#small government liars

[geezerwench]

Republican "small government" passed yet another law. In Montana, state lawmakers passed a bill, SB419, banning TikTok. Completely. For everyone, not just state employees. Next, it goes to the governor's desk for signing.

----

"Montana became the first US state on Friday to pass legislation banning TikTok on all personal devices, sending a bill to Gov. Greg Gianforte prohibiting TikTok from operating within state lines and barring app stores from offering TikTok for downloads." - - CNN

Get you a VPN, gentles and ladymen.

[lets-steal-an-archive]

By Bernie Sanders | July 13, 2024

I will do all that I can to see that President Biden is re-elected. Why? Despite my disagreements with him on particular issues, he has been the most effective president in the modern history of our country and is the strongest candidate to defeat Donald Trump — a demagogue and pathological liar. It’s time to learn a lesson from the progressive and centrist forces in France who, despite profound political differences, came together this week to soundly defeat right-wing extremism.

I strongly disagree with Mr. Biden on the question of U.S. support for Israel’s horrific war against the Palestinian people. The United States should not provide Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing extremist government with another nickel as it continues to create one of the worst humanitarian disasters in modern history.

I strongly disagree with the president’s belief that the Affordable Care Act, as useful as it has been, will ever address America’s health care crisis. Our health care system is broken, dysfunctional and wildly expensive and needs to be replaced with a “Medicare for all” single-payer system. Health care is a human right.

And those are not my only disagreements with Mr. Biden.

But for over two weeks now, the corporate media has obsessively focused on the June presidential debate and the cognitive capabilities of a man who has, perhaps, the most difficult and stressful job in the world. The media has frantically searched for every living human being who no longer supports the president or any neurologist who wants to appear on TV. Unfortunately, too many Democrats have joined that circular firing squad.

Yes. I know: Mr. Biden is old, is prone to gaffes, walks stiffly and had a disastrous debate with Mr. Trump. But this I also know: A presidential election is not an entertainment contest. It does not begin or end with a 90-minute debate.

Enough! Mr. Biden may not be the ideal candidate, but he will be the candidate and should be the candidate. And with an effective campaign taht speaks to the needs of working families, he will not only defeat Mr. Trump but beat him badly. It’s time for Democrats to stop the bickering and nit-picking.

I understand that some Democrats get nervous about having to explain the president’s gaffes and misspeaking names. But unlike the Republicans, they do not have to explain away a candidate who now has 34 felony convictions and faces charges that could lead to dozens of additional convictions, who has been hit with a $5 million judgment after he was found liable in a sexual abuse case, who has been involved in more than 4,000 lawsuits, who has repeatedly gone bankrupt and who has told thousands of documented lies and falsehoods.

Supporters of Mr. Biden can speak proudly about a good and decent Democratic president with a record of real accomplishment. The Biden administration, as a result of the American Rescue Plan, helped rebuild the economy during the pandemic far faster than economists thought possible. At a time when people were terrified about the future, the president and those of us who supported him in Congress put Americans back to work, provided cash benefits to desperate parents and protected small businesses, hospitals, schools and child care centers.

After decades of talk about our crumbling roads, bridges and water systems, we put more money into rebuilding America’s infrastructure than ever before — which is projected to create millions of well-paying jobs. And we did not stop there. We made the largest-ever investment in climate action to save the planet. We canceled student debt for nearly five million financially strapped Americans. We cut prices for insulin and asthma inhalers, capped out-of-pocket costs for prescription drugs and got free vaccines to the American people. We battled to defend women’s rights in the face of moves by Trump-appointed jurists to roll back reproductive freedom and deny women the right to control their own bodies.

So, yes, Mr. Biden has a record to run on. A strong record. But he and his supporters should never suggest that what’s been accomplished is sufficient. To win the election, the president must do more than just defend his excellent record. He needs to propose and fight for a bold agenda that speaks to the needs of the vast majority of our people — the working families of this country, the people who have been left behind for far too long.

At a time when the billionaires have never had it so good and when the United States is experiencing virtually unprecedented income and wealth inequality, over 60 percent of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, real weekly wages for the average worker have not risen in over 50 years, 25 percent of seniors live each year on $15,000 or less, we have a higher rate of childhood poverty than almost any other major country, and housing is becoming more and more unaffordable — among other crises.

This is the wealthiest country in the history of the world. We can do better. We must do better. Joe Biden knows that. Donald Trump does not. Joe Biden wants to tax the rich so that we can fund the needs of working families, the elderly, the children, the sick and the poor. Donald Trump wants to cut taxes for the billionaire class. Joe Biden wants to expand Social Security benefits. Donald Trump and his friends want to weaken Social Security. Joe Biden wants to make it easier for workers to form unions and collectively bargain for better wages and benefits. Donald Trump wants to let multinational corporations get away with exploiting workers and ripping off consumers. Joe Biden respects democracy. Donald Trump attacks it.

This election offers a stark choice on issue after issue. If Mr. Biden and his supporters focus on these issues — and refuse to be divided and distracted — the president will rally working families to his side in the industrial Midwest swing states and elsewhere and win the November election. And let me say this as emphatically as I can: For the sake of our kids and future generations, he must win.

Bernie Sanders is the senior senator from Vermont.

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat 10 part 1/2

Chapter 10 : Calling from Hell just to say the demons are suspiciously absent, is that fine?

masterpost

“Fucking Batman,” Val said under her breath. Her Red Huntress mask muffled the words and made them come out even meaner than she probably meant them. “Years late and too little, even if he’s not working with the GIW.”

Sam hefted her requisitioned Fenton bazooka and pressed her lips even further together. None of them liked this at all. It stank. It was suspicious. Danny hadn’t sounded distressed, but he’d been out of contact too long for such a short conversation to put her at ease. There hadn’t even been time to update him on what had gone on in Amity Park.

“There.” Sam followed Val’s pointer finger to see the nearly invisible outline of a jet in the faint light. It was landing in the right field. 

“It’s them or it’s a trap,” Sam muttered.

Val let out a mean laugh. “If it’s someone we don’t expect, they’re the ones in trouble.”

Sam huffed and said nothing. She couldn’t disagree, but Val seemed too confident for her comfort. They waited in tense silence to see the jet come to a landing. Not long after, a hatch popped open and the distinctive ears of Batman himself were the first out into the cold night air of a January night in Amity Park. 

He was quickly followed by smaller figures- 1, 2, 3 of them. Sam felt nerves churning in her gut. She tried to channel them into aggression. She had to be tough, tougher than usual. There was no cavalry waiting to help out.

Well, there was Tucker, but he was probably going to be more useful in the wings to feed them information. He was pretty good aim with a thermos but that wouldn’t do jack about Batman and a small flock of, what, junior associates?

“Does Batman work with children?” Sam asked under her breath. One of them was genuinely small.

Tucker snickered on the other end of the line. “Uh,  there’s supposed to be a Robin. Guy in yellow, green, and red I guess? Aside from that, there’s debatably like, 6 former Robins associated with him. But there’s also the Justice League’s junior varsity team, so it’s hard to say.”

She frowned at the lineup. She saw purple, black, and red. There was- yeah, okay, there was quite a bit of yellow when the little guy faced them, but she didn’t see any green.

“Showtime,” Val said. Sam crouched further behind cover as the other girl zoomed out on her hoverboard, effortlessly drawing Batman’s eye. She adjusted the dial on her sound settings to hear Val’s feed just a little louder.

“Batman.”

“You have me at a disadvantage.” Sam cringed at the gravely voice over her sound system. Batman sounded like he smoked a pack a day. She turned the volume down just a hint.

“Not really, there’s four of you,” Val said breezily. Sam suppressed a snort at the dodge. “You wanna meet Jazz Fenton? You’re going to have to prove that you’re not a plant. There’s a GIW facility-”

“Two miles west of here, yes,” Batman interrupted. “I researched.”

“Great. Do you have ground transport?”

“Of course. What is it that you expect me to prove?”

“That you’re not with them.” The subtle whine of Valerie’s weapons started up. Sam only heard it because she was hooked up to the helmet. “They do experimentation and keep prisoners. Show me that you’re not a cop.”

“The police would not support the capture and abuse of people.”

Valerie made a skeptical sound in the back of her throat. Sam couldn’t blame her. “Yeah, but they do.” Her hoverboard’s jet whooshed up in power. “Meet me there, outside the main gate.” She was off like a shot in the dark. 

The four out of towners didn’t take long to get four silent motorcycles out and dash down the lane. Sam thought about what she’d heard as she cut a more direct route on Valerie’s spare hoverboard, taken from Vlad’s deserted mechanics lab. 

Either Batman was a liar, naive, or he was exactly what they were worried he might be. The Justice League was famously affiliated with governments. Wonder Woman was even a member of the United Nations! If someone accepted the claim that Infinite Realms Residents weren’t really people, then they’d say just what Batman had. It wasn’t lying if you didn’t think the people you were hurting were really people.

Sam watched from a distance as the group reached the gated facility. One of Batman's people did something that unlatched the electronic security system. It swung open. 

“Not shabby,” Tucker said quietly. “I coulda done it faster.”

“Not unless it goes off the rails,” Sam reminded him. She clenched a fist against her thigh. They needed to see Batman's real colors before they risked him knowing about their group. It was hard to outplan what you didn't know about, and they'd need every advantage they could get. 

She let them all go ahead before she followed onto the property. It was eerily deserted, tire tracks where dozens of white Vans ought to have been. 

The GIW had deserted Amity Park weeks ago. They were pretty sure there was a skeleton crew stationed out here, but no one came and left anymore. They only occasionally saw an agent wander across the path of a security camera, which were sparse inside the building.

But that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous to be here. Even now, a camera swiveled over the lawn, blinking a clear light that was easy to miss during the day. There was a reason that they hadn't risked a second raid after Danny had barely made it out last time. 

Sam swallowed, hard. The bitterness in her mouth felt a lot like guilt. Who knew what the GIW had been doing? They could have someone else held captive. It was a big building. Danny might have missed someone when he was breaking Vlad out. 

‘We did what we could, and we are making a move now.’ 

She repositioned her weapon and waited, tense with nerves. All she was meant to do now was follow along via what she heard on Val's comms and be in the wings to facilitate an escape, if needed. 

“Left,” said Batman quietly. The comms were quiet for a long moment, then- “clear. Clear. Clear.” 

Sam shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 

“Red Robin.” 

“Got it,” came a response, barely audible. Val must have been hanging close to Batman, then. 

“You think now's a good time to try their computers?” Val said helpfully. 

Tucker snorted. “Could just ask,” he sang to himself, cocky as hell. “I know all.”

Sam rolled her eyes. He didn't know all. About half of the property was disconnected from the security system, meaning they had no eyes on whatever was down there. 

“Six stationed here.” 

That had to be Red Robin’s voice. Sam cocked her head and focused on it, frowning slightly. Did it sound young?

Tucker's computer chair made a click when he sat up too fast. “Wait, what? How'd-” His end of the line devolved into rapid typing. 

“Did you find a schedule?” 

“No, it's not in the system. They're on paper, I suppose.” Seconds passed. “My bet is that labs would be in this wing.” 

“Be my guest,” Val drawled. Sam could all but see her crossing her arms across her chest. 

The line went silent for a while. Then, faintly, there came the sound of a metal door opening. 

“Fu-” A GIW blaster went off. “Intru-”

The alarm was cut off before the GIW goon got out a full word, but odds were good he'd been heard anyway. Sam flexed her hands. Sitting this out sucked. She wanted to see what was happening. How many agents were there?

“Robin!” Batman snapped. 

‘The little one?’

Sam felt vaguely ill. They had to be okay. This was Batman’s team.

[itmeblog]

It's Black History Month

(Over here in the US of A) So here are some podcasts to check out.

Absolutely no Adventures - a fantasy (un)adventure story that follows Sig, the owner of Signature Eats bakery, as he aggressively avoids becoming embroiled in any daring quests or chosen one shenanigans even though the universe really seems to want him to do just that. This is a story about cutting Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey off at the knees to chill with friends and staying far, far away from the slightest whiff of adventure. And also baking. This is also a story about baking.

Afflicted - Lovecraft Country meets True Blood in this new series from award-winning producers Tonia Ransom and Jen Zink. In season one, a small East Texas town suffers supernatural disasters caused by a demonic book bound in human flesh…and only hoodoo can save the town from its affliction.

Apollyon - In the early 22nd century, the Apollyon virus wiped out 75% of the world’s population, and now most of the world is governed by the International Conglomerate of Research Scientists. Dr. Theo Ramsey is an ICRS research scientist who may have just discovered an effective vaccine for Apollyon, but the stakes to get the vaccine to the public are higher than she ever imagined.

Between Heartbeats - Tan immersive Urban Fantasy about the hurt, the powerful, and their growth within a broken world. We follow Sundiata, a guilt-ridden time manipulator with a knack for unemployment, and Nadia, a moralistic telepath determined not to lose control, as they balance frayed mental health against an unsympathetic police state. But when a malevolent presence rears is head, their neuroses become the least of their problems. Can our heroes make the most of their abilities before the option is taken from them?

Fan Wars: The Empire Claps Back - Two passionate Star Wars fans on opposite sides of the Last Jedi debate argue via Skype after their favorite forum closes down. If you love Star Wars (or call yourself a proud member of any fandom), you’ll love this romantic comedy told via

Harlem Queen - a Black historical fiction audio drama based on the life and times of Black, woman, "gangster" Madame Stephanie St. Clair during the Harlem Renaissance.

His Royal Fakin' Highness - What if Ophelia helped Hamlet get his throne back? This modern day, romantic comedy re-imagining of Shakespeare's Hamlet asks just that. As they stage an engagement in the wake of the king's death, these childhood frenemies must decide between duty and love.

InCo (This one's mine :D) - A Sci-Fi story about a disgruntled information seller, a mysterious space boy, and an android doing her best.

Janus Descending - a limited series, science fiction/horror audio drama podcast, follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place.

Lady Lucy - Lady Lucy is an audio drama inspired by Shakespeare's "Dark Lady" Sonnets, 127-154. Between running her brothel, fighting the Church, murdering her friends' abusive husbands, and pretending to be a poet, the last thing Lucy needed back in 1586 was a surprise visit from her former flame... Will Shakespeare.

Liars and Leeches - Tonya Wright felt it all after the tragic murders of her sister and brother-in-law in a random act of gun violence. Struggling to travel outside of her home, she now lives constantly on edge about perceived threats that seem to surround her.

Nightlight - Multi-award winning horror podcast featuring creepy stories with full audio production written by Black writers and performed by Black actors. So scary it’ll make you want to leave your night light on.

Null /Void - a science fiction audio drama about a young woman, Piper Lee, whose life is saved by a mysterious voice named Adelaide. Piper soon uncovers a malicious plot by a monopoly of a tech company and must work with her friends and an unusual ally to help foil their deadly plot.

Out of Ashes - (currently remastering season 1) Follow a group of survivors as they navigate the ruins of modern civilization and battle against demons, ghosts, monsters and the looming threat of extinction from an ancient power.

Small Victories - A recently recovered drug addict tries to start her new lease on life, too bad life has it out for her.  This dramatic comedy follows Marisol through the ups and downs of her life.

The Courtship of Mona Mae - In the 1870s, pioneers Mona Mae Christophe and Zekial Montgomery search the American West for Mona Mae's mother, Clara. Mona must recall a past, long forgotten in order to survive, so that she can find her mother, love and create a way of life for herself.

Vega a Sci-Fi Adventure Podcast - In a fantasy futuristic world, Vega Rex is employed by her government to kill off the world's worst criminals. She's never met a criminal she couldn't catch…until now. Join Vega as she journeys through a world of bumbling apprentices, powerful technogods, and her biggest challenge yet. Hosted by Ivuoma Hall.

Witchever Path - is an anthology series where your decisions effect the story. Our stories are based in America’s NorthEast, featuring characters finding themselves in the thick of the unknown while tackling issues like queer identity, gender, race, and spirituality. Stories often focus on the communities not typically seen in stories taking place in New England, and giving voice to the perspectives of those communities while uniting under some universal themes. And the supernatural happens. A lot.

(All descriptions were taken from websites)

If you want to find more and there are way more there's a directory :D

[shycloudkitty]

You're too sweet for a monster like me

Summary : Leon's drowning his pain and suffering with whiskey. But you might be his true salvation.

Pairing : Vendetta Leon! × Fem Reader (A little bit of pre vendetta)

Tags : Established relationship, self deprecating talk (Leon does with himself), mostly angst with little comfort. (But it's there) and alcoholism

A/N: Update on why I disappeared for a while. It's because things got rocky with my academics and I recently broke up :( But not to worry I'm not gonna let a little heartbreak set me back.

And for this fic I'm thinking it to be a little pre vendetta Leon, like the incidents that led to him having depression in Vendetta. It's gonna a be short fic, may or may not write a part 2 about this. Let me know!

YTS Part -2

WC: 1.6K

Sound of whiskey getting poured in a glass fills the emptiness of the living room he was in. After all this was all he could do, the only thing he had control in his poor pathetic life.

One mission after another after another. Leon was getting tired after endless fights with the B.O.Ws, corrupt governments in countless countries that were ‘speculated’ to have a new damned virus or a bioweapon war waiting to happen.

And every damn time he was supposed to deal with it, he was supposed to do the government’s dirty work for them, he was supposed to fight every goddamned ugly creature created by the worst of mankind, he had to carry out every gut wrenching decision that government instructed him to do, everytime he was the last man standing and he was never gonna get out of this cycle.

Yes, that's right. He was just a little puppet for the government that was supposed to fight B.O.Ws for them. Someone who was blackmailed into this life and do their bidding, by of course the government.

At first, he tried to take it positively and thought of how many people he could save like he always wanted to and at such a large scale. Something he was extremely passionate about since he was a kid… saving people's lives, protecting them. That's why he wanted to be a cop and now that he was a government ‘special’ agent he would be able to do more.

But he definitely didn't expect the destruction those missions would cause on his own self too, taking every piece of his humanity, every last hope he seemed to have, gone & extinguished in the flames of every bioweapon war he was called in. He definitely didn't expect and could never have anticipated what he was getting thrown into.

When will this cycle end?

A question he thought every second of his life but never had the answer. Forced to play hero each time and with no real win, fighting was like choosing between the lesser of two evils.

He was just a weapon, just a pawn that the government moved each time when they wanted to achieve something. And why would a pawn's life matter in the grand scheme of things? A pawn was created just to be shot down. And that's what he was.

While he was lost in thoughts and his whiskey all alone. He almost missed the soft voice whispering his name, such a gentle voice calling out to him. Feeling a soft hand on his back, trying to get his attention. He turned back to see who it was… and there was the reason. You.

Soft eyes looking at him with a sympathetic smile asking him how he was or that he had eaten anything today?

Leon slowly shook his head to get out of the fog clouding his brain and blinked a few times to focus on you.

Leon's words slurred as he spoke “What?”

“I asked how are you doing today?” Your soft words of concern clearing his brain fog better, making him aware of his surroundings and himself.

Leon blinks once more and looks down at his whiskey and then back at you. “... Better than yesterday.” A lie, he was the same as yesterday.

He could see her lips twitch in a small smile as she sat down besides him on the couch and said. “You're a terrible liar when drunk…”

Leon managed a soft huff at her reply. It almost weirded him out that you could see through him, but he guessed that's what happens when you have someone who cares for you. Leon looked away, sighing deeply and replied. “I'm just tired…”

Leon heard a soft sigh, feeling the soft couch dip a bit as she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder and gently held his hand. “Leon… I'm always here for you, you know that right? I may not be able to give solid advice to you, but I'm a good listener.”

You could feel him relax under your touch a bit and saw him look your way from the corner of his way, still not facing you. “...I know.”

“So, you know I'm also worried about you?”

Leon winces at that, the last thing he wanted was you to worry about his pathetic self. You already have done so much for him just staying by his side through all this. Hell, you were an angel just for putting up with him and actually loving him. You weren't supposed to be worried about him and you definitely weren't supposed to fall in love with him.

Leon clears his throat and shifts a little bit away from you although he didn't let go of your hand and says. “I…It's nothing.”

You couldn't help but frown at how closed off he was being for the last few days, you understand that his last mission was rough although he never went into details about his missions with you. And you knew he needed space to process all of it but you hated the way he was ‘processing’ his loss. Drinking, lost in thoughts and closing off when you tried to get close. It was hard for both of you.

You slowly shifted towards him again, getting close to him once again. Gently taking the whiskey glass from his hands and moving it away from him. “Leon…”

He looks back at you and he looks…lost. A raging storm of emotions present in those pretty blue eyes of his that you loved so much. “I know it's hard Leon and I'm happy to give you space to think but the way you're doing it… is making me worried.”

You took a deep breath and continued. “Is there anything I can do to help? I can't… see you like this.”

He closes his eyes and deeply sighs once more, years of weariness and defeat visible on his face. He shakes his head and whispers. “You're not supposed to worry about me…”

Leon feels soft hands cup his face gently as she replies. “Can't help it. It sorta happens when you care.”

Leon opens his eyes to see you staring at him with a soft warm smile, your faces close. He presses his forehead against yours for a while trying to calm his anxious thoughts. He then pulls you closer by your waist, pulling you in a hug and burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath. Your scent filling his senses and offering some peace that he needed to ground himself.

He often wondered what he did to deserve you? Did God or whatever the power universe has, take pity on him and decide to gift him an angel? You were always so sweet, so gentle with him, loving, caring, understanding. You were his sunshine and he couldn't look away. All he could do was soak up in the warmth that you always seemed to radiate everywhere you stepped.

You were perfect and it scared the hell out of him.

He was scared that one day you will see the monster he actually was. That one day you will wake up and see him for who he was, the things he had to do to make a living and think what a disgusting monster he was, what he truly was… not some ‘Hero’ or the ‘Golden boy’, just some monster and a weapon crafted to perfection to destroy the undead. And he hopes that day never comes.

He continues to hug you tightly to himself, his face buried in your neck as he takes deep breaths to calm himself. He then softly whispered. “You smell…like daffodils.”

The sudden comment made you chuckle a bit and kissed his cheek, hugging him tightly. “Yeah, I bought a new perfume today, didn't think you would notice. Does it smell bad?”

“... No, it smells good. It suits you.” And sighed deeply. He then whispered. “You're too sweet for me. Don't know what you see in me.”

You turned to face him and kissed his cheek. “don't say that… I see that you're a hard working, resilient person who keeps going even when the odds are stacked up against him. Whatever it is that you're going through… you can pass through it.”

He turned his head to face you, his expression softening into something more vulnerable as you say that. Clearly touched by your words. Feeling a lump rise in his throat as he closes his eyes once more and exhales shakily.

You were so…innocent. You had no idea what was going on in his head or what actually he turned into. You also had no idea about the vicious but repetitive cycle he was in.

Opening up about this life of his…would ruin such a sweet and innocent thing like you, he was sure of that. He knew you weren't a kid or anything or that you never faced hardships in your life. But this…he can't tell you about what he faces out there, what kind of ugliness his line of work shows him everyday, the dark side of humanity.

He can't taint the only ray of sunshine he ever found in his life.

You look up at him with that sweet dazzling smile, thinking he was someone ‘great’. But reality couldn't be farther from the truth.

Hello everyone! Long time no see, I'm sorry for my disappearance. I promise I will try to be regular now, I know this was short I will probably try to make a part 2? Idk but this was mostly written for my creativity to start flowing again. If you liked it please like it and reblog. I would be very grateful 😊

Fun fact: Daffodils are a sign of hope!

Thank you for reading this, hope you have a good day!

-Bella

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: The Arcana Interpretations

symbolism for your next poem/story (pt. 1)

1. The Magician

The beginning, the first cause, Mercurial influence

Good: Dexterity, ability, diplomacy, eloquence, convincing ways, an alert mind, a quick mind, business acumen

Bad: A persuasive boaster, an illusionist, intrigue, careerist, politician, charlatan, imposter, liar, a crook, an exploiter; an agitator, a lack of scruples

2. The Priestess

Mystery, intuition, devotion, passive Saturnian influence

Good: reserved, discreet, quiet, meditation, faith, patient, religious feelings, resignation, modesty; necessary inaction

Bad: hidden intentions, dissimulation, hypocrisy, inaction, laziness, sanctimonious, holds a grudge, an indifferent disposition, interest in the mystical

3. The Empress

Prudence, discretion, idealism and intellectual solar influence

Good: Understanding, intelligence, instruction, charm, courteous, sociable, elegance, distinction, politeness; domination by the mind, abundance, riches; servility

Bad: Affectation, poseur, stylish, vanity, pretentious, disdain, frivolity, idleness, luxury, extravagant; sensitivity to flattery, lack of refinement, ways of nouveaux riche

4. The Emperor

Firm, positivism, executive power, Saturnian-Martial influence

Good: Right, rigid, certitude, fixed ideas, realization, perseverance, strong willpower, acts on decisions; powerful protector

Bad: Tenuous opposition, stubborn, hostile prejudice, opinionated, bad government, big risks of failure; tyranny, absolutism

5. The Pope

Duty, morality, conscience, Jupiterian influence

Good: Moral authority, respectability, teaching, good advice, goodwill, indulgent, generosity, forgiveness; meekness

Bad: Papal sentence, strict moralist, strict teacher, small-minded theorist, bombastic preacher; an adviser with a lank of practical sense

6. The Lovers

Feelings, freewilled, testing, double influence of Venus or more exactly Ishtar the war like star of the morning, then amorous as the stars go down

Good: Voluntary determinism, choice, wished, aspirations, desires; examinations, deliberations, responsibility; affections

Bad: To go through doubts and indecision; dangerous temptation, the risk of being seduced, misconduct, liberty, weakness, lack of heroism

7. The Chariot

Triumph, command, superiority, Martian-solar influence

Good: Legitimate success, deserved advancement, talent, health, aptitudes put to good effect; governmental tact, diplomacy, efficient direction, appeasement; progress, mobility, journeys on land

Bad: Unjustified ambition, lack of talent, usurped situation, illegitimate government, dictatorship, harmful concessions, dangerous opportunism, worrying about which way to go, preoccupations, overworked, feverish activity without rest

8. Justice

Order, regularity, method, equilibrium, placid lunar influences

Good: Stability, conservatism, organization, normal functioning; law, discipline, logic, coordination, adapting to necessities, moderate opinions, practical sense, reason, administration, economy, obedience

Bad: Bourgeoisism, submission to users, lack of initiative, slaving over books, functionalism, papers; police station; legal dispute, law suit, quarrel, exploitation of the legal system

9. The Hermit

Prudence, reserve, restriction, Saturnian influence

Good: Isolation, concentration, silence, profoundness, meditation, study; austerity, continence, sobriety, discretion; doctor, discreet occultist

Bad: Timid, misanthrope, mute, exaggerated circumspection, lack of sociability, sullen character; avarice, poverty, celibacy, chaste; conspirator

10. The Wheel of Fortune

Destiny, instability, lunar-Mercurial influence

Good: Sagacity, an opportunist, luck in all undertakings, luck, fortuitous success; spontaneity, an inventive disposition, liveliness, good humour

Bad: Carelessness, speculation, game, insecurity, unserious, the unexpected, gypsy character; unstable situation, sudden change, winnings and losses; adventures, risks, minor fortune

11. Strength

Virtue, courage, Jupiter-Mars influence

Good: Moral energy, calm, intrepid; mind over matter; intelligence conquering brutality; subjugation of passions; success in industry

Bad: Anger, impatience, immoderate enthusiasm, insensibility, cruelty, fighting, war, conquering with violence, a surgical operation, vehemence, discord, fire

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ On Tarot

[sh1-n0bu]

yall this is my first time requesting something from someone so im a bit nervous but

imagine overstimulating venti until he cries 🤭

also can i be 🌊 anon ? PLEASE tell me if anything i asked made you uncomfortable!!

♡︎ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙤 𝙜𝙤𝙙’𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 ♡︎

characters: sub!venti x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, size kink, dacryphillia, reader’s genitals/pronouns are never mentioned so the cock can be interpreted as a strap on

notes: of course you can be 🌊anon! and yes, i’m slowly coming back to life. man author’s block is hard to beat. also, if this get’s flagged by tumblr when i wake up tmrw, i’ll delete it and post it again so don’t get too scared if it’s suddenly gone bbies

venti, or better yet known as barbatos to his people, was never really much of an archon.

he never plays by the rules, governs over his people nor even tries to abide by celestia’s rules. often, the wind spirit simply prefers to lay back and watch as his people takes care of any problems. they’re strong after all, his children always has been. of course, the windborn bard slurs out words of being the anemo archon in his drunk dazed self but no one ever takes it seriously.

and another thing was that, venti never worships the celestia. the floating island in the sky is full of nothing but liars, manipulators and cowards. besides… why would he worship those pathetic things when you’re right here?

why kneel before them when he can kneel before you?

why worship those who spat venom everytime they open their mouth when ballads and praises, songs of life flow from yours?

why chase after meaningless praises when your words sting like the strongest alcohol, burning his throat, making his eyes water as he becomes more and more addicted to you?

that’s exactly why the anemo archon prefers to worship you instead. when you braid his hair and comb out the knots as he nuzzles against your form, dazed and sleepy.

when you’re there to console him, help him through his darkest days when those wretches of celestia has done nothing.

when you’re kissing away the tears that spill from his eyes, shushing his slurred speeches and sobs of pleasure as you continue to ram into that one spot inside him, making him shriek and spill over his stomach again and again.

the windborn bard could worship you for eternity.

spilling another load into his stomach, the god in your arms spasms and twitches as his legs weakly wrap around your waist to at least try and calm the twitching of his small body.

dear stars above, you felt so big he could almost feel your tip in his stomach in his sex drunken haze. slurred whines of what seems to be your name flowing out of his mouth as he tries to keep his last threads of sanity together but how can he do so when he can just feel your previous loads slipping out of his rim and down to the sheets.

it all felt so hot, the room was so hot, everything was spinning. the warmth of your cum seeping out of his hole, the slight bulge in his stomach, the feeling of your finger wiggling in next to his already stuffed hole and pushing the cum back inside while your cock stays in — venti lets out a weak sound.

“look at you, little bird. you’re leaking out my cum that i worked so hard to put in you. can’t have my hard work being spent, right?” you coo out teasingly, a grin bit too sadistic tugging on your lips as venti writhes under you when you add in another finger. stars above, were you trying to break him?

venti couldn’t respond. he couldn’t even fully understand and register your words. brain too fried from the previous rounds of your just absolutely handling his small body around, pinching, teasing, smacking, leaving marks and hickeys but he loved it all.

as a response, the bard only weakly bucks his hips back into your strap again seemingly wanting more. my, what an insatiable little bird.

throwing his leg over your shoulder, you take out your fingers from his hole and squeeze his tiny waist once in a warning before fucking back into him again. small whines, weak noises and slurred whorish moans spill out from under you, the anemo archon far too fucked stupid to even try to properly say your name anymore.

making a grabby motion with his hands — a silent ask to hold you close while you fuck him full of your cum again — you decide to be nice and lean down, the absolutely filthy wet noises of your cock easily entering him causing venti to dig his blunt nails into your back, pulling you closer to himself.

feeling another orgasm building up embarrassingly quickly, the archon chases after your lips with weak whines, a sob following as you deny him of a proper kiss. instead teasing him by kissing his soft cheek. he didn’t even realize he was crying.

but soon those soft and weak whimpers and slurred words turn into a sharp scream as he feels himself cumming into both of your stomachs again, a sob of your name following along as you chase your high, getting more frantic with your movements.

the archon feels himself getting filled up again when your hips stutter, causing the short man under you to whimper a quiet “[n-nameee…❤︎︎]” in your ears.

after having caught your breath, you pull away from him slightly. pushing his hair away from his face, you couldn’t help but laugh as you wipe away his tears. but that laugh is cut off short as the archon bucks his hips against yours again, a cheeky grin pulling on his lips.

[matan4il]

My grandparents were all Holocaust survivors. A large part of my family was murdered in that genocide. I chose to deal with the family trauma by becoming an educator on this subject. I give tours, lectures and workshops on the Holocaust, on antisemitism and on Jewish history.

Intellectually, I'm perfectly aware of how the massacre that Hamas perpetrated is NOT like what the Nazis did. More Jews were murdered over the course of just two days in Babi Yar (33,771 men, women and children), which is just one Nazi shooting pit out of almost two thousand, than during the entire Israeli-Arab conflict. Even after the carnage brought on by Hamas, this is still true. The Nazis were far more systematic (which eventually made them turn industrial) in carrying out the genocide of the Jews than Hamas has been. There's no comparison in terms of scale and industrialization.

And yet emotionally, I can't help but be hit by the similarities in terms of the immediate brutality of the murderers and the experiences of the Jewish victims. Because I am listening to the testimonies and some are so eerily similar to my research, I simply can't process how these are from recent days, not 80 years ago.

Jewish kids hiding from their would be murderers, scared to make a sound for fear of being discovered and killed.

Jewish families completely wiped out.

Jews asking themselves how did they survive and the person next to them did not.

Jewish people executed in droves, their bodies piled up.

Jews begging to be spared, to no avail.

Jewish women raped, most of them then killed.

Jewish babies executed in barbaric ways.

Jews being burned, some after being murdered, some while alive.

Jewish communities devastated. Take kibbutz Be'eri for example. It was founded before the State of Israel. Despite many terrorist attacks, it has continued to thrive in Israel's south. A small, close knit agricultural community. Over 100 people (at least) have been slaughtered there. Homes were destroyed. Everything the kibbutz's economy was based on was laid to waste, too. Be'eri has become synonymous with the worst of the carnage. IDK how they'll build their lives again after the war is over. IDK if they can. A community of almost 80 years, quite likely gone.

Foreign reporters who had been to kibbutz Kfar Azza all talked about the eerie silence and the stench of death rising from the bodies. Eerie silence is exactly how visitors to the sites of the shooting pits describe those places, while the allied soldiers who liberated the Nazi camps talked about the stench of death there.

Some of the reactions to this massacre also remind me of the Holocaust. Even though the Nazis, the murderers themselves, documented their extermination of Jews, there are those who deny the Holocaust happened, painting the Jews as liars. Similarly, even though Hamas documented themselves, and released the footage themselves, there are people going around denying the atrocities, painting the Jews as liars.

Then there's the justification of the mass murder of Jews by insinuating they brought it on themselves... Back in 1943, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, aware of the plight of Jews under the Nazis, told government officials in Allied-liberated North Africa that the number of local Jews in various professions “should be definitely limited” so as to “eliminate the specific and understandable complaints which the Germans bore towards the Jews in Germany.” Understandable complaints. Understandable complaints of Germans against Jews. Roosevelt, the liberal president, said that while Jews were being exterminated by the Germans. In the same manner, we're seeing people justifying the murder of Jews at the hands of Hamas, even though it's a known antisemitic terrorist organization which has repeatedly called for the murder of all Jews in the world. According to the Simon Wiesenthal Center, a reportedly Hamas affiliated Imam declared, "If the Zionist state were to move to the other end of the Mediterranean, our war would not be over, for the enemy is the Jew.

And while I stand by my statement that the scale is nothing alike, the carnage that took place in Israel IS the biggest massacre of Jews since the end of the Holocaust. Not even during Israel's Independence War and some of the massacres of Jews that happened during it (like the Kfar Etzion massacre) were this many Jews murdered during a single day.

Just like so many were silent back then as Jews were being both killed for being Jewish AND blamed for their own murder, many are silent now as well. Don't get me wrong, there are A LOT of amazing people who reached out to their Jewish friends, who showed they care, who took to the streets, who held vigils for the massacre's victims! Many heads of state also condemned this vicious attack. But I'm looking at Tumblr specifically, and it is FULL of posts justifying Hamas' slaughter of Jews. They're being reblogged everywhere, spread in every fandom. People who claim to stand for social justice feel absolutely no shame sharing such de-humanizing posts on their blogs. And what do we do? Are we calling them out? Do we make it clear that it is morally unacceptable to blame Jews for their own murder? Do we unfollow these bloggers, so that at least the dropping numbers send out the message that it is unacceptable to justify the massacre of innocent people?

TLDR:

This massacre is not like the Holocaust, but the cruel antisemitism that motivated it is the same. Let's not let antisemitism thrive here. Please do what you can (whatever that is) to stand for what's right.

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

[angelpuns]

50Au Part 14

CW FOR NEEDLES(?), BEING HELD DOWN(??)

Lemme know if it needs more/different warnings pls.

---

Leo was trying very, very hard to be calm right now. He was doing his breathing. He was counting the things he could see and hear and all that other stuff. He was definitely not thinking about how fucking scared he was, that was for sure. 

Except he was, because he's a liar. And it was starting to make him spiral a teeny, tiny little bit. 

The smallest of the three kept looking at him with this, sad, sad expression. Except when Leo made eye contact, the small one would smile. And even though it seemed harmless, Leo was sure this was some kind of weird manipulation tactic. 

He had been wondering what these guys' deal was all day. Why they were after him, obsessed With him. Why they were so insistent on lying to his face about- about his entire life. 

His big guesses were Big Mama's lackeys, but they seemed…different from her usual style. Or maybe they worked for some big government agency in the human side of things. Or maybe - and he tried very hard not to dwell on this thought - they were part of the foot clan. The foot clan, who had released the krang upon New York and nearly trapped Leo in another dimension forever. 

The foot clan, that was determined to kill him and dead set on having the shredder fuck up his entire life in, like , seconds. 

He knew there was some weird ancestor bullshit there, but he never really understood why the Shredder had wanted him dead so bad. 

Leo didn't want them to be part of the foot clan, cause he was absolutely definitely not ready to deal with the krang or the Shredder or any sort of world-ending situation. He was just one guy, after all. 

But the evidence was stacked against him. They all wore similar outfits, had ninja skills, and had some sort of mystic powers that were a little too similar to his own. And all that was being used against him, to trick him into thinking they'd been his brothers all along. 

But Leo was not easily tricked. And he sure as hell wasn't going down without a fight. 

So he kicked and screamed the entire way back to the lair, which took only moments since they had a portal token. The thought that they could have used it at any time made his blood run cold. 

It was probably how they escaped his trap, and how they kept catching up to him so quickly. They were toying with him. Like a fucked up game of cat and mouse that he just could not win for some reason. They got Hueso and his waiter in on it, too, he just knew it. 

He went quiet after that, tossing ideas around his head and hoping something would stick. They were clearly smarter than he thought, and he wondered if his little rat trick had even tricked them at all. It had felt good in the moment and now it just felt like a stupid waste of time. 

When they got back to his lair, they sat him down in the armchair of the living room. The cage was gone, they has probably ditched it straight away and went to snooping around his home for the krang key. Their emotional States (and the general lack of aliens fucking up New York) led him to believe they hadn't found it yet, thankfully. But it was only a matter of time. 

He was still wrapped in chains, but there was a sudden ker-chunk sound, and some sort of metal jutted out from the chair and wrapped around his wrists, ankles and midsection, strapping him to the chair. 

The small one and the large one looked to the purple one, who had pressed a remote he'd conjured from somewhere on his person. 

“What? They're for when I have to ground Dad and make him watching nature documentaries.” He said, like any of that had made sense. 

The red one gave a disapproving shake of his head, “ Donnie…” 

“ It's not torture, Raphala, it's just so he can't grab the remote,” The purple one- Donnie-  insisted, gesturing to Leo,” and look, it’s coming in clutch right now, isn't it?” 

“You’re removin’ it later, just so ya know,” The red one - Raph - sighed. 

Leo had an idea. Not, like, his best one ever, considering he was exhausted and hurting and did he already say exhausted? But it might just work.

 He just had to do some quick intel-gathering. 

“ Mikey, go ahead and release him,” Donnie sighed, turning towards Leo with the most villain-like dramatic pose Leo's ever seen. No doubt about it, these guys were evil. 

“that, my dear twin, is reinforced titanium. Genius-Built and totally undestructible! So now you will sit here and listen to what we have to say, okay?” 

Leo swallowed past the lump in his throat. Okay. Game on. 

He nodded meekly, flexing his hands and feet a little to test the bars. Hey, a girl can try, right? 

“ Right. So, you - Leonardo Hamato - have been cursed. By a witch. From witch town. To forget your family,” Donnie gestured at himself and the two others, “ every day. You sleep and forget us, every day. This is day two. Are you following?”

Leo nodded again, clearing his rasping throat, “ Like 50 first dates?” 

Mikey - the orange one - piped up with a grin, “ that's what I've been saying! You're like Drew Barrymore!” 

“Yes. Like 50 first dates, although it's mystical and not clinical. So-” Donnie put his hands on his hips, “ now that we’ve got that covered-”

“ Are you going to make me watch a montage of memories or something?” Leo snarled, raising an eyebrow mockingly at Donnie. 

That seemed to get a rise out of him. Good, Leo wanted him nice and annoyed for his plan. 

Mikey gasped, “ OHMIGOSH WE SO SHOULD! DONNIE ISN'T THAT A GOOD IDEA!?”

Leo couldn't help but wince at the shouting, the probable concussion catching up to him again. He needed his stupid brain to think, not hurt. 

Donnie sighed, “ I don’t see what it will hurt, but can it please wait for tomorrow?” 

He turned to Leo with a frown, “ we need to put Leo to sleep for the night before he tries to run off again- we do not need him running around New York in this condition!” 

Put him to sleep? So they could what, find the key? Shouldn't they be interrogating him or something? Not like he would tell them where it was, but the weird game plan was concerning. 

They'd hunted him down all day and for what? To just bring him back here and put him to sleep so they could snoop more? He'd been gone all morning, they could have looked then. 

Unless.. Unless they had something to worm their way into his head. After all, Sister Krang was still out there, somewhere. She could be the one pulling the strings here. She was likely still too injured to do it herself so it- it would make sense. 

“ you- you don't need to do that!” He blurted, the panic creeping up his shell. Stay cool, Leo, stay cool. Be a cool bean, c'mon now. 

“ I could- I could remember any second now! I mean…M-Miguel over here looks kinda familiar!” It was not what he planned to say,  but he had to roll with it. 

The orange one lit up at that, “ hey, yeah! He called me Miguel, that's progress, right Dooonnieee?” 

Roll with it. Roll with it. 

Leo's voice was quieter when he spoke, and he couldn't fight the pathetic tremble in it, “ right, Donnie?” 

Donnie stared at him. Really stared at him. Then his expression seemed to relax and the tension along his shoulders melted for a second. 

“Fine, okay.  We're not making a montage, but we can, like, go through the family photo album or something,” He sighed, turning to the big one, “sound good to you, Raph?”

Raph was staring at Leo, too. But not like Donnie had been. It was something else. Like…guilt? 

Yeah, okay, probably not guilt. Maybe it was thinly veiled disdain or something, Leo wasn't really good at reading people when his head was throbbing like this. 

“ Raph?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, whatever Donnie said is fine,” He murmured, quickly turning away when Leo made eye contact. Good. Cause that was throwing a wrench into his plan and he didn't know how to account for the biggest one's weird emotional gazes right now. 

“Would it be possible to turn down the lights, just a little? Cause I've got a killer headache,” Leo rasped, shooting Donnie a meek smile that he hoped was more convincing than it felt. 

“Oh, yes. I hadn't accounted for the head trauma. Thankfully you've been awake for more than two hours, so you should be fine ” He headed to the wall and  turned the overhead lights off, only the faint fairy lights illuminating their faces, “ I'll make sure to give you Tylenol tomorrow morning, since you won't remember why you have a headache.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, it made Leo’s skin crawl. So they were gonna mess with his head. 

“ Right..” He chuckled, clearing his throat a little “thanks, Bro” 

Donnie stiffened a little at that, but just gave a simple nod in response. Tough crowd. He was gonna be the hardest to convince, Leo noted. 

The small one would be easy, and Raph was so caught up in whatever he kept looking at Leo for, he probably would be easy to convince too. 

Leo could do this, he could do this. Even in this condition, in pain, tired, with a panic attack in his back pocket just waiting  to catch him off guard. He could do this. 

Mikey ran back in with a small photo album a few moments later, quickly sitting next to the chair and propping the album in Leo's lap. 

Leo wasn't stupid. They had obviously faked all of the photos, after all, they said they'd been watching him as young as six. Who's to say they hadn't been keeping tabs on him since he was first mutated?

He wondered briefly if Draxum was a part of this too, but decided he would have shown up with some villain monologue of his own if he had been. Thank god, Leo didn't wanna deal with him right now on top of all of this other shit. 

“ That's when Dad first found the sewers, and when you and Donnie had your first birthday together, and when Raph tried to eat that football and-”

“Slow down, Mikey, I'm churning up some memories here,” Leo chuckled, giving him a faint grin. That seemed to shut him up and keep him happy, Leo just hoping it was deemed genuine by the other two. Raph was barely paying attention, but Donnie had been watching him with a scrutinizing eye the entire time. 

He let Mikey flip the pages, nodding at some of the photos like he understood and then stating for long periods of other photos as if he really was remembering. 

“ I think…this one looks familiar,” He pointed to the one closest to his right hand, a picture of him standing on Raph shoulder's trying to reach a cookie jar. Which was impossible for about a million reasons, but it would rope the big one into the conversation, at least. 

Predictably, Raph leaned over to look closer. He chuffed out a laugh, “ oh yeah, Raph remembers that…” 

Cue the lights, because Leo was about to put on the best act of his life. 

“ yeah…i think…i think Dad was laughing and- I kinda remember…it scared us so bad we fell and broke the jar!” He laughed to play it up, like it was a funny childhood memory that had actually happened. 

Raph grinned and laughed along with him, “ yeah…he was so mad after that, too,” 

Perfect. It was too easy, the photo was tilted and a little blurry, like someone had been trying to hold it together and take a picture all at once. Raph's tone said it all, there was definitely some sort of dumb punishment involved, so they must have fallen. 

“ It's working! What else do you remember, Lee?” Mikey grinned. 

Donnie scoffed, grimacing down at the album “ You could be lying. I'm sure you've got something up your sleeve, ‘ Nardo. Prove you remember something. Anything.” 

The show must go on. 

“well…” Leo thought back to all the information he'd gathered, all the photos he'd been scanning. The way Donnie had looked at him with such defeat. Yeah, he had this in the bag. 

“ we…forgot to celebrate our birthday last year, didn't we?” He looked up at Donnie and frowned, biting his lip like he was thinking hard, “ because of the…the invasion. And because I was…hurt,” 

He tilted his head a little, offered that meek smile, and gave a little chuckle, “ we never got around to doing that, did we?”

That seemed to seal the deal, Donnie's eyes becoming glassy with tears. 

“ Yeah, we didn't…we should probably, cause it's…” Donnie sniffed and hid his face. 

“Hey, yeah, it's creeping up on us pretty fast, Isn't It?” Leo agreed, sighing softly, “ I guess I've been pretty..pretty awful to you guys today, huh? Running away when you were just trying to help me…im really, really sorry, I was just scared…” 

“ It was scary to us, too, cause you were..you were all alone out there…” Mikey’s voice warbled with tears, and he hugged Leo as well as he could with the bars in his way. 

Now was his chance. 

“ I promise I won't run anymore, okay? Can you…can you guys let me out? So we can all have a real hug?” 

Donnie sniffed and nodded, wiping at his eyes and grabbing the remote. 

The bars released, but that wasn't his window. Not yet. 

He reached up and pulled Mikey into a hug, even if it made him shiver with discomfort. 

The big one squeezed both of them into a. Tight hug, Leo letting out a squeak that be hoped didn't sound as afraid as he felt. Donnie joined the hug for a moment before pulling away. 

“ Okay…okay, we should all head to bed,” He sighed, “ Leo needs to rest - curse or not - and we need…we need a plan of action in case the curse is still active somehow, so-” 

Raph pulled away from the hug, “ so you're gonna sleep too, right? Cause you need to be rested too, right?”

Donnie made a faintly guilty sound, but Leo's focus was back on the orange one. 

“ Ohmigosh, I'm so glad that worked!” Mikey pulled away a littlefrom the hug with a grin, his arms loosening from around Leo. 

“ Sorry, Mikey, but it didn't,” Leo murmured, barely letting Mikey process before he shoved him away as hard as he could manage. His swords were mere steps away, Leo stumbling over his feet to grab one of them, just one-

“GRAB HIM!” 

Something crushed him under it's weight, Leo wheezing out a gasp when he realized it was Raph. He'd tackled him to the ground like it was nothing, but this was Leo's last chance. He had  to keep them from getting his memories. He had to keel them from getting the key! 

He wasn’t gonna let then destroy the world, not again! 

He kicked and hit at whatever parts of Raph he could reach, but the guy was a stone. He shimmied and trued to crawl our from under him, but any movement was shut down by this guy's bulk. 

He'd never been good at fighting one-on-one. He’d never been good at fighting period. He was better at jumping, avoiding, dodging.

“ LET ME GO! I WON'T LET YOU DO THIS! LET ME GO! RAPH! RAPH, LET ME GO!” He was getting too tired to fight, too tired to kick and scream, but he still had their feelings to mess with. So that's what that look had been. It was Leo's new trump card. 

“ RAPH! RAPH, PLEASE!PLEASE, LET ME GO!” He fought less and less, trying to see the big guy's expression, “ PLEASE I-I WON'T RUN, PLEASE, PLEASE!I'M SCARED, OKAY!? I'M SCARED!”

He heard a sob from above him, a litany of apologies spilling from the big one's mouth. Wait. Wait, he was apologizing? 

Weren't these guys supposed to be villains? 

Even through the muffled apologies, the weight didn't let up. Leo was torn. Maybe they weren't lying, but- but then how could he? He'd lived a whole life and it wasn't- it wasn't real?

He wasn't real? 

“ I'm sorry, ‘Nardo,” he glanced up and Donnie was there with a syringe. Leo trued to fight it, but Raph quickly held his arm to the ground. He fought with everything he had, throat burning with pleads and shouts that were lost on deaf ears. 

No. No, these guys were undoubtedly evil. Who the fuck would do this to their supposed brother?

His screams drifted off as he did, and all he could think to say was a muffled “ I'm scared” before everything faded to black.

---

Okay this one took longer than usual cause it was just a lot of things going on at once. Also Leo doesn't think of Draxum as family or family adjacent cause I thought it'd be funny.

I'm tired so I don't have much else to say, pls lemme k ow if I need to add more warnings.

Part 1 | Part 13 | Part 15

[piracytheorist]

Twilight Eyes Project: "Prepare for the Interview"

Previous episodes analyses

The anime takes this chance to start the episode with the introductory pages of the manga. As the narrator talks about how people hide their true selves behind smiles and bravado, we get treated to Loid eyes and a smile that is shown as fabricated in a painfully obvious way.

Another way for the narrative to take the audience along with the lies. We're into everything, and the symbolism is laid thick. Right of the bat we're told "Hi, this guy is a liar, enjoy :D"

In an anime-original scene, we see Loid walk to the entrance to welcome Yor to their apartment. The balance is still feeble, but it was Yor who proposed they get married, so he can relax his Loid eyes a bit.

Not yet real, let's not hope too high. But he doesn't need to look overwhelmingly polite now, since Yor is already in on the plan.

It's back to neutral when they discuss their sleeping arrangements,

and straight to Twilight eyes when he talks to himself about why he had to backdate their marriage by a year.

They stay on as he helps Yor with her stuff, and looks over his shoulder at Yor and Anya having their first interactions.

In another anime-original scene where Yor is settling in, Loid eyes make for a totally welcome, very diligent family man façade.

Back to Twilight eyes when it's time for the mock interview.

And on as he loses heart, and decides to get all of them acquainted with each other in an effort to make for a more passable family.

Loid eyes as he shares his plans for their outing.

This next moment I find interesting, because he seems to have Twilight eyes... and a small smile. They're in the opera, the lights are low in the audience, and most people's attention is on the stage. He has no reason to fake a smile, yet there it is as he watches.

Until he realizes Anya and Yor don't look like the ideal opera audience.

"Twilight eyes" still on, along with another small smile, during their museum visit.

More Loid eyes in the last anime-original scenes of the episode. Unlike the opera and the museum, here they are in a kids' art room, the boutique, and out on the street. Much more possible for someone to notice him, so he puts in a little more effort to look like the happy family man who is definitely very satisfied with how things are and would never work for a foreign government, never!

Twilight eyes as he listens to the politician's speech, though with a small frown this time. Definitely not something he could possibly enjoy doing, much rather expose a little girl to.

Welcome to my blog. I project on fictional characters here.

Anya and Yor have been failing all his efforts to instill some elite-ness into them, and we get closed "Twilight" eyes then investigative eyes as he practically fumbles for a new plan.

Yor used "caring for others". It's super effective!

As the wind blows his hair back, he rests on the rail and just gives himself a moment to look at the view, without having to investigate. His quiet reaction, the blush on his face, and the lack of internal monologue point out how his eyes (and brows) have lost the tightness from before. Real eyes.

Until he spots the children playing, seemingly without a care in the world. The very thing he's fighting for. Cue sad eyes.

Kinda find it interesting that the soundtrack piece that plays in this moment is called "try again". He was too tired and disheartened to be able to work with a clear head, until Yor suggested a very simple thing, for him to take a moment off to clear his mind.

Duty calls, as a man robs an old woman and Yor's spring to action influences Twilight to act too. Thus, Twilight eyes as he searches for the pickpocket.

Pickpocket spotted! And Twilight takes it all too seriously now, evidenced by the almost vengeful investigative eyes. I like how the anime took their chance to animate his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Yor appears just in time, and he leaves Anya with her as he goes to jump the criminal. And thus, "Twilight eyes" stay on, with a tiny bit of the elusive nightmare eyes.

A sense of Loid eyes as he puts himself back together, realizing he went too far.

Whoops. Let's just pretend everything is absolutely in order!

Sometimes winging it just works because what kind of secret life would one have if they just walked off like that?

A case of narrowed eyes (in the manga) that don't look like "Twilight eyes", to me at least. The old lady thanks Yor for her help, and Yor passes the credit to Loid, who looks slightly embarrassed by the attention.

In a manner, he knows he wasn't the one to first spring into action, and wouldn't have done anything on his own, but also this kind of attention is unusual to a spy, so it causes him to avert his eyes.

Then the old lady thanks him in specific, and his real eyes betray his surprise.

Hey, I've written an entire meta about this specific reaction of his here.

A little more serious as he regains his composure. He was prepared to reject the credit for helping, but in a show of humility he takes the thanks silently and doesn't comment further.

Then, soft, relaxed, real eyes with a smile that reaches them as he thanks Yor for inspiring him.

(just the manga panel cause I feel the anime fumbled this one adsfdsgghfgd)

Wide, but still relaxed eyes as he smiles at Yor, right before Anya points out what it looks like they're doing.

An unbecoming expression of surprise at the old lady saying they look like a lovely family. His plan is actually going smoothly, but he can't let anyone know there is a plan in the first place. Surely there could be other ways to react, so to not betray himself like that?

This seems to be the first time he's handling a mission of such a nature; he hasn't been a part of a family as an adult, so he doesn't know exactly how to act to make the Forgers look like a normal one. As a result, he's surprised that although his efforts to make an elite-passing family failed, a random citizen who spent a few minutes with them was already convinced they've known each other for longer than a week.

In a few words, this is an expression of "wait, we actually look convincing?"

Down the line he'll get to realize that a normal family is one that can stumble and look "weird" from time to time, and also wonder how it would feel like if he really had a family of his own. He's not there yet.

Back home, he switches to subtle Twilight eyes as he suggests a second go at a mock interview.

But as Anya gives a very satisfactory answer, he allows himself a moment of relief, and we get Loid eyes.

Anya immediately flops the next question, and even makes him feel self-conscious with her adoration of how he took the pickpocket down. However, as Yor and Anya sit side by side on the couch looking adorable like a normal family, Twilight remembers the old lady's words. We close with tired Twilight eyes as he reluctantly admits there was some progress done.

(no manga spoilers please)

[matchalovertrait]

Alegría VS Caruso: Day 1, Part 3

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

Dulce’s lifelong friend, Matthew Fyres, agreed to take the stand in court to verify the digital evidence. He works in cybersecurity and is highly skilled in computer science.

Back in Italy, he lived a bit further from Dulce and Guillermo, so they didn’t get to hang out as much. However, their bond was as strong as ever. He was more than willing to help Dulce.

It was risky to use him instead of a random expert who would be undeniably neutral on the stance, but part of the strategy was to show that Dulce has a lot of support and loyal friends.

“Mr. Matthew Fyres, please explain your role and credibility,” Antonio calmly asked. He knew Matthew was quite nervous.

Matthew took a deep breath to soothe himself. “I work for the cybersecurity agency of Italy’s government. I cannot share much about what I do since I handle sensitive information, but I am a professional in this line of work.”

“And you have verified the digital evidence we presented thus far? Including Ms. Alegría’s cookbook project files and data from her channel?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Isabela smirked. It was her turn to question him.

“Mr. Fyres. I’d also like to point out the interesting timeline of the creation of these digital records. They only date back to about a year ago, correct?”

Matthew hesitated.

Dulce’s eyes widened.

It’s true! Still, it’s her work. She transferred everything over from-

“Yes..” Matthew admitted. He was stuck! He didn’t know what else to say to that.

The courtroom began to fill with a few whispers from the jury and audience.

Dulce was thinking of something, what was it???

Isabela took a sharp turn and faced the jury. “And the social media accounts? When the evidence was being presented, I noticed a small dip in viewership and subscriptions before Mr. Caruso’s video was published. There was one, correct?”

“Yes, because Mr. Caruso posted an Instagram story announcing the breakup. However, the percentages were an insignificant amount.”

“It was still a noticeable amount. Viewers and sponsors were already losing faith in her or only liked her because of Mr. Caruso. Her videos appealed to the masses because she was good at playing the part of a chef with humble beginnings. However, many comments in Mr. Caruso’s video prove that a good portion of viewers already had suspicions about her. He inspired other people to come forward with their opinions. Ms. Alegría is not a real chef. She is a liar and a manipulator. Her downfall was destined to come sooner or later–”

“Objection! Ms. Campos is making baseless accusations against my client.”

Too many objections can make a lawyer look like there is something to hide, but Antonio felt like he had to do it.

“Overruled. Continue, Ms. Campos.”

Antonio sat down, his mind racing.

“Here is my last question: So far, we’ve gathered that Ms. Alegría is rather skilled at exploiting others. Could she have persuaded you to fabricate or alter the evidence? Just like how she let Mr. Caruso believe there was a future between them AND persuaded him to let her take credit for his recipes?”

The courtroom burst with noise as people reacted to her bold claims. Some people seemed persuaded.

Antonio glared at Isabela. I miscalculated...

Dulce looked down. It was hard to concentrate with all the chatter. Gosh, can everyone shut up for a second?

The judge was exclaiming, “Order! Order!” to no avail.

Then, it clicked. Shit. My notebook! That’s where I originally kept all my recipes. Where did I last see it? Did I leave it in Tartosa?

She smiled.

No, of course I brought it! That's how I transferred everything from my notebook to my computer a year ago.

It’s in my office. It has the dates and everything.

Maybe we can do ink dating testing or whatever it's called!

Things look bad now, but her culinary friends would come another day. Her notebook could surely help too. She has to tell Antonio.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

[jaytriesstrangerthings]

Not Sick Fic

744 words of Eddie not being sick and Steve not finding him endearing.

---

“I’m not sick,” Eddie argues, punctuating his argument with an aggressive sneeze followed by harsh hacking.

“Are you holding a loogie in your mouth right now?” Steve crosses his arms and tilts his head in what the Party has taken to calling his Mom Stance (trademark pending).

In a disgusting display of defiance, Eddie swallows. “No.” 

There’s a glob of neon yellow snot dripping from Eddie’s left nostril that he drags his crusty sweatshirt sleeve across before snorting up another drip of snot coming from the right side this time. 

“You are…” Steve sighs, exasperated, “so gross.”

The furrowed brows and grumpy pout paired with Eddie’s pink nose and puffy eyes could almost be considered cute if Steve hadn’t just witnessed him swallow a loogie.

“How the hell did I fall in love with you?”

Steve knows exactly how it happened. He could write a library’s worth of books about all the things he loves about Eddie Munson. That doesn’t change the fact that Eddie absolutely refuses to admit that he’s sick and is being very gross about proving his health.

“Because I’m so totally handsome and I can do cool guitar stuff.” His voice is scratchy and nasally and Steve can tell he’s trying very hard not to sniffle or cough. “And I’m super rich on account of the cool guitar stuff.” Eddie bats his thick black eyelashes and flashes a big bright toothy smile in Steve’s direction. It’s usually quite charming but the new bead of snot dripping towards Eddie’s upper lip causes his charisma to take a hit. “Gimme a smooch.”

Eddie sniffles harshly, sucking the snot glob back into his nose. He leans in, lips puckered up and chapped from extended forced mouth breathing, eyes squeezed shut. Steve reaches out a hand to stop Eddie from falling when he continues to lean forward. 

“You’re cute,” Steve admits, pushing Eddie back to balance on his own feet, “You’re also sick.”

“‘m not,” Eddie pouts again, opening his eyes and glaring at Steve.

Yes he is. Eddie is very sick. His nose is running a marathon and Steve could hear the congestion from a mile away. He’s running a 102 degree fahrenheit fever and shivering like a chihuahua on a sugar high. His eyes are red and puffy and his eye bags have eye bags. He’s sneezing and coughing and if the way he frequently grimaces and groans is any indication he’s nauseous too. 

It’s wild to Steve, how easily Eddie tends to ignore his own health and well-being. He’s going to work himself to an early grave and take Steve with him. It’s frankly astonishing how long Eddie’s made it and Steve is half convinced that Death is simply scared of Eddie. It wouldn’t be surprising. Eddie is absolutely horrifying when he wants to be. And also sometimes when he doesn’t mean to be. 

“Just lay down in bed, Eds. You’ll get better sooner if you rest.”

“Don’t need rest, ‘m not sick.” Eddie makes a noise like he might throw up if either of them make a wrong move. He clears his throat when the feeling seemingly passes. “Gotta finish planning out the next session for when the Party comes to visit next week and then work on some acous- acousti- ACHOO!” Eddie sneezes and a snot rocket launches toward Steve in a majestic arch of green and yellow nasal mucus. Steve, luckily, manages to move out of the way and not be hit by the bio weapon. 

“Did you just say “achoo” as you sneezed?” 

“I didn’t sneeze,” Eddie says, like a lying liar who lies.

Steve looks from Eddie to the small puddle of snot on the floor. “What’s that then?”

Eddie scoffs a couple of times, searching for a reasonable answer. His brain isn’t working at full capacity, which is reasonable considering he’s very sick, despite his resolute denial. “Science project.” 

Eddie lives and breathes gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, Steve will give him that, but Steve has mastered manipulate, mansplain, malewife. Especially that malewife bit. If the government ever comes around to letting Eddie put a ring on it Steve would make a wonderful trophy wife. 

“Yeah? What’s the hypothesis?” That’s right, Steve knows science words. He may be a certified Ken but he’s not stupid. Eddie, of course, is a Barbie, but that was never really a question.

“It’s about projectile paths and stuff.”

Steve cannot believe how endearing Eddie is even when he’s being this gross.

---

[moonlit-orchid]

Something about Korosensei is that even if somehow lost his powers, or was transformed back to human, the government would still want him killed.

Not because he was an assassin, but because he's a victim and a witness. The kind of experiments he was subject to, I don't know if it was ever stated but I feel like there's no way the government didn't have a hand in it. And if that's so, they'd want the witness and victim killed. Even if he was harmless, they'd still want to kill him.

And you know what also hurts about him? Korosensei in the end is just a victim of circumstance. He grew up alone and outright nameless, what else was he going to become? The fact that the person to teach him compassion was one of people who was supervising him while he was a lab rat, and the fact that he was changed by her, just because she showed him a small amount of genuine kindness, is really telling of the place he came from.

And I know about the first student of his, but think about it. He was an assassin. His life was built on being a good liar. If his student was kind to him, he would have felt like it wasnt really him he was kind to, but instead the persona, and honestly he would be the last person to trust anyone with anything.

Korosensei is just... so messed up. Like, how could you grow up and live the way he did and not end up fully messed up by it? I think we forget it because we see Korosensei as he was at the end after growing and learning and him continuing to grow and become truly empathetic and loving to his students, and because we almost always saw him happy and smiling, but he's honestly just obviously been through so much trauma as well. I genuinely feel like if any character deserved to become a villain, he did, yet in the end, he didn't.

I just have some thoughts and none of the them are coherent.

Also why does his human form look like he has the softest hair-

[valtsv]

The implications "every god is a god of lies" has for VAL though? As thee liar's saint?

Every god is a god of lies and at the end VAL tried, for once, to be a god of truth and suffers for it

to be honest the real answer is both - because every god in the silt verses is a result of that human need to build something to keep our awareness of the inevitability of our own mortality at bay. every god is a god of lies, because every god is a construct that we've created, often to allow ourselves to look the other way and live in blissful ignorance in spite of the horrifying practices and systematic failures happening around us (and relying on our continued participation in them), yes, but also simply to give ourselves a sense of purpose and possibility against the inexorable, ever-encroaching tide of death. every god is a god of lies, in service to the one true god that governs us all - the oldest; the only thing that has been or ever will be certain. the end of all things.

setting that aside for a second, i think it's important to remember that VAL's god isn't just a "god of lies" - that's a human label that we've affixed to it in order to make it easier to explain to ourselves; to reduce it to a manageable size that we can believe we're capable of understanding and controlling. but the Last Word is actually a rhetorical god - a god of the power of words, and how we articulate and express them. VAL is the mouthpiece of a god that embodies what Shrue decries in their speech - words. and those words do nothing but uphold those terrible lies we've built our society on; reinforce them and bring them to the surface. it's intentional, i think, that the only times we see VAL enact any kind of meaningful change that doesn't simply uphold the status quo and perpetuate the cycle of violence are when she decides not to speak, but to act - such as when she tells carson she doesn't want to speak to her mother, or decides against killing the man who showed her a small but genuine kindness. her agreement with Shrue's broadcast is, i think, an acknowledgement of this - she's demonstrated a capacity for self-awareness before, after all (though she does tend to retain her conviction in her own delusions in spite of this - which, speaking as someone who experiences psychotic episodes, is a brilliant portrayal of the self-contradictory reality of living with delusional thinking, but i digress - so what she'll decide to do with this awareness, if anything, only time will tell).

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

would you be able to write something with little April with Ron caring for her? maybe April is big at first but for some reason regresses involuntarily whilst with Ron? they're already my favourite autistic father daughter duo on tv and id love to see what you thing would be the same or different about their relationship when April is regressed :)

Little!April x Cg!Ron - Together

Regressuary day 4 … yes it’s early, i meant to save this as a draft but accidentally posted it instead whoopsie

Word count: 813

——————————

Everyone in the parks department knew about April’s regression. It was almost impossible to keep it hidden when they spent everyday together and April could be triggered into regressing at the smallest of upsets. However despite it being widely known knowledge, few were actually let into the small circle of people April allowed to care for her when little. This wasn’t because she disliked any of her coworkers more than others, it was simply that little April could be quite emotional and it required a certain amount of patience to handle. This meant that while Leslie and Ann spent a great deal of time with little April, Ron had rarely encountered the girl in her regressed state.

Ron and April were up late, organising fliers for Leslie’s campaign. Usually neither of them were the sort of people you’d expect to find up late in the office working on anything government related but Leslie Knope did bring out the best in everyone. “How many more to go? Ben wants to know when to come pick me up since Andy laked my car.” April asked, growing tired and fidgety as the hours passed.

“50,” Ron replied with a huff. He’d much rather be at home eating a stake right now. “About an hour if we don’t stop.” April nodded, looking down at her hands to avoid Ron’s eyes. It was well past her bedtime and the tiredness sneaking over her was loosening her grip on her adult headspace.

They continued to work at a steady pace, silence engulfing the room - not unusual for the two who found comfort in each other's lack of need for small talk. The silence did however make April’s soft whines and huffs impossible to miss when she finally slipped into her regression. Ron looked up from the paper he was folding, a look of confusion gracing his gruff features. “April? You alright?” He asked, characteristic stoicism in his voice. April glanced up, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Fine,” she mumbled, though her voice came out wobblier and more petulant than she’d intended. Ron quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at the younger girl.

“You don't look fine,” he frowned, observing the girl's shifty stature. “You know how I feel about lying.”

April huffed, stomping her foot against the carpeted office floor. She didn’t want to tell Ron she was feeling small because she didn’t want him to see her so vulnerable. “Feel small,” she admitted crossly, not knowing whether it was worse for him to think she was weak or a liar. His face softened at the admission, though some hesitancy crept across his features.

“That’s what’s bothering you?” He questioned, having expected something much worse and far less easily manageable to be at play. April nodded. Ron was the first to admit he wasn’t the best with kids, and he was nervous to take care of April for the first time, but if he had to take care of anyone he’d want it to be her. “That’s nothing to get all worked up over, do you have your stuff in your desk drawer?” He asked. April nodded and left Ron’s office to go retrieve her pacifier and stuffed puppy dog from her desk. While she was gone Ron cleared away the rest of the fliers, Leslie wouldn’t mind finishing them up tomorrow. “Come here kiddo,” he smiled fondly as April returned to the room. He pushed his chair back from the desk so April could climb onto his lap. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing but the kid seemed exhausted and there wasn’t exactly anywhere more comfortable to take a nap in the office. “Is Ben still coming to pick you up?” Ron asked quietly, not wanting to overwhelm her with his voice. April nodded,

“In half an hour.”

Half an hour, Ron could do that. He held her for a while, feeling her body relax into his grasp, he couldn’t admit how comforting he found it. Eventually April squirmed and whined, “I’m bored. Can I have a story?” Ron thought for a moment, what kind of story could he tell a kid? Certainly none of the books he’d read recently.

Ron ended up making up a story for April, about a little fruit bat who lived in a strong and sturdy tree and made friends with pirates and fairies. April giggled and gasped as he exclaimed the silly twists and turns until eventually they heard Ben entering the department.

“Dada!” April exclaimed, shuffling off Ron’s lap.

“Hello my little bat,” Ben cooed, hugging her tightly. “Have you been good for Ron?” April nodded eagerly.

“Grandpa told me a silly story ‘n he used lots and lots of voices!” She exclaimed. Ron chuckled heavily, feigning an offended look to Ben when April referred to him as ‘grandpa’ but deep down he was honoured by the name.

[booksinmythorax]

On Tyranny and Tumblr #10: Believe in truth.

To abandon facts is to abandon freedom. If nothing is true, then no one can criticize power, because there is no basis on which to do so. If nothing is true, then all is spectacle. The biggest wallet pays for the most blinding lights.

In other words, Snyder is saying there's a reason an administration might, for example, remove data sets from the CDC website.

Snyder spends a lot of time in this chapter with 1930s German philologist Victor Klemperer's "four modes" of the death of truth under authoritarianism (Snyder, p. 66-69):

"Open hostility to verifiable reality": Lies. Just straight up boldly lying, about anything from the cause of a plane crash to the outcome of an election, especially when the facts are right there and visible to everyone.

"Shamanistic incantation": "Endless repetition" of slogans and nicknames and soundbites until non sequiturs and ad hominem arguments sound like verified fact. For this to work, huge groups of people need to feel more comfortable accepting lies than they do accepting that they can be fooled.

"Magical thinking": "The open embrace of contradiction". This isn't the radical acceptance kind of stuff that you'd learn in therapy to better your individual life. This is 2 + 2 = 5. This is replacing fact checks with, as one former student of Klemperer's put it, "[abandoning] yourself to your feelings and focusing on the Fuhrer's greatness instead of the discomfort you are feeling at present". Scary stuff, but stuff people do all the time.

"Misplaced faith": Basically making a leader into a god, leaving no room "for the small truths of our individual discernment and experience". In this way, truth becomes "oracular rather than factual". Instead of facts being about what can be verified, they become about who said them best and appealed best to the emotions of frightened, poorly educated, prejudiced people.

Snyder also highlights a passage from Romanian playwright Eugène Ionesco's account of his experience in the 1930s with a counterfascist group trying to formulate arguments against those put forth by the Nazi Party.

"From time to time, one of our friends said: 'I don't agree with them, to be sure, but on certain points, nevertheless, I must admit, for example, the Jews...', etc. And this was a symptom. Three weeks later, this person would become a Nazi."

Here are some ways we can focus on believing in truth in our online lives:

If you know a public figure is a large-scale liar - for example, if a reputable newspaper made a list of over 30,000 lies he told in 4 years - don't listen to a word they say. Don't watch the press conferences. Don't focus on quotes or soundbites from them. Go ahead and assume they're only lying if their mouth is open. If they make a factual statement, consider it an accident. Truth isn't about one person, anyway.

Use Media Bias/Fact Check to determine the validity of sources you find on the internet. Try to only get your information from sources with a good fact check score.

Don't repeat falsehoods. Before you reblog or repost anything that appeals to your emotions - makes you angry, makes you sad, makes you feel grim satisfaction or hopelessness or even schadenfreude - research. Find out who said it, when, to whom, and why. If you don't have time to research, don't spread it around.

Learn to read critically. Kelly Jensen wrote a great guide to critically reading a press release from the federal government in 2025.

We covered this a little bit in #9: don't use the same nicknames, slogans, or labels for things that the fascists do. Repeating the "incantations" makes them sound more like truth.

Say true things as loudly as you can. We don't know exactly why a plane and a US Army helicopter crashed over the Potomac River as of this writing, but a lack of air traffic controllers may have contributed to it. Don't even repeat the falsehood in your attempt to refute it. Just research and then say the true thing.

Feel free to list other applications in comments or tags or on reblogs.

Other lessons from On Tyranny:

#1: Do not obey in advance

#2: Defend institutions

#3: Beware the one-party state

#4: Take responsibility for the face of the world

#5-7: Remember professional ethics, Be wary of paramilitaries, and Be reflective if you must be armed

#8: Stand out

#9: Be kind to our language