#brown people should be allowed to be evil

[miniwheat77]

American Honey. Pt. 2 (Alejandro x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, reader nearly gets injured, pregnancy, poorly translated Spanish, (sorry if I missed any.)

*not edited*

The difference everything had made for you, was astounding. Everyone was nice to you. They included you, showed you respect you’d never been shown ever before on this base.

You had to give it to them, they were loyal to their Colonel.

There were still a few of them that were skeptical after everything, and very few people knew of what had actually happened during the time you and Alejandro spent out there.

Rudy was one of them.

Alejandro was making you get check ups to make sure you were okay, he was getting them too but there was a risk for pregnancy. That’s what he worried about.

It had been a couple months since everything had happened and you avoided Alejandro like it was the plague. Any glance he sent you had your skin crawling. The evil bug in your brain convinces you that there’s nothing else to discuss between the two of you. He doesn’t like you, he tolerates you. He didn’t actually want you. How could he? So. When you held that paperwork in your hands, bloodwork from your latest exam. Your heart fell apart right in your chest. “I’m so sorry Y/N.” The medic sighs. Resting her hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s fine. Just..” you sigh. “If Alejandro asks. About anything. This is between you and me. As far as he will know everything came back fine, and the test was negative.” You look at her, holding her close to look you in the eyes. She sighs. “But Y/N.. I can’t lie to h-“

“Please.” Your voice is unsteady. “I will tell him when I’m ready. Just.. please. Keep this between us.” You hold onto her hand. She sighs. “Okay. But you better tell him Y/N.” She sits down on the small cot with you. “What are you going to do?”

You look down. “I don’t know.”

After gathering your thoughts, you stand up. Making your way out of the infirmary and into the hallway. It’s cold, the lights are flickering from the storm outside. This was going to be a long night.

—

A knock at your door has you standing up quickly. Opening the door and allowing him inside. His jacket was damp, but he gave you a small amount of comfort. Passing you a brown paper grocery bag.

“What.. what do you need this for exactly?” He asks.

You sigh. “I just.. need to know for sure.” He sighs. “Y/N. They took your blood, that can’t be wrong. You’re pre-“ you raise your hand to stop him. “Rudy please.” Your voice is shaky. “Okay.. okay. I’ll wait here.” He sighs, sitting down on your bed. You disappear into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, you’re coming back out. Tears gathering in your eyes. He sees you falling apart and sighs. “Come here, Querida.” He sighs, waving you over to him. You sit down next to him on the bed, and he pulls you into a hug. “It’s going to be okay. You’re always welcome in our home, and my mother in law and wife know absolutely everything there is to know about children and all of this. They will help you through this, I promise. And.. Alejandro will take care of you.” Those words split a hole right through your heart, burning pain from holding in a sob branches out of your chest and finally escapes your lips, leaving Rudy sighing and pulling you into him tighter. “He can’t know, Rudy.” You look up at him. “What?”

“He didn’t want this, I don’t want this. He doesn’t even like me, he called me Gringa up until everything happened. He treated me like a prisoner Rudy. He can’t find out. Not until I want him to.” You suck in a hiccuped breath. Hearing Rudy sigh. “Listen to me. It’s going to be okay. No matter what. But as long as this baby has you, it will always know love. And I know for a fact that Alejandro has always wanted to be a dad. He doesn’t deserve to be cheated out of this, I know he’s been cruel. But he’s.. he’s just difficult.” Rudy sighs.

He hates going behind Alejandro’s back, discussing this with you when it should be him instead. “You will be okay. I promise. How about you come over for dinner on Saturday. You can talk about it with Maria, I’m sure the kids would love to see you.” He sighs. You nod your head, smiling. If there’s one thing you know about Rudy, is he loves his family. “Okay Rudy.” You nod. “I promise, it will be okay.” He grasps your hand in his.

Rudy doesn’t know what it is about you. Maybe it’s the deer in headlights look you always had when you got onto the base that had him falling in love with you, in a platonic way of course. You were just like his little sister, you always teased each other, and he was the only person on base that had any respect for you. Him and his wife took you in like they were a family you had missed out on. Once you had calmed down enough, Rudy left to let you sleep.

He closes your door quietly, turning to head back to his own room when Alejandro staring back at him has him jumping out of his skin. “Jesus Christ!” He breathes. Alejandro laughs, arms crossed. “Little odd to be leaving her room so late, hermano.” Alejandro raises an eyebrow. Rudy looks at him in confusion before what he’s implying has his eyes widening. “Woah- no. No no. I was just.. my family misses having her around so I invited her over to our house this weekend for dinner. I had to do it before I forgot.” Rudy says nervously. Alejandro nods. “For an hour?” He laughs. “¿Qué pasa con la presión, hermano? ¿Crees que soy una especie de jugador?” Rudy crosses his arms. “No, just hope you’re not risking your marriage.” Rudy shakes his head. “There’s not one woman on the planet that would make me risk Maria.” Rudy shakes his head. “Y/N is like a little sister to me.” He shakes his head. Alejandro nods. “Solo estoy jalando tu pierna. ¿Se encuentra ella bien?” Rudy nods. “Still stressed but she’ll be fine.” He nods.

Alejandro questions him more but like he said he would, Rudy says nothing.

Rudy hates keeping stuff from Alejandro. You needed to tell him. Soon.

After a big fight between you and Rudy, you knew it was over.

“You can’t go. You have to tell him now.” Rudy growls. “No. I can’t. Not yet.” Rudy sighs. “You’re risking your baby Y/N. You cannot go.” He groans. “I have no choice Rudy.” You growl. You try to shove passed him but he stops you. “Please. If you go, you tell him when it’s over. Or I will.” He swallows hard. You tug your hand away from him. You send him a glare, leaving the room. Walking away in a hurry. “Uh.. girl trouble?” Alejandro asks. Seeing Rudy slicking his hair back in frustration. “She’s just.. being a woman. You get it.”

Rudy was watching you like a hawk for the entire mission. He helped you up and down any steps or ramps, he was always at your side, and Alejandro was getting suspicious. Very suspicious. He helped you onto the helicopter and down. As you cleared out the base, he was watching your every move. When everything was clear, he was ushering you back to the helicopter. “Rudy. Quit it.” You mutter. “No. I need you out of here safe so that he doesn’t fucking kill me.” The both of you are alone inside of a building.

A gunshot sounding off, followed by a bullet flying passed your head is his final straw. You fall back onto the ground, eyes wide. “No!” Rudy yells. Opening fire on the assailant. Alejandro hears everything, rushing in quickly. Rudy is seething as he looks at you, crouched down to make sure you’re okay. “No more, no more of this. Es hora de decírselo. Si no lo haces, lo haré yo.” Rudy sighs. “No!” You stand up. “Goddamnit Y/N. Tell him now!” Rudy raises his voice. Alejandro looks between the both of you, worried. ��What the hell is going on?” You look at Rudy. Eyes begging him to keep his mouth shut. But it’s too late. “She’s pregnant.” Alejandro’s mouth goes dry. Eyes going wide. “What?” He asks. His voice is quiet. “She’s been keeping it a secret for a couple months now. I’m sorry.” Rudy sighs.

“It’s.. it’s alright. Rudy. Thank you.” Alejandro nods. Rudy nods. Moving passed Alejandro to give the both of you space. Alejandro makes his way over to you, reaching a hand out for you to take. You look up at him. Taking his hand skeptically. He helps you back up to your feet, making sure you’re okay. “Y/N..” he sighs. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. “Because. It’s not your responsibility.” You breathe. “It’s both of ours, how could you keep that from me?” He asks. “I was going to tell you Alejandro I just..” your voice is getting uneven. “You don’t like me, why on earth would you want this?” He breathes. “That doesn’t mean anything. That doesn’t mean that I won’t take care of you. Merezco saberlo.” He sighs. “And.. this mission. You being out here. It’s a huge risk. I can’t believe you would endanger yourself like this. We need to go.” He shakes his head. “We’ll talk more later.” He sighs. He’s still holding onto his rifle tightly, shaking his head as he walks away.

—

You’re standing in your mirror, putting your hair up. It was still damp since you had just showered. Your shirt is getting too tight on you, you hate it.

A knock at your door has you sighing, you expect it to be Rudy. But you’re surprised when it’s Alejandro coming in. He takes in a deep breath when he sees you. Your bump is already forming and Alejandro can feel the ache in his chest. “I uh.. I brought you this.” He reaches his hand out. It’s a bag of cookies. “Maria said you liked them.” He smiles. You smile, taking them from him. “You talked to Rudy..” you mumble. “Sí, amor.” He sighs. “I.. I was mad. So angry at you.” He sighs. “But I talked to him and he made me realize. That.. you think I don’t like you, that I don’t want this.” You look down, avoiding his gaze.

“We started off wrong, and I want to make it up to you, Y/N.” He sighs. “I was an asshole, I know that. Por favor, perdóname.” He breathes. “Alejandro.. I don’t expect you to-“ he knows it’s against his better judgement to do it, but he cups your cheeks. Kissing you hard. You melt right into him, kissing him right back.

When he pulls away, you’re breathing hard. “Alejandro, I don’t know ab-“ he removes the hairbrush you’ve got in your hands, pushing you back into your bed. He kisses you again, lips sloppily moving with yours as he moves himself on top of you, avoiding resting any of his weight on you. “I’ll show you. You can be mine, American Honey.” He breathes. You smile up at him, cheeks burning red. He kisses down your neck, and you can’t help but pant as he touches you. The feelings he’s making you feel are intense, and you’re drawn to him more than you ever have before.

“I know you feel it too.” He breathes. Chewing nervously at his lip. “Lasting effects of everything maybe. Or maybe.. there’s still some of that drug left over.” He breathes. His fingers gliding over your bare skin has you gasping out. He leans down again, attacking your neck once more. Kissing down your chest. He squeezes your breasts through your shirt and you whine. Lifting your hips up into him. His mind is fuzzy, clouded with lust, or maybe this is what love feels like. He’s pushing your shirt up over your chest, kissing down your chest. Taking his time, running his tongue over your nipples. You’re a mess, whining out his name. “Ah- Alejandro.” You pant. He’s kissing down your body, stopping to press a gentle kiss to your stomach. He moves lower, helping you remove your shorts. He looks up at you once more, before swiping his tongue over your clit. You tense up, a gasp leaving your lips. He moves you closer to him. Tugging you down the bed with your thighs. “So sweet. Such a sweet fucking pussy.” He gasps. The sounds he makes as he devours you are lewd, filthy. The only thing you can hear throughout the room aside from your cries that have to be quiet.

He reaches up to cup your breasts with his hands, rolling your nipples between his fingers. He moans into you, the vibrations sending chills up your spine. You raise your hips into him, telling him you want more. He holds you still, taking his time pleasuring you.

He pulls away, seeing your blushing clit. Swollen and abused just like he wanted it. He removes all of his clothes quickly. Moving himself over you. He kisses you again, feeling you relax into him. He looks between the both of you, biting his lip and looking at you for permission. You nod your head. He kisses you again, brushing your hair out of your face as he lines himself with your entrance. The feeling of him sinking into you is too much. Sparks shooting through you. Maybe there was some of that drug somewhere inside of you. You moan out, but he quickly covers your mouth with his hand. “Shh.. try to stay quiet for me darling.” He breathes. Another gasp leaves your lips when he slides in completely. The way that he stretches you out, fills you completely full, not an inch of you that he hasn’t touched.

You tilt your head back, moaning out quietly. As he starts rocking his hips into you, you’re falling apart. Tears filling your eyes before looking at your tear ducts and running down your cheeks. He presses his forehead to yours, forcing you to look at him. “I will take care of you. You’re mine, my honey. I have you now. Se siente tan bien.” He grits his teeth, his lower stomach is already tight. The way you feel wrapped so tight around him is too much. He pushes your thigh up, raising your legs to hold onto you, kissing your calf as he thrusts into you. His touches are soothing, doing the opposite of what his cock is doing to you, working you up. Orgasm building up inside of your core. You’re ready to beg for it. You’re biting your lip to stay quiet, admiring the way that his tanned skin looks. His chest is hairy and he has a couple tattoos on his body. He’s toned, lips parted as he pants. He’s feeling good too.

Your thighs shiver, and you look up at him. “Alejandro, M’gonna cum.” You whine. He raises your other leg, holding them together as he props himself up, keeping a steady pace.

“Go on. Muéstrame cómo te corres, niña bonita.” He’s holding eye contact with you as he rocks his hips into yours at a steady pace, working an orgasm out of you. Your chest starts to raise faster and you reach forward to rub gentle circles on your clit. “Yeah.. there you go.” He breathes. “Give yourself to me.” He breathes. You clutch the sheets with your other hand, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through your orgasm, feeling you buck your hips up. Crying out and whining his name. He should cover your mouth, quiet you. But he can’t.

Once he’s worked you through your high, you open your legs, forcing him back away from you. He looks confused. “Lay down.” You nod. “Wait, no. Let me take care of y-“ he gasps lightly as you shove him back, moving on top of him. You sit on top of him, moaning as you slide down onto him. You rest your hands on his chest, whimpering as you rock your hips into him. He’s not going to last long like this.

“Ah- fuck. Se siente tan bien cariño.” He hisses. Holding your hips and guiding you into him. He’s got a look of pain on his face, but it’s the opposite. “Ah- just like that. Just like that, I’m going to- Ugh!” He moans out, eyes shutting tight and he lets his head fall back. You’re rocking your hips into him until he’s gasping, trying to hold you steady. Breathing hard from the way that you’ve just made him feel. He’s panting as he comes down from his high. Sliding to the side so that you’ll lay next to him.

“A new beginning, Cariño. I’ll take care of you. I promise.” He breathes, resting his hand on your stomach.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #alejandro vargas #alejandro cod #alejandro x reader #rudy x reader #rudy cod

[decolonize-the-left]

You are literally going to get people killed by pushing them to vote third party. People voting third party is why Trump won in 2016, which allowed him to stack the Supreme Court with conservative garbage which is going to negatively affect us for DECADES to come (already has, since it led to the repeal of Roe v. Wade which has LITERALLY killed people). I'm baffled, because you've done so much good work on this website (like I still go back and regularly reread your posts on whiteness etc because they're so informative), but advocating for voting third party going into one of the most important elections in recent memory is actively harmful.

Like have you heard of Project 2025? In case you haven't it's literally like a 1000 page manifesto for the Republican party to reshape the federal government to essentially let the President become a dictator. It also expressly mentions plans to roll back rights for women, the LGBT community, and pretty much any other minority you can think of. I know things are bad now - not arguing that at all - but if Republicans win next year, things will get EXPONENTIALLY WORSE.

You can sit there and yell about Democrats being "just as bad" until you're blue in the face, but it's literally not true. The Democratic Party itself is obviously just another problematic institution and there are definitely Dems who showed their entire asses with supporting Israel, but like... Progressive Democrats do exist and while they're obviously not perfect, it's absolutely a step in the right direction. Not to mention Republicans literally need to cheat by gerrymandering and attacking voting rights for minorities in order to even get elected in a lot of places, whereas Democrats tend to win when more people are registered and actually show up to vote. They are not the same, and the harm they do is not the same.

Again, I have a lot of respect for the work you do, especially with your recent posts on the Palestinian genocide. But I vehemently disagree with your stance on voting third party in this upcoming election. Ideally I would love if we could vote third party and actually have multiple options that more accurately represent us as a population, but our current system is a two party one and unfortunately we literally do have to vote for the lesser of two evils, because one option sucks but preserves what little democracy we have (and gives us a chance of making it better) and one will literally bring genocide against trans people. I would personally rather not see that happen.

How can you say this and mention the Palestinian genocide in the same ask.

Democrats are getting people killed. In fact they're committing one of The worst crime against humanity possible and then only thing you're worried about is that things might get worse for gay people if a Republicans wins.

I'm the biggest queer I know. I'm native. I'm brown. I'm almost definitely on a watch list. And listen to me and understand the depth of my words when I say: my people have been oppressed the way Project2025 outlines.

And maybe you personally cared or helped us protest that. But most people didn't. In fact I can't remember the last time the US supported native rights at all.

But now that YOURE under threat I'm supposed to risk my life because the queer community can't be bothered to stop discoursing about neopronouns long enough to actual give an shit about saving the community?

Y'all got a lot of damn nerve, let me tell you.

Go bark up some other tree cuz this is not the one.

Also I'm not pushing anyone to vote 3rd party. I'm laying out facts. Facts are a Gallup poll says 63% of people would vote 3rd party. Facts are my Tumblr poll says that number is STILL at least 45% on the hellsite.

And since people are interested in voting 3rd party they should know their options. The people who say "I would vote 3rd party but they don't have support" also deserve to see the articles that said 63% of people would join them.

They deserve to know that 3rd parties currently hold a not insignificant amount percentage of support from the two main parties. 20% of votes. When 33% is an even split are good odds. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sorry, blue Fascists, but this country is in fact still a democracy and just because you Want people to vote blue doesn't mean they have to and you feeling they're the best doesn't make you right!

Other people aren't "wrong" for not wanting your conservative Jurassic party in power anymore.

They can vote how they want.

And if you see a poll that says 63% of people would rather NOT vote for either major party and your first thought is not: wow 63% is enough to elect someone we want, I'll support that.

And instead you go: how can I force them to vote for my party instead.

Then please understand it is not THEM splitting the vote. Biden will get MAYBE 40% votes. You gonna force 63% of the country to vote for someone they don't even want?

There's a name for that yeah?

How'd it work out in 2016 when y'all "forced" us to vote for Hillary by putting her on the ballot? She lost and she wasn't even actively commiting a genocide.

But you think Biden will not only earn votes from that 63% but he'll also win the election. Against trump. Which less blatantly shitty democrats have struggled to contend with?

Democrats are legitimately delusional.

Your problem is you see Democrats as being better than Republicans. While the rest of us see less and less of a difference every year. And you can only say you're "better" if you're different enough.

See this is what happens when you vote for the "lesser evil." Eventually that evil balances back out and you're left with the truth that your two main options are just evil.

Now the only people actually different enough to make that argument are third parties.

Coincidentally, that's what people are drawn to right now.

I know, go figure. It's almost like it makes sense to lose support when you consistently prop up shitty candidates nobody asked for every 4 years.

We do not have a two party system and you know that, that's why you sent this ask.

Cuz you're stressed dems might lose. Cuz you KNOW people have other options.

Good. Cuz they will lose if Biden is the democrat's nominee and Claudia de la Cruz stays in the race, which she will since she's running with PSL not democrats. So there's no competition. Her party is organized and chosen her and a VP already, she's guaranteed every one of their votes because her party works like a union does.

It's a wrap.

Biden can't use his "lesser evil" script with Claudia De La Cruz on the ballot actively challenging his genocide and imperialism.

Vote Claudia De La Cruz cuz you are a scooping water out of the Titanic trying to get 63% of Americans to think voting for a Genocidal warmonger is what's best for any of us, let alone the planet. And we didn't want him BEFORE he did any of this.

#asked #answered #voting

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[neonghostlights]

Summary: You haven’t been the same since you woke up in the hospital with memory loss after the earthquake hit Hawkins. When strange things start happening and you feel like you’ve started losing your mind, a group of strangers offer to help. Even though you’ve never met them before, they seem to know you better than you think. 

Warnings: Cops, Forceful Arrest, Sleepwalking, Blood/Injury, Emotionally Abusive and Manipulative Parent, Scars, Angst, Fluff, 18+ Only, Minors DNI

Wordcount: 3.6k

Series Masterlist

Part Fourteen

October 17th, 1986

Your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough. Your foot caught on something hard and slimy, sending you barreling towards the ground. You caught yourself, both palms scraping across the cold, hard dirt. 

You gritted your teeth as you hoisted yourself back up on your two legs. You couldn’t stop. 

Each pump of your legs was tiring. You felt the scrape of the ground against your bare feet. When did you take your shoes off?

You could see him lying in the distance. He wasn’t screaming anymore and the thought of what that might mean terrified you. He was illuminated by the red flashes of lightning against the sky. Each flash taunted you, reminding you that you were in the upside down. A place that was practically hell. 

You would give anything for him to be okay. He wasn’t going to die in this cold, evil place. 

Lungs heaving, you covered another stretch of ground towards the form that was Eddie. 

No matter how hard or fast you kept running, you never made it any closer. 

You screamed out in frustration, pumping your feet harder. It shouldn’t be taking this long to reach him. You had been running for what felt like hours. How many feet away were you? 50? 100? It didn’t matter. You should be there by now. 

Something gripped onto your arm tightly, halting your movements. You didn’t have time to see if it was a bat, a vine, or Vecna himself. Eddie needed you. 

You tried to jerk your arm away, letting out a yell in frustration when you couldn’t get away. Whatever it was gripped you tighter, dragging you off to the side. 

“Get off!” You screeched, digging your bare heels into the ground. You had left your weapons back at the trailer when you jumped in after Eddie. You hadn’t even considered having to fight anything off. You had gone after him unprepared and now you were both going to die here. 

If this was the end, you just needed to get near him first. You wished the universe would allow you that small mercy. 

“Stop resisting,” a voice commanded. 

A sharp sting to your wrist had you gasping. 

You looked over, finally coming face to face with your attacker just to be blinded by bright light. You blinked a few times, trying to see past the spots in your vision. 

Your attacker took your stillness as an opportunity to yank both arms behind your back. You could hear the clink of metal as they locked two cuffs around your wrists. 

The trees surrounding you became clearer as you adjusted to the sunlight. With each blink you could feel the sleep still crusted on your eyes. 

What was at your feet had you staring in horror. 

You stood right in front of a deep chasm in the earth. The grass surrounding it was dead and brown. Even the trees surrounding it were rotted and fallen onto each other. 

The police officer was still yelling at you as he hauled you backwards, your feet lying limply on the ground, trailing along. Out of the corner of your eye you could see people covered head to toe in hazmat suits, heads turned as they observed you being dragged away. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” The officer barked in your ear as he placed you up against his car. 

Tears started to stream down your face. “I don’t know where I am,” you sobbed. “Please call Eddie.”

“You’ll get a phone call at the jail,” he said as he opened the door and shoved you inside, closing it with a slam. 

You didn’t realize how much your feet hurt until you were at the station with them pressed up against the cold tiled floor. Thick mud caked up your exposed legs. You could see some scratches trailing up and down your shins. You’d hate to see what the bottom of your feet looked like based on the stinging pain. 

The metal of the handcuffs bit into your wrists harshly. You had asked them to loosen them once when you arrived but got ignored. They dropped you into a chair in the hallway outside the chief's office without another word.

A shiver racked through your body, the thin cotton of your sleep shorts and t-shirt not doing much to protect you from the cold air in the building. 

A stray tear trailed down your face and landed onto your lap. 

The last thing you remember was falling asleep in your spare bedroom last night after reading through the notebook. Eddie had been in the living room when you went to sleep. Had he stayed the night or did he end up going back to his trailer? 

You could now add sleepwalking to your list of Vecna related symptoms. 

The dream had been so real that you wondered if it was a memory somehow that slipped through. You could still feel the terror and adrenaline. Even now that you were aware that it was a dream, you still wanted to get up and run to Eddie. 

Was it a sign that something awful had happened to him while you were asleep? 

Had Vecna hurt Eddie somehow? You took a deep breath, closing your eyes but all you could see was the shape of Eddie lying on the ground in that place. 

You shifted in your chair, making it squeak. A police officer stuck his head around the corner and eyed you suspiciously. You froze, waiting for them to look away. When they finally did, you sighed and hung your head. 

The door to the station opened and closed with a slam. Heavy boots stomped across the ground. The few officers you could see stood quickly. 

“Chief,” one of them addressed whoever had just walked in. “She’s right over there.” They pointed at you. 

A tall man came around the corner and stared at you for a moment. You froze, recognition clicking into place. Chief Hopper had been the chief of police for years in Hawkins before he was injured in the mall fire, the same one you had apparently been involved in according to Eddie’s notebook. He was declared dead before he came out and announced that it was all a big mistake. You remembered seeing the story on the news and thinking it was bullshit but the rest of the town seemed to believe it. That’s what happens when a group of people are so used to strange things happening. 

Chief Hopper's face turned red with anger as he stared at you. You were terrified. The man really was scary. 

He turned to a group of cops that had accumulated behind him. “Why the hell is she handcuffed and why the hell hasn’t anyone gotten her a blanket?” He barked at them. Some of them scurried off, either running away or in search of a blanket. 

Officer Powell, who you had remembered from when you were brought in, stayed with the chief. “Chief, those environmental agents are pissed that she went near one of the earthquake sites. They’re pushing to have her charged. Plus, she resisted arrest when Callahan grabbed her.” 

Chief Hopper turned his body slightly, his voice muttered but you could still hear every word he was saying in the now dead quiet station. “She is not well. She has some stuff going on…mentally. I’m not going to let those agents try to use her as an example.”

Officer Powell shot you a look of pity. With a slight nod he approached you, gently unlocking the handcuffs. You stretched your wrists in front of you. They were swollen and aching but they would be okay. 

A younger officer draped a blanket over you before running away from Chief Hopper's stare. 

“Why were you at the site?” Hopper asked in a stern voice. 

“I was sleepwalking. I think,” you said softly, pulling the blanket around you tightly. 

The man nodded. Looking down at your feet. 

“Looks like you messed yourself up quite a bit.”

You nodded silently, scared that if you said anything he would turn on you. 

The older secretary that smiled at you when you walked in approached the chief with a cup of coffee and a smile. “I went ahead and called her mom. I let her know it was just a misunderstanding. She’s on the way here.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. 

“No,” you yelled, jumping up from your seat. Your muddy feet slipped against the floor, leaving you grasping for the chair to catch your balance. Your mom couldn’t know about this. Of course this would happen on the day she got back from her trip. “Call her back. Tell her it was a mistake,” you demanded. 

Chief Hopper turned to the woman. “Why would you call her?” 

She shot you a sad look. “Honey, I know you’re an adult and all but I also know your mother. She would want to know that you were here. Especially with you being in the state you’re in.”  

Hopper ran a hand down his face in frustration. The woman noticed and walked away shaking her head. 

You collapsed back in your chair. “I need to go home. Eddie’s there and I need to make sure he’s okay.” 

“Okay. This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to call your mom back and let her know I’m bringing you back home. Hopefully that will help calm things down so she doesn’t explode in the middle of my police station,” Hopper said as he gestured for you to get up and come with him. “I’m on your side. I talked to El last night and I know about everything that’s going on. We’re going to make sure you get better.”

For some reason, his words made you feel a little bit better. 

“So, you know El and everyone?” You asked as you sat in the front seat of Hoppers police car. 

Hopper let out a laugh. “I know everyone and everything. Including you. And El is my daughter.”

“El’s your daughter?” you sputtered out. 

Hopper nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“So you were involved with everything too?” You questioned, wanting to make sure you weren’t giving information away to someone who shouldn’t have it. 

“Unfortunately,” he mumbled. 

He let out a deep sigh when you pulled up in front of your house and saw your mom standing outside with her arms waving in the air, yelling at a frantic Eddie. 

The car wasn’t even in park before you were jumping out, bare feet hitting the ground hard. 

“Holy shit,” he yelled, rushing towards you and pulling you into him. “What the hell happened? I woke up and you were just gone and I didn’t know what to do,” he rushed out. 

“I’m okay,” you said, rubbing his arm. “I’ll explain later.”

“Why the hell is he here? Does someone want to tell me what is going on?” Your mom yelled, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you away from Eddie. You jerked your arm away from her, leaning back to Eddie. 

Her face was shocked by your behavior. You couldn’t remember a time when you openly defied her. It felt good. 

“Absolutely not,” she snapped. 

“Everyone calm down,” Hopper demanded as he approached. 

“Thank god you’re here. He cannot be here. I want him arrested, Chief!” Your mom screamed, pointing a finger at Eddie. 

“I want him here!” you yelled back at her. 

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are mentally unwell! You cannot imagine how terrified I was this morning when you didn’t show up to the airport to pick me up and then I got home and received a call telling me you were arrested for trespassing. I had to catch a ride all the way here from a neighbor. Do you realize how embarrassing that is? Enough is enough,” your mom snapped. 

“You’re right. Enough is enough, mom. You’re not going to keep manipulating me anymore,” you said in a stern voice. 

She let out a laugh. “Is that what he told you? I’m manipulating you? He’s trailer trash, honey, you can’t listen to him. He’s trying to fill your head with lies just to use you.”

“I found the pictures. I know that you’ve been hiding everything from me. You can stop lying now.”

Your mom sputtered, looking frantically between you and Eddie. She clenched her jaw, lifting her chin high. 

“I want him arrested, Chief. He’s trespassing on private property,” your mom declared instead of denying your claims. 

Chief Hopper groaned, making no move to arrest Eddie. Your mom looked at the chief like he was crazy for not following her orders. 

“You can’t do that,” Eddie spoke up. “It’s not your property.” 

You looked back at him, confused. Of course it was your moms property. Who else would it belong to?

“Mom?” You asked, trying to figure out what was going on. 

“It’s your house,” Eddie told you softly. 

“What? No it’s not,” you laughed, shaking your head. 

Your mom stood silently, hatefully glaring at Eddie. Her look told you all you needed to know. 

“You were just going to let me think it wasn’t mine and that you could pull it out from under me whenever you felt like it? I had to beg you to let me move in here when it really was mine the whole time,” You yelled, getting closer to her out of your anger. 

“Is the house in her name?” Hopper asked your mom, calmly. 

Your mom didn’t answer, refusing to look at any of you as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the house. 

“I want her to leave,” you told Hopper. “And I don’t want her to come back.”

Your mom gasped at your words, staring at you like she couldn’t believe it. 

“You heard her,” Hopper said, going into cop mode. “Time to go.” He put hand on your moms back to guide her to her car. 

You ran inside and snatched her keys off the hook by the front door, making sure to take the copy of your house key off them first. You tossed the car keys at her feet.

You wished you could get the words out and tell her to never ever speak to you ever again. But looking at your moms face, you just couldn’t. Maybe one day you could grow a spine of steel, but for now this would have to be enough. 

She cast you one last angry look before she got into her car and pulled away.  

“You okay, kid?” Hopper asked. 

You nodded silently. He spoke to Eddie some but you weren’t sure what he was saying over the loud ringing in your ears. 

Hopper left, leaving you and Eddie alone in your driveway. 

“Come here,” Eddie said, guiding you into the house. Eddie hissed through his teeth when he saw the state of your injured feet and palms. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing at the couch that still had the indent from where he slept. 

He grabbed your first aid kit out the bathroom before kneeling in front of you and gently wiping the mud off of you. 

“What happened, baby?” He asked.

“I was dreaming that I was in that bad place. I was running trying to save you because you were on the ground bleeding. I woke up in the woods with a police officer arresting me,” you paused to take a breath, “and then I was so worried when I woke up because I thought something had actually happened to you.”

Eddie kept his eyes down at your wounds. He muttered an apology when he rubbed the alcohol against them, making you jump. 

“I was so scared,” he admitted, hands still trembling from the adrenaline rush. “I woke up and went back there to check on you and you were just gone. I searched the whole house. That’s when I realized the front door was cracked open, I guess from when you escaped. I can’t believe I didn't wake up. I was calling the cops when your mom pulled up outside.”

“I didn’t call her. The police station did,” you explained. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

You took a deep breath. Were you okay?

“Not really.” You settled for the truth. 

Eddie looked up at you when he was done wrapping your feet. He stayed kneeling in front of you, hands placed gently on your knees. 

“We can’t wait any longer. We need to get him out of my head now, Eddie. It’s getting too dangerous. I wanted more time but I don’t think I have anymore.”

“What do you want me to do? Tell me what you need,” Eddie said as he placed a gentle hand on your leg. 

“Can you call everyone? Tell them I’m ready to do this,” you told him. 

Eddie nodded, standing up and letting the warmth of his hand drop from your leg. You heard him go to the kitchen and pick up the phone while you stared blankly at your lap. 

Eddie kept the conversation with whoever he called short. You didn’t want to hear what he told them. Hopefully he would dive into the fact that you had been arrested over the phone. That seemed more like an in person conversation. 

Eddie walked back into the living room. “Everyone is going to come this evening.”

You nodded, looking up at his worried face. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything.” You knew at that moment he was telling you the truth. Eddie would do anything for you. He’d proven that time and time again. What you had read in that notebook was the story of a man that was deeply in love. It made you ache. 

“Hold me until it’s time? Please,” you requested. Eddie’s eyes softened even more to the point that you thought he was going to turn to putty on the floor. 

You didn’t wait for him to answer, instead you stood up and took his hand, leading him to the spare bedroom. 

You fit together perfectly as you laid in bed together. You spent hours memorizing the freckles on his skin and the pieces of his hair that were curlier than the other. Eddie showed you his scars, and to both of your surprise, you kissed them all. Eddie shivered as you ran your lips softly over the rumpled, pink flesh. 

You were currently lying on your side with Eddie holding you from behind. There was nothing sexual about it, just comfort. 

“Eddie?” You asked, breaking the silence. 

“Hm?” He hummed. 

“Why didn’t you ever just move on?” 

“I told you. You’re it for me,” he mumbled groggily. You must have caught him right on the edge of sleep. 

“No. I mean-" You rolled over to face him now. His hand fell to your waist, rubbing patterns through the thin material of your shorts. “Don’t you think it would have just been easier for you? You could have considered it a fresh start. You could’ve left Hawkins and just started over.”

Eddie took a deep breath. “You really think I could’ve just left you here? Even if you never remembered me, I was going to stay wherever you were. I knew that one day if I could never get to you, you might move on, find someone new and have a life with them without remembering the time you spent with me. I was fully prepared to watch from a distance and torture myself. But then when we ran into each other at the gas station, and I saw you for the first time in months something snapped in me. I realized I couldn’t just let you go. So when Robin let me know you needed a mechanic, I saw it as fate.”

“But why? Why would you do that? You could’ve been happy.”

Eddie shook his head. “There was no way I could have ever been happy without you. You have no clue how many times I had to stop myself from coming here and just telling you everything. I never ever gave up on you. I love you.” 

You sighed. “What about the house? How could my mom just keep that from me?”

“Because she’s been trying to talk you into signing over to her for years. We were supposed to live here…after I graduated,” he informed you with a soft look in his eyes. 

This was supposed to be your home with Eddie. If things had gone as planned and Eddie had graduated, where would you be now? Would you two have a life together here? Would you still be in school, working to build a future? 

Home. When was the last time something felt like home? Surely not your mother’s house. This place didn’t even feel like home no matter how much you loved your grandmother. It was just planks of wood with some memories embedded in them. 

Maybe when all this was over you and Eddie could make a new home together. 

You tucked your head against Eddie’s chest gently. Eddie, who had been your rock, even from a distance. He had never stopped fighting for you, and you would never stop fighting for him now that you knew what you would leave behind if you gave up. 

Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around you. There would be no way for you to start sleepwalking now without waking him up. 

You and Eddie dozed in and out of sleep for the rest of the day. In this bedroom nothing on the outside could hurt you. You were just two people falling in love all over again. 

You stayed in your little place of bliss until the real world started knocking on your front door. 

#eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you

[sepublic]

Jokes aside, I’d argue Belos isn't openly homophobic because there's no point to it; There's no point in trying to 'redeem' witches and demons by changing their lifestyles if he's convinced himself they're all going to Hell anyway, so the only thing he needs to do is kill them. "Why bother teaching them anything if you can just wipe them out?"

Belos only changes aspects of witches' lives that are directly necessary to his plans; In this case, applying sigils by justifying the lack of them as 'wild magic', and then keeping magic divided with different covens so they can't easily rebel against the system that's applying sigils, thereby allowing it to keep doing that and marking as many targets as possible for the draining spell. It's really quite simple. That's why he'll refuse to replenish the Palistrom forests but then promote women like Hettie and Terra to coven heads; Because Hettie and Terra will be killed by the draining spell anyway, but Palismen won't be.

And let's be real... He's a Puritan white guy. He absolutely believes that queerness is inherently a threat to society not just on a spiritual level but a biological one, because it discourages people from making babies because they're more focused on partners of the same sex they can't reproduce with. He probably thought Boiling Isles queerness was contributing to an inevitable decline that he merely hastened and that's why he allowed it. And Belos can't be openly bigoted because people wouldn't listen to him that way.

He's also definitely racist. Belos making an 'exception' for Luz is totally meaningless because white racists make exceptions for brown and gay folk all the time, while still clinging to their beliefs. Luz just happened to be the only human around since centuries, and that's better than no humans because the lowliest one is still above the greatest demon. And he still tried to murder Luz when she didn't flatter his white savior complex, and didn't adhere to his idea of what a proper human should be.

Even if Belos didn't try to kill Luz... Genocide isn't just murdering people. It's also erasing a culture, such as when white people assimilated Native American children, forcing them to convert to Christianity and dress like white people and speak only English, under the claim that they were 'civilizing' them. So even if they were alive, it was still genocide and it was still racism in the form of the White Man's Burden.

He was a white boy raised in a colony, everyone would've taught him that the indigenous people were 'savages' and Philip not only devoted his life to exterminating an entire culture he deemed evil and demonic, but actively enjoyed it too. Why would he stop at brown humans, unlike Caleb who already unlearned one major prejudice of his. If he never learned of the Boiling Isles, he'd have gone after women in Gravesfield (which would've been misogynistic in practice regardless of Philip's intentions), and probably Native Americans too because his witch hunting games are no different than Cowboys VS Indians.

Like I dunno man these white racists do have fellow white people they care about, and are willing to make exceptions and humor brown women too. But they're still racist and will refuse to listen to those people when called out over their bigotry, and ultimately choose that. Any argument that Belos wouldn't be guilty of other human prejudices is purely wishful thinking, and fairly contradictory to his characterization and whole narrative.

And we can wax poetic about why Belos doesn't openly disparage Luz for being brown, queer, and/or a girl, but we know the real reason why; It's because Disney censors would throw a conniption over portrayals of bigotry, and the show was already shortened for 'not fitting the brand'. Look at how Texas banned critical race theory. They think discussing racism is inherently racist, kinda like Twitter users. But with the added difference that they know it's a callout of the people running corporations and the government and investors (AKA themselves) and they hate that.

This kinda gets me back to an earlier point I made; I think the fundamental disconnect fans have with the show over Belos is that Belos stans (not necessarily fans) recognize their character's backstory and motives are something gross that can't be romanticized, and that's why they work so hard to reframe the focus towards Philip's dynamic with his brother Caleb, emphasizing codependency, and religious suppression and guilt. Because they can romanticize that, but not the intentionally pathetic core of Belos' character (itself a satire of certain subgroups).

They're seething over the reminder that their sexy aesthetic will always be second-banana to a 4channer complex, and salty that the crew chose to discuss something topical instead of making a sexyman villain, because their complaints can be boiled down to tastes and preferences, not actual objective critique. That's also why they claim the finale 'retconned' Belos and stripped him of nuance, because all the show really did was just frame and acknowledge his desire to be right as cowardly and selfish, instead of flattering him with tortured abandonment angst over a brother he never cared enough for. As if we didn’t have the ghosts in the previous episode for that purpose.

#the owl house #emperor belos #philip wittebane #racism #homophobia #misogyny

[noirsfantasy]

On the fifth day of Christmas…

𝔄 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔨 ℜ𝔬𝔠𝔨 ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔰

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Hobie Brown x Black!Fem Reader

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔥 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛1.5K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ It’s time to decorate the tree, although it’s not going according to plan. You had the perfect idea of how a Christmas tree should look. However, your boyfriend, Hobie, had other ideas. You both begin to argue and it seems to be going no where. Words are said and feelings get hurt. Will you be able to fix this?

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ Guys, I can confirm that Hobie is just a big kid on the inside. But while some might think he’s spewing nonsense, he might actually have a point. I hope you enjoy!

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

“No, Hobes! It doesn’t go there.” I swat Hobie’s hand away from the tree as he attempts to place one of his Star Wars ornaments in the center. It's Christmas Eve and Hobie and I are facing off in front of a pile of decorations. This familiar argument about how to decorate the tree is playing out for what feels like the millionth time. My preference leans towards a more structured and organized aesthetic, while Hobie leans towards a free and chaotic approach, arguing that an orderly tree is a submission to capitalism.

“Right, how 'bout this, then?” Hobie holds up some blue tinsel, and I immediately push his hands away from the tree once again.

"I'm not putting that on the tree, Hobie. It goes gold and then red! Blue shouldn’t be anywhere near this tree." I explain while wrapping the red tinsel around the tree. Hobie rolls his eyes.

“What’s the issue? Blue’s a good color.” He throws his hands up, looking at me incredulously. Ignoring him, I continue sorting through the decorations for matching ornaments.

“Oh, so you're just gonna let the suits dictate your every move, huh? You gonna let the capitalist drones run your life?" Hobie accuses, snatching the tinsel from my hands and wrapping it the opposite way.

"Oh, don't start that, Hobie. I just want our tree to look nice and neat this year." I argue, reclaiming the tinsel and wrapping it correctly. Hobie persists, emphasizing his disdain for conforming to holiday traditions dictated by corporations.

“Yeah, you're just a conformist sheep, ain't ya? No clue what's really goin' on, just followin' the herd. Wake up, man!” He says angrily, wrapping the tinsel even more so. He looks at me as if I am completely clueless.

"Conformist to what? Santa Claus's evil agenda?" I mock, yanking the tinsel out of his hands. Hobie snickers, but he doesn’t look impressed.

“The corporations are manipulating the spirit of Christmas, so you’ll buy presents! Can’t you see that, you wanker?”

"Who gives a damn? It's Christmas for Christ's sake!" I throw my hands up and it seems our conversation is getting out of hand. Hobie scrunches up his nose as the argument escalates.

“Exactly! It’s Christmas! The day when you’re supposed to be spending time with people you love, not maxing out your credit card on useless junk. Can't blame ya, it's that corporate mind game. Same goes for Valentine's Day—just another cash grab, man!” He starts to enter into his rant about how Valentine’s Day is pointless. Ignoring his conspiracy theories, I redirect our focus.

"Don't even start! Listen, we're not putting your stupid Star Wars ornaments on the tree and that's final. Now stop arguing and hand me those angel ornaments, will you?" I huff as I hold out my hand, determined to maintain order.

“These Star Wars ornaments are rad! Come on, just a little—” Hobie protests, attempting to convince me to allow at least one Star Wars ornament. "How 'bout just the Baby Yoda? Stick it in the back, it'll be lowkey." I sigh, contemplating the idea for a moment.

"Fine, you can put it right there." I relent, pointing to the spot on the tree. Hobie's face immediately lights up when I give in and allow him to put a baby Yoda ornament up, near the back. Despite his punk rock appearance, he actually has a soft side.

"Cheers, luv," Hobie smiles at me. He quickly unwraps the baby Yoda ornament and carefully placed it where I pointed, and then steps back to admire the result. I cringe at the way it clashes with my previous work.

“So what do you think?” He asks, looking over at me. I don’t really respond, instead looking off to the side. Hobie’s smile begins to fade when he realizes that I am unimpressed by the result of his handiwork.

“What’s wrong with it?” His facial expression turns into one of confusion. “I think it turned out pretty nice,” He said, defending his choice of decoration.

"It doesn't match, Hobes. It looks out of place like I knew it would." I grumble, crossing my arms. Hobie looks at me, genuinely hurt, and his expression turns sad.

"Sorry, luv..." He apologizes, his voice soft and sincere. "I just thought it would be cool... But I guess I don't know anything about aesthetics." He puts his hands in his pockets and lowers his head. He seems genuinely upset that I didn't like his contribution. Hobie turns away from me, deflated as he walks out of the room. I feel a twinge of guilt as I turn to look back at the tree.

His shoulders are hunched up and he is obviously disappointed. As he leaves the room, he mutters, "Stupid Christmas tree..." under his breath. I can't help but feel a bit guilty as I continue to look at the tree.

I stare at it, watching the out-of-place ornament, and thinking, 'Is it really worth it?' I just made a whole argument out of something we were meant to be doing together. I'd put my need for perfection over my own boyfriend and now he's upset. And why? Because some baby Yoda ornament didn't match my idea of what a Christmas tree should look like.

It really clicks in my head. Hobie wasn't just being a nonconformist or trying to ruin the tree. He was trying to have fun with his girlfriend and decorate the tree in a way that shows both of our creativity. I sigh as I turn away from the tree and run to the kitchen to where Hobie is.

"Hobie? Babe?" I find him sitting at the kitchen table with his back towards me. He seems to be focused on something, probably sulking. I call his name again and he slowly turns to look at me.

"Yeah, luv?" He asks, trying to sound cool and nonchalant, but his hurt expression betrays him. I sit across from him and look into his eyes. He avoids my gaze. I place my hand gently on his and bite my lip as I try to find words.

"Hobie, I'm sorry." I start. Hobie feels a wave of relief wash over him when I apologize. He looks up at me and his expression softens. He's clearly still hurt, but he seems much more relaxed knowing that I still care about his feelings.

"It's alright, luv," Hobie replies, giving my hand a little squeeze as he looks into my eyes. "I might've gone a bit overboard, I get it. The Christmas vibes hit me hard, you know? Just wanted to make it extra special 'cause I know it's a big deal for you. And-" He pauses as I press my finger to his lips.

"No, Hobie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, or tried to shut down your ideas. This isn't my home and that isn't my tree. It's our home and our tree. And it should reflect both of our creativity, not just what I think it should." Hobie's face brightens as I say that. He is a bit taken aback by my admission, but also really appreciates it. His expression turns into a smile as he stands up, pulling me with him.

"That's... really sweet, luv." He says in a soft voice and pulls me into a warm hug. "And you're right, this is our home, and it should reflect both of our tastes." He pauses and then speaks again in a more playful tone. "Even if you have bad taste."

I push away from the hug, feigning a look of offense as I playfully swat his shoulder. "I do not have bad taste!" Hobie pulls me back in and leans in to kiss my lips.

"Yes, you do. But at least you're pretty to look at." He says in a joking manner, then gives me another kiss. His lips press against mine with a tender and passionate intensity. His tongue brushes along my lips momentarily before he pulls his head back, keeping his lips close to mine.

"So, do you wanna take a break from decorating the tree and, you know...?" He trails off suggestively with a smirk and I laugh, rolling my eyes.

"Babe! We need to finish the tree!" I manage to say between giggles as I try to escape his grip. He doesn't let me pull away, instead he picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Tree's not going anywhere, luv. We can decorate it tomorrow." Hobie mumbles against my skin, kissing my neck and starts walking towards our bedroom.

"But tomorrow's Christmas!" I shout before the door slams shut.

#fluff #spider punk #hobie brown #hobart brown #atsv #oneshot #atsv hobie #hobie x reader #hobie x black!reader #hobie x y/n #spider punk x reader #spider punk x black!reader #spider punk fluff #hobie brown fluff #christmas fluff #noirsfantasy #12 days of christmas #christmas #black reader #black reader fluff #black romance #black writers

[naughtybg3confessions]

not a confession but regarding kinks scenarios etc implying poor hygiene and such concerning gortash: there's a huge issue i've seen brought up multiple times by turkish and middle eastern bg3 fans asking for people to be more sensitive and considerate about the racist stereotype of brown men looking and/or being dirty or smelly that's ignored over and over by the fandom. this isn't shaming anyone for kinks but it's something that needs awareness cuz it means something very different applied to other characters than it does with gortash. sometimes it's a genuine mistake of ignorance on their part but a lot of people are knowingly using it as an excuse for colourism and exoticism and it's important to listen when poc fans are literally pleading for people to stop calling the turkish man a dirty greasy rat. i mean no rudeness by sending this i just think it should be known and to help avoid future issues that might be encountered with running a blog like this

Let me start by saying I'm only part Turkish, so I'm coming from the place of someone who hasn't experienced discrimination in the same way. I honestly had no idea Gortash was intended to be Turkish, as Turkish names and words are used commonly throughout the game. But I can see the connection here, and it's awful that there are people out there saying such things with those intentions, and ignoring the people who are most affected by them.

I want to believe the average Gortash fan sees him as 'dirty' because of the yellow teeth, bloodshot eyes, bedhead, sloppily laced robe, and general evilness- though I guess it's also unfortunate that people associate poor character with bad hygiene. But I think he tends to attract fans who already have a particular set of kinks, and like me are probably wholly unaware of the implications. So, thank you for making us more aware. I'm not saying your experience isn't real, just agreeing with you that in some cases I don't think it's coming from a place of intentional racism. As I said, I was even clueless that Gortash was intended to be Turkish at all. I'm just not in the Gortash side of the fandom enough, I guess.

Exoticizing and bigotry are mentioned as explicitly against the rules here- I do my best to enforce this, but there are nuances to that I'm likely ignorant of. If anyone is talking about any character from that place- especially when POC are saying it's damaging- we as a fandom need to reflect on that, and not tolerate it. To anyone objectifying Gortash or any person with those intentions, you are not welcome here.

As for how I'm going to enforce this, I'm honestly not sure. I'm hesitant to blanket ban all stinky Gortash anons, since I allow those confessions for all the characters and banning them just for POC characters also has unfortunate implications, I feel. Anon or any POC followers, you are invited to weigh in on what you think I should do?

#in any case i will be keeping this in mind when i read how confessions are phrased and do my best for now #and im sorry if the confessions here have made you feel unwelcome. you are more than welcome to express your feelings here #answering asks #i hope im being respectful here. im autistic and tend to phrase things poorly without realizing :S #enver gortash

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[taetaespeaks]

The Wife / THV part.3

genre : yandere taehyung, failing marriage, mean and cruel protagonists

summery : you five were the nightmares of teachers back in high school, now adults, your cruel and violent temperament doesn’t seem to have change neither does have the obsession taehyung has for you.

warnings : mean protagonists!!!!, smut, s3xual descriptions, strong language, violence, cruelty from the protagonists themselves. here we have an evil y/n. read at your own risk ! this story is hard and violent do not read if you’re sensitive to those topics.

rate : +18 only minors do not interact

<- masterlist ->

It must have been around two hours since you and Taehyung had started your walk around Bangtan Lake, more precisely, the lake in front of your old high school, the place where you always gathered, you, Taehyung, Jimin, Sa ra and Jeongguk to cause trouble to anyone who dared to cross your fiery teenage eyes. You had to admit that you didn't see the time pass, how could you ? As you were walking to the right of the handsome young man with neatly combed brown hair, eyes dark as night but still shining with a chocolate glow that was Kim Taehyung. You found yourself observing him, his lips perfectly drawn, his moles, every single one of them, as if to learn them by heart, only to realize that you had never forgotten them.

"...and do you remember how we became friends?"

Friends? If you and Taehyung had been just friends it would be a fact known by everyone by now. Anyone with a little common sense would notice the somewhat questionable relationship between the two of you, however, your goal was not to simply create a TV drama romance where the sad wife ends up with the so kind and brave best-friend of her mean husband but rather to give you the life you deserved, even if it meant using the boy with a boxy smile that had an old crush on you. You were tired of being restricted to the cold, unwelcoming wall of the Jeon's house. You dreamed of something else. Of passion. Plus, it wasn't like Jeongguk loved you. Realizing that the time was getting rather longer that it should have during your silence, you began to fake thinking about his question, even though you knew the answer pretty well.

"Well, it's complicated. It's a whole series of meetings. First, there was Jimin-" Your eyes sparkled at the mention of the name of your beloved best friend since childhood. Taehyung's heart sank. He looked away from your sweet face, hoping to calm his jealousy as he watched the cherry blossoms, the blue sky reflecting on the lake, and the daffodils moving elegantly in the wind, but nothing could calm the coldness and anger growing in his heart. Deep down he knew that if he could take you away from Jeongguk, you could never forgive him for separating you from Jimin, he was no fool. The pain of being away from him now when he was perfectly healthy just in another country seemed to be already too much for you, so loosing him ? Nah. "We were very young when we met, in elementary school maybe, you should have seen how small Jimin was! Smaller than me." The role of high duchess scorned now abandoned, you let yourself share your memories with your old companion with a fervor that was rare to you. Very rare. "He came from a rich family too, obviously, mother wouldn't have allowed me to hangout with him if he didn't! He came up to me one day in the playground and since then we were inseparable. For a long time, mother thought about marrying me to Jimin. We didn't have any feelings for each other, of course, but we could have put up with it, found an arrangement, not to live together or whatever... In middle school, we met Sa ra. Not at all the kind of people I'm interested in. Always hanging out in front of the tobacconists like a lost soul. Miserable. Plus, her father's business went bankrupt and her mother was a housewife, but Jimin took a liking to her, somehow. He thought she was funny. So the three of us started hanging out. You and Jeongguk came along later, in high school. You were best friends, weren't you?" Taehyung nodded silently. "Rich and handsome. You were immediately adopted. If Jeongguk was quiet, he was far more cruel and violent than me and Jimin had ever been. Sa ra loved him for that! As for you, you were different."

"How so?"

"Softer, strangely enough. Sometimes I wondered what you were even doing around us." Taehyung smiled grimly but didn't explain the reason for his sudden amusement.

"It's true."

"If it wasn't for my attraction for you, you would never have stayed in the group."

"If you say so."

Taehyung knew very well that in this pack of violent teenagers, you had always been the leader, everyone knew that. If you wanted to get him out of the way, you would have, but he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't. Just like when he had broken the arms and nose of that little Yoongi jerk who wanted to ask you out for prom. You just didn't know about it even though you thought you knew everything.

"Would it make you so happy to see Jimin again?"

"Of course!" The answer came without delay. "Why?"

"I could arrange that." You smiled, slightly.

"How many things can you arrange for me, Kim Taehyung?"

"As many as you ask me."

"And if I asked you to make love to me in your car right now, would you ?”

•••

Slowly, Taehyung lifted your short dress over your hips to your waist, while, with your chest pressed against the back seats of his porsche you waited for the fateful moment of his touch against your skin. Teahyung was taking his time, watching the curves of your ass standing up to him, his pants suddenly becoming horribly tight.

His long, elegant fingers penetrated you with ease, unholy noises escaping from your soaked cunt, waiting for him, already ready to welcome more of his body. He curled his fingers to reach that spot you loved so much making you moan under him. He repeated his action faster, so fast that the ball of pleasure in your stomach began to be felt so early that it came to surprise you. The wetness already dripping down your inner thighs spoke volumes about your excitement.

"You haven't changed. You still love it so much." Taehyung bit his bottom lip, moaning at the sight of your cunt so docile under his touch.

"Tae, fuck me and stop your bullshit."

He obeyed, he always obeyed.

His pants soon on the floor, joining your light black lace thong, Taehyung played with the tip of his cock at the entrance of your pussy closing and opening on air, begging for attention.

"Tae...please."

He slid into you suddenly, wringing a cry of satisfaction from you that made him cry out in pleasure himself. Unable to control himself, he began his unforgivable thrusts, moving in and out of your soaked cunt to the point that the telltale sounds of your flesh slapping against each other became the only thing you could hear. Your wetness running down your legs, now staining his, your cheek pressed against the aching brass of the seats as Taehyung watched in delight your body lunching forwards at any thrust of his as his huge member was penetrating you mercilessly, soaking itself with all your precious juice. You were driving him truly insane.

•••

The sight of the gate of the huge mansion you were struggling to call home brought you back to harsh reality. Taehyung still hadn't saved you from the life you were leading. Your face changed, coming back to coldness and pure evilness.

"Don't sulk. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, whatever." You answered coldly, disappointed at the sight of the so depressing facts. "Here, you can keep this." Without looking at him, you dropped your thong, still wet with your fluids in his lap, causing him to smile unhealthily at you. Slamming the car door, you staggered back to the villa where you would surely be alone since Jeongguk was probably still in the office fucking one of his whore.

Taehyung smiled, watching you, bringing your underwear to his nose and smelling you. You were everything he had ever wanted, his greatest dream. How could you believe that he had not yet done anything to provide for you? It was only a matter of time before you were his.

•••

The water in your bath was already getting uncomfortably cold when your phone rang. Sigh. You didn't like being alone, you didn't like being with people. What did you like? Wiping your right hand on the nearest towel, you grabbed your phone from the small table where you put your perfumes and brought it to your ear.

"Jeon y/n."

"Gngngn, Jeon y/n, whatever." A slight smile stretched your lips at the sound of your best friend's voice.

"ChimChim, I'm honored to see that you haven't forgotten about me." You say, eyeing your painted nails with disdain.

"Don't start. Work is unforgiving, but you wouldn’t understand. How could you ? I mean, what, you’re probably in your hot tub, you know the one paid by Daddy Jeoncock, as we speak ?” You swallowed a chuckle.

"What do you want, asshole?"

"What do you mean what do I want? Why didn't you tell me?” Your confused silence seemed to annoy him. "Your dear handsome daddy in law owes the company Kim millions! Millions, you hateful bitch!”

You stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, sitting up in the bath suddenly, almost dropping your phone into the water where the foam had already disappeared.

"What are you talking about, Jimin?"

"I'm sending you the article."

A soft bip announced the receipt of the message and as you plunged into reading the article you almost felt your organs clench inside your body. This was not possible! Impossible!

«…Gi Jeon, the famous Korean businessman is facing prison for swindling and abusing employees as well as defaming Kim's company leader Kim Taehyung, and sexually harassing some of the women working under Kim's company. Several million dollars are at stake...»

Slowly, a smile came to rise on your lips. Taehyung. Then a hysterical laugh, louder by the second.

"Fuck, I leave for a few years and my best friend goes completely insane! I should come back within the month to support you, I mean, do you even you realize ? Mama, Jeongguk is in trouble."

"Oh yeah, right ? I know he is."

<tag list : @gethatcake @multifandombishthatlovekth>

sorry for the late uptade, college work and everything yk :/ waiting for your returns tho &lt;3

#bts x reader #bts #jeon jungkook x reader #park jimin #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts taehyung #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x reader yandere #kim teahyung #kim teahyung x reader smut #park jimin x reader

[i-am-autistic]

This is an ST rant I been meaning to do for a while

Honestly like the best part of being in fandoms is all the different thigns people create like......idk man Im not even often made to feel bad for the things I post except one or two that I block occasionally. But I see a lot of like Billy fans get a lot of shit and it's like I never gave a shit for Billy and he gave me the ick immediately(as a character in the show). But he was a character for 2 seasons, and enough of him was explored that was sympathetic and relatable and a different view into abuse than any other character. I never understand people who are befuddled that Billy has a fanbase.......like he is a major character in s2 and s3 obviously he has a fanbase. It's incredible to me people think that you can separate parts of the show as if the same writing room and the same writers aren't coming up with it. Im a Jonathan fan and for a long time any engagement about him was like this too....people don't remember that S1/2 Jonathan got treated just like Billy. Now that there's a decent contingent of Jonathan fans on tumblr and reddit and such you can actually talk about and engage with the character but in s1/s2 the only way to do it was to search AO3 tags because his tumblr tag was dead and everyone on reddit hated him. And it's just like you can't take out one part of the show(especially characters that are so crucial to their seasons) and say this is evil and not part of the show and all these other parts are fine and cool and cute and memeable but this other thing is so ugly and should be ignored. Which is the reaction I feel some people have to certain things in shows they like and it's such a 2024 response to shit but like can we just be normal about shit PLEASE. You can like a character who has done heinous things man, it is a fictional character they are literally made to be liked and reflect real life people. You are literally allowed and hella valid to do this even if the fanbase is small and people don't want you to and people don't get it and are constantly shouting at you not to. It's literally fandom there is more important things to fight in the world than fans of things that make you uncomfortable in a Netflix show. There is nothing at all wrong with liking a character and relating to one who has done something awful or creepy or nasty. It is literally not real, the actions are not real, there is no real crime, no real victim and no real aggressor because it's not real. Seriously all characters are somewhat of a reflection of the writers and their experiences and play a part in building the world out.....yes even the awfully written ones and the bad racist stereotype ones. and the ones that happen after the show or book series or comic or movie series or whatever "got bad". Those are still part of the story and part of the world. I feel I should clarify Im a brown person because IK people will assume and say awful things in the replies if not. And I'm sure this will still get some hate but I'll just block I ain't responding to shit, if you send stupid stuff in the replies it's just sending hate mail Im just deleting it and not responding.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk (I've wanted to do a Billy post for a while but I don't have a ton of stake in the character so it kept getting pushed back. I hope people who interact with my posts don't stop or block me because of this :(. I understand there is a lot of animosity towards the character but I think that's just sad because it drowns out a lot of discussion about him. I hope it will be understood this is not an endorsement or defense of his racist stuff and bad character traits)

#jonathan byers #Billy hargrove #stranger Things

[ablednt]

"You can't remove Jewish people from Israel because they're not safe anywhere else"

1. Returning sovereignty to Palestine does not equal expelling everyone else, they'd become citizens of Palestine. The idea that restoring sovereignty doesn't equal colonizing the colonizers is a basic concept of the Land Back movement please actually listen to people

2. You can say that being israeli and being Jewish are synonymous as long as you want but it won't erase antizionist Jews OR Palestinian Jews

3. Imagine thinking Israel is safe for Jewish people like. The whole reason y'all are so loud about october 7th is because it shattered the illusion that Israel is a safe place except instead of considering that a nation that actively and violently displaces people is generating that hostility itself you blame the evil brown people for wanting their homes back

4. Even if Israel was some magical perfect utopia free of antisemitism, if that comes at the cost of violent oppression of the native people then yeah I don't care the same way I don't care when people in the US are afraid of Land Back movements because "they'll do to us what we did to them". Get the fuck over it. Yk like you've been making them do for decades to centuries.

5. To reiterate here when you say that Israeli occupation must stay in power to protect Jewish people everywhere you are quite literally saying "my safety is more important than Palistinian's" and "my life is worth more than theirs" like it's not doing you any favors

Don't get me wrong the world is a terrifying place especially if you're marginalized, especially if you're Jewish, I am not going to deny that or to minimize the centuries of generational trauma and ongoing oppression that Jewish people face. I don't blame you for wanting to prioritize your own community's safety. I just don't think that your need for safety (especially everyone who's never even been to Israel but needs the Israeli state as a symbol of safety rather than a current reality of it) outweighs Palestinian's needs for safety.

"Being Jewish is traumatizing my friend has trauma over being bombed" that's really awful and I feel for them. I also feel for the thousands of children with amputated limbs because Israel is bombing them. Right now. As I type this.

"Jewish people have been displaced for generations we lost our homes" yes and that's extremely traumatizing, everyone deserves to have a home and to feel truly safe and like they belong there. Millions of Palestinian's who made new homes after their real ones were stollen are now living in tents that are still being bombed and shot at.

It's absolutely not that Jewish people's safety shouldn't be a priority or that it's at all okay to pretend that being Jewish is what gives any Israeli their privileges or to equivalate Jewishness to oppressiveness.

It's not even to say that Israel's existence as a colonial project is uniquely evil or that the US is exempt from that same scrutiny (like all the white americans parroting "the only good colonizer is a dead colonizer" without a hint of self awareness)

It's that a nation built on the blood of another's will never truly be stable or safe for anyone. You can stall the violence but it will return eventually and even the most oppressed people Will Fight Back.

I will add to this to any fellow goyim though that whilst you fight for Palestine you should also be fighting to create safe places and communities for Jewish people where you live. The only way to combat the rhetoric that only Israel is safe (when it never has been and never will be) is to prove that there's safety and community to be found elsewhere.

It's important to listen to Jewish people and to take their fears into genuine consideration and act on that. What is never okay is allowing their fears to thrive at the expense of Palestinian lives.

#lmk if saying g0y1m is ok for me i assume its ok but I could be wrong abt that im not the best with vocabulary

[jaskierx]

people fundamentally misunderstanding what abuse even is all for the sake of arguing about fictional characters and being an abuse apologiser kind of actually drives me crazy like. real people get abused. and these idiots who do this are going to end up repeating violent rhetoric that will be harmful and actively put people in danger by normalising something like "you can't be abused if you fight back against your abuser because that's also abuse" or "abuse is when someone physically larger physically hurts someone who is smaller" or something. ("abuse is when the scary brown man hurts the defenseless small white man")

like 😭? ed holds a certain degree of authority over izzy as his captain and someone izzy projects his own fantasies onto, but izzy holds an IMMENSE amount of power over ed, and has for a while and maybe even ALWAYS has been building it up, and that fantasy plays into it. abuse occurs when someone holds power over another person and misuses that power and causes them harm, even if that person is "unaware" they're doing it... it's not complex and it's nothing to do with what's "typical", a parent can abuse their offspring, an adult child can abuse their parent. it's about the power dynamic. their relationship is incredibly imbalanced and it's always been in IZZY'S favour, his role is LITERALLY meant to liken to like an evil advisor whispering in ed's ear – an imbalanced, toxic dynamic where ed is the victim with false control over the situation, because the entire point is izzy wants him to be The Best He Can Be (a ruthless pirate).

izzy eventually getting hurt physically in retaliation isn't ABUSE because ed isn't enacting what little authority he does have over izzy (who allows him to have it as izzy finds perverse joy in SEEING ed use that authority against him and Be the fantasy he wants ed to be), he's just fucking retaliating to being taunted by someone who hates him. izzy got physically hurt, sure, but he was not ever scared of or threatened by ed, ed did not hold any further power over him other than the fear in any man's mind who knew they fucked around and found out and got fucking shot for it.

when ed severed their connection with that bullet he severed izzy's hold over him to a vast degree, but that still doesn't mean he then held an equal amount of power over izzy in his place. and ed even had the insane heart to actually feel bad about hurting him and forgive him for everything else 😭. izzy literally acknowledges this IN THE SHOW. it's actually concerning the lengths people will go to defend an aspect of a character that is written in the damn script (izzy is a toxic manipulative cunt who wants to control everything ed does who eventually stops doing that because he knows he went too far).

anyway. sorry for that. good morning ^_^

good morning anon you are correct and you should say it

it absolutely baffles me like how the fuck are you going to be so committed to banging a drum for your shitty fave that you end up posting stuff with real world implications about who can and cannot be a victim of abuse

like even without the nonsense the take was full of headcanon and weird analogies anyway (like it's useless to compare being a pirate captain to owning a house. those are fundamentally different things. turns out piracy doesn't neatly map onto 'normal' life today. who knew!)

but the lengths that people will go to to declare that izzy did nothing wrong after the show has looked them in the eyes and said 'the narrative is telling you that izzy was wrong'??

i'm so glad they killed him off bc i cannot cope with another season of shit like this. i patiently await their exit from the fandom tbh

#asks #anon #fandom critical #the izcourse #i'm so fucking tired

[rileys-battlecats]

Man,

Wrentail's character is just something I love, he is horrible in a very mundane, unfeeling, callous way.

He looks at Mudpaw, a cat that is only still alive because Wrentail decided to save him as a kit, and is just like "kid's a pussy (pun intended), let me toughen him up." and puts him through horrible training without feeling anything. Yet at the same time it doesn't seem like Wrentail is out to make Mudpaw's life horrible or is targeting him, it's just that this is the only teaching method he knows. He is callous and doesn't seem to know or care about how this is affecting Mudpaw.

At the same time, when push comes to shove, he clearly has a basic sense of right and wrong. Not letting a kit die isn't exactly a exceptional test of morality, but it shows that Wrentail knows doing so would be wrong, same with saving Mudpaw from falling. He does both without hesitation or ulterior motive. Wrentail isn't evil or deranged, but he can ignore his own conscience when it suits him.

Also, love his design, the contrast between his colorful pelt and permanent grumpiness speaks to me. WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST MAKE HIM A BROWN TABBY LIKE EVERY OTHER BAD CAT IN WARRIORS!!! Now I'm invested :(

YES THIS. He is a very mundane evil. Not mundane in that his abuse was unremarkable, not at all, but mundane in a way that is just... the way some people are. I've said it before on this blog, but I try to portray Wrentail in a realistic way. I don't want him to be cartoonishly evil, because real people aren't like that. Real people have multiple sides to them, and they can be terrible and abusive while also doing good deeds in other areas. This most certainly doesn't absolve them of the terrible things they've done, but it can muddy the water if you're only looking for someone who is pure evil. That's why I portray Wrentail doing good things as well; real abusers hardly ever seem like abusers from the outside.

tbh I've gotten a few comments on the youtube videos that have mistaken these good deeds as a form of redemption for wrentail. This is absolutely not the case. Wrentail's good deeds do not cancel out his bad ones. Him saving Mudpaw at the falls? Sure, Mudpaw instigated the fight but wrentail is the adult here; as a fully grown warrior, he should be fully capable of handling an out of control apprentice. Real teachers have to handle situations with students who are being violent, and they absolutely are not allowed to allow students to harm others or themselves (source: several college classes on classroom management and personal experience in classrooms). It was the bare minimum that he pull mudpaw up from the falls. And he did! He did it without hesitation! But that hardly means he's a shining beacon of moral good. Saving Mudpaw as a kitten? Literally it would have been illegal if he didn't. Once again, he shows a bit of emotion in the situation, he's swayed by a tiny kitten being in need, but it's still the bare minimum of what he should do for that kit.

Doing these things was good, to be sure. He's saved mudpaw's life twice. But it is absolutely not a reflection of him "secretly being a good person" or whatever. anyway I know those sorts of comments are likely made by people who don't have as much life experience or are just on the younger side, but it's kinda disheartening to see people misinterpreting those actions as me saying "oh actually he was secretly a good guy!" when that couldn't be further from the truth of what I'm trying to say. Black and white morality doesn't work here, good actions do not always equal good person.

And just because he's chosen to be harmful and abusive to Mudpaw, doesn't mean he's pure, abject evil. Wrentail wouldn't go out of his way to hurt Mudpaw if he weren't his mentor. It just so happens that he was put into that position of authority over this specific cat he had something against, and because he could hurt mudpaw, he did. He had the opportunity, and he took it. He could have just as easily asked for Larkstar to assign Mudpaw to another warrior, but he didn't, because it gave him the excuse and the room to hurt someone he thought deserved it.

Man, I really love the concept behind the designs I made for Wrentail and Mudpaw specifically. Wrentail isn't supposed to look evil, that's the point! He blends in with normal clan society. I specifically altered their designs after a while, making Wrentail softer and more rounded and Mudpaw angular and sharp-edged, to reflect the other characters' impressions of them. It is really funny though how many evil wc characters are big dark brown tabbies HAHA

#ask #mudpaw #wrentail #mudlore #this is an essay and a half sorry #I just have a lot to say about the portrayal of Wrentail's whole.... deal #he's the worst but he's the worst in a nuanced way #also sorry about the mini rant in the middle there about people misinterpreting things in the yt comments #those sorts of comments are very very few they just stick in my head #and I never wanna come at someone in the comments for how they interpret the video you know? #it's visual story telling it's MADE for interpretation #but some interpretations are uh. misinformed. to say the least

[qqueenofhades]

Ok I seriously hope you don’t take this as bad faith but I’d like to genuinely understand this, and I’m not even sure if I’m articulating this thought well, but I don’t understand why it’s not also considered inhumane to allow a ton more people into a system so broken that it can’t even support the poorest that are in that nation…? I understand it’s important to hella reform immigration and that’s in the works, and that these people are fleeing far worse conditions, but I also feel like the rich are just looking to make yet another slave class out of these desperate people. Is it yet again a case of multiple broken systems in a trench coat? If so, I’d like to know the most prominent areas so I can try to start fighting it (the rights abuses, not the immigration)

Okay, but I'm not entirely sure what your point here is. It sounds like "we shouldn't allow immigrants into America until we can help every American first," which is probably not what you mean, but still. Yes, America as a culture, society, and economy has many, MANY problems. Nobody is denying or disputing that. But it is also literally a nation built on immigrants, and why is it "inhumane" to let them come here when they are so desperate to reach it that they will risk their lives in any number of ways...? Is it just that you're afraid you aren't being Socially Aware Enough on any particular economic or social issue, and need to find something else to worry about?

People come to America, or want to come to America, for many reasons. They are being persecuted, or their country is politically unstable, or they have few job opportunities, or they have family here, or whatever. They are not coming here because they're being passively manipulated "by the rich to make another slave class." The way we treat them can often be disgraceful (see: Ron DeSantis and Greg Abbott), but there are also many, many communities and resources for welcome and support. Immigrants can often get jobs and save money. They can build new lives. This is something we should welcome, and because the right wing in America, with all its racism and xenophobia, has so long dominated the immigration debate as "scary brown people," this is long, LONG overdue.

Any strategy that wants to reduce "illegal immigration" must offer valid and safe pathways for legal immigration. That's why the UK is in the middle of such a clusterfuck: the hardline Tories who want nobody to move to Britain ever are trying to stop the small boat crossings across the Channel by being even more cartoonishly evil and deliberately unhelpful to the poor souls who do make it. They feel that if they can make a "hostile environment" (their own words) for refugees and asylum-seekers, eventually none of those irritating brown people will ever bother to try again, problem solved. Which of course, hasn't worked, not least since Britain refuses to allow any pathways for safe and legal immigration/resettlement from unsettled and/or third world countries. Even highly skilled workers have lots of trouble getting a UK settlement visa these days, so your average refugee/economic migrant? Forget it.

Because Biden is allowing generous quotas of legal migrants, that cuts down on the chaos and brutality of people-traffickers and other criminal enterprises who make their money by extorting desperate people who have no other option. Also, lest we forget, we are less than four years removed from the Trump policy of tearing children away from their families and putting them in literal cages, under the same "make it so bad for them that they'll stop coming!" fetish for institutional cruelty that drives the Tories.

There is also an additional moral responsibility for former empires to be open to immigration, given that they built their political systems' wealth and power by moving to OTHER people's countries and invading, exploiting, and enslaving them. Now when the descendants of those people want to come to your country in turn, the racist white conservative pearl-clutching is both depressing and predictable. But yes, let's not read people making the choice to come to America, for one reason or another, as either an attempt to siphon overstretched resources from Real Americans, or as helpless dupes manipulated by the capitalist class to just live more lives of drudgery and misery. They are real people making real choices, and the fact that they're still so eager to come to America, even with all its problems, is something that should be supported, in a sustainable way, as much as possible.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[ohwynne]

TIMING: Current. PARTIES: Wynne & Mealla (NPB) LOCATION: Saol eile SUMMARY: A banshee invites a wandering Wynne over to tea and speaks of their impending sacrifice. It brings up memories. WARNINGS: Hints at abuse (cult), medical blood (vein mentions)

"You know, I have seen many people die. Have you ever? Seen the light leave their eyes, I mean. I have seen it often. Sometimes it’s almost peaceful, like our sisters in our pit who are giving themselves over to a slow death — but most often there’s something sharp in their eyes. Emotion! Oh, I cannot help but wonder what your eyes will portray. Fear or anger? Relief? Peace? I so love it when they look peaceful."

Every day Wynne woke from nightmares. The improvised beds were not comfortable, nor was the stench of death in the air but at the end of the day it was the lack of Ariadne that made them sleep most fitfully. It seemed they had grown too dependent on her ability to siphon away bad dreams and now they were left to play catch up on all the ones they’d evaded over the past months. 

So every day they woke from nightmares.

Most of the time they dreamed of home. The estate on the shore of Moosehead lake would merge with the estate the banshees called home merged with the barn. Irish lilts came from the mouths of their former loved ones. Their parents lived in white cottages and showed their fangs, ready to sink them in their neck. Nora’s head was ripped off clean. Wynne could not stop screaming. Regan rose in the air with inky eyes and an echoing, berating voice. Siors held his ceremonial knife and brought it down. Iwan pleaded, begging them to stay as he was bled out on the altar. 

Every day they woke from nightmares in an attic that seemed smaller every day and so every day Wynne got out. They walked the streets of saol eile hoping that an answer would come to them, that somehow they would find a solution to the situation they had gotten themself into. That they’d have an eureka moment and finally realize how to get Nora to want to leave. The right combination of words and facial expressions, the exact way to make her fold without doing some irreparable damage. 

They were supposed to leave in one day, but it was hard to feel optimistic. Nora was angry. Elias still was a tall man with a beard destined to die. Regan was nowhere to be found. Wynne was desperate.

So they kept walking and they kept hoping for a metaphorical hole in the fence. It was good to scope the perimeter — they had known exactly where and how to run when they’d left home because they knew the place like the back of their hand. It would be good if they knew the way. It would be good —

It would be good if they succeeded. But how much luck was one person allowed? How often was someone allowed to evade fate? Wynne should have died on an altar, but didn’t. Wynne should have died in the barn, but didn’t. Wynne should die here, but didn’t want to. Was want enough? Was determination? Was bravery? They were surrounded by a people that revered death and saw human sacrifice not as a necessary evil but more like a past time. How could it be enough?

But they kept walking anyway. 

That was until someone stopped them. 

Sometimes the banshees talked to them. Wynne regressed into a former version of themself when they did, cowering and gentle and submissive. Most of the banshees looked down on them, pushed them aside after a comment or two. They weren’t nice comments, but they also weren’t particularly mean — they just were aligned with the doctrine, odd and confusing but something Wynne was trying not to think about too much. They weren’t here to investigate the banshees. They were here for the hole in the fence and to find a way to convince people to leave.

But this banshee looked at them with wide eyes that went from inky to a dark brown, taking them in. “You are perfect.” They were ready to stammer something in response. They didn’t want to know how or why they were, nor did they want to argue. The banshee took their face in their hands before they could, though. “I will make you tea.” 

They were guided into the banshee’s house where a kettle whistled merrily and the walls were lined with mounted animals and bones. The banshee sat them down on a chair (Wynne was not sure where the control of their body had gone as they let themself be guided and pushed onto the seat, but they figured it might be best to remain pliable) and ran around to gather the things needed for tea.

It took a short three minutes and then there were two steaming mugs between the pair of them, a scent of a herbal mix filling the room. A small animal bone laid at the bottom of their mug of tea. Wynne knew better than to thank the banshee, so they just nodded.

“I heard — oh, you — yes, I heard about the arrival. We get so few of you that just arrive, that are this — this perfect.” The banshee was speaking in a tone that was euphoric, hands folded around her mug. “You know, I have seen many people die. Have you ever? Seen the light leave their eyes, I mean. I have seen it often. Sometimes it’s almost peaceful, like our sisters in our pit who are giving themselves over to a slow death — but most often there’s something sharp in their eyes. Emotion! Oh, I cannot help but wonder what your eyes will portray. Fear or anger? Relief? Peace? I so love it when they look peaceful. Oh!” She moved her hand and some of the tea sloshed on the table. Wynne noted a moment too late that she was extending it. “I’m Mealla.” 

With a bit of hesitation they shook it. “Alys.” Mealla was blinking at them and they realized that she was waiting for an answer. They didn’t know what their eyes would show when they were going to die. They didn’t want to know because they weren’t going to die.

Once, they had sat like this with the real Alys. She had been one of the elders back at home, one of the people closest to Siors and one of the people that Wynne sometimes got to spend one on one time with. When they did, it was special. It was special when an elder took time out of their day for you, to dedicate their energy to you. Whenever the real Alys had spoken, Wynne had listened with such intent and concentration that it sometimes gave them a headache. 

She had spoken of how their position was an unique gift. That dying in serenity was their gift to the commune. “Wynne,” she’d said as they walked the shores of the lake, “I need you to think about that moment. About every single second of it. You need to paint it in your mind’s eye. To imagine it in detail.” She’d made Wynne hold the jute rope that would tie their hands on that inevitable day, make them feel every fiber with their fingers. One time she’d wrapped the rope around their wrists, not too tight and mostly for show. Just to make them familiar with the sensation. “I need you to try and feel it already so that when it happens, you know how to respond. A prepared person cannot be afraid. You need to be calm. You need to give yourself over to it. You can do that, can’t you?” She’d halted and turn to Wynne then. “For me? For us? I know you can.”

Mealla was still waiting for an answer. “Peaceful,” they said. “I’m ...” Your death means more than all of ours ever will. You are so special. “Honored.” 

The banshee let go of their hand and returned to her tea, seemingly not minding that she’d spilled hot water over her table. “Yes! Ah — you did well to come here. You understand, do you? You — not so short sighted as other humans, thinking death the very sad end.” She mocked a human expression of sadness. It would be comical if Wynne wasn’t so scared. “Honor! Oh,” Mealla reached for Wynne’s face again, “You will bleed so beautifully. We can make it slow so you can feel the honor all the way through. Not many get such a death! Most die in boring ways. Old bones or weak hearts or someone driving a car badly or disease. You will get to feel it!” She pinched the meat of their cheek. “Do you have any preferences on where you are punctured? I hold some sway. I can arrange this for you. I personally enjoy the thigh, it’s so supple yet so very effective. It bleeds beautifully there. And the chest! It’s a canvas for carving. My si—” Mealla forgot herself as she nearly spoke of ancient family traditions not reserved for human ears. “You will make a very beautiful corpse, Alys.”

Wynne blinked. It seemed to go in slow motion, the way their eyelids made the world go smaller until it was nothing but a strip of light and then darkness. Then light again. The banshee was still sitting there. The hand was still on their cheek. They would make a beautiful corpse. They would be bled out. Not even on an altar, this time. Not even to save their community or spare their brother. Just because.

Once, at home, Siors had sat with them. This was even more rare than sitting with Alys. Siors was their patriarch — he was elusive and when he was present, he took center stage. He had a voice you wanted to listen to and when he turned all his attention to you, it felt like you were chosen. And though Wynne knew they were chosen, it was still different when it was just Siors across from them. It was exhilarating to have his presence be purely dedicated to them and so they’d sat upright and with all their emotions carefully wound up and put away. They’d breathed serenely. Alys and Padrig had taught them well.

On that day, Siors had shown them the ceremonial knife. They had seen it before, of course. Every ritualistic sacrifice was done by this knife. It had sunk into the necks of some thirty youths before them and hundreds of animals. It was something from back in Wales. Engraved and sturdy and sharp. Sometimes they’d catch him sharpening it as he watched his community. The day he’d shown them had been about a week before their sacrifice. Every day had been filled with preparation. 

“This isn’t something to flinch at,” he’d said, turning the blade in his hand. “It is part of us.” He hadn’t asked them where they’d like to be cut, slit or punctured. There had been tradition to honor. The demon had liked his sacrifices a certain way. Siors had guided Wynne’s hand to their throat which had bobbed nervously. “Calm yourself.” It was a demand that they had listened to reflexively. He’d pressed their fingers against their pulsing artery. “There.” He made them tilt their head so the artery was more accessible. “Alys has explained it, right? How it needs to be calm. You cannot squirm, Wynne, nor cry. You remember how quiet Jac was? How good? How dutiful?” He had tilted their head towards them, thumb and index finger holding their chin softly. “I believe you can do that too. I’ll be gentle.” He had looked so sure of it that any doubt washed away. “I will be so proud.” They would make a good corpse for him. For all of them. 

And now Wynne was staring at a woman who might have made them feel certain and special and chosen, had they not ran from that duty. Had they not come here with the intention to run again. But a lot had changed since they’d looked at Siors and Alys for guidance. They stared at her and felt her hand on their cheek and did not cry. They could not squirm nor cry — they had to press their feelings into a corner of their stomach and remain calm. They could not panic. If they panicked, they’d all know something was wrong.

“The thighs. I’d prefer that. It’s better than the neck.” Their voice sounded hollow. Their ears were ringing and it wasn’t because of all the screaming they’d heard. It was the overwhelming urge to run. The even more overwhelming urge to live, despite the threats that hung over their head like an ax. But they could not give the banshee an inch of fear or reluctance. To panic was to make them aware something was wrong. Nothing was wrong. They could only know something was wrong when they were gone along with Nora, Elias and Regan. So for now they remained seated. "Anything but the neck."

Mealla smiled. “You are right. the neck lacks creativity.” She pet their cheek. “Drink your tea.” Demonstratively she took a sip of her own. The tiny clavicle she'd dropped in it made music in her mug as it hit its corners. Wynne sipped their own. It was nice. At least the tea was nice. They wanted to drink more nice tea for years and years to come, but in stead Mealla continued to speak, “Do remember to enjoy the last of your days, Alys. It is beautiful that you are so open to death, but you must also remember that there is no death without life. The weather is nice.” It was raining. The weather had been very much misty and dark, as if spring was reluctant to come around. It would be better to die on a grey day — but they didn't want to die yet. Wynne was quiet, unsure of how to form words that weren't no and please and so filled their mouth with more tea. “Enjoy the last of them. Do this for me, and I will ensure it is your thighs we cut first.” 

#solo. #ireland. #threads. #a good corpse.

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Nintendo-vember Level 4 (Part 2): Because this one had way too many pictures to make a point...

Continuation of the following post

Okay, so in addition to Dobson's own Link not really looking very familiar to the actual Nnintendo designs, I also decided to do the following. Getting a bit into hair sperging, I pulled out this little chart for hair color.

Now, to compare it with the Link designs predominant before OoT came out.

So we got Link from the first Zelda being somewhere between light blond and blond, Zelda 2 Link being dark blond and SNES and Gameboy era Link (who are the same and as such the favorite incarnation of Link gamewise according to Dobson) at Light Blond.

Where could dark brown haired Link come from?

Oh, right! The Douchebag of Time.

It is just weird to me, that the hair color is something Dobson has taken such a grief with when it comes to Link. Cause in all honesty, I am not certain how such a minor design detail can affect ones enjoyment of the Zelda games that much. Anyway, to the last point

?????

Yeah okay, I admit I am not quite certain what the last panel is even supposed to be about. I think Dobson wants to criticize the fact that now multiple Links exist, instead of the Legend of Zelda series being kinda like Mario. You know, one character all the time fighting the same villain over and over, instead of there being different incarnation of the character (and others such as Zelda and Ganondorf). I should admit, that aside of the OoT/Majora’s Mask Link, I kinda assumed actually till the release of Four Swords/Wind Waker, that the Game Boy and the SNES games followed only one Link. Which even nowadays in the branched timeline continuity they still do

Which btw proves my point from earlier, that it was only post OoT the execs kinda screwed the timeline up in such a manner, we would need the TVA to fix it. Anyway, till Four Swords came out, I thought Link was really just going to be the same hero in all games, just with a different design each depending on whatever console’s technical abilities. Then the multiple incarnatins and timeline thing became the norm and… well, I don’t get what is bad about multiple Links or making it that the games are kinda their own thing/continuity in a certain manner.

For example, I can still play Wind Waker also as something of a solo game if I take the backstory of how Hyrule ended up under the sea just as a backstory on its own, instead of thinking about its context in a bigger narrative. Plus it allows programmers and people in the story development department to kinda go crazy/creative with designs for characters and locations, because they aren’t “bond” to capture the style of a previous game to the point that even slight variations would feel out of place. Like imagine doing Breath of the Wild style Ritos in Wind Waker or adapting the 2D Zelda environment of A Link to the Past without much variety into 3D. Plus I think that if we only followed one Link time and time again, his adventures would pretty much become less special over time, because him fighting Ganon then becomes more of an average Tuesday chore.

So…That was Dobson’s comic venting about what he hates about OoT. And I have to say, a lot of these complains (as I tried to explain here) are arbitrary as hell to me. Dobson essentially complaind about aesthetical choices the game made, that all things considered were kinda necessary for this franchise to make the jump not only into the 3D era of gaming, but also in the storydriven era of gaming itself.

See, I like the Zelda series, but as a fantasy series up to this point, I wouldn’t really call it the most “challenging” game storywise. Defeat an evil pig demon, save the princess, explore dungeons. That was it and kinda is still the base line appeal of those games. But even just compared to some stories we got by comparison for example on the SNES (Breath of the Wild 2, Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy 6) Zelda was not really that deep. This game may not have even been the first Zelda game with a bit more “depth” to it (Link’s Awakening was that for me with the island being revealed to cease exisisting once the Widfish awoke), but it certainly was one that fleshed the world of Hyrule out a lot and in doing so introduced multiple technical, story relevant and aesthetical aspects to the franchise, that went beyond what A Link to the Past already had done in 1991. And that game in my opinion, while great, mostly just improved on the aesthetical aspects by assuring the game looked better in 16-bits than anything on the 8-bit NES.  

To be fair though, I may also just be a bit biased here, because Ocarina of Time was an important game in my childhood I have very fond memories of. Both in context of the game, but also outside of it. But considering I am not the only one who likes it, I think it is safe to say that it is a good game. Is it the best Zelda game ever? Well, we have Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom now, so likely no. But it is certainly within the top four Zelda games and will likely stay there even the next few decades. And acting like it is total shit and its fans are “lesser” being for enjoying it, is not just contrarian, it is outright insulting. So in that regard: Fuck you Andy. May Octorocks ejaculate upon you, while the rest of the world finds enjoyment in that game.

And on that note... Happy anniversary to the Ocarina of Time. The best wishes from me for Impa, Ruto, Darunia, the Twinorvas, Ganondorf, Epona, Sheik, Zelda, Link, Navi, Sarina and all the other characters and the people behind Ocarina of Time for giving us one of the best games on the N64 and within one of the most beloved Nintendo game series ever.

May your melody be heard for 25 more years at least.

#so you are a cartoonist #andrew dobson #syac #adobsonartwork #webcomic #tom preston #adobsonsartwork #so you are andrew dobson #legend of zelda #ocarina of time #link #nintendo vember #nintendo #Youtube

[start-where-i-end]

I feel like your reasoning for which terms to avoid saying is based a lot on how they started, rather than what they currently represent. If jordan peterson's attempt at something similar is any indication, I think the general public's opinion is that modern meaning matters more than origin. A soyjack/chad meme is an image, a tool, and no more inherently evil than using a nazi's arsenal against them.

Also proposing the discontinuation of the word "based" just reminds me of that picture where the girl has to stand sadly and say "waow" despite wanting to openly agree with whatever taboo topic the other guy is condemning.

I just feel like policing language based on the origin of the words or phrases isn't as helpful as it seems. "Total facebook death" is one thing, and many people might agree and support facebook dying totally. But it seems insulting to the intelligence of others to suggest they will overlook or support slurs or hate speech just because it's between the words "total" and "death".

The twisting of media to mock the oppressors who created it can be traced back to Union Dixie, a parody of a confederate song, mocking the south and providing morale to the union. I don't think they cared very much about their enemies writing the original song, they just liked that the parody pissed them off. That's how I view the chad/soyjack meme, which I've genuinely never seen promote anything other than leftist opinions. It's also completely possible for the chad to be any nationality, it's even possible for the mocked side to bear the same blond hair and brown eyes as the original chad.

I just think your list would be better if you said "watch out for people who use these terms in these specific ways" rather than "don't use these terms for any reason or you're a bad person"

Right wing aspects of these memes go deeper than just when it comes to what the meme praises or condemns.

Using a conventionally attractive, calm, masculine man to represent a correct viewpoint and an unattractive, unmasculine, crying man to present a wrong viewpoint still cements right wing values.

Spread of the based culture created more acceptance and tolerance for harassment. I've seen it with my own eyes, how presence of more and more based people coincided with more edgelord behavior, more promotion of sexual assault and bullying. I'm going to redirect you to this post again that goes into more detail.

I genuinely don't see why you'd use a meme that originally comes from genocide propaganda. I just don't see a reason for it.

I also did not say anywhere "or you're a bad person". I just said I think you should stop using it. A couple of years ago I would have agreed with you, but I spent these couple of years being a mastodon instance admin with increasingly right wing neighbors, and I learned from experience how much these things just suck when allowed to take root.

[darrowsrising]

what is your opinion on House Raa (Atlas aside)? In some parts of the fandom they’re very popular but I agree with Darrow when he said he found them pathetic because for all their talks about duty they’re pretty spineless… they talk about the 10+ years war but they did absolutely nothing about it until the very end??

Plus they cannot come out with a decent war strategy for the life of them, from book 3 to 6 they’ve been taking shit from all sides

(Un)holy Reaper of Mars, but are they stupid!

Please check under the cut for a long ass rant as to why I am saying that. I am quite meh about them in general, I do like certain aspects and what the plot does with them.

Should be illegal to be that stupid. No wonder Octavia subjugated them like that, stupid. Their last braincell died with Romulus, stupid. How the fuck are you even allowed to live in this cutthroat universe, stupid? Stupidity isn't a victimless crime, stupid.

I would have preffered if Atlas wasn't the one to deliver judgement on them, but...they were stupid enough to make it happen, so can't be mad. That and the Rim needed to move forward, conflicts with Darrow would not have helped and change was not on the horizon. At all. There had to be something truly evil to even make Diomedes, the only saving grace, consider things.

Up to a point, I can understand why House Raa is the way it is. That point is Romulus himself. There is this pride and indoctrination that accumulates over generations and it gets people stuck. But it's unexcusable to go past that point and instead of moving with a purpose, you're just sitting in an echo chamber of fascism. And it's not morally speaking, as much as...how can you not see the trap prepared for you? How can you lack so much self-awareness?

To be completely fair, I think the only brain in the Rim Dominion is Aurae. Even the Daughters of Athena have problems on that front. But that is another discussion.

The House Raa situation is somewhat similar but opposite to that of Dancer and the Vox in the Senate. They claim something, are confident in their own power, but have no idea just how dangerous and rotten things are, while it was their job to know. And when tragedy strikes, it is unfair and evil.

I can see why their fans are fascinated by House Raa, but I cannot get people who are into these guys for their code of honour, because it's just a tad better than House Bellona's. Which does not mean much at all.

Other than that, I think their involvement in the books is a Pierce Brown thing, not a 'they did nothing' thing. He wanted them to be involved as much as it worked for his plot and not anymore. They suit the plot instead of the plot suiting them, which is not necessarily Pierce Brown's modus operandi. That is why I claim that he is a better writer when he does not have to limit himself and set-up novels in this series are weaker.

But on the other hand, I can buy the 'they may have various advantages, they are too stuck to be adaptive to warfare as it happens in real time'.

One thing that I have noticed for House Raa as a defining trait is a genuine, deliberately instilled fear. They would rather die than face what they think is dishonour. They are afraid to...grow a braincell disobey and/or dishonour. And that inhibits them more than necessary. They become insensitized, they don't care about human beings because it's human decency to do so, they just act with the moral code permitted. Even when they do disobey, it is within those limits, so they can act on it and get away with it. They kept Akari so close, his very ashes chokes them with his long lost dogmas.

Diomedes is the only one allowed to continue to serve the plot because he has genuine compassion. As you have read in Light Bringer, not much brains, however. That is because he was raised to be permissive of Golds, just like the Rim Lords were ready to accept Octavia once again in MS, for the sake of their own Color.

Not only he could not understand Cassus Belli when it hit him on the head - I did not need Darrow to underatand what Lysander was doing tbh, so Diomedes has no excuse - he was helpless with the Garter, because he put himself in that position. He did not think for one second that ot would come to that. That any Gold would do that, let alone Lysander.

There were plenty warnings, but he simply bet all on the few interactions with Lysander. And it did not take Lysander much sacrifice at all. Darrow has to do godly things to impress upon allies and foes alike and he makes it look easy. Lysander just jas to wiggle his mouth and participate in stuff. Participate.

He is also treated with gloves, because most obstacles put in his way are sort of slaps on the wrists or tests for worthiness. And his allies properly buy this stuff and Diomedes and Dido did too. Poor baby got poisoned and he still went to the Rim? What a champ!

Saving Diomedes was the only strong point, tbh, but...idk, these guys put too much price on their own lives. He was not saved with the tought that he will come back and reclaim power, no doubt about it.

It literally costs the Garter for Diomedes to understand why peace cannot be built on the compromise that keeps slavery intact. All because that is the legacy of House Raa, a code that is way beyond applicable. Honouring tradition and adapting to new winds do not have to be exclusive - see Primus of House Augustus, Virginia Augustus and her lion ring.

In my humble opinion, House Augustus rules. Always has, always will. Aesthetics, smarts, good and evil. Even Nero's limits were fascinating and believable. But the difference is that House Augustus affaires created plot oppprtunities and drove it forward. House Raa is more of a tool moved by the plot, which isn't a bad thing, but it divides the public. Then again, it's hard to impress me after Dark Age, so there is surely a me problem too.

Took an hour to write this, lol. Hope it's worth something.

#light bringer spoilers #red rising #iron gold tetralogy #house raa