#we must survive

[vibrantlyspring]

Happy Pride to everyone!!!!

(Made a tradition where I draw Aranee in a dress every pride)

Theme for this year is Pheonix, to be reborn and to shine bright with your flames.

Always be yourself and survive 🤍🩵🩷

[beatsforbrothels]

Ohbliv - We Must Survive

[circeofjagd]

Makeup and the Poison Dart Frog

I had to say something - and included a transfemme makeup tutorial related to it. Radio Nowhere is a travel blog started by my wife @naomi-no-kimi and I. We'll be posting more from its actual Tumblr in time.

[radio-charlie]

Unless somebody very severely fucks w my head u do not have to worry about me aspiring to become a war criminal. its never been my nature to hold onto hate easily

[demigods-posts]

me whenever i see people write off annabeth as an annoying and controlling and crazily jealous girlfriend with anger issues. understanding that the foundation of the rhetoric is based off of annabeth's behavior toward percy and rachel is tbotl and tlo. except annabeth's behavior in those books is soley due to the surplus amount of traumatic experiences she's had. ranging from her parents neglecting to care for her well-being when spiders attacked her in the middle of the night as a seven-year-old. to watching everyone she's ever dared to care for die, abandon, or leave her for a better option. so it's much more likely than annabeth was expressing great mental and emotional distress during a period of her life where it was uncertain if the boy she loved would drop dead on his sixteenth birthday. on top of having to uphold a reputation as the best strategist at camp half-blood and devise a plan to fight in a war and save the world before she's a sophomore in high school. so the notion that annabeth is an abusive and toxic individual lacks the consideration that maybe she was just a child forced to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders at all times.

[firewasabeast]

okay so I wrote a fic based off this post that I made earlier today so... enjoy!

read here or on ao3

Thomas Kinard is eighteen years old and he just graduated basic training.

He's standing among nearly two hundred other graduates, all filled with some form of anxiety and excitement.

They're all standing at attention, although Tommy knows everyone's eyes are searching the audience.

They've all been given their orders.

They stand at attention until a family member or loved one comes and taps them out. Only then can they be at ease.

Tommy had called his dad a couple weeks ago. Left him a message on the landline about the date and time of his graduation. He hadn't expected a call back. The payphones at basic weren't great and you didn't have much spare time to be on them, but he knew his dad would get the message.

He wrote a letter to his grandparents, just in case. His aunt on his mom's side, and his older cousins too.

They'd been proud when he told them he was graduating early, joining the service, would be celebrating his eighteenth birthday in boot camp.

Even his dad has slapped him on the back and told him he was glad he was finally becoming a real man.

Tommy's eyes scanned the crowd, but it was hard to make anyone out.

He waited patiently through the ceremony. His heart skipped a beat or two when people began making their way toward the graduates.

He stood still, only his eyes darting around as the people beside him began to get tapped out. He listened to the cries of parents who had done nothing but miss their children for the past 10 weeks. Saw grown men cry at the site of their moms. Heard the laughter from boyfriends and girlfriends who surprised their partner by showing up. Watched little kids run to their sibling and wrap their arms around them in a hug.

He was certain that only a few minutes had passed, but it felt like hours.

As more and more seconds passed, his heart continued to pound, but for a different reason now.

Surely he wasn't the only one. As he glanced around, he didn't see anyone else waiting. No, he couldn't see everybody, but he was near the back in the center row so he could see most people, and they all had somebody with them.

A hand tapped his shoulder and his head jerked to the side, eyes wide. He felt a lump in the back of his throat when he saw his commanding officer standing beside him. He had the softest look on his face that Tommy had ever seen.

Pity.

“At ease, soldier.”

Tommy takes a breath, relaxes his posture. His CO moves in front of him, shakes his hand. “You've done well, Kinard. You should be proud.”

Tommy nods. Can't find his voice to speak.

He feels tears in his eyes, but he blinks them away.

He shouldn't have expected anyone to show up anyway.

He lowers his head as he walks off the field. A part of him wonders what it was all even for?

*****

Thomas Kinard is forty-eight years old and he just got promoted to captain.

It's not something he ever thought about until the past couple of years. He wouldn't get to fly much as captain. There's more paperwork, more politics, more people to answer to.

But there's also more stability. Especially with being the captain at Harbor. A regular schedule, forty-eight on and ninety-six off.

It was safer. There had been a scare a couple years back. Engine failure on his bird. He went plummeting toward the ground and, if not for a dense area of trees slowing his descent, the chopper would have exploded the second it hit the ground.

He survived, obviously, but his injuries were severe. He had a broken pelvis, fractured leg, thirty stitches down his arm, cranial bleeding, and ended up in a coma for nearly two weeks.

The recovery was long and so, so painful but he had Buck by his side every step of the way. Even the times he'd push Buck away, tell him to please just leave him alone, Buck stayed. He stayed and he learned all the physical therapy techniques and he loved Tommy through all of it.

Flying hadn't felt the same since. He was relieved when he had fully recovered. When he took his recertification classes and passed with flying colors.

But the freedom he had always felt with being in the sky changed into something completely different. There was anxiety. Relief when he was back on solid ground.

He stared out into the crowd, at the little girl sitting on Buck's lap.

Juniper. Six years old and looking more grown up every day. She was glancing all around the room, her eyes never staying in one place for very long. She kept pointing at things, leaning back to whisper into Buck's ear. He'd nod, smile, then whisper back. Tommy was sure they were swapping facts.

So much like her father, he thought.

He'd never forget the day he got home from the hospital. Juniper, only four then, staring at him as he was wheeled into the house. She was clutching onto Eddie's hand, her knuckles snow white. She hadn't gotten to see him in nearly a month, besides an occasional Facetime call.

Once he had gotten settled into the hospital bed that had been delivered to the house the day before, he called her over to him. She slowly climbed up onto the bed, Buck helping her settle beside Tommy without really touching him.

“You scared me, Papa,” she spoke quietly, eyes wet with unshed tears. “Please don't do it again.”

No, flying was never the same after that.

His eyes wander over the rest of the crowd.

A small smile breaks out over his face when he realizes he knows everyone in the first two rows.

Besides his husband and daughter, Maddie, Chimney, and Jee were there. Hen- or, Captain Wilson, now- and Karen. Eddie, Ravi, and Athena. Behind his family were all the firefighters from Harbor. They had been thrilled when they heard Tommy would be the new captain. He'd been taking cues from Bobby recently, starting special dinners with the crew and getting to know them better before he even became captain. He wanted his team to know he'd be there for them, that they could count on him. From the excitement they showed when it was officially announced that he'd be the new captain, he was fairly certain he'd done a good job so far.

The only person not in the audience today was Bobby. But, that was simply because Chief Nash was the one leading the ceremony.

Tommy takes another look around at the family in front of him. He waves at Juniper. She grins wide, showing off her missing front teeth, waves enthusiastically.

His eyes meet Evan's. Tommy gives him a wink. Buck smiles, winks back.

He straightens his posture as the ceremony begins.

He thinks, this... this is what it's all for.

[spiderine]

I just want to tell you a story about my family, a lost photograph, and a lost child.

I think a lot of a photo I lost many years ago. It's a simple photo of my mom and my Aunt (we'll call her "Benni") as small children, standing next to each other. Aunt Benni is holding a handbag.

When my mom showed me the photo, she said, "Benni was always hanging on to that handbag. She wouldn't go anywhere without it."

So. Once upon a time, at the end of the 19th century, a family was driven out of Kyiv, so they went to one place they knew they could find acceptance: Vienna, a very cosmopolitan city with a large Jewish population. The family found a home, became successful and they lived happily ever after for a generation or so.

Specifically, until 1938.

Yeah. So.

To make a very long and horrific story very short so we can focus on that photo, "fortunately" (in an appalling, heart-rending way) there was something called the Kindertransport. England managed to smuggle 10,000 Jewish children out of the occupied lands and get them to England.

Yes, Benni was one of them. She was three years old. Like many of those children, her entire family was consequently slaughtered and forever wiped from the face of the earth. Unlike many of those children, she had an address to go to. Hundreds of kind, heroic strangers arranged for Benni to cross an entire ocean to find her family's distant cousins who lived in Brooklyn, where she was raised as my mom's sister.

Aunt Benni died decades ago. We Jews say, "may their memory be for a blessing." And it is. Decades later, on another continent, in another millenium, her descendents are thriving. You better believe more than one is named Benni.

Y'know what? Fuck this fake name shit. Her name was Barbara Victor (z'l), and she survived. Her family was not wiped from the face of the earth because she lived, and so did her children and children's children.

But she always, always carried a bag with her essentials, even at the age of six. Because she knew in her bones that one day she would have to run again.

thanks for listening.

[ganondoodle]

kind of expected that the ability breakdown wouldnt get that much traction (especially on twitter bc if it doesnt do well in the first few hours it might as well be dead) but what i didnt need to wake up to was looking at my twitter notifications and thinking there was a long comment on it at first but then i read it and it turned out to be some guy having dug up one of my old totk tweets where i talked about how zelda was treated-

and if a quote retweet with a thread attached already starts with "this entitled brat didnt understand that zelda was being a history nerd by being in the past and getting to experience it herself" with two screenshots attached of the end of totk with zelda staring at the cam all uwu (which has ??? to do with their point??) i dont even want to know what else was in that thread

if thats how the majority of the fandom is then im even less surprised that nintendy doesnt even have to try to write anything good :I

ah yes, i am a game nerd, and by putting me in a game where i stand around doing puppy dog eyes while being shoved around by NPCs is me being a game nerd OBVIOSULY

[beingcultureis]

Being living in U.S culture is: :/ Oh. No.

[uncanny-tranny]

And another thing that gets me about the human condition is how we weren't even meant to survive this world alone - humans with humans. We chose to trust certain animals, to nourish them, to be symbiotic with them, to love them like we love ourselves. I think a lot of people talk about how selfish it is for humans to take advantage of animals, but I think that's too simplistic. It's closer to friendship - if you do not foster the relationship, then it simply won't go anywhere, and I think the implication that animals can't ever know anything for themselves, for their survival, is also human-centric and selfish (selfishness not inherently being a bad thing).

It's just nice to know that we want to be around people - we want to be around comfort and security and safety so much that we now have animals by our side. Every time I cuddle with my cat, I think that we weren't meant to survive this world alone; she is shaped to fit in my chest, and my arms were made to wrap around her.

[manygreetingsfriend]

i’m sooooooo normal about the god of war series. so incredibly normal i liked it a normal amount and would be so chill talking about it. don’t worry about the sign

[triumviiirate]

i spend a lot of time thinking about the empty space between jim and bones at spock's funeral

[amygdalae]

brothers in ovulating arms

god's most impregnable warriors

[bumblingbabooshka]

B'Elanna, Neelix, Tuvok and Chakotay needed to star in an episode where they just talked about their different beliefs and approaches to spirituality/religion. Paired off and all together. I need to gain more insight. I need characterization and I need it to be messy.

[mrs-gauche]

So I just woke up and... I didn't just dream this, right? It's actually happening today?? We get a REAL trailer, the marketing is gonna start in earnest AND we'll get a release date?? After ten flippin years.. it doesn't feel real guys. 😭 I'm so full of all kinds of emotions. 🥹

[fugitivehues]

to take / to make