are men, some young, some old, but all well-dressed, sitting and drinking with a hostess or two.

“At a hostess bar, it’s not our bodies that are for sale, but our time and attention,” Historia says, leading you through the room. “They can request a certain girl, but otherwise, we are partnered with them as they come in.”

The two of you end up at the bar, where Historia gestures for you to sit. “For the time that they’re here, it’s our job to make the guest feel like they are wanted and important - we laugh at all their stupid jokes, listen to their problems at work or at home, or just help them to get their mind off things with conversation.”

Your eyes dart from table to table, taking note of the hostesses pouring drinks, laughing and leaning into their guests, playing drinking games, or having lively talks. One girl gets up and walks over to the stage, singing as the band plays a popular song that everyone at the table seems to know.

“And that’s it?” you ask. “There’s not…more…that goes on between the guest and the hostess?”

“You mean sex?” Historia leans her chin on her hand. “Hange forbids us having sexual relationships with our guests.” Her eyes dart over to Hange as they put some drinks on a tray. “Isn’t that right?”

“Absolutely correct, my beautiful turtle dove,” they reply. “Prostitution can be procured at other clubs, but not at my fine establishment. You can flirt, make eyes, touch…” their bright eyes suddenly become serious, “but no sex.”

A wave of relief washes over you when you hear this. It’s overwhelming enough to know that you’ll have men ogling you, expecting entertainment and companionship. At least that’s all it’s expected to be. 

While Hange busies themself with making another cocktail, Historia leans toward you and whispers, “It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen, though.” 

That doesn’t surprise you; if a hostess’ whole job is to flirt all night long, at some point the lines must get blurred with certain customers. And you can probably make a substantial bit of extra money in taking a relationship beyond the confines of this club. 

But that’s not why you’re here.

Hange pushes a tray of glasses and a bottle of alcohol across the bar to the two of you. “Ok, ladies, it’s showtime. Take these drinks over to table 12.”

Historia glances over to the table before taking the tray. “Ugh, it’s Lovof. Haven’t seen him here for a while.”

“Who’s Lovof?”

“A city councilman. We get a lot of politicians here.” 

The two of you make your way to the table where Lobov is sitting with two other men. You wipe your sweaty palms on your dress, feeling more nervous the closer you get.

“Just smile and pour drinks. I’ll take care of the rest,” Historia whispers, just before making it to the table. “Lobov! It’s been so long, I thought you’d forgotten about us!”

She slides into the booth next to Lobov, a true thing of beauty as she smiles and bats her big, blue eyes. Her skin sparkles even more under the dimmed lighting, making her look like a true angel.

You slide in on the opposite side, sitting next to Lovof’s colleagues, but neither of them pay any attention to you as Historia takes the bottle from its chilled container and pours the golden liquid into a sparkling glass. It’s only until Historia gestures to you that they look your way, a curious look on each of their faces.

“And this is Luna.” Historia’s voice is sweet and soft, matching her angelic persona. “It’s her first night, so I’m showing her how to be a good hostess.”

“Well then, she’s learning from the very best,” Lobov says, his snake-like eyes slinking from Historia to look you over. 

One of the men squints, then takes off his glasses to clean them with his shirt. “This plain-looking thing? Where in the galaxy did you find her?” he comments with a crude chuckle before turning away.

They’re bored with you already.

Get it together.

Don’t fuck this up.

You swallow hard, then take the bottle from Historia and pour a drink for the two unimpressed men.

Smile. Put on the mask.

“The story of why I’m not augmented is quite a tale,” your voice drips with flirtatious intrigue, “but perhaps it’s a tale better left for our second bottle, when I’m a little less nervous.”

The man next to you raises an eyebrow as you raise your glass. “In the meantime, I want to know everything there is to know about you fine gentlemen.” You smile, eyes sparkling in such a way that they almost rival Historia’s. “Kanpai.”

Lovof’s looks of confusion change to amusement as he joins you in raising his glass, the rest reflecting his actions.

“Kanpai!” the table responds.

By the third bottle, everyone is buzzed and relaxed. The alcohol coursing through you is helping you to feel less nervous, and has given you a confidence you’d only pretended to have before. The man next to you, Gelgar, has completely forgotten his other colleagues and is focused solely on you, while the other two are enraptured by Historia.

The attention makes you uncomfortable, everything within you wanting to escape this man’s gaze. But this is your job, you remind yourself. 

You’re not the same person you were on Earth. 

So you mirror your fellow hostess, pouring their drinks and leaning forward as they tell you about an upcoming election. Most of the time you have no idea what they're talking about, but you smile and nod, feigning to be enraptured by their words.

You’re good at pretending. You’ve been doing it your whole life.

There’s a glazed look in the men’s eyes and Historia shoots you a glance that tells you it’s time for them to call it a night. As the two of you escort them out of the bar, Lovof suddenly stops, turning to you.

“My darling, you never told us - why are you not augmented?”

Ah. You forgot you’d mentioned that. 

“Well…” you begin as you’re walking with them out of the club, “...my father was the leader of a cult and my mother was one of his many wives. It was commanded that his children never be augmented, as doing so would be an affront to God, who made the body. No needle or knife must ever blemish my skin.” 

A smile crawls across his face. “Intriguing. Absolutely intriguing…” You feel his eyes rove over your body in a way that feels violating. “I’d like to drink with you again, Luna.”

“She would be honored.,” Historia says, placing her hand on your back and guiding you to bow with her. “Please come visit us again soon.”

You both deeply bow then wave as the trio drunkenly walk to the black vehicle that pulled up for them. Only until they are out of view do you both turn away.

Historia takes your arm. “That story…is it really true?”

“Does it matter?”

Historia lets out an angelic laugh. “I think you’re going to do just fine here.” She walks arm-in-arm with you back into the bar. “You did well for your first time, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. I was nervous the entire time.” You allow yourself to smile - the first real smile you’ve had all night.

Historia’s words of praise flow through you as freely as the copious amounts of alcohol you’ve already consumed, both of them giving you courage as you stroll back into your new workplace. 

This isn’t too bad, you think to yourself.

You can do this.

You carry a newfound boldness as you and Historia walk up to Hange, who is waiting at the door. There’s a concerned, serious look in their eyes, much different from the happy, go-lucky persona you’d initially met. 

Hange pulls you both aside. “They’re back, Historia, and causing a ruckus. I’m sorry to do this to you and Luna, but will you two help with damage control for a few minutes while I call for some backup?” They press a small silver button on the back of their ear and walk away, not even waiting for a response.  As if either of you had a choice in the matter. 

You must have been too focused on your table’s patrons to realize the growing noisiness of the table in the center of the club. Now, it’s hard to notice anything else.  

Even from across the room, you can sense the chaotic energy of the group, a stark difference from the customers you’d just said goodbye to. The men are much younger than Lovof and his associates, their tacky suits and bright hair colors a stark contrast to the politicians you’d just entertained. They slap the table and yell curse words at each other, earning sideway glances from the others surrounding them. Empty bottles of alcohol litter their table; one of the men tries to milk the last few drops from one, but when there’s nothing left, he frowns.

“Oi! Another bottle! Make that two!” he curls his lip in disgust as he looks at his comrades slumped around the table. “This place has the shittiest service.”

Your newfound boldness shrinks with each step to their table.

“We just need to get them to settle down and then get them to leave,” Historia whispers, handing you a bottle. “Be polite, but don’t let them manhandle you.”

You put the mask back on, smiling as you and Historia both sit on either side of the booth.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Historia says, her voice still ringing calm and clear.

An arm immediately wraps around your shoulders the second you sit down, pulling you forcefully into him.

“Look at this - two more! We must be getting the V.I.P. treatment today, boys,” a man with long brown hair and green eyes shouts over the rest of the crowd.

Ever the essence of politeness, Historia pours the alcohol, a superficial smile never leaving her face.

“It’s our honor to serve you here at Club Azure,” is her meek reply. 

The two other hostesses copy Historia, just as you had done earlier, but behind their smiles are eyes that want to escape the situation as soon as possible. Although this is your first night and you still have much to learn, something feels different about this group of men; they are loud and arrogant, and their way of speaking is crude. It’s as if their entire goal is to make everyone uncomfortable. They continue to demand more alcohol and paw at the hostesses, downing bottle after bottle, their appetites insatiable.

All the while, the brunette man continues to clutch at you, his grip tight on your shoulder, keeping you from moving one inch. His suit reeks of alcohol and tobacco, and his breath is even worse when he finally decides to turn and speak to you. 

“I’ve never seen you here before.” 

He’s young, and there’s a wildness in his eyes, warning you to stay on his good side.

You attempt to shift away from him, but his arm is stronger than it looks. So you put on the mask and smile faintly. “I’m new. The name’s Luna.”

Seeming to be the ringleader of the group, you hope that light conversation will keep him preoccupied enough for help to arrive.

Whatever help that may be.

“Lunaaaaa…” he repeats, his tone heavy and foreboding. “You’re a non-aug.” He shifts his attention back to the other men at the table. “Look at this - we got ourselves a non-aug.”

You assume that means you’re not augmented. Will it be an intriguing curiosity, as it was in Lovof’s case? 

Or something far worse?

The men hoot and holler words that you aren’t familiar with, but you don’t need to be fluent in the Martian dialect to know the meanings of their slurs.

The other women look at you, brows knit, bodies frozen, each hesitant to intercede.

“Tell me, Luna,” his green eyes darken, moving down your body and stopping at the bare leg peeking out of the high slit of your dress, “is every part of you real?”

His grip on your shoulder grows even tighter as his free hand moves up your thigh. “Let’s find out, hm?”

Every fiber of your being is screaming to escape this man’s clutches. Your eyes flash to Historia, who attempts to stand up and walk to you, but is forced back down by one of the men. She sends you a helpless expression that even she is powerless to help you.

But you refuse to be powerless. Not ever again.

So you meet the man’s lustful gaze, and slap him hard across the face.

A look of shock sweeps over him, his pride hurt more than the sting in his cheek.

“Don’t you touch me,” comes your warning, willing your body and voice not to shake.

Time freezes for a moment, not a single person moving a muscle, until - 

– the back of his hand cracks against your cheekbone. 

It takes you a few seconds to realize what just happened, but before you can react, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look into his eyes.

“Bitch.” He squeezes tighter. “Do you know who I am?”

“Should I?” you manage to reply, despite the forceful grip on your cheeks.

His eyes fill with rage, getting even greener. “Nobody fucks with the Jaeger clan.”

“Oi.”

You hear a voice behind the two of you, cold as steel.

“Did you hear the lady? Hands off.”

You can’t move your head to see who’s talking, but your assailant does. “And who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who’s about to fuck with the Jaeger clan.”

Suddenly a hand grabs the back of the man’s collar and yanks him up, his body flying over the back of the booth and into another table. There are a few screams but then the club goes silent as all eyes watch what’s transpiring. 

Finally free, you look behind you to see a man in a navy blue suit. He walks closer to the other man, who’s scrambling up from the floor. There’s an incredible size difference between the two; this man in the blue suit is much shorter than the men that are now surrounding him, but it doesn’t seem to faze him in the least. 

Green eyes flash and the three other henchmen barrel towards the shorter man. It only takes a few seconds for two of them to be sprawled on the ground, barely conscious. The third grabs the lapels of his dark blue suit, but a hard knee to his groin has him joining his compatriots on the floor. 

“Bastard..” 

Now the only one standing, the brunette moves his hand toward the inner pocket of his jacket.

Something flashes into the hand of the smaller man. It seems to be a knife of some kind.

How did it appear so quickly?

“You pull out that piece and it’ll be the last thing your hand ever does,” the shorter man warns, his eyes laser-focused.

The other three men scurry off the floor and towards the club’s exit, but not before one of them grabs his friend by the shoulder. “Come on Eren, let’s get out of here. Your brother’s gonna kill us if this gets worse.”

The tall brunette man smirks then backs away with his hands up, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him.

“This isn’t over.” His eyes then flit to you as he straightens his suit jacket. “Fucking bitch,” he spits, before turning to leave.

It’s as if the whole club takes a collective sigh once the four men are finally gone. Historia is immediately at your side.

“Oh my god, Luna, are you alright? I’m so sorry..”

You can hear her words and feel her gentle hands touching your face, but all your attention is on the man standing before you. He buttons his suit jacket and runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back the few strands that came loose during the scuffle.

“Thank you so much, um…” your words hang in the air, waiting for a name.

His steel blue eyes look into yours - not at your body, not at the bruise you’re sure is growing by the second - but deep into your eyes, before looking away. 

It’s the first time you’ve felt someone look at you like you’re a person, not some oddity.

“Levi,” he finally answers in a low, cool voice. “And don’t thank me for doing my job.”

Before you can say more, he’s turned his back, disappearing into the darkness of the club. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Glossary of terms:

Yakuza - Japanese mafia

Kanpai - cheers!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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[probablyasocialecologist]

Where does this curious Hindutva-Zionist solidarity spring from? One origin is from the earliest Hindu nationalists who modelled their Hindu state on Zionism. Hindutva’s founder, Vinayak Damodar Savarkar, supported majoritarian nationalism and the rooting out of all disintegrating forces. These included Muslims who supported electoral quotas for their community and left-wing internationalists. As a result, he even condoned the Nazis’ antisemitic legislation in two speeches in 1938 because, as he saw it: “a nation is formed by a majority living therein”. Yet Savarkar was not antisemitic himself. He often spoke favourably of the tiny Jewish-Indian minority because he considered it too insignificant to threaten Hindu cohesion. In fact, Savarkar praised Zionism as the perfection of ethno-nationalist thinking. The way Zionism seamlessly blended ethnic attachment to a motherland and religious attachment to a holy land was precisely what Savarkar wanted for the Hindus. This double attachment was far more powerful to his mind than the European model of “blood and soil” nationalism without sacred space. Today, Hindu nationalists perpetuate this legacy and still look to Zionism as a uniquely attractive political ideology. To Hindu nationalists, some Zionists were engaged in a project to reclaim their holy land from a Muslim population whose religious roots in the region were not as ancient as their own.

[...]

In 2018, Israel passed a law that rebranded the country as “the nation-state of the Jewish people” and delegitimised its non-Jewish citizens. Similarly, India’s controversial Citizenship Amendment Act in 2019 eased paths to citizenship for immigrants from several religious groups, but not Muslims. Coupled with rhetoric associating millions of Indian Muslims with illegal immigration, human rights groups argue that this law could be used to strip many Muslims of their Indian citizenship. Hindu nationalists have also stoked a culture war to consolidate “Hindu civilisation” and sweep away symbols of Islam. This is very much in keeping with the wish of Israel’s far right to rebuild Solomon’s Temple on the site of the holy Temple Mount in Jerusalem, where al-Aqsa mosque compound currently sits. In 1969, a Zionist extremist burned the south wing of al-Aqsa. And in 1980, the fundamentalist group Jewish Underground plotted to blow up the Dome of the Rock, an Islamic shrine at the centre of the compound. A similar project of demolishing mosques and building temples in their place was suggested by Savarkar and Golwalkar. Hindu nationalist organisations focused their attention on Babri Masjid mosque in Ayodha, since this was the mythical birthplace of the Hindu god, Ram.

[dear-ao3]

So I'm anon to avoid doxxing myself with job information, but: I work in higher ed and am literally spending so much of my time on graduate education affordability right now. Unfortunately all three of our projects aren't public yet, so:

- master's or PhD? PhDs are often funded through research or teaching assistantships. Masters usually are not.

- are loans off the table, or is all federal funding off the table, e.g. but not limited to for citizenship reasons? There are lots of federal research grants.

- does this degree have a solid career path afterward, or is it a passion project?

- can you do it part-time and work?

-masters

-i’m not taking out any flavor loan of any kind. research grants and everything else are fine, just nothing i need to Pay Back (tho i am a us citizen who will be doing said masters program in another country)

-yes there is a career path (it expands on the current job i am doing, makes me more marketable etc etc)

-the program i’m doing is formulated for people to be able to work part or full time and still do it (but i will be in a different country, there’s limitations on how many hours i can do on a student visa)

[hindahoney]

How do you respond to people calling Israel an “apartheid ethnostate” ?

Block them and move on. I don't argue with antisemites. They've obviously never been to Israel to see it for themselves so they have no idea what they're talking about.

Israel is not an apartheid state, and people throw that word around as if they know what it means. They're all just repeating the same shit they've heard from Twitter. The term apartheid was used for South Africa, which prevented certain racial groups access to work and representation within the judicial and political systems, relegated them to inferior living and educational conditions, and controlled essentially every aspect and opportunity of their lives.

There are currently 10 Arab sitting members of knesset (if you don't know what that is, think of it like Israel's Congress), and there have been many former members as well. They're anything from Muslim, Christian, Druze, to Bedouin. The judge who prosecuted Israel's former PM is Arab. There are paths to citizenship for Palestinians, and Israel approves 14,000 permits to live and work from specifically Gaza every year. 20% of Israel's population are Arab, the majority of which identify as Palestinian by nationality and Israeli by citizenship. They're given the same rights as Jewish citizens of Israel, which cannot be said for the vast majority of Palestinians living in every single other Arab nation, who can typically only gain citizenship through marriage. Even their descendants who are born in these countries are not given citizenship, which prevents them from being able to work many jobs, leave the refugee camps, and buy property. Israel is the only country in the middle east that will give Palestinians a proper path to citizenship and thus quality of life outside of a refugee camp. They work and go to school alongside every other Israeli citizen. They also give automatic citizenship to any child born to an Israeli citizen, so if a non-citizen Palestinian were to have a child with a citizen, their child would still be an Israeli citizen.

None of that would be possible if Israel was an "apartheid" state. They would not be able to form their own political parties, much less participate in any form of government at all, would be made to go to separate schools, and ride separate public transportation, which does not happen in Israel. I'm not denying that Israel has issues with discrimination, but every other nation on the planet does too and they're not called apartheid.

Israel is under no obligation to Palestinians living under separate autonomous governments. Hamas is the government for Gaza, and Palestinian Authority is the government for the West Bank.

[longliveblackness]

Hidden History: The Southbound Path to Freedom

When we think of the history of slavery in Texas, Juneteenth in Galveston often comes to mind. However, historians Samuel Collins Ill and Dr. Juan Govea reveal a deeper story that predates Juneteenth by decades. Long before the Emancipation Proclamation, Hispanic abolitionists played a crucial role in helping enslaved people escape to Mexico.

In Texas, the Underground Railroad didn't just lead north; it also ran south. Mexico, having outlawed slavery, welcomed fugitive slaves, offering them freedom and citizenship.

This lesser-known chapter of history shows that enslaved people were not just waiting to be rescued. Many saved for years to pay for their escape to Mexico, demonstrating immense resilience and determination.

Marriages between Mexican men and enslaved African women further illustrate the deep bonds and solidarity in this fight for freedom.

Some who found freedom in Mexico went on to build successful lives. For example, a former slave of Sam Houston became a barber in Matamoros, while another rose to the rank of officer in the Mexican army.

These stories challenge us to broaden our understanding of the Underground Railroad and recognize the diverse efforts that contributed to the fight against slavery. Let's honor the courage and solidarity of those who took the southbound path to freedom, and those who assisted them.

•••

Historias Escondidas: El camino hacia la libertad en dirección al sur

Cuando pensamos en la historia de la esclavitud en Texas, Juneteenth o el Día de la Liberación es lo primero que cruza nuestras mentes. Sin embargo, los historiadores Samuel Collins Ill y Dr. Juan Govea, revelan una historia que sucedió muchas décadas antes del Día de la Liberación. Mucho antes de la Proclamación de Emancipación, los abolicionistas hispanos jugaron un papel crucial en ayudar a las personas esclavizadas a escapar hacia México.

En Texas, el Ferrocarril Subterráneo no solo se dirigía al norte, también se dirigía al sur. México, al ilegalizar la esclavitud, le daba la bienvenida a fugitivos esclavizados, ofreciéndoles libertad y ciudadanía.

Este capítulo de la historia de cual no muchos saben, demuestra que las personas esclavizadas no solo estaban esperando a ser rescatadas. Muchos ahorraron por años para pagar por su escape hacia México, demostrando que tenían inmensa determinación y resiliencia.

Los matrimonios entre hombres mexicanos y mujeres africanas esclavizadas, demuestran aún más los lazos profundos y la solidaridad en esta lucha por la libertad.

Algunos de los que encontraron libertad en México, construyeron vidas exitosas. Por ejemplo: uno de los antiguos esclavos de Sam Houston se convirtió en barbero estando en Matamoros, mientras que otro ascendió al rango de oficial en el ejército mexicano.

Estas historias nos desafían a ampliar nuestra comprensión sobre el Ferrocarril Subterráneo y a reconocer los diversos esfuerzos que contribuyeron a la lucha contra la esclavitud. Honremos la valentía y la solidaridad de quienes tomaron el camino del sur hacia la libertad y de quienes los ayudaron.

[justadeadreaper]

// OPERATOR-BIO: JACK-POT //

Man’s best friend, a creature that will be most loyal to its master, a dog, the word befitting of Makarov’s bodyguard. The only member of Konni or the Inner Circle that could be described as more loyal than Andrei to Makarov and his cause, a man who would do anything to see it come to life. No matter what was thrown at him, he always came back; no bullet or grenade could keep him down or dead for long as he would just get up again and fight once more; it is no surprise that he earned Makarov’s favour. A giant that uses his strength for the wrong cause. A man who sees what he does as a mission from God as he aims to build a new world, one that Makarov controls. A man who uses his talent to create technology to wipe out cities to forge a path to his only. A man who became the face of Konni, so at least if he was taken in, Makarov could still concoct what needed to be done. A man who smiles as he beats in the skull of his enemies. Makarov’s jackpot. 

Divider used, by: @mmadeinheavenn (Please support him as he made the amazing divider I will be using)

CALLSIGN: Jack-Pot

ALIASES: Behemoth (by Taskforce 141), Makarov’s (sometimes attack or guard) Mutt (by Makarov, Taskforce 141, and others), Nephelim (by Makarov’s associates), Big Bastard (by Soap)

CITIZENSHIP: Russian

LANGUAGE(S): English, French, Biblical Hebrew, Latin, Russian

FRACTION AFFILIATION: Konni, The Inner Circle, The Ultranationalist Party, Zakhaev's Arms

STATUS: Active

AGE: 29

NAME: [REDACTED] “Remus” Belladonna Matthew [REDACTED]

PLACE OF BIRTH: [REDACTED]

DATE OF BIRTH: 26.06.1995

SEX: [REDACTED] Male; [REDACTED]

BLOOD TYPE: O-

HEIGHT: 7’11”

WEIGHT: 503 to 533 Pounds

BUILD: Stocky, well built

SCARS, TATTOOS, AND MARKINGS: Healed skin grafting covering most of the left side of his body -predominantly on the front of his body even if it goes onto his back- from his face to his torso to his arms to his legs with a few patches dotted around the right side of his body, missing most of his left ear, teeth marks across his right hand, scars across his back that seems to be from something like a belt, a long surgical scar above his heart, surgical scars across his body (more specifically his knees, hips, ankles, and shoulders), scars from knife and bullet wounds across his body, scars across his right arm, a scar across his lower back around his tail bone that looks like something was carved off of his skin, a scar around all of his neck that has a crown of thorns above and below it, a massive snake tattoo that loops around his right leg to his back and chest with the head resting on his chest, a tattoo of a dog on the back calf of his left leg, a tattoo of a kingfisher styled queen chess piece on his right arm, a tattoo of a spider's web over his heart that is made of webbing and flowers (specifically forget-me-nots, bleeding hearts, larkspur, and lavender) with a redback spider resting on it, tattoos of thieves' stars by his collar bones onto his arm, a tattoo of a cathedral on his lower left back to the side of his torso, and a tattoo of the words 'Владимир Анатольевич Родион Макаров' on his V-line

HAIR: Just past his shoulders, extremely curly, ginger but with streaks of grey

EYES: Brown

COMPLEXION: Medium Beige to Medium Tan

RACE: [REDACTED]

NATIONALITY: [REDACTED]

OCCUPATION: Makarov’s bodyguard

[REDACTED] “Remus” Belladonna Matthew [REDACTED] was born to mother, [REDACTED] and father, [REDACTED] of the acclaimed [REDACTED] family of [REDACTED]. 

An unwanted child straight from the womb. [REDACTED] was given to his [REDACTED] at the young age of five with his [REDACTED], just like his [REDACTED] before him, after suffering years of abuse. The reason given was due to the fact of him being a [REDACTED] instead of the “normal” son they wanted. An extreme bond formed between the only three people who he knew to love him as his two [REDACTED] lived under the tyrannically religious rule of their [REDACTED] even if she loved them like her own children even. An unhealthy bond formed with religion from that point acting as more of a reason to live than a lifestyle as it was one of the true comforts they could afford as he grew to develop an unhealthy view of relationships and how to act in them as none of them stopped him.

[REDACTED]. Giving him nearly all the scars that riddle his body and leading him to run away at the age of sixteen.

[REDACTED]. 

That was until he met the acclaimed Vladimir Makarov. A deal was made between the two, in exchange for protection, he would work for the terrorist doing any act that the leader asked of him. [REDACTED].

[REDACTED].

Despite the eccentric, terrifying persona he plays when out in front of the public as he performs another terrorist act for Makarov whether it be blowing up another building or crushing a man's skull, when he is with his men he is known to still be terrifying but also a caring and somewhat goofy leader as neither Andrei or Makarov want to deal with every little complaint that they had.

Every team bonding activity is planned by him as Makarov sees it as a waste of time but he knows that forming strong bonds is extremely useful in the world he has found himself in where it is not uncommon to find themselves being stabbed in the back. He listens and resolves their problems as he earns their trust to seem like a genuine, caring leader, but to him, it is not as genuine as everyone thinks it to be. Yes, he cares about his men but he learnt from his family and from living this life for so long to never be attached and to always gain people’s love for when you need to use it. An optimist on the outside but a true pessimist deep down, but he has learnt to bury those feelings long ago. The only people he has ever shown his genuine true side to, the caring, soft, but funny side is what is left of his family and his best friend Infrared who knows to look past the terrifying act he puts on.

The only other notable thing that most Konni soldiers have learnt about their unofficial leader is his morals, hatred of Milena, and undying loyalty to Makarov. They have watched how he rapidly goes to defend Makarov and kill any man who has been disloyal before running off to check on their Komandir; it is why they all believe that Makarov trusts him the most out of all as he knows that Jack-Pot will be loyal to his death like Makarov is holding something against him even after all the years that Jack-Pot has so effectively served him. They have watched his side eyes and scoffs whenever Milena talks or tries to command someone and how he so easily argues with her to the point of having a game with Infrared where they throw stuff (mainly slippers or flipflops) at Milena whenever she walks by, but in the end he has to let her do what she wants as she is his Komandir’s wife -even if she is the only one who can not see that Makarov only married her for her money and not because he loved her- and he hates to disappoint Makarov as it physical pains him.

What he has left of morals has been crafted by his faith and upbringing. They all know that he will refuse to do certain things as it is against his teachings and he has rules for his soldiers based on his own beliefs whether it be to not desecrate a corpse but instead give them a proper burial or to turn the other cheek unless it is so disagreeable that violence is needed. Most do not mind as he does not force them to participate in his religion with him but they have grown to understand that he will not break his morals unless Makarov calls for it; they all know he feels enough Catholic guilt for other things and do not want to make it worse.

-One item of clothing you will never see him without is his rosary; it is normally tucked beneath his shirt so that it will be pulled on whenever he is in a fight but when casually around base he tends to have it out on display. The rosary has been in his family for countless generations, which can be seen by how the gold and ivory have gone dull but to him, it is one of the most important items in his life that once when a recruit had made the foolish decision to steal it he had beaten their brain in with his fists before putting the rosary back around his neck. It was a warning to others who were forced to witness the twitching body of their fallen comrade as he lived through his final moments while Jack-Pot walked off to pray.

-Unlike what his size would make you believe, he is incredibly smart. He is known to even give Makarov advice when his Kommandir is concocting their next plan, but his intelligence is most clear when he relaxes in his workshop surrounded by his inventions. A savant when it comes to anything mechanical. Makarov paid for his robotics, engineering, and mechanics degrees when he saw the potential that Jack-Pot exhibited when he was able to fix up a getaway car in a matter of no time. Makarov still pays for any degree Jack-Pot requests to do that relates to machinery as it only means they will have access to more complex machinery; it also means that it keeps the giant busy even if it seems like he gets through them in no time. Nearly everything mechanical on the base is made by Jack-Pot, from the security cameras (which he watches and treats like they are a live-action soap opera) to the air conditioning and heating systems that make the base just a little less unbearable. His skills are that trusted that he was even allowed to make the robotic prosthetic for Makarov and control the device that lets the arms do certain actions.

-He has a love of orchestral music, that any song he likes he will try to find an orchestral version of it, but if he can not find an orchestral version, he will normally settle for an instrumental version. He can not explain why he does not like the vocals of a song; he just shrugs and says that he has been like it since he was a child; the only exceptions to this rule were his older brother and grandmother, whose singing he adored but they normally sung hymns and nothing more. Despite his lack of love for hearing people sing, he is a talented singer even if he does not sing often; the only few times people have heard him sing is when he thinks he is alone or when he is dragged into singing by a drunk Makarov when Konni are celebrating another victory. His musical abilities are not just restricted to singing but also are extended to the piano as he is a very talented player who can play any song he wishes too after enough practice. Although, he loves Bruno Mars. It seems to be one of the only musicians he can listen to sing and there is a joke that if you catch Jack-Pot in the middle of the night raiding the Konni fridges that you will be hearing him sing one of Bruno Mars’ songs or another guilty pleasure song on his playlist.

-Despite his size, he is impressively fast and flexible. It is common to see him do stretches before all of his workouts as he tries his best to keep his flexibility from when he was much younger and smaller. When he was a child to a teenager he used to do ballet and still knows how to do some of the routines from when he was younger as it was always something he enjoyed as it first got him into fitness. He also trains his speed as he does not want to be slowed down by his size as he has learnt from prior instances and Makarov that a few seconds can be a matter of life or death.

-Although he hates to admit it, he is quite deaf and blind with his left eye and left ear suffering the most. He wears an “earpiece” in his left ear which is actually a cochlear implant that Makarov had paid for him to have which allows for him to make use of what is left of his left ear. When he takes the outer piece off he becomes deaf to the world in his left ear with his right ear being only a bit better that most at Konni know to either use sign language or shout loud enough for him to hear. Meanwhile, his left eye is his biggest blind spot due to not bein able to see through most of it and the bits he can see being blurry; when reading or building another invention he wears glasses so the blurriness does not stop him from doing what he loves.

-If you were to look up the definition of a hopeless romantic you would see his face as the first thing that pops up. Due to his religious upbringing and the only books he had as a child being passed down fairytales where the prince and princess get their happy ending it gave him a distorted view of love where he wants the happy little family of a partner and children where he gets to adore his partner endlessly and they adore him just as much. This has also led him to be quite... obsessive when he falls in love to the point of doing anything for the person he adores as they become his drug as he always chases the happy pipe dream he was sold.

-No one has ever heard his real accent. It has been noted by soldiers higher in Makarov’s favour and rankings that he has one “real” accent when talking to Makarov but two other accents when speaking to his main “assosiate”. When speaking to Konni soldiers or any other member of the public he puts on a Russian accent but the people who have heard his other accents have described them to either be British or American. The few brave souls that have brought it up to Makarov due to their concerns have either mysteriously disappeared, been sent on suicide missions, or were left terrified that they never wanted to speak about it again.

-Apart from the professional trainers Makarov brings in, Jack-Pot also helps to train the dobermans. While the professionals train them to attack the enemies with no remourse, Jack-Pot trains them to be loving dogs towards him, Makarov, and other Konni soldiers that are not deemed as traitors. The dobermans are like his babies as he has given each one a name for when they are with him apart from ‘Attack Dog Number 7’ and has beds for them in his office and in the blank space that he calls a bedroom.

-His love of animals is not only reserved for the dobermans that Konni have on base and conventional pets but it expands to unconventional pets as well, particularly snakes. Connected to his workshop is a room reserved just for his pet snakes where he has made extremely large vivariums with his own hands for them to live in. He has dozens of different types of snakes from none venomous to extremely venomous that Makarov has let him collect over the years. He uses the venom of his snakes on people that they are torturing for information; diluting the mixture as much as he can so that it hurts but does not kill the person. He also has the horrendous habit to put the less venomous snakes into Milena’s room so they can have some exploration time even if he knows Milena is terrified of snakes as he despises the woman. But, on a more “wholesome” note, he likes to wear the none venomous and more friendly snakes around his neck like a scarf when walking around base on a sunday doing chores as the only one who does not have to work; especially his absolute favourite Big Bertie a Burmese python that Makarov gifted him for his birthday one year to keep the giant company.

-Due to his size and needing to eat tons upon tons of calories he has learnt to be an amazing cook if you have a spice tolerance like his. As he needs a lot of protein and carbs to keep up his physique he has learnt how to butcher all kinds of meats and cook them in all different kinds of ways so he is able to get everything he needs without getting bored of his meals. He is best at grilling the meats on a grill or frying them but tends to stick to the later as it is easier to make bigger batches that way when he wants to share with other Konni soldiers who are fed up of the base’s food or do not want to be poisoned by Milena’s slop. He even knows vegan meals with high amounts of protein and other nutrients so he can have it on a friday but these meals tend to be more relaxed and cheat meals as he loves to fry the mushrooms he uses as a replacement for chickens.

-Anyone who wants to get on his good side or bond with him knows that the best thing to do is not give him some form of alcohol like every other soldier on that base but to instead sit down with him to watch whatever shitty soap drama he has found. He absolutely adores watching them no matter which country it comes from or how shitty it is as long as it is dramatic and has the craziest of twists in the love category. His most notable favourites are some telenovelas he saw when he had been dragged along to Mexico to talk to a cartel leader to ask to make an alliance with her or some old ones he found on VHS in Makarov’s mother’s face after he stayed to help her clean up after fixing her severely outdated freezer and improving it.

-Like anyone of his size he is constantly warm which has caused him to much prefer cold environments to hot ones. He has no issue walking around base in a compression shirt and sweatpants or even going into the snow with just those clothes on to go fetch something that blew away while others at Konni have to go outside in at least three layers to walk through the Antarctic weathers of the land of the barren, snowy part of Russia where the base presides. If you are ever cold he would give you his jacket as he is always “too warm” in his own opinion and he does not mind it when others stay closer to him to keep warm from the heat he radiates. However, even if he tans impecicably and can stand the heat he still hates it. Yes, he can last in the heat without complaining outwardly but it makes him feel uncomfortable and makes his headaches worse as he is already naturally warm but if you bet him that he could not stay out in the Sun then he is staying out there tanning to just prove you wrong even if he needs to take enough paracetamol to euthanise a horse to deal with his headache.

‘С нами Бог.’

‘I know a few cannibals we could send them too. My main associate hasn’t tried gangster flesh yet, I think. Why are you all looking at me like that?’

'Time walks in hands with the Devil as they eat all of God's children, there is no changing fate unless you want to disregard God's plans, we’ll all die in the end whether we agree to it or not. It's why we make the most with the time we have; we make the biggest impact. We let our legacy dictate how this Earth will turn out even if it means we will have thousands of corpses laying that path.'

'A dog that has only known beatings for its whole life will only know to bite. Any man that comes near will be bitten. It knows it can only fight to survive. Its maw is its weapon; it's what it knows it needs to survive. But, to muzzle it will cause it to whimper in fear.'

'Showing a beaten dog some kindness will change its life. A loving hand compared to an abusive hand that feeds seems like Heaven. It will become loyal to that hand even if it becomes abusive as that was the only thing they knew to be kind.'

'Any man that is kind enough can create a deadly weapon. His dog will be loyal to the core. It will attack anything that tries to hurt the man. Using the maw for fighting to now protect. It will give its life for its new master even if it means they will never run free again.'

‘Breathe... breathe... just breathe and calm your arse down. We’re out of it now, we aren’t going back to it. Nothing will drag us back.’

‘Did the dingo set you up for this? Sorry love but I’m not a big fan of azaleas, more of a lavender man myself.’

'You missed? Again?! Next time I'll crush your skull to use the fragments for bullets!’

‘Nice arm you have here. Pretty tattoos as well. I’m sure you don’t mind me taking this back for my Komandir.’

‘If I hear that those Brits and Scots have blown up another one of my gardens I will personally go to their base and blow up everything!’

'You think a little bullet will hurt me? Hehe, Komandir's put me through worse.' 'I’m going to go pray. I need you all to stay here for two minutes while I ask God to give me patience since if he gives me any more strength, I’m going to kill all of you.'

'Why should I pay a few thousand rubles for this crap?! I can go home and by next week I'll have it done and I'll have only paid a few hundred max. ...robbing bastards.' 'Shhhh, I need you to quieten down. Komandir is cold. He needs the world to burn to stay warm and fat burns so easily.'

'Make me a promise, okay? If you have to lay me to rest before they put us both in our final places, remember, if you bother to give me a headstone, plant an apple tree behind it and lavender around it. I want to know that when you miss me that you'll visit and I can still provide you with help to sleep and I'll still be able to feed you. I'll always l...care for you even when I'm in Hell.'

Normal; Due to being one of the highest-ranking soldiers at Konni he wears an identical uniform to Andrei except for the fact that everything in the uniform from the groin protector to the compression shirt to the vest has been tailored to accommodate his gigantic size. The biggest difference between the two uniforms can be seen with the mask that Jack-Pot wears and the small additions that have been added. He wears a choker around his neck that holds his microphone with additional patches across his uniform apart from the Konni patch to display his rank. Meanwhile, his mask is based on the skull of a wolf as it lays on his face in two pieces, the lower jaw bone that moves with his own jaw and the upper piece, which takes more liberty in its design but looks like the face of a wolf, that is attached separately so that it can stay in place which allows him to still use his teeth when attacking enemies in close combat.

Casual; Based on what he wears when he is on base and not working as he prefers to wear something simple and comfortable which just so happens to be a very basic pair of grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he had Konni’s tailors personally make or he would be forced to go around naked.

Medusa; Based on its namesake, with this skin, he wears a white floor-length chiton that goes over the left shoulder and leaves the top right side of his torso exposed to show off the head of the snake tattoo as it curls around his body. Between the curls of hair now lay king cobras with some curling around his neck that will spit venom at anyone he commands as the scales on the snakes match the scales that now lay in place of the skin graft. While around his ankles and wrists are now golden chains that lead to somewhere...

Seraphim; Based on his deep ties to his religion in this skin he is the biblically accurate depiction of an Angel, specifically a Seraphim. He is dressed in a mixture of both white and red robes similar to the chiton he wears in the Medusa skin with golden chains coming from both his wrists and from under the robe. He has six pairs of wings, one main pair with a smaller pair above and below it -the top pair can be used to hide his face- as golden eyes cover the wings and cover parts of his body. His hair is replaced by flames as his tattoos are now made of golden while he cries golden tears.

The Bear; Based on his more feral side in this skin all he wears is a pair of bloodied combat trousers with no shirt at all as to show off his pecs and the tattoos and scars that riddle his chest as it is also covered in blood. Replacing his wolf mask is instead a bear skin with the paws attached to his arms with the rest of the pelt trailing down his back and the bear’s head on top of his own head which obscures his eyes.

The General; Based on what I imagine him to look like in an AU where he is a General for Zakhaev and much older, his hair is filled with more greys with more wrinkles across his face as he wears a traditional General’s uniform -the hat, jacket, shirt, and trousers- in black paired with black leather gloves and a black cloak with a gold chain and clasps that keep it on his shoulders and a gun holster on his belt.

The King; To be paired with a Makarov skin I have thought of that suits him, this skin is based on the king piece in chess. With this skin, he is decorated in ornate golden armour that is decorated with jewels and engravings and a crown upon his head as the armour is fashioned to resemble the king chess piece.

Purple Nymph; Based on the Nymphs of Greek mythology he is completely naked but sexless in this skin as his tattoos are now different shades of purple with his hair now being made up of the hyacinths and lavender that also bloom out of his skin and petals spill out from between his lips.

[pigeonflavouredcake]

How to organise a grimoire

This is how I've decided to organise my grimoire now that I'm digitising it. I thought this may be of some benefit to other autistic/dyslexic practioners by sharing how my brain likes to formulate things. The trick is to categorise.

I have one large category I'm calling the chapter and every chapter has a number of categories within it and smaller sub categories underneath each one.

So my brain basically works like a russian nesting doll or like a very messy spider diagram. Organising it this way helps me to stay on track and stops me from getting overwhelmed. (I used this method in all my university essays and it helped push my grade up a lot).

I'm not writing it in any specific order but here's a list of what I've completed so far. Please feel free to take any of these. I hope this helps you with your own grimoire writing.

Theory 📚

Terminology

Paganism: historical context. Modern context. Core values.

New Age Spirituality: Development. Capitalism. Modern Example.

Cultural Appropriation: What it is. How it happens. How to avoid it. List of closed practices and red flags.

Wicca: What it is. How it's practiced. Gerald Gardner. Criticisms.

Thelema: Aleister Crowley. Development (egyptomania). Criticisms.

Conspiracy Theories: Development (root cause). Dangers. Examples. List of spiritual conspiracies. List of antisemitic stereotypes and propaganda.

Cults: What are they. How are they dangerous. How to recognise one (B.I.T.E model). List of religious/spiritual cults.

Satanic Panic: Historical development to our current satanic panic. The 1980's moral panic. Christian persecution complex.

KJV: Who was King James. The creation of the KJV. The KJO movement (evangelical and Christian fundamentalism. American Folk magic)

Witches in context: The modern witch. The post-modern witch. Historical context (England. Ancient Greece. Ireland).

Cats in context: Modern context. Familiars. Historical context (Egypt. Greece. China. England).

Transphobia: the idea behind terfism. How to recognise a terf. Examples of Terfism in spirituality (Lister). Dispelling myths and Misinformation.

Queerness: Erasure and queerphobia. Why queer people gravitate to witchcraft/paganism/Wicca. Examples (intersex. Gay relationships. Lesbian relationships. Asexuality).

Practical Basics 🔮

Terminology

Health and Safety: Fire. Smoke. Essential Oils. Toxicity. Wound Care. Biohazards.

How to make a magical space: What they are. Different types. Tools and their uses.

Grimoire/Book of Shadows: What they are. The differences. Different Formats. The Front cover.

Cleansing: What it is. What its used for. Examples.

Grounding: What it is. What its used for. Examples.

Protection: What it is. What its used for. Examples.

Intuition: What it is. What its used for. Developing it. Examples.

Discernment: What it is. What its used for. Steps of discernment (from a Christian perspective. From a secular perspective). Psychosis.

The Year and the holidays: Samhain. Yule. Wassailing. Imbolc. Spring Equinox. Beltaine. Summer Solstice. Lughnasadh. Autumn Equinox. (Historical development. How they're celebrated).

Deity Worship: Scientific Context (Neuroscience of Religiosity). Spiritual Context. Worship Vs working with. Finding a deity. Your religious rights. Critiquing your religious path. For example ↓

Hellenism: Historical context (Wars. Colonisation. Slavery. Citizenship. Pederasty). Modern Context (White washing. Transphobia).

Your Deities (if you choose to have any): Iconography. Mythology. Associations. Offerings.

Spirits: Ghosts. Shadow people. Demons (what they are. fear and labelling. History Vs pop culture). The Warrens (history. Criticisms). Other folklore.

Practical Magic ✨

I have a lot more planned for this section.

Terminology

Divination: What it is. What its used for. List of types and tools. For example ↓

Tarot: Structure of the tarot deck. Historical context. Modern Context. The fool and you.

Basic Astrology: What it is. Historical Context. Signs. Planets. Houses. Reading a natal chart.

Colour Magic: Basic colour theory. Symbolism. Practical application.

Correspondence 🌿

When there's a long list of items and spiritual meanings/applications I keep it in this section at the back of my grimoire.

Colours

Symbols

The Classic Elements

Astrology

Stones

Herbs and Spices (kitchen cupboard specific)

Common plants in your area (invasive and non invasive)

Seasonal fruit and vegetables

Miscellaneous laws and philosophies