#a million and one minutia

[twistedminutia]

A Million and One Minutia: Nuclear Weaponry

Read the previous chapters here: Ch. 1

Gray teaches the Heartslabyul upperclassmen about nuclear power and weaponry.

The school library is where I spend a majority of my time, much to Grim’s protests. I’m not exactly sure what irritates him so much about it- maybe it’s just the principle of the thing, because he naps most of the time anyway, and it’s more comfortable than Ramshackle. Fall has set in pretty firmly, and the dorm’s walls do not keep out the chill. The library is warm, comfy, and I don’t have to worry about a leaking ceiling if it rains.

It’s also the only place on campus I can get internet access from. I don’t have money for a phone, and even if I got one for free, I can’t pay for an internet plan. Crowley hems and haws whenever the subject comes up, so I’m not holding out hope. So. Library computers it is.

Naturally, the internet itself is recognizable, but weird. Like most things here. The search engines are different, but have a similar format to what I’m used to. The websites are different, but they’re clear analogues of websites back home. It’s at least intuitive to navigate, if a little strange.

Research provides me with some details, but the more I look at, the more incomplete it feels. I can’t explain it quite right, but it feels a little like trying to read a detailed fanfic for a series of movies you haven’t seen. I can intuit a lot of it, but then a website will casually mention something I don’t know about at all and I’m completely lost again.

I’m in the middle of trying to figure out if hippogriffs are real actual animals here or just some sort of cryptid when I hear footsteps nearby. I glance up at the right moment to make eye contact with Cater, who waves enthusiastically. Trey follows his gaze and gives me a wave of his own. They pause near me, and I nod at Riddle, who’s the last member in their little group. He nods back.

“How’s it going?” Trey asks. “Ramshackle’s all right? You’re getting enough to eat and sleep?”

Ever since Trey learned that I am not of this world, he’s been subtly momming me. It’s nothing too bothersome- just frequent questions about how I’m doing, if I need anything, if I’m taking care of myself all right. Usually it’s no big deal, though I did get an impressive lecture once when I’d been in such a hurry that I hadn’t brushed my teeth when leaving Ramshackle in the morning. Apparently, anyone in a leadership position at Heartslabyul has formidable scolding abilities.

Still, it’s not like I don’t appreciate the gesture. Not least of all because Trey has been slipping me baked goods. Keeping them away from Grim so that I can get even one bite has become a full-time job.

“Everything’s fine,” I say. “Are you here to get some studying done?”

“More or less,” Trey says. “Riddle and I are trying to get a study guide set up for the exams coming up, so the freshmen will have something to follow during the study groups.”

“I’m just here to snap some Magicam pics,” Cater says, holding his phone up to get a shot of himself against one of the bookshelves. “Dark academia is super trendy right now.”

“You’re going to study for exams and set up a guide to help other people study?” I ask, ignoring Cater to level a skeptical look at Riddle and Trey. “Don’t you ever give yourselves time to rest?”

“Of course. A certain amount of rest ensures that the brain is functioning at peak level,” Riddle huffs. “I have a half an hour of leisure before bed every night. And helping other people study is shown to be one of the most effective forms of learning and retaining information.” He draws himself up, heels clicking together. “I’m going to get the class textbooks for the basic freshmen courses.”

He heads off down the rows of bookshelves, heels clacking against the ground. I share a look with Trey. “He is actually doing okay, right?” I ask.

“I’ve been making sure he doesn’t push himself too hard,” Trey says. “Cater’s been helping keep things in order too.”             “Gotta keep the housewarden happy,” Cater agrees, thumbing through the photos he’s taken. I take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Trey’s bag. It’s gotten to the point where my mouth starts watering when Trey shows up. He’s completely Pavloved me. Assuming that Pavlov is still a thing in this universe. Probably not. I wonder what classical conditioning is called here. Probably just ‘classical conditioning.’

Trey catches me staring and shakes his head. “I gave you a dozen cookies three days ago.”

“Yeah, and I live with a furry black hole,” I say, jerking a thumb toward Grim. He rolls onto his belly, mumbling something indistinct.

Trey laughs. “Well, I don’t have any food on me.”

“Even if you did, you probably shouldn’t have it out here,” Cater says, glancing deeper into the library. “Riddle’s going to be back at any moment.”

Good point. Biggest, most well-known rule ever: don’t bring food into a library. “Oh, right,” I say. “I guess Riddle would go nuclear if he saw someone eating in here.”

I thought it was a fairly reasonable thing to say, but apparently not, because both Cater and Trey swivel toward me with identical looks of bewilderment. “What?” Cater says.

Oops. Maybe making fun of the housewarden is only for the people actually under his rule. Deuce and Ace never had a problem with it- though their relationship with Riddle is often contentious and they’re perhaps not the best examples to look toward for the appropriate treatment of housewardens. I shrink down in my seat. “Uh- Y’know, was just saying that he’d be pissed if we broke a rule- I didn’t mean anything by it, really- I guess I’ve just been around Ace and Deuce and they complain about him all the time so I thought-” You’re throwing your friends under the bus, stop talking! “It wasn’t an insult toward him or anything-”

Cater waves a hand. “No, I mean, what does ‘going nuclear’ mean?”

I pause, giving time for my scrambled brain to slip back on the tracks. “Wh- going nuclear?” I glance at Trey, but he’s clearly just as mystified as Cater. “You know. Blowing your top. Going ballistic. Freaking out. He would have gotten really mad.”

“Huh,” Trey says. “I’ve never heard that one before.”             “I guess it’s not a terribly common phrase,” I say.

“Nu-cle-ar,” Cater says, rolling the word around in his mouth. “Huh. Is that another word for angry in your world?”

“No,” I say, a little caught off guard. “You don’t know what nuclear means?”

Trey shakes his head. “I just said I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Yeah, but I thought you just meant in that context, not that you didn’t know what nuclear was.” I look at Cater, but he just shakes his head at me.

“What is it?” Trey asks, settling into a computer seat next to me. Cater perks up and leans in.

“W-well, it’s-” Uh. Crap. I know what nuclear means in a very general sense, but not enough to describe it with any sort of accuracy. My first instinct would be to look it up, but I’m not sure how useful that’s going to be- if Trey and Cater haven’t even heard of it, is it something they’ve even discovered here? “Um. So. I only learned about this briefly once, so this maybe isn’t all that accurate. But I think it’s… some kind of atomic thing? Like, if something happens on an atomic level, then you get a substance that produces radioactivity, which can be really dangerous, and people use it for power and bombs and things…” I pause. Cater and Trey are just staring. “Okay, uh. Do you know what atoms are?”

Trey nods, but Cater just shrugs. “I never paid attention in science class. They’re really small, right?”

“Yeah, they’re the smallest substance. I think, if something happens to the nucleus, then you get radioactivity, which is a kind of dangerous energy that you can use for… some things, I think. X-rays are radioactive, and that’s why you have to use a lead blanket when you have them…” Cater and Trey are still staring at me like I’m speaking gibberish. In fairness, I barely understand what I’m saying. “I didn’t really pay attention in science class either, okay? I’m not very good at explaining this stuff.”             There’s the ‘click click’ of approaching heeled footsteps and Trey looks around me. “Hey, Riddle, do you know what nuclear means?”

I spin around in time to see Riddle placing a stack of books on the table next to him. He’s using magic to carry it, presumably because the stack is almost as tall as he is. It makes quite an impressive thump. “Yes. I’ve done some reading on nuclear physics, so I’m familiar with it, though I’ll admit it’s not a subject I’m all that interested in. Why?”

It figures that Riddle would casually bring up reading about nuclear physics. I bet he was reading science textbooks for fun at age six. “We were just talking about it,” I say. “I mentioned it and Cater and Trey didn’t know what it meant.”

“I’m not surprised,” Riddle says. He goes up on his tiptoes to reach some of the books at the top of the stack. His fingertips don’t quite touch the cover of the topmost book. “It’s- ugh- not a subject most people bother with.” He makes one final grab at the book, then gives up in the most dignified, I-meant-to-do-that way, and just magics it down. “I’m surprised you know about it, considering…” Riddle trails off, apparently realizing there’s no way out of that sentence that isn’t an insult. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Just. Considering.”

“Everyone knows about nuclear power where I come from. I mean, not everyone. But most people. There’s a big debate over whether or not we should use it for power right now, which freaks some people out, but-” I stop. Riddle is giving me the sort of horrified look usually reserved for when a person has a cockroach the size of a hot dog crawling up their back. “What?”

“You’re trying to use it for power generation?” he says, aghast. “Why? Nuclear materials are highly unstable and dangerous! It’s a fascinating hypothetical subject, but no one’s willing to put money into such a volatile substance, and certainly no one would agree to use it over magic-generated power.”

“Well, my world didn’t have magic,” I say a little sulkily. “We kind of had to make do.” Riddle frowns, looking vaguely disturbed. “It being dangerous is why there’s such a big debate over using it- no one wants to use a substance that could poison you near their homes, but it produces a lot of energy and it’s less harmful in the long term than things like oil. And people are careful with it. It’s not the same as getting power from a nuclear bomb or something.”             Riddle’s expression sours further. “A nuclear… bomb?”

“A bomb that utilizes the energy of a split atom or something. It’s supposed to be insanely powerful, and even if you don’t get blown up by it, it irradiates the surrounding area, and then that radiation makes people sick, so it’s a pretty effective weapon.” I grope for an appropriate metaphor. “It’s… um, it’s powerful enough that if you dropped one on NRC, the RSA would get hit by the shockwave. And it would probably give any survivors radiation sickness.”

“Woah,” Cater says. “Why would you make something like that?”

I shrug. “There wasn’t that good of a reason- it was made in a war that a lot of people were trying to win and it sort of… happened because people wanted a weapon that would end the war. But then people started making more of them, because everyone was scared of having it used on them, so they needed one of their own to protect themselves, and then everyone ended up with so many of them that they were an apocalyptic threat so no one could fire them. It all just sort of snowballed.”

“Huh,” Trey says. “That actually reminds me of the end of the war between the faeries and the humans.”

“Really?” Cater says. Trey swats him gently with a scrap piece of paper.

“Trein was just talking about it in class last week. Toward the end of the war, humans and faeries were using such destructive magic against each other that battlefields were tainted with blot and destroyed. The battles were almost always stalemates, and no one was winning anything. It’s one of the main reasons the peace negotiations started to gain some traction.”

Riddle nods. “There were other political reasons, of course, but that was where the biggest push for peace started. The first major act of human and faerie cooperation was restoring areas of land that were damaged by blot and magic.”

“Did it work?” I ask.

“For the most part- I think the Jupiter Corporation assisted heavily with the cleanup, and there are still a few areas that need restoration. But it’s largely healed now,” Riddle says.

“Then you’re doing better than we are,” I say ruefully. “You can’t really clean up radiation that way. Once it’s there, it’s there. The only thing you can do is wait until it fades naturally.”

“What does radiation do?” Cater asks. “Is it like blot?”

“It makes you sick, I think. There’s radiation in a lot of things, like sunlight- I think that’s why it can give you sunburns. But the kind of radiation the bombs used would make you sick. Deadly sick. That was one of the big concerns with them- even if people don’t die in the initial blast, the radiation would kill them off.” That and the nuclear winter, but I don’t mention that bit. All three of them look vaguely unsettled anyway.

“But that never happened,” Trey says, a little like he’s trying to reassure himself as well.

“No. And they decommissioned enough bombs that even if we had a war now, it probably wouldn’t kill everyone.” I consider. “Maybe. There’d probably be pockets of people who would survive. Civilization would definitely collapse, though. And radiation takes thousands of years to go away, so there’d be big parts of the world that would just be uninhabitable.” The three Heartslabyul boys exchange uncomfortable looks. “But it’s fine now. Mostly.”

“It’s impressive,” Riddle says after a moment, “what your world has managed to achieve without magic. I never would have thought that a place like that could become just as advanced as our world.”

“Thanks,” I say, uncertain what else to respond with. It’s not like I personally did any of the advancement he’s talking about. “Just being in a world where magic exists is pretty incredible to me. Thought it’s a lot to learn, since I’m not familiar with the history or how magic works or any of that…”

Something in Riddle’s eyes sparks and I trail off, trying to figure out exactly what I said. “Then you will join us for our study session. With midterms coming up, there isn’t a moment to waste, and having a remedial student will help Trey and I practice teaching the rest of the fist years.”

“Remedial student?” I sputter, indignant. I’m doing pretty well, considering I’m having to relearn everything from scratch in a high school setting. Then I realize that Riddle has just sentenced me to a study session from hell. “Uh, actually, I need to-” My gaze falls on the snoozing cat-beast next to me. “Grim and I should be getting back to Ramshackle before it’s too late, you know, we have to make dinner and there’s cleaning to do and-”

“Nonsense,” Riddle says, waving me off. “Trey has already made a nutritious meal back at the dorm, and I’m certain there’s enough for you to take part.”

I shoot Trey a pleading look, but he just nods. “There’s enough.” I glare at him. He shrugs back.

“And the cleaning can wait until midterms are over. There’s nothing more pressing than your studies.” Riddle waves his pen and the pile of books next to him starts hovering again. “We’ll head to the dorm once I check these out.” He pauses, then hands me a book on the top of the pile. “You can start with this basic overview of magical energy and its formation in nature.” He heads off to the front desk without waiting for my agreement, the book tower floating along next to him.

“Thanks for the help,” I mutter to Trey and Cater.

“It’s not that bad,” Trey says. “Riddle’s a good teacher. And even if you don’t need the help, it’ll be good for Grim. He could use the review- Ace says he barely stays awake during Trein’s lectures.”

True enough. Though it’s irritating that I have to be roped into it as well. “Fine, fine. C’mon, Grim.” I poke him. “We’re studying.”

“Myahhh,” he mumbles, shoving his face into his paws. “Five more minutes.”

I roll my eyes. “We’re going to Heartslabyul for dinner. Trey made it.”

He shoots to his paws. “Why didn’t you say so? Let’s go!” He hops down from the desk and starts booking it toward the entrance of the library. I pick up the book Riddle gave me and join Trey and Cater in heading toward Riddle. Hopefully by the time Grim realizes we’re actually attending a study session, he’ll be too full and scared of getting collared again that he won’t make a fuss. Maybe. It’s a bit of a long shot. Whatever. Trey will probably give us dessert, and that’s enough of a win to make the whole evening worth it.

#twisted wonderland #twst #a million and one minutia #yuusona #twisted wonderland headcanons #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #twisted wonderland fic #twisted wonderland fanfic

[ofsappho]

THE KNIFE OF MUAD'DIB (Paul x OC!Reader x Chani)

Wherein na-Duke Paul Atreides is not the Bene Gesserit's only prospect for the Kwisatz Haderach. Raised by Paul's side as his playmate and servant, Chryse, the Bene Gesserit's cuckoo child, will forge a new future for her master.

(previously posted on AO3 as Themis)

PART I: JESSICA

Lady Jessica focused her intent gaze on the Reverend-Mother’s... gift. This gaze, to which the minutiae of observation was second nature rather than practiced pretense, followed the lines of the girl-child’s high cheekbones up towards large eyes that appeared to overwhelm the face they were set in.

She’d seen that look in those eyes before. Perhaps a thousand times over, a million times over. Reflected in the mirror back at her on Wallach IX, reflected in the shadowed eyes of the girls she barely remembered. The girls that one by one fell, until amongst a hundred girls there stood five Bene Gesserit.

Jessica’s skirt rustled against the floor as she stalked closer, circling the child, examining every angle.

How interesting.

Such control in the child’s bearing, belied by such fear.

Paul had always been fascinated with off-world animals in the filmbooks; the agrarian creatures that inhabited Caladan for over twenty generations bore no thrill to her clever son. Jessica had never understood his fascination as the filmbooks rendered such organisms dead to her. Mere simulacrums of life with soulless eyes.

Perhaps one such simulacrum stood before her now in the form of a human girl. “Reverend-Mother, does she have a name?”

“We call her Chryse. However, if that name does not suit you, Jessica, you may name her as you wish. It is of no consequence to us.” Reverend-Mother Mohiam’s demeanor certainly hadn’t changed in the slightest from the days when she served her overtly. When Gaius Helen Mohiam spoke, everything from her inscrutable countenance to the even tones of her voice commanded subservience. “You will not harm nor bring harm to the girl-child. It is our one order.”

Jessica watched as Mohiam brushed her fingers against Chryse’s jaw to tilt her still face up towards the sallow light of the glow-globe. Not even a muscle twitched in her smooth facade. Jessica wondered what sort of chaos lay beneath, whether the girl would be like the jagged rocks under the beckoning surface of Caladan’s oceans. Only a fool would dive into the dark water blindly.

There was no other option but to acquiesce. “You have my word. She shall not come to harm under my care or the care of House Atreides.”

“Good.” A look passed between them, lasting only a second. Within that second lay an eternity.

The Reverend-Mother strode from the room with an economical gait, not sparing another iota of energy to look back.

Jessica knew then the precise nature of this “present”.

How many men had failed in the making of the Kwisatz Haderach? How many years, decades, centuries had her sisters carefully tended the most sacred plant, a mind that could bridge space and time. If Paul failed -

She stopped that fearful thought in its tracks, held it in the cradle of her mind’s eye, then let it pass through.

The Bene Gesserit were patient like mountains were patient. Time was an endless resource. It was better to cultivate many plants of good stock than to nurture a small garden and watch as its leaves shrivel and diel. Chryse was not and could never be the Kwisatz Haderach. Perhaps that fact ought to have assuaged Jessica’s fear. Yet - if Paul should die while he was only eleven, the House of Atreides forever extinguished, the child seemed poised to become the next vessel to carry the bloodline of the Kwisatz Haderach. Only ten years old, and she had mastered the prana-bindu like an adept three times her age. Who knew what sort of terror she had been bred to create?

Her son had already shown promise even without her training. Paul might flourish, grow into a man, grow into the mind that the universe needed. That would never come to pass if Chryse supplanted him.

Mohiam must have felt some minute degree of affection towards Jessica. If she hadn’t, the Reverend-Mother would not have left the girl in her care. The blade was double-edged; the Bene Gesserit cared not for which of the two survived, only that one of them did. Motherhood had softened Jessica to the point where she felt some empathy for her poor charge. Not enough empathy to entirely stay her hand, but enough that she wanted the girl to live. Enough that she intended to lift the burden of killing her from Paul’s narrow shoulders.

“Come here, girl.” Once she was close enough that the Bene Gesserit-trained woman could stretch out a single, finely-boned hand and press her fingers to the weapon’s temple, she bade her stop.

Jessica brushed her mind carefully up against Chryse’s, wary of the mind traps the girl had surely been taught from birth.

There were no traps. Not even a token protest.

Chryse had fewer defenses than a newborn infant. Her mind was splayed out in the open; even the slightest whisper of Voice guaranteed complete obedience. The Bene Gesserit had truly forged a weapon of a girl. She hadn’t a psyche of her own - where there should lay a personality was instead filled with iron bars of mind conditioning. Jessica’s heart ached for her. No child deserved to live like that.

A moment passed wherein she further plumbed the depths of her mind. Jessica knew then that Chryse could never use a Voice of her own. The same breeding that had left her mind wide open had left her unable to Speak. But of what use to the lineage of the Kwisatz Haderach was a girl entirely unable to use the Voice and critically susceptible to it?

The vision came on suddenly, as the waves did against the shores of Caladan. A figure whirled amongst dozens of men as they fell to their knees. The lady knew those movements by heart even though they felt wrong. It was the Weirding Way, without a doubt. At the same time, every action was utterly alien. Chryse moved through the battlefield like a valkyrie of old with hands that created ruination with every twitch. Her deficit of Voice was more than made up by her complete mastery over the physical realities of others. Lungs collapsed inwards; hearts refused to beat; nerves froze. Blood. Oceans of blood.

Without meaning to, her fingers fell away from the girl’s temple in astonishment and the vision dissipated like morning mist.

The Kwisatz Mother had bred an abomination.

The laws of nature should have forbidden such a being from coming into existence. No doubt, she wouldn’t have without the careful guidance of the Bene Gesserit. What infinite combination of genes could produce a person who could bend human bodies to their will? A weapon to be wielded against the very molecules of anatomy? Chryse had quite a bit further to go before she would become the war goddess Jessica saw in her vision, but her raw talent remained a cudgel poised over Paul’s head and ready to end his life.

This was an unacceptable outcome.

Forgive me, Jessica thought; forgive me for what I must do. “You will never harm Paul Atreides. You will never allow harm to come to Paul Atreides. You will always remain loyal to him and never betray him in the slightest. You will lay down your life for him.” She swallowed down her guilt as she watched her Voice take root in the blank shell of the young girl’s mind. That Chryse was now freed from Bene Gesserit absolute control was a small consolation for the crime done against her. For Paul to live, this girl must be subjugated.

Her wide, dark eyes blinked. There it was - a tiny spark of life in her young, solemn face. Chryse was just a girl. A young one, at that. Innocent. Guilt ensnared Jessica’s heart and held it in a chokehold. The sisterhood had not completely uprooted her weak personality, but there was no doubt that their conditioning program left permanent scars. Jessica’s Voice would not have affected Chryse nearly as much without it.

The lady resolved always to be tender to the girl. At a minimum, she could improve the quality of Chryse’s life. Jessica told herself this as she called for servants to take the girl, bathe her, dress her, and prepare a chamber for her near Paul’s. Was it so selfish of her to want her son to live? At any cost? Paul’s new companion would always be treated well and never punished. There were worse fates. For the Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit could commit any number of sins.

But Jessica knew her mind and herself. This was a blood debt that she could never repay.

Paul would be safe, and the girl’s powers would never be used against him. That would be her consolation.

-

Her palms smoothed over the muscled plains of Leto’s back. The Duke was her husband in all but name, and Jessica reveled in how he relaxed at her touch. At the school on Wallach IX, she’d learned everything but the warmth of trust and partnership built from deep, mutual love. There was no room in the lives of the Bene Gesserit for any kind of love besides the love of the sisterhood. It was this trust and love that had led Jessica to birth Leto a male heir instead of the daughters she’d been commanded to produce.

Leto reluctantly pulled himself away from her to pick through some papers strewn across his desk. “What’s this I hear about a new handmaiden joining our household?” 

Involuntarily, Jessica inhaled. “Ah, my new charge. Chryse. An orphan, Bene Gesserit trained but not suited to the task. Reverend-Mother Mohiam, the Imperial truth-sayer, has entrusted her safety to me.” She kept her hands out of Leto’s line of sight so he couldn’t see the tension in her white knuckles. Ever so slowly, the lady exhaled. Again, guilt. The guilt threatened to consume her whole.

Her husband had always been far too intuitive for his own good. “She is young.” Sometimes a conversation with him was like playing chess. Every word, every tone, every movement playing off those of the other. Jessica enjoyed such a conversation far more when the stakes were not nearly as high. Perhaps he knew even subconsciously what she felt, what she had done.

Jessica let the silence in the air hang.

Leto sat at his desk, his brown eyes never leaving her smooth face.

She conceded first. “It will be some time before the girl will serve as my handmaiden in truth, but is she not of an age with Paul?” Not quite a lie, not quite a truth. A certainty presented as a question even though she had already decided the answer.

With no other child from her in sight and no political marriage alliance contracted to provide others, her son remained at the forefront of his father’s concerns. “Paul must keep his attention turned towards his lessons. I trust you, Jessica. He cannot be distracted.” Leto was known to others as inscrutable and honorable. She could read every emotion that flickered across his handsome face. He was worried; that much was plain. He was worried about what the legacy he’d built and the enemies he made might do to his kind son. His only son.

Even though he would never know it, the solution to his worries was close at hand. “My love, every child needs a companion. There are no children of an age with Paul on Caladan and certainly none suitable for his station. I’ve seen his loneliness. I know you have too.” The truth in her words was undeniable. Only eleven years old, and Paul had never known a friend his age on Caladan. He glued himself to his filmbooks and the stories of Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck. Leto cared for more than just raising an heir. Jessica knew he loved Paul. He worried about his well-being. Her husband would grant her this wish. Check.

“What better place for a friend than a girl in his mother’s service? They won’t have to be parted for quite some time. And there is no better judge of caliber than the Bene Gesserit.”

His resigned sigh echoed in the quiet of his study. Checkmate. “You’re right.” Leto’s footsteps as he got up and drew closer to her were a comforting rhythm. She knew that rhythm by heart.

“I do tend to be.” The impulse to feel the rhythm of his pulse beneath her hands overtook her, and she let it. Jessica reached out to press herself to him. Her Duke responded in kind as he gently drew her arms around his neck and brushed his forehead against hers.

It was more than enough sometimes to breathe in the same air as her beloved. To know that she shared space, time, and life with him.

Leto pressed a kiss to her mouth. Without any further words, he left the room.

Her fingers pressed against her closed eyes as if to alleviate the burden she’d taken upon herself. All of this would be justified in the end. Jessica had to keep faith in that.

Reposting this unfinished dune fic i started during the 1st movie and orphaned on ao3! Seems as if there's interest. LMK if you want on the tag list.

#dune #the dune books #dune books #dune movie #dune 1 #dune part 1 #dune part 2 #paul atreides #chani #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x reader #timothee chalamet #lady jessica #paul x chani #paul atreides x chani #paul atreides x you x chani #dune fanfiction

[slow-drowned-angels]

You should share, but someone will take advantage of you if you share too much and too freely.

You should ask questions, but never be nosy. Actually, people like talking about themselves, it’s a good conversation starter! What was that about being nosy? Oh, that only applies to when they don’t want to talk about something, which they will rarely explicitly say!

You shouldn’t gossip, but everyone gossips and god damn you need to be more social! So you should gossip, but have the good graces to feel guilty about it, or at least pretend to.

You should be honest, but not so honest that you’re going to hurt anyone’s feelings. How to tell? Well, just use the golden rule! You wouldn’t care if someone said they didn’t like your dress? Huh. I guess don’t use the golden rule.

You shouldn’t tell lies, but everyone else will tell millions of small lies all the time and never acknowledge it.

Express your feelings! No, not like that, like this. And don’t be too angry/sad/happy/etc or else you’re “doing it for attention.” But if you don’t show emotion enough then you’re weird and robotic.

Tell me about your interests! Oh god, not about legal minutia again! Have normal interests!

The meeting starts at 9am sharp! No, no one is going to be particularly bothered if you show up at 9:05am why were you worried about that?

You worry so much, lighten up!

This schedule is strict! No, it isn’t. We just say that it’s strict so that people are slightly more on-time than usual. Why are you here so early?

Wait this schedule is actually strict! We didn’t make that clear at all, but you should know because this event is of greater importance! Why are you late?!

#today on autism #everything they teach you in preschool is wrong :( #<genuine disappointment> #void.txt #brain thoughts

[seat-safety-switch]

When the fires finally got put out, the reporters were there. This was odd to me at the time, as I was convinced in this timeline that "reporters" were obsolete. These folks, such as they were, were in fact contractors, eking out their precarious pseudo-employment by selling tasty nuggets of news to the omnipresent media sentiences that decided which of them we got to see on TV. Er, the other thing, not TV.

Better people than myself have complained about the decline of journalism, especially local, human-interest stories like the one I was now at the epicentre of. What's important here is that the story was so exciting, so salacious, so profitable, that I was swarmed like toddlers playing soccer. A million questions were shouted at me. Near-infrared beams scanned the contours of my skull to see if I was perhaps some kind of wanted criminal or previous-generation internet celebrity. One of the firefighters even stopped, mid-dousing, to see what all the hubbub was about.

Here now is the story I couldn't give them then. It was Lobsterfest at Red Lobster. For those of you unaware of the tradition, it is a period of time in which Red Lobster gets a little cooped-up and starts making crazy, experimental dishes for cheap.

Where this becomes a must-visit event for me is that Red Lobster corporate is historically very bad at pricing, especially when a short-term promotion is being forced on untrained management. Someone with a devious enough mind and absolutely no shame about arguing the minutiae of the menu can easily combine the cost of two meals into enough lobster to fill a bathtub.

I have many great memories of Lobsterfests past, which lured the entire Safety-Switch clan out of their various hibernations in an attempt to do what we did best: exploit legal loopholes in restaurant promotions. When I was 14, my uncle got shanked by a waitress at the former place off Halton when he asked for a sixth refill on his "bottomless" shrimp cocktail. He still ate another full one before collapsing at the table from blood loss. My dad covered the bill, half out of shock and half out of awe.

Well, Uncle Disconnect was going to be really proud of me this year. It's just as well, because I didn't have time to buy him a Christmas present while he was in jail and all (his attorney stresses I must tell you it was for an unrelated matter.)

Still, "driving a line manager insane enough with special requests for substitutions that he tries to burn his own kitchen down with a homemade Molotov Sizzler®" is the gift that keeps on giving all year.

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟏   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   NAKAWE PALACE, APRIL 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

   ❛  Leonor had always worked. She could not remember a time when she hadn’t; in even her earliest memories, she was a focused observer on the periphery of business underway. Like designated heirs before her, she lived according to a strict regime premised on the idea that education must be experiential. Instead of attending school, Leonor’s day saw her shuffled between academic tutors and the myriad meetings that occupied her mother and grandmother. It eventually became insufficient to only sit on the sidelines, however silent and attuned. Instead, Beatriz would—without a glance, as her eyes remained fixed upon some poor minister or combative legislator—throw out a question Leonor came to know well. Her grandmother would ask, nonchalant, “ What about it, Leonor? "

❧ progress :^)

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Uspana’s public employees knew they held bit parts in the education of their future sovereigns. They played along when necessary but, for the most part, could ignore the occasional intrusion. Now an adult, Leonor wondered what they truly thought during those moments when the queen pretended to consult with her grandchild on questions most adults would find confounding. It was routine for Leonor. It had been routine for those before her. Yet, she understood that they were all extraordinary—that their lives were tied up in unyielding bows of pageantry and ritual, even behind ostensibly closed doors, while millions of other children were allowed to be immature and irresponsible.

Even the children of politicians had childhoods. Despite lacking many firsthand comparisons, she had wistfully perceived the gulf between herself and Arturo on many occasions. The difference between the child of a politician and the child of a royal was simple: he could be anything he wanted to be, but she was born for one singular purpose. That purpose was too immense for childhood. One had to give, and it was for each successive generation a foregone conclusion as to which must go.

Leonor could recall with perfect clarity the first time her grandmother had posed the question. A dozen pairs of eyes fell upon her while she sat like a stone in a rigid antique chair against the boardroom’s far wall. Barely ten years old, she felt the room go sideways as her heart raced and her skin warmed. Her feet didn’t touch the floor in that chair; she had held them perfectly still as she stared at the shiny black leather of her shoes. In her mind, she scrambled for an answer to a question whose operative words she could not define.

Still, she understood something crucial. Beatriz didn’t want her opinion on the minutiae of the budget being discussed. What she wanted was to know Leonor had apprehended a different, much more crucial element of the meeting—if she understood, as any good ruler must, that all politics are inseparable from personality. Leonor finally repeated something she heard a minister say, choosing with care the person whose words she would echo. She knew that this man was an enemy of the queen. She also knew that Beatriz was currently pretending to like him because he was despised by another colleague, one whom Beatriz disliked even more. Leonor couldn’t wrap her child’s mind around the fiscal debate, nor did she know the full details of these relationships. She had nonetheless paid attention to them, and she understood the dynamics the way other children might the convoluted conflicts of a schoolyard playground.

It was in this way that she developed the skills her work required. Some of it came naturally. Leonor knew herself to be intelligent, perceptive, and diligent. As she grew older, questions of policy and public relations became easier to tackle. She could weigh in on debates with her own opinions, and she could form those opinions based in part on her command of the ever-shifting social networks that so often controlled the workings of government. Sometimes, Beatriz embarrassed her. She sat back, smug and prideful, other times. More than just pleasing her grandmother, being able to actively serve the Crown was fulfilling. It was satisfying work—work laid out, not just by custom, but by divinity itself. Leonor believed this was indeed what she had been born to do, and the pursuit of doing it well gave her life clear, constant purpose.

In early 1991, she no longer felt that way. Her purpose had been taken in the only legitimate way available; the death that triggered the process, meanwhile, had robbed her of the desire to find a new purpose. It was possible she would never be satisfied or fulfilled again, and she toyed with the idea of accepting that proposition. No one seemed to care what shape her life took next. She could rot in her apartment for years if she wanted.

Yet, soon enough, a realization crawled its way from deep inside her. She could not completely hold back the unpleasant feeling of stagnation that such a life threatened. Leonor was not ready to entomb herself. She was still intelligent, perceptive, and diligent. She had taken to her work for more reasons than just obligation and routine. Grief had obliterated much, but those fundamentals remained the same. Time’s ceaseless passage, stretching days into weeks and weeks into months, eroded enough of the mind-numbing pain to reveal this basic truth. Leonor needed to do something. Although there was nothing she desired to do, passion was not a prerequisite. The choice made itself: Leonor, in truth, was only really capable of doing one thing.

TRANSCRIPT:

BRISIDA | The Office of Crown has finalized multi-month strategic plans for each of you. At the end of this period, we’ll reassess. It goes without saying that this is a very serious moment of transition.

BRISIDA | We have to change your positions in the world—overnight, basically. It’ll take longer to sell everyone on that, but we’re committed to persuasion. We have no other choice.

BRISIDA | Recent focus groups have been conclusive, so we’ve based our plans and recommendations on those conclusions.

ATTENDEE 1 | I just don’t trust him. It’s hard for me to see him as the crown prince. There’s something inauthentic— ATTENDEE 2 | Foreign! I heard his kids don’t speak Uspanian. ATTENDEE 1 | Yeah. How can he know Uspana that well if he’s been away so long? With Safya, we knew she knew us.

ATTENDEE 2 | I have a clear memory of Arnaut. What I remember is trouble. There was the gambling—oh, just astonishing amounts of money. Nonsense. They kicked him out of the military because he couldn’t cut it. More nonsense. He was a very unserious boy. ATTENDEE 3 | My question is has he outgrown that?

ATTENDEE 4 | She was a cute kid. Always liked her. Nice girl. ATTENDEE 5 | I still have the “Queen Leonor” mat I wove—and the commemorative coasters from 1970. Sad. I mean, do I keep them? ATTENDEE 6 | I bet she’s crushed, the loss itself aside.

ATTENDEE 6 | My husband was laid off—a job he worked for twenty years. He said when it happened that it was his identity and part of him was dead. Killed, you know? It must feel that way. Hard to recover. [Murmurs of agreement]

BRISIDA | We’re going to hew closely to what people know. The Office of the Crown Prince will resume its predecessor’s projects, including the education initiative we’ve had on ice since … [Clears throat]

BRISIDA | Think of it as training wheels, for now.

ARNAUT | I have to read all of this?

AIDE 2 | The princess would, my prince. ARNAUT | By tomorrow?

[Arnaut sighs]

BRISIDA | My queen devised a solution for you, my princess, which is that you will also resume your existing work. We’ve slotted you back into the initiative alongside your uncle, per her instructions.

BRISIDA | We wouldn’t want to let your familiarity go to waste.

ARNAUT | —so, uh, that’s the plan. Full steam ahead with what Safy had you doing, and you’ll have my support the whole way. Education matters. Universities. Colleges … Very cool stuff, absolutely. Excited to get started and, ah, do some learning myself.

[Leonor groans]

BRISIDA | We’ve arranged initial media sit-downs. The presses have been running hot this entire time, but we will be creating opportunities to engage on our own terms.

BRISIDA | Performing well is imperative, although what exactly constitutes “well” may vary.

BERNARDO | You’re in the education business now. There’s been talk in the assembly of revisiting the USI Act of 1981. Are you in favor?

ARNAUT | Well, that would depend. BERNARDO | On … ?

ARNAUT | If you can tell me what the “USI Act of 1981” is.

MAYA | There’s been unprecedented interest in you as of late. Have you been paying attention to the coverage? LEONOR | It’s not my focus.

MAYA | But, you’ve seen some of it? LEONOR | I really don’t have time to stay current with those things.

MAYA | It seems like you have plenty of free time! Certainly, it’s been reported that your evenings are stacked with entertainment. You weren’t known as a nightlife person until recently, much less the staggering-out-at-three-in-the-morning sort.

LEONOR | Sure, I go out from time to time. MAYA | Alright. Diplomatic.

MAYA | Let’s switch gears. Will you be speaking to Mencia Cipac? LEONOR | Nothing has come across my desk yet. MAYA | It’s rumored she’s starting a new project—topic: you. LEONOR | That’s Miss Cipac’s business. I wish her well. MAYA | Would you speak to her? LEONOR | I’m speaking to you.

LEONOR | Will Mother Beatriz be meeting with us soon? BRISIDA | She is scheduled to meet with Prince Arnaut next week.

BRISIDA | Her time is finite. We have to prioritize. LEONOR | Of course.

#ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.ep04

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

might be a bit of a boring question but how do you feel about the Mazda b series? and if you have nothing to say about that one then I'd love to hear your thoughts on the tacoma

So thoughtful of you to give me a backup question, but worry not! If I've got nothing to say about a car, I will find it, goddamnit, if it'll take me two months! Which it very nearly did. Sorry. Anyhow! In reverse order of generations:

1. 5th

it would take state-backed effort to get me to care for -hell, care about- this last one, which did not excel in looks nor performance nor, from what I can tell, reliability nor comfort. It feels like it would be a very complex thought experiment to come up with the buyer this would be the best choice for, even in its time. (However, while the enthusiasts' metric of evaluation is competition, the owners' metric is their own expectations, so it is certain and valid and good that millions of owners were chuffed about their purchase and I love that for them and do not whatsoever seek to rain on their parade.)

2. 4th

Neat! Even beyond the spectacular decals, I just love Japanese pickups of this era (the ones yankees call "small pickups" and we call "pickups" because we don't have those useless fuck-off-gargantuan shit yankees love to pretend has any use). So much so that I want two of them. Neither are this (they're the Toyota Hilux and the Nissan D21), but objectively they're all about the same and my preferences are purely based on aesthetic minutiae.

3. 3rd

First I see of it! The front is kind of unfortunate, but it reminds me of the Yugo so it's on my good side. The rear taillights also have a kind of Soviet quality to them, I'm sure there's some -az car with rear lights just like those.

4. 2nd

HELL FUCKING YEAH *checks pronouns* SISTER! I love this thing. Especially the REPU, where PU stands for Pick Up and RE stands for...

Yep :D, this was the time when Mazda was shoving rotaries left and right into applications they were comically unsuited for absolutely no discernible reason, and we're all glad that they did, because Lord knows no one else had the lack of sense to do it.

Yes the ROTARY POWER* on the back of it is factory! *BITCHES

5. 1st

Yeah, this is at the edge of car period that excites me. Not that I think it looks bad or is bad or anything, it just starts to feel too... historic for me to connect to? I guess a Mazda pickup from the early '60s is just not for me.

It seems I guessed wrong.

This Ghibli-esque little thing is the 1959 Mazda K360, being a kei truck with the then maximum of 360cc of engine. It was a popular taxi (taxi!) in Myanmar...

...where it kept being produced until the early '70s, when it got replaced by the other other truck Mazda was making by the early '60s, the B360.

Wow I really was wrong there huh.

These were probably a sort of "Eastern Europe getting Fiat's scraps" kind of deal, since while these were manufactured in Myanmar from '72 to the mid-90s (mid-90s!), by 1972 Japan had already long been getting the B360's replacement i.e. the Mazda Porter, which OOOO0000°°°°°ººººº⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰ my GOOOOOODDDD

OMGOMGOMG THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IN THE WORLD

I don't even want to own one of these, I want to cuddle it. I want to protect it.

OMG THIS ONE HAS TINY LITTLE HAYASHIS WITH TINY LITTLE LETTERING ON ITS TINY LITTLE TIRES

*faints* *a feeble, wiggly speech bubble appears from below the table* Tacoma's good btw. Best of segment by miles.

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question: if you liked this post, you might like those - or the blog’s Discord server, linked in the pinned post!

#mazda b series #mazda k360 #mazda b360 #mazda porter #the great catchup

[growingnerves]

Trying to find a nice way to put this… what Norman said on that podcast was not okay. Insulting fans and admitting to being responsible for writers losing their jobs with such nonchalance, is downright disrespectful- although I’m thankful the truth didn’t stay buried. It’s careless behavior and it doesn’t reflect well on AMC considering this is a repeated offense.

Not everyone involved in television has to be an excellent public speaker but there should be someone at the helm who understands how to conduct themselves in interviews. Every show needs a spokesperson to be a direct link to the audience: for promoting the show, and making the fans feel included as well as appreciated. As a fan I’ve never wanted creatives to bend to the whim of every loudmouth on social media. Shallow fan service has never benefited any show. However, fair criticism and honest feedback should be welcome. Serving the self-interest of a man with an ego the size of the Eiffel Tower won’t do the show any favors either. AMC, like any other network, presumably wants someone as the face of their series who reflects positively on their brand. I’m hoping we will see some significant changes going forward to win back the trust of the fans. And I believe Melissa McBride’s input is essential to do so.

Viewers are considering ethics when it comes to their TV watching habits now more than ever. We are becoming aware of the optics of the media we consume. We can examine what we know of the practices at individual studios and networks in an effort to support shows that most closely align with our own values. We don’t need to compromise our high standards when there are endless other options. To stay in line with the audience, TV has to evolve alongside us. If AMC can’t keep up with the demand for a diverse cast and writer’s room, I’m not subscribing and I suspect other viewers will gravitate elsewhere too, as they have been.

Women’s voices are valuable even if historically they’ve been taken for granted. Women tend to have a wider outreach in their storytelling than the repetitive POV that is often seen from male showrunners. Men have not been faced with the same obstacles. They haven’t had to contort themselves into a million different shapes to be taken seriously.

Men’s voices were the only ones heard for a long time in film and television. Male protagonists were given autonomy and multifaceted stories, while women’s representation was not prioritized. Women only existed in relation to their male counterparts- and the damsel in distress just isn’t that interesting to watch. Because of this, women have projected themselves into the considerably more compelling male characters, delving into the minutiae to find some semblance of relatability in typically masculine portrayals. This has been a challenge to other marginalized groups on an even larger scale. How long have POC been sorely underrepresented, having to find ways to see themselves in white stories? And the LGBTQ+ community has been limited to watching primarily straight cis romances. The representation we do get is often times minimized to tokenism. The absence of diversity impacts everyone who doesn’t fit the same generic prototype. There are countless experiences and lifestyles that take on a wide range of forms which have not yet been in the spotlight. We don’t need another lone ranger on a motorcycle. Another mysterious brooding male antihero, yawwwwn.

Marginalized individuals have been prompted to work a creative muscle that the everyday man has not- to both suspend our disbelief and also dig into the details to uncover the inherit humanity in stories where we don’t necessarily identify with the protagonist.

These are the voices who are going to be the best conduits for fresh stories because they’ve already had to do the work to investigate human complexity to find themselves on screen, within characters who don’t necessarily look or act like they do. Not only can they build on already existing material but they can introduce original concepts. Television has been oversaturated with the straight white man running his mouth unchecked for too long. We don’t have to settle for that anymore when we can switch over to another show, one that better represents us.

#caryl #melissa mcbride #the book of carol #twd caryl #just bitching

[senualothbrok]

Hi friend!

I'm bored at work too!

Few questions for you (answer whichever ones you want)

What made you start playing BG3?

What is your favourite ever piece of fanfic? (doesn't have to be BG3, mine is a Sherlock one from like a million years ago)

What is your favourite colour?

What are your top 3 favourite films?

MY FRIEND THANK YOU FOR THESE AMAZING QUESTIONS <3 <3 <3 <3

What made you start playing BG3?

My hubby actually played it first and told me that I would love it. I had two start stop attempts to get into it but got flummoxed by the DnD combat mechanics and how to actually play the game (LMAO a true noob). But once I got into it, and realised it was very much in the vein of Dragon Age/Mass Effect/The Witcher 3, I became absolutely obsessed. And now I've lost my life to Gale Dekarios. It's hilarious because I now know a ridiculous amount of minutiae about the game and am on my fourth playthrough, and my husband doesn't even remember Mystra's name.

2. What is your favourite ever piece of fanfic? (doesn't have to be BG3, mine is a Sherlock one from like a million years ago)

I know this is awful for a writer but I don't read much - both because of some fatigue/focus issues but also because for a while I really struggled with toxic comparison. When I read other fics, I found that it made me really self-loathing and would really adversely affect my own creativity. I do feel guilty about this and I know there is some amazing stuff out there - sorry to all my fellow writers, I'm working on it.

An absolutely phenomenal fic I was reading before I stopped is @bludazey's Hellish Rebuke . It's an Ascended Astarion x OC fic, and the writing is exceptional.

I also love all of @tumbleweed-run's smut. She inspired me to start writing smut of my own!

I am also going to give a big shout out to my bestie @practicallydeadinside-blog and her epic God!Gale saga Ambition's Folly. I love her OCs, the relationship dynamics between all the characters, how she writes comfort, and the tragedy of God!Gale generally. Her writing just keeps getting better and better, and I am incredibly proud to call her a friend.

3. What is your favourite colour?

Turquoise.

4. What are your top 3 favourite films?

Arrival, Annihilation and Ex Machina. I watch these films again and again and never get bored of them.

@sorceresssundries I'd be interested in your answers to these questions as well! <3

#personal #ask

[bitchesgetriches]

I’m sure you get a lot of asks, and it’s understandable considering how great you ladies are! I recently read your sustainability swap post (I loved it!) and I wanted to recommend something I didn’t see on there that’s incredibly important to me.

Swap out tampons and disposable pads for menstrual cups and cloth pads!! It’s an adjustment for sure (esp the menstrual cups) but it’s so good for the environment, your health, and frankly your wallet. I made the swap to a menstrual cup abt 5 years ago and haven’t had to buy tampons (minus a few early cycles until I started carrying cloth pads w me) since — and I’ve had the same cup and it’s still working great!

When it comes to the cups ItsJustKelli on YouTube has a great playlist where she reviews multiple diff products to make choosing easier (https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLVehiHoQpDmAQwa9UrHXF9IBzHp3cUenE). It might take some trial and error, but it is well worth the switch, considering your average cup costs abt $35 and (if taken care of) can last at least 5 years. And as far as cleaning it you really only need Castile soap, a repurposed toothbrush, hot water and a decent stainless steel pot to sterilize it in (any company you buy from has a How-To page on the cleaning aspect. They will try to sell their Special Soaps DONT LISTEN ITS A SCAM! Just buy Castile soap and toothbrush same end result!)

As for the cloth pads, there are so many websites for them, and most offer starting kits. They cost more than your average box of disposables, but rather than lasting you a few cycles they’ll last you YEARS. This website https://menstrualcupreviews.net/reusable-menstrual-cloth-pads/ has a list of them. The only brand I can recommend I got off Amazon (guilty as charged) and are great for getting started. (wegreeco Bamboo Charcoal - Reusable Sanitary Pads | Panty Liners | Soft Cloth Menstrual Pads - 6 Pack with 1 Cloth Mini Wet Bag (Medium, Luxury ) https://a.co/d/cTf4mfF)

Ultimately, when I was considering switching I weighed the pros: 1. Save money long term, 2. No longer contribute to the growing pile of blood-soaked, chemical-ridden used tampons and pads clogging landfills, 3. No longer run the risk of introducing toxic chemicals to my body via products made by companies that don’t care abt consumer health; and the cons: 1. More money upfront (which can be circumvented by shopping around and setting aside some money as is feasible), 2. Having to get more comfortable w my body (which ultimately was a positive), 3. The gross factor (downside: yeah you’ll likely see the blood, neutral: it’s your blood tho and you know where it’s coming from; neutral: w the disposable vs. cloth pads the end result isn’t that diff beyond instead of chucking it in the trash you chuck it in the washing machine), and 4. The adjustment of carrying a few cloth pads around (instead of the disposables — not that big of a change).

End note: I did not mean to turn this ask into a novel, but I am just so passionate abt this topic. So many ppl will go into the minutiae of cloth rags and cloth napkins instead of paper towels and paper napkins, the evils of plastic straws, and reusable bags instead of plastic — but not a peep abt the amount of disposable products used for 3-5 days (longer if you’re unlucky like me), every month (or every few depending on birth control, irregular cycles, etc.), every year for decades (think between 3-4 decades depending on start time and menopause) for millions of women worldwide. That’s SO MUCH. And here are two, slightly difficult but worthwhile, choices that can decrease the amount of disposable products clogging up landfills by the thousands long term. As one of the websites I linked says: “The average American woman uses nearly 17,000 tampons in her lifetime — or as many as 24,000 if she undergoes estrogen replacement therapy. And that’s just tampons.”

HELL. FUCKING. YES! Thanks so much for chiming in, baby. We love it when bitchlings share advice with the whole class, so never be afraid to write a long ask with good information.

Here's that sustainable swaps article, as well as what we've written about menstruating while poor:

21 Ideas for Sustainable Swaps That Aren’t Shitty, Expensive, Greenwashed Garbage 

Blood Money: Menstrual Products for Surviving Your Period While Poor

If you found this helpful, consider joining our Patreon.

#sustainable swaps

[kickedshins]

readalong riverdale playlist guide

songs have been added in no particular order. sometimes songs tie to broader visions of a musical episode, but some are just “they should have shoehorned this in somewhere in that classic riverdale way”. all songs are musical theater songs. yes i know they did superboy and the invisible girl but they did it wrong (sorry cami, you were great). this is an eternally updating playlist and guide. enjoy!

Corner of the Sky, from Pippin: Archie!!! This literally could happen anywhere at any point in time. What is this song if not Pippin going left Pippin going right. Put this wherever your heart desires. I want to come up with a Pippin musical episode plot because it’s so good. Jughead singing "Simple Joys" over a montage of Archie not dealing with his problems… I’m getting carried away.

Kind of Woman, from Pippin: Veronica would sing this in an entirely unselfaware way. I’m thinking early season two. Isn’t it a beautiful vision?

Superboy and the Invisible Girl, from Next to Normal: THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A COOPERS SONG. I’m mentally rewriting the n2n episode with this being a Coopers song.

Could I Leave You?, from Follies: A timeskip Veronica and Hermione duet at their respective shitty husbands. It ends with Hermione resignedly going back to the minutiae of marriage and with Ronnie shooting Chad in the face. Don’t worry about how this messes with plot this isn’t about that.

Your Fault, from Into the Woods: Read this post and envision a beautiful ITW episode.

I’ve Never Been in Love Before, from Guys and Dolls: Okay honestly? Archie and Josie duet. Cuter than "Fight For Me", imo.

Mother Knows Best, from Tangled: Alice, duh. Season one or season seven.

Do You Hear the People Sing?, from Les Mis: Season six union stuff baybee! Hand in hand with "Bread and Roses". It also would be really funny to have KJ and Vanessa, who in my opinion suffer the most from iPhone Voice in the cast, to do such a grand musical-y song. It would not be very good but boy would it be entertaining.

Therapy, from Tick, Tick… Boom!: BUGHEAD DYSFUNCTION DUET YES PLEASE. Let’s say season four. "Exquisite Corpse" vibe, but suppress it all. Maybe the problem’s simply codependency!

Get This Right, from Frozen II: Okay hear me out this is one of the most stupidly romantic songs I have ever heard. An Archie song, obviously. Timeskip Varchie. Maybe he’s actually about to propose, maybe not, doesn’t matter. All that matters is how much I genuinely think KJ could have slayed this song.

Being Alive, from Company: Obviously go read Jughead’s Weird Fantasy right now if you haven’t already. But even in Riverdale canon I would want Jughead to sing this in timeskip. If we’re getting specific it feels very Tabby tucking him in after he gets too drunk at the key party. Sorry for nixing the gay subtext by putting it next to a Jabitha moment jail for a million years for me I know. It could also be after Archie calls him when he’s in NYC. There you go, gay people.

Something’s Coming, from West Side Story: Season one or seven Archie. Just feels very wholesome. I think it would be cute. Could be performed on stage if season one.

How Did We Come to This?, from The Wild Party (Lippa): A Veronica La Bonne Nuit performance that somehow becomes a group number (she’s the only one singing on stage though). Season three. No "Queenie Was A Blonde" tag. I could make an AMV to this song. I should not do that I already have three in the works. But I could.

Run Away with Me, from The Mad Ones: This is purely self-indulgent because I like on-the-road Jarchie and I have a soft spot for this mediocre musical for personal reasons. 

Suddenly Seymour, from Little Shop of Horrors: Choni! Choni forever and ever amen. Season seven, I think, when Cheryl finally accepts that she’s a lesbian and is facing homophobia from her family/society/etc. Cheryl is Audrey which is funny because “mama was poor” lol no she wasn’t. They should go all the way and get the rights to change the lyrics to Suddenly Toni. Neither Madelaine nor Vanessa has the right voice for this song even a little bit. I do not care. 

Partner in Crime, from Tuck Everlasting: Betty and Archie. In my wildest fantasies this is like a season four flashback to them as kids and we have kid Barchie sing this song but other than that I think this could be a number when they’re hooking up in timeskip. Even though I don’t approve of Barchie hooking up in timeskip because I hate straight people I do think they would slay this. KJ specifically I think would sound great on this, it’s not really a Lili song but oh well. Another version that would be incredibly funny but not as good would be having timeskip Veronica and Reggie sing it about, like, actual crime.

Totally Fucked, from Spring Awakening: Kevin-centric group number in the style of "In" or "Beautiful". Could be anywhere from seasons two to four. Maybe we include the “did you write this?” thing with Betty and Jughead as Melchior. They did some expose for some paper. You know how it is. I wish the Riverdale characters were allowed to say fuck so bad.

Moving Too Fast, from The Last Five Years: Timeskip Jughead. It almost fits but doesn’t in a way that’s oh-so-Riverdale.

The I Love You Song, from The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee: Sad. Shared between Betty, Veronica, and Cheryl, but Veronica-centric (could be an unhinged La Bonne Nuit performance from her with cutaways to the other two, actually). Whenever the most amount of parents in this group are in jail. There’s at least one meaningful shot of Jughead reacting.

I’m Breaking Down, from Falsettos: Okay this one is sort of cheating because I don’t necessarily want to fit it into the actual canon of Riverdale I just think if Archie had come out in high school Veronica would have pulled a "The Ladies Who Lunch" and done this at La Bonne Nuit. I think Cami would body that.

What Is This Feeling?, from Wicked: Hear me out. Bret/Jughead duet.

For Good, from Wicked: Betty and Veronica, season seven. Or quad number in late s4/early s5 before the timeskip. I think Lili would sound gorgeous on this, especially the bridge.

Two-Player Game, from Be More Chill: Look Joe Iconis wrote music that was used in Archie: The Musical let me have this okay. Season one Jarchie. Jughead as Michael obviously even though he’s nothing like Michael and Archie is nothing like Jeremy. I just want to make Cole Sprouse say “favowite”.

Mother’s Gonna Make Things Fine, from A New Brain: I have a whole beautiful vision for an A New Brain musical episode that takes place in season four. It’s too long to get into right now but just know it’s there and it’s gorgeous and I’m going to fully flesh it out soon. Once again this is obviously an Alice song, except instead of well-meaning Jewish mom it’s overbearing evil (albeit MILFy) WASP. She’s fretting over Betty because Betty’s fretting about college or Jughead or something who cares. I just need Mädchen to do this.

Change, from A New Brain: This would happen about three quarters of the way through the episode. In classic Riverdale fashion they’d get a little insensitive with it and this would be a Ronnie La Bonne Nuit performance. Change the government kill the mayor! Say that! Even if the mayor is your parent! Especially if the mayor is your parent!

Brain Dead, from A New Brain: This is my favorite part of my A New Brain musical episode. It’s once again a Bughead repression duet. Just imagine the lavender marriage dream sequence anger tango they would do. I also think Cole Sprouse wouldn’t sound too horrible on this song. High praise. No lyric changes Jughead is saying “as the MD lifts me in his cruisy chiseled arms”. I’m getting angry about the fact that I will never get to see this on my screen I’m going to do some breathing exercises to calm down.

Take Me or Leave Me, from RENT: We’re gonna split this up among couples in classic Riverdale fashion. Timeskip, our Maureens are Kevin and Veronica, and our Joannes are Fangs and Archie. The Joannes don’t really work so maybe we’ll pull another classic Riverdale and cut their verses. Unfortunately the best line of the song (“Women, what is it about them? Can’t live with them or without them!”) has to be cut. I wish Choni could also sing this but alas it can’t work in this. Mostly this is an excuse to give Casey Cott more stuff to sing and I think it would be hilarious if he sung this.

Tango: Maureen, from RENT: Honestly, Riverdale both could and would do a really messy RENT episode. I should ruminate further on that. Anyway. I don’t actually know where or how this could work but I want it to be a weirdly sexually charged Vughead duet. But that makes Betty or Archie Maureen, and they are not Maureen… I don’t know. This one’s just in here because I like imagining Cole Sprouse dancing, and because I think Jughead is Jewish and it would be really funny to hear him say “Riverdale Jewish Community Center”. Let’s go with timeskip. She cheated! She cheated! Betty cheated! Fucking cheated! Oh, shit, could this be a Jarchie song in timeskip when Betty and Archie are hooking up? I think it could! Wow. Good work gang.

Razzle Dazzle, from Chicago: I’m also creating a beautiful Chicago musical episode that I don’t have time to detail right now but trust me it’s awesome. It’s in season four, Hermosa is relevant to it. Anyway this is another Kevin-centric group number where everyone is lying to different people about different things. Crucially, Cole Sprouse says the line “they’ll never know you’re just a bagel”.

I Can’t Do It Alone, from Chicago: Veronica’s asking someone to help her scheme!

Mister Cellophane, from Chicago: GAY KEVIN. NEED I SAY MORE.

My Own Best Friend, from Chicago: Beronica duet. Lives would be changed. They’re sort of fighting at this point in the episode so there would be an underlying current of potential hatefucking. But that’s sort of always the case with this song tbh. Also this isn’t on this playlist but imagine Reggie singing "Roxie". So bad. So good.

American Idiot, by Green Day/from American Idiot: Songs from jukebox musicals count too, right? Archie-led group number obviously. Let’s go with season six, but it could be season one or five, too. Maybe he is the faggot America. Jughead says the line “now everybody do the propaganda”. There’s a coordinated dance thing a la "Random Number Generation".

A Cockeyed Optimist, from South Pacific: Archie, duh. Season one, six, or seven. Probably sung directly to a Lodge.

Watch What Happens, from Newsies: Betty, season four. She's doing a piece on the community center that Archie and Mad Dog co-run. I think Lili would slay this honestly. I debated adding the reprise largely so that I could have Cole sing the snake line and to have an iconic "the poor guy's head is spinning" thing side note how can I make Davey and Jack about Jughead and Archie someone needs to shoot me. Anyway we'd cut the stuff about Katherine being into Jack in this song obviously because Betty is unhappily hetero with Jughead. Hashtag women in journalism.

Matchmaker, from Fiddler on the Roof: 50sdale girls. Really strong fun gay visuals exist in my brain for this one.

Anything You Can Do, from Annie Get Your Gun: Vughead. Neither can I!

Let Me Entertain You, from Gypsy: Ronnie duh. Season three-ish La Bonne Nuit Era. Or Polly Amorous.

I Cain't Say No, from Oklahoma!: 50sdale Betty sexual awakening era. I can SEE a beautiful beautiful dream sequence vision where she dances around flirting with Archie and Jughead and Reggie and Veronica can't you.

Tribulation, from Schmigadoon!: Yes this is a TV show not a staged live musical who cares. I don't like Music Man I'm not putting "Ya Got Trouble" on here. Alice gets a patter I don't think Mädchen would be particularly good at it but it would be extremely fun. Season seven most likely, but let's be real it could come at any point in the show.

Naughty Baby, from Crazy for You: You think I'm about to say Veronica or perhaps Cheryl don't you. WRONG Dark Betty. Oh it would be so cringe so painful so bad so terrible. It must happen. I don't know when in the show it happens it could literally be any time in s1-6.

With One Look, from Sunset Boulevard: Ronnie... I'm thinking s5 Riverbucks era.

that's all i have for now but there's more to come :]

#riverdale #kickedshins originals

[colorisbyshe]

One other thing about the “why are the curtains blue/how can the curtains being blue matter” topic that I don’t think a lot of the complainers get is that... while, yes, EVERYTHING in a piece of media CAN have intentional and unintentional meaning

That’s not why their English teachers made them write essays on like why is the curtain blue or whatever. Like, the English teachers aren’t going over this in class to insist there’s a definitive answer.

The point is just... to get people to think more critically about the text in general. To be aware that there’s always a chance for intentional secret meanings or accidental perspectives/messaging being thrown in. It’s literally just a lesson in critical thinking and is meant to help people spot things like propaganda and biases and double meanings.

Most scholarly work analyzing texts doesn’t focus on the minutiae of set design (though some certainly can and does) but... it is based on the mindset of realizing even small details can have great value.

This closer reading is meant to help people read and interpret the news, to understand why you can’t skim scientific texts because missing even one detail or implication can mean misunderstanding the entire thing, and can also be applied to legal documents, business contracts, and written government policy.

I feel a lot of the defenses of English class “overanalysis” is about how these lessons are taught to make people better understand books and mAYBE authors and thinks like unintentional bias, coding, etc but like... I really hope y’all know the main reason English class exists like that is for like... a million OTHER reasons as well.

And that’s the reason why you could get an A on an essay that you “bullshit,” your way through. There is no definitive answer for most English essay questions but if you provide sound logic, attention to small details, and the abilit to contextualize and REcontextualize information, you have proven you’ve gained something from the class.

And I think the reason why some of y’all don’t understand that is because... you didn’t do well in English. Your critical thinking and critical reading skills stalled out long ago

#English classes are also meant to teach you to empathize with perspectives outside of your own #and hcallenge biases #i dont some of yall had bad teachers #even many bad teachres #but at some point your failure to grasp this is just on you

[twistedminutia]

Ho boi, if Gray ever got into a situation where they are nervous especially if it's specifically building safety. Like, I want Gray to look at the architecture, and subconsciously this ain't OSHA safe. Especially, the wonkiness of Hearstabyul stairs.

Or being wary of glowing rocks, or mysterious white powder that comes out in old, decripit building cuz they think that it might be Asbestos. Like, even if they are in Twst, there is a subconscious aversion.

Oh yeah, that's a really good idea! A lot of those buildings are definitely using magic to be at all architecturally possible. Heartslabyul dorm for certain, but probably the main NRC building as well- it doesn't look like it's very well structurally supported, and the cliff it's located on doesn't look super safe either. I'd imagine most of the students are used to at least some magic-enchanced buildings, so they'd see no problem with it, while Gray's just like 'uh, is no one else concerned? Seriously?'

I mean, I think even mages would be concerned about glowing rocks or mysterious powder, because those things could be magic and still be dangerous. But it would be funny if they're concerned about it for completely different reasons!

Riddle: Oh, a glowing magestone. We'll need to reduce its charge of magic safely, so we don't risk setting off any kind of trap or magic energy discharge-

Gray: That's uranium and we're all going to fucking die.

#twst #twisted wonderland #a million and one minutia #twst fanfic #twst fandom

[incorrect-jojolands-quotes]

here's a little jojolands conspiracy

Jodio's father being forced to leave Hawaii is more intwined with Usagi but not in the way that you think. (I know I made a theory about Usagi being the owner of the parrot on the bus but this is something entirely different).

tl;dr: Usagi and Jodio's fathers were best buds. Jodio's father trying to help his friend led to the mess we know now.

Basically, Usagi and Jodio's fathers were childhood best friends. They were both raised in Hawaii with similar circumstances and had their own rag-tag group of friends; it was those two that were the closest however. After high school, both fathers had different ambitions: Usagi's father went into construction on O'ahu while Jodio's father moved to the mainland go to college. They kept letters, went on occasional trips together, and briefly lost contact before reconnecting just when Jodio's father decided to move the family back to O'ahu. There, he reconnected with Usagi's father and learns that both were hired by Howler for outsource construction and insurance administration respectively.

Howler tends to outsource a lot of their stuff as an infrastructure company, so Usagi and Jodio's fathers began working for them via their own companies. Both the construction and insurance companies want to have the best relationship with Howler as possible, and Jodio's father particularly was in charge of overseeing the insurance stuff for Howler and a couple of their partnerships (i.e. the bus company); that's how high up he was.

Like many infrastructure companies and businesses that require physically demanding work, Howler is no stranger to workplace injuries and the legal aspects of it. So, having to deal with OSHA violations, accidents, and potential deaths is often dealt with as quickly and cost-effectively as possible. Part of why they outsource their construction work is to minimize their involvement in accidents that may occur and have the minutia of payouts and blame lie on the companies they hired instead. This is where Usagi's father's death comes in.

Usagi's father died tragically from being hit by a bus that coincidentally belonged to one of Howler's partnerships in the process of being merged into the corporation: a local Oahu bus company that coincidentally belongs to the bully that later attacks Dragona. Because this bus was also under Howler, they couldn't just have the contracted company deal with the mess and therefore used Jodio's father's insurance company to see how much they can get away with not paying out the Alohaoes. In other words, Howler wants to pay the minimum amount and possibly screw over the Aloahoes knowing they don't have the resources or emotional energy to fight over getting a low payout.

However, Jodio's father knew what they were planning to do to the Aloahoes and couldn't stand being complicit in screwing his late best friend's family. So, used his power to make sure the Alohaoes were paid every cent they deserved and basically "screwed" Howler with the insurance pay. (By screwed, they lost a few million and it took a bit of work from PR to have people forget it happened). This strained the relationship between his insurance company and Howler to the point where the latter threatened to break their contract with the former. Neither could do anything towards Jodio's father legally, who tried his best to "lie" about how he wasn't able to give them the lowball offer they wanted to give and he could use this as a blip in his near-perfect track record. To prevent the Alohaoes from being further involved, he cut contact with the family and made it so it was a random insurance agent that handled their payout. The plan to introduce his kids to Usagi as friends was also abandoned.

While this helped the Alohaoes greatly and he still oversaw Howler's insurance stuff, he starts being treated badly at work. The higher executives pressured his co-workers and team to give him the cold shoulder under false rumors that he was not the great employee or team-player he gives off. Jodio's father began missing out on promotions/raises, getting iced out from work activities, and he's sometimes forced to take on other workloads. This puts a further strain on his marriage, as Barbara Ann mentioned, but he refuses to tell her what had been going on; it was his thing to ensure his family from the cruelties of the world, which is sometimes interpreted as him being aloof and not as involved as a parent, and he was a workaholic to begin with due to ensuring his children get the best education they can.

When the bus experienced the arson attack, media and police claim the culprit is unknown. However, Dragona's bully wanted a final jab and, while hospitalized, claimed Dragona was the arsonist. There was clearly no evidence besides Dragona being coincidentally not there that day in school, and the police weren't inclined to take a bribe at the time, but Howler and the insurance company catches wind of this. Still bitter about what Jodio's father did, they worked with the bully's parents to come up with fabricated yet convincing evidence against his child. They threaten him to take the blame and pay 10x the claim (since it was a little more than the money he had Howler pay to the Alohaoes) or they would give the fake evidence to the police and have Dragona arrested. The insurance company, seeing that their top employee was in controversy and not wanting their business to lose more profit because of it, also forced him to resign.

Jodio's father knew his child would never do such a thing and that the evidence was all fake, but he accepted the resignation and the debt for Dragona's sake. Part of why he's not able to take the kids and Barbara Ann was them still holding onto that fake evidence and claiming they can always send it into the police if he fails to finish his payments or tries anything to take his children with him; in other words, the Joestars are almost like hostages in Hawaii. He also didn't want Dragona to feel guilty or that they were at fault for the mess.

So, that explains what Barbara Ann meant when she tried to explain to her children why their father had to leave yet the circumstances were absurd.

Two things to add:

What if the bus death was planned and Usagi and Jodio's fathers were punished for investigating the lava rock?

Does Usagi know about this? Will he ever know?

Anyways, what do y'all think?

#the jojolands #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba part 9 #jojo part 9 #jojolands #jjba jojolands #jojo theories #jojolands theories #jojo headcanons #jojolands headcanons #jodio joestar #dragona joestar #barbara ann joestar #kinda like how the moms were close in jojolion now the dads were close #i'm just imagining they had the idea that their friends would become close #particularly they wanted dragona and usagi to be close due to their age #it's unknown how much they've told their families about each other #jodio's father is rather tight lipped #but i like to think usagi's father talked a lot about jodio's father but never mentioned the name #especially since the joestars are now going by their mother's name instead of their fathers #random fandub mention: i managed to get a VA for Jodio's father and he's irl dad of Jodio's VA

[tenshinokorin]

Okay so here's the thing I woke up wtfing about today.

What the hell is everyone smoking on Planet Gunsmoke. 

No, seriously. Look, I grew up in rural Kentucky in the '80s. Half of my relatives were tobacco farmers, and even the ones that weren't usually had a hand in helping with it. And without getting into the minutiae of just how much fuss and bother that fukken crop needs, I tell you, there is nowhere on that barren rock that could grow enough quantities of tobacco for just one Nicholas D. Wolfwood's smoking habit, much less everyone else's. 

That shit needs warm BUT NOT TOO WARM but then sun NOT TOO MUCH SUN and rain NOT TOO MUCH RAIN and that's not even counting how you've got to set it and top it and dock it and fondle it and tell it it is pretty and hang it up on a fall Thursday in when the moon is in the eighth house of Aquarius and leave it until a talking fox comes to your door and tells you your clock is ten minutes late etc etc. Then you can take it out of your barn and drive it a hundred and fifty miles to sell it for a pittance to a cigarette company, who will laugh all the way to the bank about how they ruined the hemp industry in KY and forced farmers to give it up in exchange for a toxic plant that absolutely sucks the life out of whatever dirt it is put into. 

(I may be a little loose on the specifics, but you get the gist.) 

So I have come up with two theories. 

One, there is some kind of tough native plant on Gunsmoke/Nomans that serves as a decent smoke. It is probably something that dries naturally, but has enough of a tar to make a good burn, and provides a similar effect as nicotine. (They might all be smoking spliffs, as well, because we know that cannabis can be grown in someone's basement.) It might even be that there is juuuuust enough tobacco produced so that it gets mixed in with the native plant. It is possible to produce tobacco in arid regions, it just requires a lot of resources and it's not a food crop, which I think would take priority. Based on how much 'real' tobacco is in your cigarette, I imagine the price of your smoke goes up accordingly. If you smoke full baccy cigs, it's probably like drinking imported spring water exclusively. This might be why Wolfwood is constantly broke. 

My other theory is that, as we know, smoking is terrible for you and generally kills you sooner or later, which leads me to the conclusion that Millions Knives is behind the entire tobacco industry on Gunsmoke, and he gets a hell of a chuckle out of the notion that he's making humans pay--in a slow horrible way--for their abuse of a plant. 

The upshot of this is, of course, that it doesn't matter to Wolfwood. His healing chemicals basically regenerate his entire lung tissue every time he uses one, so he will absolutely never get one of the umpteen horrible ways that tobacco use can kill you! He'll live forever! I mean. Unless something else happens, right?  

Ahahahaha okay goodnight everybody I need a smoke. 

#this is not a scholarly work please don't @ me #just in case the line about the fox didn't make that obvious I am joking #except for smoking it is fukken terrible #I'm still gonna do it sometimes but yeah #trigun #cw smoking #nicholas d wolfwood #also this is primarily a trimax/98 question as tristamp is its own thing #If the only thing ppl come away with from this is that the tobacco industry is horrible to farmers that's the most important bit

[madamlaydebug]

India's caste system assigns individuals a certain hierarchical status according to Hindu beliefs. Traditionally, there are four principal castes (divided into many sub-categories) and one category of people who fall outside the caste system—the Dalits. As members of the lowest rank of Indian society, Dalits face discrimination at almost every level: from access to education and medical facilities to restrictions on where they can live and what jobs they can have. The discrimination against the Dalits is especially significant because of the number of people affected; there are approximately 167 million Dalits in India, constituting over 16 percent of the total population.

Within the Dalit community, there are many divisions into sub-castes. Dalits are divided into leather workers, street sweepers, cobblers, agricultural workers, and manual "scavengers". The latter group, considered the lowest of the low and officially estimated at one million, traditionally are responsible for digging village graves, disposing of dead animals, and cleaning human excreta. Approximately three-quarters of the Dalit workforce are in the agricultural sector of the economy. A majority of the country’s forty million people who are bonded laborers are Dalits. These jobs rarely provide enough income for Dalits to feed their families or to send their children to school. As a result, many Dalits are impoverished, uneducated, and illiterate.

Dalits have been oppressed, culturally subjugated, and politically marginalized. The principals of untouchability and “purity and pollution” dictate what Dalits are and are not allowed to do; where they are and are not allowed to live, go, or sit; who they can and cannot give water to, eat with, or marry; extending into the minutia of all aspects of daily life.

Moreover, discrimination for Dalits does not end if they convert from Hinduism to another religion. In India, Islam, Sikhism, and Christianity (among other religions) maintain some form of caste despite the fact that this contradicts their religious precepts. As a result, dominant castes maintain leadership positions while Dalit members of these religions are often marginalized and flagrantly discriminated against. For example, Dalit Christains are provided seperate burial areas from non-Dalit Christains.

The origins of the caste system

The word Dalit—literally translating to “oppressed” or “broken”—is generally used to refer to people who were once known as “untouchables”, those belonging to castes outside the fourfold Hindu Varna system. According to the 2001 census, there are some 167 million Dalits (referred to in the census as “Scheduled Castes”) in India alone, though there are tens of millions in other South Asian countries, as well.

The caste system finds its origin in functional groupings, calledvarnas, which have their origins in the Aryan society of ancient northern India. In their creation myth, four varnas are said to have emanated from the Primeval Being. The Creator’s mouth became the Brahman priests, his two arms formed the Rajanya warriors and kings, his two thighs formed the Vaishya landowners and merchants, and from his feet were born the Shudra artisans and servants. Later, there developed a so-called “fifth” varna: the Untouchables.

This caste system became fixed and hereditary with the emergence of Hinduism and its beliefs of pollution and rebirth. The Laws of Manu (Manusmitri), which date roughly to the 3rd century A.D.—and parts of which form the Sanskrit syllabus of graduation studies in Gujarat even today—preach the sanctity of the varnas and uphold the principles of gradation and rank. They refer to the impurity and servility of the outcastes, while affirming the dominance and total impunity of Brahmins. Those from the “lowest” castes are told that their place in the caste hierarchy is due to their sins in a past life. Vivid punishments of torture and death are assigned for crimes such as gaining literacy or insulting a member of a dominant caste. Among the writings of Hindu religious texts, the Manusmitriis undoubtedly the most authoritative one, legitimizing social exclusion and introducing absolute inequality as the guiding principle of social relations.

Forced exclusion and constant oppression

Today, Dalits make up 16.2% of the total Indian population, but their control over resources of the country is marginal—less than 5%. Close to half of the Dalit population lives under the Poverty Line, and even more (62%) are illiterate. Among the Dalits, most of those engaged in agricultural work are landless or nearly landless agricultural laborers. The average household income for Dalits was of Rs. 17,465 in 1998, just 68% of the national average. Less than 10% of Dalit households can afford safe drinking water, electricity and toilets, which is indicative of their deplorable social condition. Moreover, Dalits are daily victims of the worst crimes and atrocities, far outnumbering other sections of society in that respect as well. The vast majority of these crimes remain unreported due to omnipresent fear, and those that are reported are often ignored by police or end up languishing in the backlogged court system. Between 1992 and 2000, a total of 334,459 cases were registered nation wide with the police as cognisable crimes against SCs.

More than 60 years after gaining Independence, India is still very much afflicted by the cancer of the caste system. Dalits remain the most vulnerable, marginalized and brutalised community in the country.

Dalits in Gujarat

If compared to states like Punjab, Himachal Pradesh or West Bengal where Dalits constitute more than 20 per cent of the population, Gujarat counts a fairly low proportion of Dalits.According to the 2001 Census, there are approximately 3.6 million members of Scheduled Castes in Gujarat, which represents 7.1% of the state’s total population. This relatively low figure is, however, inversely indicative of their miserable condition. More than 80 per cent of the Dalits in Gujarat are daily labourers, the majority of which are in the agricultural sector. Half of the SC population is landless or owns less than one acre of land, which forces them to work on dominant castes’ land in order to survive.

Because of this dependence and the quasi-inexistence of labour welfare in Gujarat, Dalits are subject to immense pressure and utter discrimination. Atrocities committed against them are a daily reality, with more than 4,000 cases reported in the span of 3 years in just 14 districts. Manual scavenging is still very much prevalent also, the State’s institutions in Gujarat themselves employing Dalits to clean dry latrines. For a State that likes to depict itself as a modern and thriving region in India, Gujarat is still a far cry away from ensuring social justice to all of its citizens. In reality, Gujarat has a poor human rights record and must extend and focus its attention to its minorities if it is to be worthy of the kind of image it likes to give itself.

The government of Gujarat has implemented certain policies designed to uplift those belonging to the Scheduled Castes into higher positions. The most prominent is the reservation system, where certain seats in the government are set aside only for Dalits. In Gujarat, 7% of seats in the government and education sectors are reserved for Dalits (as opposed to 14% set aside on the national level). This amounts to 2 of the 26 Members of Parliament (MP) and 13 of the 182 Members of Legislative Assemblies (MLA) currently held by members of the SC. There are also established reservation systems in place at the district, block, and village levels throughout the state.

Even with this promise of upliftment through reservation, Dalits continue to be discriminated against throughout Gujarat. The number of atrocity cases against Dalits and the practice of untouchability continue to occur at alarming rates throughout the state, especially when compared to other Indian states.

Dalits in other South Asian Countries

India’s caste system finds corollaries in other parts of the sub-continent, including Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh. Indeed, as Hinduism spread from northern India to the southern part of the peninsula establishing itself as the dominant religion by the pre-Christian era, so spread the caste system and its ideology justifying the superior standing of the system’s aristocracy. Caste even migrated with the South Asian diaspora to firmly take root in East and South Africa, Mauritius, Fiji, Suriname, the Middle East, Malaysia, the Caribbean, the United Kingdom, and North America. Nevertheless, Asia remains the continent with the largest share of Dalits. There are today in Asia well over 200 million men, women and children enduring near complete social ostracism on the grounds of their descent.

In both Bangladesh and Nepal, the types of discrimination faced by Dalits are very similar to those existing in India. Notions of purity and pollution are prevalent within society, social restrictions, and discrimination in access to public places or jobs are therefore commonplace. Nepal’s situation is noteworthy as not even a fringe of the 4.5 million Dalits (over 20% of the Nepalese population) has been able to significantly emancipate itself. With no affirmative action measures, there are practically no Dalits in Nepal’s legislative assemblies. The literacy rate of Nepalese Dalits is only around 10%, while that of Nepalese Dalit women is even lower. Over 80% of Nepal’s Dalits find themselves below the official poverty line; their life expectancy is not higher than 50 years.

In Pakistan, as well as in Sri Lanka (except Tamil regions), the caste system is somewhat less rigid in the sense that it does not hold any ritual pollution concepts. However, features such as social distance and restricted access to land are still very much a reality. Moreover, the Swat region in northern Pakistan also practices extreme forms of humiliation against Dalits, and especially Dalit women.

[obsoleteozymandias]

romantic relationship hc of harry and kim with gn reader (i dont mind whether seperate or poly!!) thankies :D <3

You’re welcomesies 

Headcanons: Disco Elysium 

Harry du Bois (Individual): 

Any partner Harry has must be a force of nature. He needs someone who’ll chase the storms he makes, and let them envelop them. 

That isn’t to say he wants you to excuse his bad habits: any partner would be a key part of his recovery. 

Harry’s a very physical person. He gesticulates as much as he taps and touches you to get your attention or make a point. Hugs and kisses mean a million different things just depending on how they’re done. You’re gonna need a Harry encyclopedia for every little minutiae of this man. 

He isn’t afraid of public affection, though he’s always been attracted to a sense of secrecy with his partner - he likes seeing the side of someone only he knows. 

He‘ll wake you up on any given day with a new thought experiment or hypothetical, some of which are completely hilarious, others which shake you to your core. He’s never been a person to hold back with his thoughts. 

He’s a considerate lover to a fault: he’ll overthink every decision he makes until it’s too late to be made anymore. Then, he’ll spend the next few weeks regretting his overthinking; overthinking that, too, in the process. So he’ll need someone to step in and course-correct him. One kiss, one hug, one gentle hand on his shoulder, and reassurance. He’ll be right as rain (or as right as he can get) in no time. 

Kim Kitsuragi (Individual): 

Kim’s never been big on relationships, but when he’s in one, you’ll find very little difference from his normal behaviors. 

Aside from more physical touch and affection, some more open facial expressions, and less of a reservation about voicing his feelings, Kim is still a straight-laced cop with a pinch of obscure humor. 

His love language is acts of service. He doesn’t need a gift or affirmations, he needs someone to stand by his side and weather the storm with him. He loves having someone to come home to, someone who’ll listen to him talk about his day and help him de-stress. 

If you can’t help him with work, he always appreciates some good food and a hand with the chores around the house. 

Kim isn’t necessarily reserved with physical affection, but he, much like Harry, will often overthink it, to the point that he forgets what he was supposed to be doing, and gives up thinking about it at all. 

That said, the more a partner gives him, the more he gives back. If you make a habit of giving him a smooch or hug or just an arm around the shoulder, he’ll loosen up and return the favor. 

Kim and Harry (Poly):

Kim and Harry are a whirlwind together - they bring out the best in each other, and that sometimes means a complete swap in who is the most childish in the relationship. Any partner that works with the two of them would either be a similarly chaotic and free person, or an equalizer, who is almost always the voice of reason.

Sharing a bed is the biggest issue in this relationship: Harry sleeps spread out like a starfish, Kim hogs the blankets, and their partner is left to wonder why they make the decisions that they do. 

Despite that, every morning you all wake up entangled in one another is a small blessing. 

Although time is spent between just two of you, most often the three of you will be operating as a team. Harry cooks, Kim cleans, etc.

Being the only non-cop among the two would be a slight stressor, as they convene over work and their partner is left out of the loop. But they almost always make sure to find a way to include their third, whether it’s asking for an opinion or regaling them with stories of their days. 

If their partner is a cop, then oh lord the three are a crime-stopping machine that don’t stop, can’t stop, won’t stop. 

Affection runs freely between all of you. Harry smothers his partners with kisses, Kim is generous with touches to the back or arm, and no one goes a day without several hugs.

#oz’s requests #disco elysium headcanons #disco elysium #disco elysium x reader #disco elysium kim #disco elysium harry #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #headcanons