#NC Protection Group

[highedgemedia]

#Gas Pipeline #north carolina #security services #ncprotectiongroup #Gas pipeline security #NC Protection Group #Oil and Gas Industry #Private Eyes Inc. #private investigator #private investigation agency

[almostgenerallyalways]

mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader Category: angst / fluff / run-on sentences Word count: 3,1k CW: language, I’ve been to Texas once okay forgive me, divorce Author’s note: this was supposed to be a holiday fic but I got stuck on it and almost abandoned it, but here it is rescued from my drafts, shoutout to all the amazing tgm fic writers your writing truly astounds me

Summary: Every year around the holidays, you hear from your ex. This year when you don’t respond, he decides to show up at your door. 

2022

Jake UT  [November 23, 2022 at 10:24 PM]

Hey stranger

Visiting my mom for Thanksgiving

How’ve you been?

You ignore the message. How you’ve been in the last twelve months is not something you feel up to discussing with him.

You spend the next weeks dealing with crisis after crisis at work, leaning into the chaos like you have been all year. Your personal life? Garbage fire. Reconfiguring your entire pump setup two weeks before going to production, because the DoC slapped an import ban on one of your key suppliers in China? You’re on top of it.

But then, the week before Christmas, another message comes in:

Jake UT  [December 17th, 2022 at 3:47 PM]

Hey

In town for the holidays

Would love to see you if you’re free

Brett welcome too, of course

A pang in your chest, but curiosity gets the better of you, so you text back:

Thanksgiving and Christmas? Judy must be thrilled.

You’ve met Jake’s mom all of one time, ten years ago, but she made a lasting impression. Fiercely protective of her only son, she’d been wary of you at first (you were, in order of importance: Too non-Texan, too vegetarian, and too focused on trying to rescue an almost-due group project for your sustainable water management class in which no one was pulling their weight).

And yet, over the Thanksgiving weekend you’d spent at Jake’s mother’s house in Colton, she’d slowly warmed up to you. You’d asked her endless questions about her job as a project manager at Austin-Bergstrom, and she’d poured you half glasses of wine (still exotic, to you, back then) at the kitchen island, shooing Jake back into the living room.

She’d even called you, after you guys broke up, to say she was sorry to hear it, and to tell you to call her up any time you needed someone to talk to. You’d tried your best to keep your voice even, not to break down in tears for the seventh time that day, and never called her again.

* * *

“Dude. Put your phone away for two minutes.”

Jake looks up apologetically at his friend, and pockets the device. “Sorry. Just expecting a text.”

Sandeep holds out his bottle of Lone Star, and Jake clinks it with his own. “It’s good to see you, man. Sorry I wasn’t around at Thanksgiving, we were visiting Jed’s family in NC. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

Jake takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid feeling like a balm to his throat. “Yeah, well. It’s been a big year, work-wise, so they owed me one. I wanted to spend some extra time with my mom.”

Bringing up his drink to toast again, Sandeep says: “Here’s to you, bud. And to getting that permanent assignment in California. At least we knew where to send our holiday card this year.”

Condensation drips down the neck of his bottle, and Jake spins it slowly in his hand, stopping himself from peeling off the label. He feels on edge, unmoored, despite this 6th Street dive bar being as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Sandeep’s got his number. “Seeing anyone else while you’re in town? I don’t know, Myers?”

Jake doesn’t look up, but feels his cheeks heat up fractionally.

His friend takes another swig of his beer. “I guess I should stop calling her Myers. You know, with the divorce and all.”

The bottle escapes Jake’s grip, and amber liquid sloshes across the table, into Sandeep’s lap. “Shit, Seresin! Grab some napkins, will you?”

* * *

 2012

 You’d always known there was an expiration date on this thing with Jake, which is why you’d been reluctant to meet his mom to begin with.

You wanted fundamentally different things. He, the Navy: Adventure, excitement, a chance to serve his country. You: Stability. A family. A place where you belonged.

Both of you: an opportunity to prove yourself.

It’s civil, as far as breakups go.

“You always knew I wanted to fly.” He says, over breakfast at Magnolia Café. There’s a hard set to his jaw that makes you soften in contrast, because of course you do, everyone who’s ever been near Jake Seresin for longer than ten minutes knows he’s always wanted to fly.

From your first date he told you about how Judy used to park him in her office at the airport when her summer childcare fell through; little Jake happily spending the day watching commercial jets taxiing and taking off in quick succession.

How her coworkers, the civilian engineers who’d stayed on after Bergstrom Air Force Base was decommissioned and commercialized, would regale him with stories about generations of F-4 Phantoms. Or the British Airways Concorde, one of only twenty of the ill-fated aircraft ever made, bringing the Queen to Austin in a little yellow hat. The Reconnaissance Air Meet bringing in the best fighter pilots from across all divisions of the military and abroad, to compete and show off their skills.

Jake would listen to them with stars in his eyes.

You pick at your migas, your appetite gone. “I know, Jake. I would never stop you.”

But you look at him, and you know your face mirrors his determination. “But I can’t come with you, Jake. I can’t start my career following you around from camp to base year to year. I’m forty-thousand dollars in debt getting this degree, and I need to follow my own plan.”

You haven’t moved in together, though Jake spends most of his nights at your tiny off-campus apartment, where you’ve made him countless cups of black coffee trying to fuel weekend study sessions. Where he would come in past midnight, back from the late shift at his part-time job at the H-E-B, and bury his face in your neck, waking you up even though you’d been asleep for hours. Where you would hold his sleeping head to your chest, his deep breathing somehow felt inside of you, and run your fingers up and down the bare skin of his back, trying to memorize him.

You’re twenty-two, you tell yourself. This is not the end of the world.

So you see him off at the front door, a box of his things clutched to his chest, and you force yourself to be strong. “You better be,” and you try to smile up at him, but you’re not sure you’re doing a convincing job, “You better be the best goddamn pilot the Navy has ever seen, Jake.”

For a second, he looks like he wants to say something, but then he just puts down the box, and pulls you into a last embrace. You sink into it, the fundamentally safe feeling of his arms around you, then make yourself pull away after a minute, pretending you don’t see the wet stains on his shirt.

Later you look at all the spaces in your apartment he is now conspicuously absent from (no dog-eared volume of Game of Thrones on the nightstand, no boots by the door), and it hits you then; the crevasse he’s left in your life. It may run deeper than you thought.

* * *

Jake had gone to Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island, then designator-specific training in Pensacola, Florida, and done his best not to think about you.

It helped that his days were intense and exhausting. It helped that, on liberty weekends, girls would flock to him and his friends in bars.

It helped to be several states away from you.

It helped to be living his dream.

* * *

There is a bit of a backslide, that first Thanksgiving after, where you both think it can’t hurt to see each other for one drink, for old time’s sake, which ends in him taking you up against the door in your new apartment, your legs wrapped around his waist because he does not have the willpower or presence of mind to figure out the way to your bedroom.

He knows it was a mistake, at about five AM the next day, when the blue light of morning starts streaming through a gap in the curtains, illuminating your tousled hair fanned out over the pillow, the steady rise and fall of your chest so familiar to him he could cry.

Untangling himself from you hurts, and he does perhaps the most cowardly thing he ever will: he sneaks out before you wake up. But next week he’s shipping out, and the thought of the same dead-end conversation over coffee made just the way he likes it is unbearable, so he makes himself walk away.

Somehow it’s worse, the second time around.

* * *

You’d met someone else, like he’d known you would. He sees the engagement announcement on Facebook, browsing on his phone between drills, and likes the post. It’s the third year he’s been away, and he’s at TOPGUN by then, so he has a lot on his mind. He has a girlfriend, even, a local: cute as a button, beats him savagely at pool.

It doesn’t fully hit him until the first time he sees you with your then-fiancé, at a little holiday reunion of college friends. He sees you with that ring on your finger, another man’s arm around your shoulders, and he gets an acute sense of the alternate reality that could’ve been his.

It feels a little like losing altitude too fast.

Your initial reception of him is understandably frosty, but you seem too genuinely happy to hold a grudge. By the third round, when he sidles up to you at the bar, you give him a quick hug, looking up at him with a smile that squeezes his heart: “I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

He nods, not quite trusting himself to speak, and pulls you back in, just for a moment, tucking your head under his chin. You smell like apple and magnolia, like nights spent with his nose pressed into your back.

You don’t invite him to the wedding, and he’s all too glad not to have to make up an excuse not to go.

* * *

Things settle, after that. Jake gets deployed and reassigned, breaks up with his girlfriend and eventually gets another. You get promoted to senior engineer, then project lead. You see each other, not every year but close enough, sometimes with your husband there, sometimes without.

He braces himself for the next Facebook post; that you’re pregnant, but it never comes. Over time, even that seems to lose some of its potential emotional impact on him.  

Until three weeks ago, when you don’t text him back.

* * *

 2022

 You kick your shoes off in the entryway, then head into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Before you can reach the tap, the doorbell rings, and for a second you think somehow, some way, your terrible Bumble date has followed you home.

Grabbing the biggest kitchen knife you own off the magnet strip over the sink, just in case, you creep back to the door, barefoot, to press your face up to the peephole.

You don’t really expect to see the guy you just left, the ice in your glass not even melted before you were thinking up excuses to get out of there, but you sure as fuck don’t expect to see Jake either.

The door feels heavier than usual as you slowly slide it open, or maybe you’re just a little stunned. The night air hits your skin, and you can make out the sound of dogs barking in the distance.

For a long moment, Jake just looks at you, but then he says: “What were you planning on doing with that, sweetheart?”

You follow the jut of his chin down the line of your arm, and contemplate the knife for a second, Jake’s sudden appearance having made you forget all about it.

“I thought someone might have followed me here.”

“Ah.” He says, a spark in his eyes, clearly suppressing a smile. “If you were going to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, a knife is a terrible choice. I could give you some tips, though.”

Putting the damn thing down on your entryway console, you turn back to look at him. It’s not cold, exactly, in December in South Central Austin, but he looks underdressed: a long-sleeved light grey t-shirt, hands shoved in the pockets of a faded pair of jeans.

He looks good, you can’t deny it: he’s always had an immediate effect on you.

Jake, your somewhat gangly, sweet college boyfriend had it. Jake, ten years of military training later: older, filled out, fine crinkly lines starting to appear at the corners of his eyes (helped along by the California sun and God knows what far-off places), irrevocably still does.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

At that, his expression sobers, and he looks at you for a long moment before he says:

“You didn’t tell me.”

* * *

Fucking Sandeep, you think, rubbing the back of your hand across your eyes, because that fucker has not been subtle with the hints lately, tutting like a Victorian matron while you pass the time evaluating your Bumble matches with his husband during Monday night football’s ad breaks.

The granite of your kitchen countertop feels reassuringly cool beneath your thighs, and you take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the tile below:

“I wasn’t ready.”

Jake huffs, or so you assume by the little sound that escapes him, as you determinedly face only his sneakers: “It’s been a year. You sure told everyone else we know.”

That makes your head snap up, emotion rising in your chest in a way you don’t like, have always had to tamp down when it comes to him, these last ten years. “Fuck off, Jake. You know it’s different when it comes to you.”

He leans back against the fridge, arms folded, just slightly lifting his right eyebrow at you in that irritating way of his: “I could’ve been there for you.”

Fuck it, you think, all cards on the table then. “I was heartbroken, and embarrassed, and trying to figure out how to exist on my own again after being married for five years to someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, Jake. Sorry my first impulse wasn’t to come cry on my hometown hero ex-boyfriend’s shoulder.”

His eyes soften, and he pushes off the fridge to come stand next to you, running his fingers over the edge of the countertop. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter than a moment ago. “I’m being a dick. It’s just, you have to know, I would’ve been there for you.”

He pauses for a second, takes a deep breath: “It’s always been different when it comes to you too, sweetheart.”

You start to shake, a little, or maybe it’s your imagination. But your voice wavers as you say his name, everything about your tone a warning: “Jake.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head: “Our timing sucked, and I don’t regret our decision from back then. I’m proud of who I’ve become in the last ten years, and I’m proud of you. You think I don’t keep up with what you’re doing? The articles you’ve published?”

This stuns you, momentarily. “No, Jake Seresin. If I’m completely honest, I didn’t think you gave a shit about the latest advances in Texas drought management.”

Just being near him, the familiar smell of him bringing up memories you’ve had years to unsuccessfully repress, is overpowering.

He makes it worse by turning to you, face so goddamn heartbreakingly earnest as he says: “I couldn’t give you what you deserved, ten years ago, but I always told myself, if I was ever in a position to…” He swallows. “I tried to forget about it when you got married, I tried to root for you and Brett, I swear.”

His hand settles next to your thigh, not quite touching, and your hand comes down on its own accord to cover his. He straightens almost imperceptibly, uses his other palm to wipe a tear that’s made its way down your cheek.

Cupping your face, he draws a deep breath. “I have a permanent assignment now, in San Diego. I know it’s…”

“Jake.” You interrupt, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I’m not remotely the same person I was back then.”

He moves to stand in front of you now, and you draw him in between your thighs. Suddenly it seems imperative that you feel him, that he holds you.

Dipping his head to yours, you can hear the smile in his voice, watery, tentative: “Then let me get to know you again. Get to know me again.” He leans one hand on the counter, the other tracing your cheekbone. “No pressure. I’m totally very cool about this. Whatever you want.”

You laugh, a little choked up through tears, but genuine. It feels liberating. “What if I say yes? How does this work?”

His smile broadens, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he’s so goddamn close, nudging your nose with his. “Come visit me, for a start. I’ll show you the sights.”

You draw him in a little closer still, legs wrapping around his waist, one hand finding its way into his close-cropped hair, and you could cry for how familiar he still feels after all these years.

But when you close the gap between your lips and his, it’s like coming home and yet not at all: he’s different and rougher and sharper and it floods you with emotion, something big and terrifying and old and new.

He leans into the kiss, grinning, cards his fingers through your hair before he moves to cover your chin, your brow, the space next to your ear with kisses, and you remember this with a jolt to your heart – how singularly intense it is to be the focus of Jake Seresin, like the strength of the sun is aimed at you, how he never does anything by halves.

You take his chin in your hand, kiss him again for good measure, before saying, into the stubble of his jaw: “One visit. No pressure.”

The grin he gives you in return could power half this city: “One visit. No pressure.”

He dips his head to yours again, kissing the skin behind your ear as he tells you: “Southern California has a lot of drought problems, you know. I’ve actually been reading some really scary articles about it.”

.

.

.

i hope you enjoyed :):) - if you liked this I hope you’ll check out some of my other work:

where the wild things are (rooster x reader)

cross my heart (hangman x reader) masterlist

#tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick fic #why am i like this i stg

[amnhnyc]

Have you ever looked up at the sky to see a view like this? When masses of Starlings (genus Sturnidae) fly in sync, this phenomenon is known as a murmuration. Wonder why these birds do this? Flying in a group of hundreds, sometimes even thousands, provides protection against predators: The mass can be daunting for a falcon who’s trying to snatch a single target from the quick-moving crowd. To stay in a tight formation, each starling is in tune with the motions of seven of its surrounding neighbors. Doing so allows each bird to respond to the fluid movements of the overall cohort, as there’s no single bird leading the flock.

Photo: Damien Walmsley, CC BY-NC 2.0, flickr

#science #nature #natural history #animals #birds #ornithology #did you know #fact of the day #starlings #murmuration #fun facts

[siriusleee]

i. hidden caches

Zombie Apocalypse AU | SIMON RILEY x f!READER

↳ SUMMARY: The world is trying to knit itself back together after fracturing apart. You're trying to put yourself back together with it; Simon Riley is just trying to stay alive. ↳ WORD COUNT: 2.2K ↳ TAGS: mentions of cannibalism, mentions of shooting things, mentions of dying. smut to come. canon typical violence to come. additional tags to come as the story progresses. female reader. no mentions of "your name". reader is given a nickname later on. nc-17. ↳ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the lovely anon who asked for a scene from an apocalypse au, and this idea was born. If you'd like to donate to my Ko-Fi (my bed frame broke this week and a new one was $200 I didn't have), I would appreciate it. ↳ TAG LIST: There will not be a tag list for this story, as Tumblr has issues with letting me tag people. To get notifications of updates, please subscribe on AO3 or turn on notifications for my blog.

additional chapters | ao3

The ending had come quicker than anyone expected. The epidemics and endemics and pandemics of the years past had given false confidence to everyone. We survived the last thing, the news reporters had said, gray building beneath their eyes, and we can survive this. Behind them images of towns being devoured played. 

Bodies can decompose in as little as nine days. The first to go is the soft tissue: the eyes, the tongue, the soft flesh of the cheeks. When bacteria and insects are introduced, the flesh breaks down faster. Bones take longer - sometimes years to fully wear away into the dust that collects underfoot. But these things - whatever turned them kept them covered in a thin layer of adipocere to protect them from the elements. They kept shuffling along long past the time when they should have reverted back to a primordial soup where they lay.

But they still decomposed. The trick was to stay ahead of them, away from the gnashing teeth that transmitted the virus, away from the hands and feet that never seemed to tire. So few people could. Whole towns and cities were decimated, felled beneath the hordes of horror that ambled slowly past, swallowed up by the feet that didn’t stop moving until they wore themselves down to stubs, which were them pulled forward by hands and knees that never tired. 

But yours did. The familiar path towards the north was more overgrown this year than in the past. For a few years, there had been wary companions, eyes that lingered until the snow and frost rolled in to freeze the Biters where they stood. But as the years wanned on the crowd grew smaller and smaller until you only caught hints of others moving north: horse prints, trash left behind, the occasional Biter left decomposing in the bushes. 

This year there was nothing. Either you had moved too early or there was no one left. The latter is too terrifying, so you push it away and think about whatever groups may wander through here after you.

The woods loom tall above you, the snow that fell earlier in the morning just barely dusting the branches above your head. None of it had reached the leaves that are too waterlogged from recent rains to crunch beneath your feet. A blister is rubbing itself raw at your ankle; you know that if you don’t stop to treat it, it will be unbearable tomorrow, but you brush the thought off. You need to reach the marker before nightfall.

The markers had appeared between one trip north and your trip back down. 

West Village - 20km

The first year it had appeared left the group you were with in a tizzy. The group had fractured down the middle. If all of you found each other, how hard was it to think that a larger group had finally banned together? Civilization needed to rebuild eventually.

You didn’t trust the shaky scrawl that printed the words, so you had been with the group that refused to go. The next year there was another marker tacked to the first.

Body snatchers. Beware.

It was amazing to you: how well rumors could start and spread without phones or the internet. For months, every person you and your group came across would give the same warning, and ask you all the same questions. Have you seen the body snatchers? Are you the body snatchers?

Humans turned cannabolids. Farms where people were forced to reproduce. Spits with babies roasting above the fire. You wanted to think that it was the stuff of fiction.

In the third year, there was another argument. The group cleaved in half again when the promise of civilization reared its head. Your group had divided again at the markers, disappearing into the thick woods. 

Almost no one survived the winter that year. You’d held the hands of all the dying and covered them under a thick blanket of snow before dividing their possessions up between the remainder of the group. In the end, there were just three of you. And when the winter rolled away you all broke apart, whatever ties that held you all together broken by the cold. 

The next year you were the only one in your camp. 

The markers had become a sort of prayer to you, that one day you’d meet someone else on the road - some scream and shout that there were others out there even if you were too wary to speak to them.

But it’s been two years - the crude paint of the West Village sign fading, the body snatchers warning falling to the earth unceremoniously. The wood started to rot. 

And you were utterly alone. Around you, the sound of nature getting ready for the winter fills in the ever-present silence that usually surrounds you. It’s been weeks since you’d last seen a person: a lone traveler moving in the opposite direction as you. And you’d hid from them, worried that they were the sort of feral people turned into when they were alone for too long - a body snatcher. Worried that you were that kind of feral. 

You know the markers when you approach them like your body’s memorized the number of steps it takes to reach them. Your chest thumps as you approach the spot where they should be nailed to a tree, growing taller into the air each year. Your boots falter against the wet leaves as you approach the place. 

The markers have been repainted. Or at least the West Village one has. This time it’s nailed to a post in the ground; you bend down to inspect the dirt around the post. It’s packed underneath a thick layer of loam - whoever put it up must have put it up much earlier in the year. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. You wonder if any members of your former group are still there. 

For half a second, you think about following the arrow, but before the thought can fully form in your head, you let your feet carry you forward on the path. Just ahead is the rest area you’ve always used. Your tree, one with branches high enough that the only things who can see you are the birds whose nests you disturb, erupts from the ground ahead of you.

You climb up like you were taught; throwing your rope onto the first branch you can physically reach and lash it to yourself. It’s more difficult to climb the tree with your pack and bow, but you don’t want to risk leaving it behind for anyone who may come through after you. When you reach the point where the rope reaches the tree, you pull yourself onto the branch. The blister on your ankle is screaming, but you don’t pause until your hammock is secure and your harness is wrapped around you. The cool wind cuts through the thin fabric of the hammock, but it’s not too cold as you peel back your socks to reveal an angry raw spot crawling across your ankle.

Too tired to do much more, you slide your other boot off, tying them together and then to your pack. The gentle sway of the trees makes your eyelids heavy, and you let yourself drift off into the first good night's sleep you’ve had in a while. 

The bitter cold wakes you up, the wind moving your hammock back and forth gently. The darkness spins above you, clouds backlit by the moon. Not for the first time you think about how easy it used to be, curled up with another warm body beneath the thick blankets - how easy it was to switch on the percolator in the morning and wrap your hands around a warm cup of coffee, how easy -

You press the heel of your hands into your eyes and try to press away the thoughts that are racing through your brain. Remembering the before drives people crazy; you’ve seen how it can eat people up and you refuse to let it eat at you. So you pull your thermal blanket closer around yourself and try to get some sleep.

But the sun rises earlier than you expected and extra sleep never comes. 

It doesn’t take long for you to pack what little you have back in your pack and descend back down. At the bottom you dig out the little bit of jerky you still have saved from the summer months; it’s disgusting, but it’s enough to push you forward to the next place. 

You walk the entire time with your bow in your hand, waiting for some animal to run out in front of you and meet its mark, but the forest is silent today as you push towards the next stop in your journey north, a small nameless village secluded away from the rest of civilization - just good enough to sleep in for the night. 

The sun has just started to sink below the treeline when the village finally springs into view. The blister on your ankle has popped, and you think you can feel blood rushing into your sock, but you don’t dare stop and check; you don’t want the scent of fresh blood to attract any Biters that may be hidden away for now. Your fingers cramp around the bow and your stomach growls. You’d picked a smooth rock up from the ground hours earlier and popped it into your mouth to try and trick yourself into thinking you were eating something, but it hadn’t worked. If anything it made your hunger worse.

There was salvation coming - on your second year coming through here you’d snuck off from the group and buried a cache. Each year you did your best not to touch it unless it was to refill something inside of it, but this year you knew you’d have to empty it. 

You crunch over tire tracks that crisscross over each other on the main road into the village; they’re dry enough that you know whoever managed to scrape up enough gas to drive in and out was gone, but the thought of someone driving up on you made you nervous, and make your steps quicken. If people were driving through here then you needed to be gone before sunlight tomorrow. 

Weary, you push yourself towards the back half of the village to a little two-story you know well. It had been the same house your group, and then yourself, slept in each year on your way to the north camp; in the back, beneath an overturned chair that was slowly rotting with time, your little cache was stored. 

You shoulder your way through the half-rotted back gate and freeze. The chair is tossed to the side, rusted parts puzzle pieced across the ground. And directly where your cache had been buried is a hole, smoothed over from time and rain. 

You could cry if you had any water left in you to cry. So instead you walk numbly into the house - habit making you click the lock on the door even though it’s long since stopped working. The same thick dust that was here last year is still across the floor, so thick your steps don’t even disturb it. You pass through the living area and up the steps. On the landing, you don’t pause - to the left of you is the nursery that’s always been empty. The first few times you’d stopped here the sight of the broken-down white crib and sage walls made something ache inside of you, and you’d learned not to look. It’s better to just let things alone and try to stifle your imagination.

The attic ladder swings down with ease and you test your weight on the rungs before climbing up - any broken bones and you may as well just shoot yourself where you lay. It creaks ominously beneath you but keeps as you clamber through the hole. You let yourself collapse on the floor beside the ladder after pulling it up, and wrapping a rope around the ladder to keep anyone from pulling it down in the night. All at once, hunger and exhaustion pull you down towards the floor. 

You’ll have to shoot something tomorrow and check the well for fresh water. There are still to many miles before you make it north enough to be safe for the winter, and you won’t make it without water and food. 

You try to distract yourself from the cramping of hunger and how little water is left in your jug by peeling your boots off. As you’d thought, the blister had split and bled, but thankfully your sock had caught most of it. 

You clean up the best you can in the dusty light filtering in from the little window that looks out the back garden and wonder who could have known the cache was there. An old group member who spotted you checking it in the past? Or was it a lucky guess, someone who came through after you and spotted the freshly disturbed dirt and came to the right inference?

You try to tell yourself it doesn’t matter as you pull your thermal blanket from your pack and lay down, but you can’t quite convince yourself of that lie. 

#my fics #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost cod x reader #ghost #simon riley x you #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod ghost #zombie au #simon riley zombie au

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Oh venus fly traps are very cool, they live / exist in a very (very very very very very) small area of north/south carolina (Its like a 60 mile radius of Wilmington NC) now a days its slightly larger but not really, theres a bog/swamp in florida that has a naturalized group of them but yeah the original range is the costal swamps of North/ South Carolina. Which is why they evolved to be carnivorous plants due to lack of nitrogen in the soil! They still get pollinated their flower is just like way above it! They can also become un-carnivorous if someone owns it and has too much nitrogen itll stop eating insects but still grow the traps because those functionally are like leaves, they grow new ones as needed!

They also NEED FIRE! Its the only way its seeds germinate!

Theyre also ENDANGERED! Theres roughly 300,000 (per a survey in 2019) of them in its native area. Which from the last full survey of them back in 1979 which said theres about 4,500,000 of them thats a 93% REDUCTION of their population. and the areas that it now populates only 21/70 sites they are found point towards being viable for the future.

Im just very passionate about venus fly traps, i have lots of family from north carolina so things from there are special to me. ❤️

Whawhawhaaat!!! Man, this is awesome! Thank you so much anon, I don't know much anything about venus flytraps but now I do! In my mind, venus flytraps were sort of like a fictional plant, even though I knew they were real as I've seen them for myself, they're just so... I don't know how to say it. Intangible, often talked about separately from the world we inhabit? I never knew where they actually grew, or if they're flowering plants, or that they need fire to germinate their seeds!!! Like, that's a real plant! Now that this connection to the places and ecosystems it inhabits has been established in my mind does it actually become cooler :D

How sad that they are endangered though! Must be a combination of habitat loss and perhaps overharvesting, since they are popular plants and probably popular to own too :/ I hope that there are protective measures taken to conserve this unique plant and its valuable ecosystem; coastal swamps and wetlands in general are so important! At the end of the day raising awareness is very important and that's what you did anon, thank you again :)

#asks #anon #anonymous #anonymous asks

[acourtofthought]

I was having a good conversation in a group and someone said some things that, in a way, I understand why they didn't want to.

But every Sarah couple needs to have REAL obstacles to overcome, sometimes I agree too much with a friend of mine who says that some people think they are impossible and don't really understand the quirks and things that the author likes.

And we know that Sarah goes from Hate to Love if she wants between couples, nothing is impossible for her.

The person told Elain she can't be with Lucien because he remembers the worst day of her life.

But if think about it like that, everyone involved in that day will remind her of that day, Nesta also doesn't let her forget it with her overprotection.

Nesta could hate everyone involved, whether or not it was her fault just because of the memory.

Oh, I wonder if I'm wrong in thinking that this doesn't mean that she just found a living culprit and can shift the blame, but it doesn't exactly mean that she hates him, but I think the problem is her ex-fiance who rejected her and didn't accept that she also has a fae partner and became a fae.

I think this brings anguish to the couple and that they will really have to overcome.

I don't know if my reasoning is correct, but I don't completely think that Elain blames Lucien for everything that day, but that she may not even ignore him based solely on a day that was terrible for her.

The first time Feyre met Rhys was when the three faries were sexually harassing her. The second time Feyre met Rhys was when he broke into her mind and scared her. The third time Feyre met Rhys was after she was taken to Amarantha UTM and he ended up using her in his schemes to try to save the fae from the curse. Nesta met Cassian for the first time after she spent a lifetime fearing the fae, a few months after Tamlin had broken into their home and kidnapped her sister. Feyre says she could scent the fear on both Nesta and Elain as they met the Illyrians. Yes, Lucien was there when Elain was turned and yes, she knew some of what had happened and that Tamlin had tried working with the King of Hybern but it has since been proven that Ianthe was the reason the sisters were there (not Lucien or Tamlin). It has since been proven that Tamlin was trying to play double agent to the King which did result in him being able to share important information at the High Lords meeting (which is really no different than Rhys playing double agent with Amarantha or Jurian playing double agent. They've all done it, it's only that Tamlin's did not go as planned because he was foolish and trusted Ianthe). Claiming she can't get past that after she invited him to come back to Velaris at the end of ACOWAR doesn't make a lot of sense, right? Claiming she can't get past something he didn't even directly do to her is ignoring that Feyre was able to move past multiple things Rhys specifically did to her in ACOTAR. I loved Feysands story but lets not pretend that Lucien set out to use Elain as a pawn in the same way Rhys did use Feyre. Also, Rhys acted of his own accord while Lucien felt obligated to follow along with what his High Lord wanted.....BECAUSE of the lies Rhys and Feyre had told everyone. Again...I loved Feysands story but the only reason Tamlin and Lucien allied with Hybern in the first place was because Rhys, Cassian, Az, etc. were all fine allowing others to think the worst of the NC, that they were murderers and torturers and that Feyre was in fact being harmed by Rhys (something she herself allowed Lucien to believe in ACOMAF when he found her in the woods). So if Elain is able to live with a people who tricked an entire land for centuries, causing others to fear for their lives and the lives of their loved ones only doing what they did to protect them from the NC, if she can love the brother-in-law, helping him in his own home and court, who once did what he did to her sister and and almost shattered her own mates mind, then I think she can and already has forgiven Lucien for anything that happened in the past, things that were beyond his control.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #pro elain archeron

[kess-wedoshit]

Sauna?

Pair: Sebastian Aho x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mentions of abuse, eating disorder, drinking, mild smut

Summary: You feel beyond lucky that you made such great friends moving to North Carolina, one of them being Sebastian Aho of the Carolina Hurricanes. When the whole squad gets an invite to Turbo’s cottage for the holidays, y/n’s heart is warmed by a particular Finnish teddy bear, despite the cold weather. 

Notes: My first Sebastian Aho imagine, let me know if you like it! I have continuation part I may post, I also have another piece of writing that explains the beginning aspect of the story better (taking place in North Carolina), although it is a lot darker. If you want to get to the juicy part and don’t care about the back story, skip to where it says “3 months later.” 

xx

Your relationship with Sebastian Aho was complicated to say the least. You met him a year ago while you were dating your long-time boyfriend Justin of 3 years. You moved to North Carolina from Toronto, Ontario to attend medical school, given you did not get accepted anywhere in Ontario. Justin followed you there as he would be able to find work anywhere graduating from Rotman’s School of Business from the University of Toronto. You never could have imagined moving the to US; Canada was your home and you thought it always would be. Despite learning about its terrible past, you began to have a new relationship with the country and was on your journey to understanding your place on the land being a 3rd-generation Italian settler. You immediately became very close with your roommates Daisha and Vanessa. They were both the same age as you, attending University as well. You were very studious, but also liked to party and drink a lot; your roommates liked to ALL the time. Vanessa is from NC and was friends with a few of the canes players who live in the same building: Sebastian, Seth, KK and Svech. She had already lived in your place for 2 years before you and Daisha moved in. The first time you met the boys, your roommate invited them to your place while you were asleep on the couch. When you woke up you were stunned, given you were half-naked and did not expect to have company over (especially that kind of company); you didn’t even expect to take a nap. The boys all chuckled when you greeted them, arms covering your chest as you were only wearing a tiny top with no bra, cheeks flushed and half running out of the room to find a sweater. Immediately, you and Sebastian hit it off. You both had that feeling where you could talk for hours and hours and never run out of conversation. Despite both of you being the more shy ones out of your friend groups, you both couldn’t stop the conversation. It felt like you had known him your whole life. It became known information that night that you were in a long-term relationship, and everything remained friendly, despite the twinkle in both yours and Sebastian’s eyes when you half-heartedly joked around and laughed. 

Sebastian was always protective of you and didn’t like your boyfriend Justin. Despite that, he was never rude to him and always treated him respectfully. You had always thought that Sebastian had a crush on you, and so did your roommates. You wondered why the Fin was even single, given he seemed to be the best bachelor out there in the whole state. You quickly learned that he was very shy, and just never really had the time to date around. He would go out clubbing with the boys from time to time, but he never really took any girls home; bringing a girl home from the club wasn’t his ideal way of meeting someone, knowing it likely wouldn’t lead to anything more, and that a large majority of the girls there would be drunk. Sebastian is a respectful king. Only once did you witness Sebastian bring a girl home from the club. That night you and Justin just made up from a large fight, and decided that you needed to let loose at the club. You went with your roommates, Justin, and the rest of the boys: Sebastian, KK, Jarvy, Svech and even Turbo tagged along this time. You and Justin both got extremely drunk and couldn’t keep your hands off each other on the dance floor. You were never really into PDA, but this night was something different. Everyone saw, and if you are being honest, even in the drunken state, you were able to make out the looks on your roommates, Sebastian’s and Turbo’s faces and were able to discern disappointment. None of them truly liked Justin, as they have witnessed him being mean and almost abusive to you in the past. You saw Sebastian leave with that naturally gorgeous brunette, and you couldn’t help but feel an ounce of jealousy in your drunken state. You would never admit it though, not even to yourself. 

When things blew up with Justin, Sebastian was the one that was there for you. He was there when he found you on the floor in your apartment, passed out from not eating for 2 days, just before the breakup. He was there with you in the ambulance when you woke up, extremely scared and confused from not knowing where you were. You looked around in a panic but Sebastian grabbed your hand and forced you to keep eye contact with him. “I’m here. It’s okay, you are okay. We an in the ambulance going to the hospital, they are just going to check you out. I’m not going anywhere, we are doing this together. It’s okay.”

 He was there for you when they ran tests at the hospital and not only discovered you had not eaten, but also the marks on your neck. He was there to comfort you when you broke down in the car on the way home from the hospital after being questioned about the marks on your neck. And he was there for you for weeks after everything went down. 

It was that night during the car ride home from the hospital when you realized just how much Sebastian cared for you. Seth and KK were concerned and checked in with you both at the hospital. Seth drove Sebastian’s car and dropped it off for him so he could drive you home when you were released. Seth went home with KK shortly after. You hated being vulnerable around people, and you never EVER let yourself cry in front of anyone. When Sebastian noticed you were getting emotional and staring out the window trying to hide your face, he pulled over in a parking lot to a convenience store. Sebastian immediately pulled you into his chest and that is when you broke down. He stroked your back and you held onto him so tightly. When you pulled away, your faces inches apart, you felt something was different. Seeing the hurt in Sebastian’s face made you realize how much he cared for you. Sebastian’s heart strings tugged at his chest and he realized just how cute you were when you cried with your lips swollen, cheeks flushed and the green poping out of your hazel eyes. His eyes filled with concern as he held your face and they were piercing into yours. It was almost as if he was searching for something in them, a sign that you were going to be okay. That was the moment you knew for sure.

xx 3 months later xx

It was December and this year you and your roommates were given a 2 week reading break over the holidays. They boys had a week off as well. Turbo invited all of you to his cottage back in Finland, and with a lot of convincing to your family that you would not be home for Christmas just this once. It was the whole squad (minus Svech who went back to visit his family for the holidays): you, Vanessa, Daisha and her new girlfriend, Sebastian, Seth, KK and Turbo. At this time of year, you only get one hour of daylight in Finland, and the boys, Sebastian and Turbo, were determined to give you all the best Finnish Christmas experience. 

Turbo’s cottage was giant. It had the main house which had 4 bedrooms: 1 master with a king-size bed (for Turbo to sleep in, all by himself), 2 other bedrooms with queen-sized beds and the last bedroom has 2 double bunk beds. There were also a bunch of pull-out couches and it seemed like the cottage could fit a whole hockey team. The cottage also has a guest house about 100 meters away where his sauna was also located. When you all arrived, you got settled into your rooms. It was later in the evening and you were all exhausted to have a full-on party, so you all just decided to keep it a chill night with music and a couple of drinks. You were feeling a bit buzzed after few drinks, but for the most part you were all there. One by one, everyone started to get tired and went to their rooms until it was just you and Sebastian.

Sebastian was a little buzzed himself, and gave you a very mischievous look. You questioned him, rolling your eyes with a chuckle.

Y/N: “What is it Sebby?”

Sebastian: “I’m just thinking. You never had your sauna experience yet. We always said we go to Turbo’s but never did. Why don’t we go now, and I’ll give you the FULL experience.”

Y/N: “Oh hell no. Does the full experience mean jumping into a frozen lake, because that is not happening”

Sebastian: “Oh come on... you said you wanted to make the most out of your experience here and this would be the perfect way to start it off. Everyone is sleeping and they won’t hear you scream like a little girl from that distance.”

Y/N: “Scream like a little girl? You think I can’t handle a little cold? I’m not scared, I would just prefer not to be freeze my ass off right now”

Sebastian: “Chicken”

Y/N: “OK fine. Screw it, lets do it”

Sebastian’s smile widely. 

Sebastian: “Okay let’s do it. Get into your bathing suit and bring a change of clothes. I will get you a towel”

Y/N: “Aren’t fins supposed to go commando in the sauna?”

Sebastian: “What is commando?”

Y/N: “Like....naked”

Sebastian: “You’re right. But I know you, and you would never do that. Go get your stuff”

You rolled your eyes and walked away. He was right, you would never in a million years feel confident enough to be naked in front of any of your friends, not even your roommates if you were being honest. He knew you so well. You got into your new bathing suit and realized it was a little too cheeky, but you didn’t mind because you thought it was cute. You packed a little bag with some clothes: underwear, a cropped tank top, a hoodie, sweat pants and your fuzzy socks. You didn’t know exactly what this experience would entail, but you were excited and ready for it. You left your room in just your bathing suit and Sebastian greeted you in the kitchen with his, and handed you your towel which you wrapped around yourself. You both slipped on your flip flops and you followed Sebastian out the door. The cold winder weather in Finland hit you hard, but you loved the cold. After what seemed like a 5 minute walk, you arrived at the sauna and the guest house. You dropped your bags inside the guest house that Sebastian unlocked. It was pitch dark in the guest house and you couldn’t really see inside. You both accidentally left your towels as well which you only realized later on. Once you got closer to the sauna, you could see a frozen black pool of water and ice right next to it. It had steps to go down into it. You wondered how the water did freeze over. Immediately you began to regret your decision to do this, as you already felt like you were frozen and began shivering.

Y/N: “Ok. What do we do now”

Sebastian: “Let’s get into the Sauna”

Sebastian set up the sauna and you watched him do his magic. It got hot really fast, and after 10 minutes you were both sweating.

Sebastian: “How do you like it?”

Y/N: “It feels very nice, but I’m not sure how much longer I can stay in here. It’s getting very hot”

Sebastian: “I say lets stay just a few more minutes, if you can handle it?”

You nodded and you both sat there in comfortable silence for another few minutes. After the time passed, you both exited the sauna back to the cold winter air which hit you a thousand times harder this time around due to the temperature difference from the sauna to outside. Sebastian gave you a look.

Sebastian: “Are you ready”

Y/N: “Nope. Time to go back,” you say as you start walking away.

Sebastian chuckles and bear hugs you from behind and pulls you back towards the sauna and the frozen pool. You had never been skin-on-skin with him before; he was holding you and you both were in your bathing suits.

Y/N: “But do I have to?” you ask in a whiney voice.

Sebastian said yes in a very stern voice, trying to hide his smile. He said he would go first and before you knew it, he was jumping into the pool. He screamed a little, it was the strangest noise you ever heard, and you started to laugh while you were bouncing up and down from being so cold standing outside. Sebastian stayed in for about 30 seconds before he climbed out and started yelling.

Sebastian: “okay your turn go, go, go. I’m freezing here it feels even colder when you get out. GO.”

You would have taken more time fighting your thoughts before going inside but you could see how cold Sebastian was so you you quickly walked down the ladder and once you felt the cold hit you like knives, you decided to miss the last few steps and just jumped. Sure enough, you shrieked just like Sebastian said you would, and then you went frozen. You felt like you couldn’t move your body at all or speak. Your mind went very fuzzy. Before you knew what was going on, you felt a pair of strong hands pull you out of the water. 

Sebastian screamed: “You did it!! Are you okay!??”

You nodded quickly, adrenaline rushing through you both.

Sebastian screamed: “Okay, lets go back to to the house now. Come on let’s go.”

You both started running barefoot while screaming and laughing, on your way back to the guest house. Sebastian was faster than you but slowed down his speed so he wouldn’t be too far from you. I don’t know what possessed you to do so but you picked up some of the snow off the ground and threw it at him, failing miserably as the wind caught most of it and directed it back in your face. Sebastian yelled “WHAT THE HELL,” as you both continued to laugh hysterically. You did the same thing again and Sebastian stopped and picked you up. You yelled at him to put you down and to your surprise, he obeyed. Once you got to the guest house Sebastian swung the door open and turned the single light on in the whole house. He quickly showed you where the bedroom was and he told you to wait in there while he sprinted off to search for fresh towels as you somehow lost the ones you brought. The guest house looked like an old cabin made of wood, with a giant fireplace at the back. It was gorgeous. The bedroom has a glass ceiling and you were able to see all the stars in the sky, although at the time, you were not focused on that because your ass was still FREEZING. You noticed a fake fireplace in the bedroom and you turned it on anxiously without asking Sebastian if it was okay. At that point, you didn’t really care. Sebastian quickly ran inside the room with a bunch of giant towels and he immediately wrapped one around you and embraced you in his arms while he quickly rubbed them up and down your body. His warmth combined with the one from the fake fireplace felt so good

Y/N: “Sebby what about you!? Get your towel!”

Sebastian: “Oh yes!”

Sebastian was so focused on making sure you got warm and that mixed with the adrenaline he forgot to wrap a towel around himself as well. He quickly did as such and held you in his arms again. You both were jumping up and down a little until you were getting warmer and warmer.

Y/N: “That was crazyyyyyy. I can’t believe we just did that” you say while laughing.

Sebastian: “Welcome to Finland,” he says while kissing your forehead.

You pull away from him and you both smile wide at each other. All he could think about is how cute you look with your hair wet and no makeup on. Gosh you were so beautiful and it always drove him nuts. He always knew he loved you, but was always forced to hide his feelings. Even after you broke up with Justin, he was too scared to make a move too soon after and it would kill him if he ever destroyed the friendship you both had. You were his person, and he was yours. 

You look at Sebastian with a quizzical look.

Y/N: “What is it?”

Sebastian was so lost staring at you in his thoughts that he didn’t realize that the smile disappeared from his face and that he was looking at you with a very serious expression. Sebastian took a couple of seconds before he could answer.

Sebastian: “You’re just so beautiful”

You roll your eyes and chuckle.

Y/N: “Oh yea, I’m sure I look sooooooo beautiful right now” you say sarcastically as you pick up a strand of your wet, frozen hair. You shake your head and continue to laugh. Sebastian knew you weren’t looking for reassurance, and that you truly didn’t know just how beautiful you were. That is what he always loved about you. He always thought you were one of the most gorgeous girls he ever laid eyes on, he knew others recognized how adorable you were too, and yet you didn’t believe it. Sebastian’s face got even more serious.

Sebastian: “I mean it. You are so beautiful and it drives me crazy.”

Your expression dropped and you soon matched Sebastian’s serious look. Your mind was racing a mile a minute. Could this be it? Is something happening right now between the both of you? He was your best friend, and although you always knew there was something a little more, you thought there was a mutual, unspoken agreement that you both wouldn’t cross that line in order to preserve the friendship. You don’t know where this spike of courage came from, maybe it was from the cold and all the adrenaline, but you took a step back and dropped your towel on the ground. The way Sebastian was looking at your body gave you the confidence to do what you were going to do next. You stepped closer to him once again and asked, “can I kiss you?.”

Before you could barely finish the sentence Sebastian’s lips connected with yours. You both kissed very slowly and in sync. Sparks were flying. You pulled away and you saw the scared look in Sebastian’s eyes. You step back once again, Sebastian watching you very carefully. You slowly untie your bikini top and let it drop to the ground, right where your towel is. Sebastian couldn’t help but stare at your breasts; he was speechless. His cheeks flushed a different shade of red you had never seen on him before, the redness even more prominent than it was earlier from the cold outside. His heart started beating a mile a minute. You quickly grabbed him and started kissing him again, this time at a faster pace. Sebastian picked you up and your wrapped your legs around his torso. He sat down on the bed, with you straddling him and the make out session continued. Things progressed very fast and before you knew it you were both completely naked, lying down on the bed while Sebastian searched the entire guest house for a condom. Of course there were plenty in the en-suite bathroom. Go Turbo. The only words spoken to each other throughout this entire time was Sebastian asking you if you were sure you wanted it and you responded with a “yes.”

The sex was magical. You lay on stop of Sebastian and you could hear his heartbeat. Neither of you have said a thing for over 15 minutes. You break the silence with the most random question, without even commenting on the events that just happened, and purposely avoiding the fact that your friendship would likely never go back to the way it was.

Y/N: “Do you think Turbo has any hot chocolate mix in here?”

Sebastian did his cute thinking face and says: “I don’t know, but I could really go for some hot chocolate. We can go check.”

You slowly get off of Sebastian and search for the clothes in your bag. The guest house was heated up at this point and you didn’t even notice that Sebastian started the fire in the main room when you first ran in before bringing the towels. You were amazed as to how fast that happened. You decide just to put on your cute underwear which was a little cheeky, you cropped tank top and your fuzzy socks. Weird attire, but it was comfy, and you though you looked cute and sexy in them at the same time, a feeling that didn’t come to you so easy. Sebastian said he needed to clean up in the bathroom and told you to search the kitchen.

When you got to the kitchen you easily found hot chocolate mix, to your surprise. You opened a bunch of drawers while searching for mugs. Of course they were in the top drawer that your 5′3 frame was struggling to reach. You stood on you tippy toes and were very determined to reach the mugs. You didn’t even notice Sebastian walk in, and weren’t sure as to how long he was staring at you with his soft smile, like you were his entire world. He thought you looked so cute being so short and standing on your tippy toes. He felt bad that he was enjoying watching you struggle, but he couldn’t help it. Your ass looked so great in those tiny underwear. Your belly exposed from the cropped tank top was adorable and sexy at the same time.

Y/N: “How long have you been standing there? Can I please get some help here,” you say trying to sound annoyed in a joking way.

Sebastian: “It’s fun watching you struggle.”

You roll your eyes.

Y/N: “Shut up Sebby, please help.”

Sebastian: “Anything for you.”  

#sebastian aho #sebastian aho imagine #sebastian aho fanfiction #sebastian aho x reader #teuvo teräväinen #nhl imagine

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

There is nothing wrong with being mindful of your own personal safety.

We all have a right to feel uncomfortable, and to act accordingly. It’s okay to cross the road to avoid others, I do this myself.

So too we should all be mindful of how we can make others feel safer when walking home at night – this is just basic common decency.

But what isn’t okay; is to fear monger, vilify and create a cultural panic around ‘men’ as a group.

To talk about men as if they’re monsters forever lurking the shadows; comparing experiences with men to walking through a room of snakes, or swimming in a shark tank, and yes, eating from a bowl of poisoned M&Ms.

This is not advocacy. This is ignorance, and hate.

Neither do such thought experiments help women ‘feel safe’ either. In fact, such terrifying analogies will likely make them feel the opposite.

Neither do you get to tell men (who are at a significantly higher risk), that they can walk the streets at whatever time they like, without fear or consequence – under the protective shield of so called ‘male privilege’.

Walking home at night is not an opportunity for you to inject your bigoted political ideas around men, or stoke fear and division.

I am tired of it.

I am tired of the endless pearl clutching.

I am tired of seeing the conversation of violent crime centred on highly privileged millionaire celebrity women, who are not at risk, and taken away from those who are – which is young, inner city, working class black boys.

I am tired of the conversation making no effort to understand what shapes violent crime, or how to reduce it, to instead fan the flames of a gender war.

I am tired of seeing tragic stories hijacked for political ends, to become yet another bludgeon to hit ‘yes all men’ with.

It is boring. It is divisive. And most of all, it doesn’t achieve anything.

So let’s look at the numbers, for a more reasonable and evidence based insight into violent crime.

--

Sources:

[1] https://tinyurl.com/5ah8vw34

[2] https://ucr.fbi.gov/crime-in-the-u.s/2019/crime-in-the-u.s.-2019/topic-pages/tables/table-39

[3] https://www2.census.gov/programs-surveys/popest/tables/2010-2019/national/asrh/nc-est2019-agesex.xlsx

[4] https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/crimeandjustice/articles/homicideinenglandandwales/march2022

[5] https://www.researchgate.net/publication/31065232_Gender_motivation_and_the_accomplishment_of_street_robbery_in_the_United_Kingdom

==

Xians will thank their god for everything good in their lives, but are pathologically incapable of blaming it for the bad things that happen. It's either "free will" or "Satan" or some other excuse. This is hypocritical.

If you blame men as a category for violent crime, then you can also give credit to men as a category for the decline of violent crime over the years. To not do so would also be hypocritical.

Or you just blame the extreme minority who are actually responsible.

And if you're still like, nope, changes nothing, then okay. But just do one thing for me. Type: "I'm justified crossing the road when I encounter..." Then go look up violent crime by race, pro rata it, and see how you feel about finishing that sentence. I dare you. If one would make you feel racist about making assumptions about and blaming all members of one group, then the other should also make you feel sexist about making assumptions about and blaming all members of another group.

In fact, such terrifying analogies will likely make them feel the opposite.

This is, of course, a feature not a bug. Women's fear is a valuable political and ideological commodity.

"... as we know from the war on drugs and the war on terror, for those in the business of providing protection, high threat levels are bread and butter. Likewise, for those in the business of healing race relations, racial division is your sworn enemy but your secret friend—so much so that wounding and healing become part of the same operation." -- Lyell Asher, "Why Colleges Are Becoming Cults."

The same thing applies here. The point of stupid analogies and stories is the same as the threat of hell: to control and manipulate, to gain authority by building dependence through fostering fear.

When someone is encouraging you to be afraid, stop for a moment and ask yourself, why. What do they get out of it?

#The Tin Men #violent crime #misandry #gynocentrism #gynocentric #stranger violence #religion is a mental illness

[typhlonectes]

Have you ever seen aquatic (water-dwelling) turtles sitting out in the sun (basking) together in a group?

Maybe even stacked on top of one another? Why do aquatic turtles, like these Rio Grande cooters, bask in groups?

Aquatic turtles routinely haul out of the water and bask in the sun to get warm. When there aren’t enough suitable basking spots, turtles tend to group together. Simple enough. But is that the only reason? It’s not completely clear. Preliminary research suggests that when there are more turtles at a basking spot, they may be able to detect predators from farther away. More eyes can be a good thing. Rio Grande cooters are what we might call “habitual baskers,” meaning they bask a lot, and they’re commonly seen in groups. These medium to large turtles (usually around 10 inches long) sun themselves on river banks, logs, and other vegetation. They’re shy, though, and will quickly slip into the water when disturbed. Whether in groups or on their own, ARC protects these turtles throughout the US portion of their range in Texas and New Mexico. Grouping together with our supporters enables us to conserve Rio Grande cooters, other reptiles, and amphibians across the US. Stay in the loop about this work for vitally important yet often overlooked species by subscribing to our e-newsletter, The ARC’ives. Visit ARCProtects.org, and scroll to the bottom. Photo: © Laura Keene, CC-BY-NC

via: Amphibian and Reptile Conservancy

#turtle #animal behavior #turtles #reptile #herpetology #cooter #animals #nature #north america #aquatic #rivers #texas

[koddyroddy]

DFF Episode 7 Thoughts (Part 1)

Time to go where angels fear to tread--

As I watched episode 7, I couldn't help but wonder at the depiction of Non and Keng's relationship to the point where I immediately looked up the age of consent in Thailand once the episode ended.

I kept wondering why Keng wasn't trying to flee the country (or just hide from the police/get a lawyer) when the video leaked instead of comforting Non openly at the tutoring school. Add to this the changing musical cues when they are around each other (at times sinister and at other times much less so), plus the way they filmed the NC scene between them. Was the show depicting the dynamic of an adult with a young adult or of an adult with a minor? Given people's reactions, I'm sensing some disagreement on this question.

In Thailand, the age of consent is 15 years old, according to the ECPAT, a group which fights child sexual exploitation. There may be additional laws protecting those age 15-17, but I get different descriptions of these restrictions from different sources online. With Non being in 11th grade, I assume he's at least 16 or 17 years old but not 18.

Two thoughts:

First, regardless of whether Non is of consenting age, the show clearly depicts a grown-ass adult taking advantage of a youth who is in a very vulnerable position, helping said youth in return for sexual favors. Period. End of story.

Second, I recognize there may be additional nuance to their dynamic that I do not fully understand as an international fan who was not raised in Thailand. I sense there are layers here that I don't have clarity on and want to know more before making assumptions about what's really going on in Non's head this episode.

So in the end I'm still gathering my thoughts. Please feel free to share your own.

#dead friend forever #dff the series #dff #be on cloud #dff spoilers #dead friend forever the series

[miss0atae]

Random thoughts about Playboyy the series ep 12:

This episode was so much easier to watch than the previous one. I don't know if it's the editing or the pacing but I appreciated it more.

▪️First and Soong are back together and they want to take care and stay with each other. Some people complain about them speaking English to each other while they are supposed to both speak Thai but I find it endearing because I used to do the same thing before with my previous partner (granted, we never were fluent in the language of the other one). We may have sounded funny as them. Anyway, I'm glad they are happy because they were the first couple I was rooted for. They deserve each other. I don't think anyone else could handle First. He is a real handful. Only Soong seems to be able to bring the best of him.

▪️Zouey and Nont were still investigating. The found the name of a Hotel where Nant may have come. They went over there and got some Intel from the front desk lady in an unconventional way: make her admit the truth by tickling her. (Isn't she the first woman who saw in the series?!) They learnt Aob was following Nant. Everyone became a suspect in this series at one point.

▪️Nont wants Zouey to patch things up with First and Captain but it's not working. I used to think they were really good friends but Zouey doesn't seem close to them anymore and doesn't seem to regret them. Of course, Captain and First are not Saints and they have a very different mindset as Zouey. In this episode it was really shown how fragile their friendship is. I found that sad because it was one of the best points of this group. At least, Nont said to Zouey how he views him as a friend.

▪️Zouey and Teena got some NC scenes and I felt something was off with Zouey. To be honest, he seemed really weird and almost hiding something.

▪️Jason Lee is still upset about Porsche having a relationship with Jump and he wants to find them. Jason Lee is not a great villain. He is mostly comical and has a bad temper. He is always talking it out on someone, mostly Aob.

▪️I felt pity for Aob. He is still working with his ex sugar daddy, killing people for him but still trying to protect his loved ones. He is taking care of Puen after he gets expelled (Captain had his revenge and revealed to the headmaster of their school that Puen was a prostitute. Even though the real person he should have gone after we're the rugby team). It was also shown before how he cared about the ex-members of the Playboyy. It seems, he can't let go of his ties with Jason Lee.

▪️Nont showed again his unhinged side when he went after Aob. He is after the truth about his twin and it doesn't matter how he gets the answer. Captain and him made a plan to torture Puen in front of Aob to make him talk. Aob's friends went to save him, but it didn't work because some men in black came to the scene, threatening them with guns and forced them to perform sexual acts. It wasn't easy to watch it. I guess those men work for Jason Lee.

▪️Nont, Captain, First and Zouey (who came after) fled when they realized they were helpless and couldn't do anything to save Teena, Soong, Jump or Aob. I didn't expect them to flee. I know they are not fighters and they had no power, but damn, I wish they had tried to do something.

▪️On the other hand, Phop was waiting for Nuth (who had been called by Nont at one point when he was trying to get info from Aob) and scrolling on his computer where he found a video. It has to do with Nant but we never see it because it was the end of the episode. I found the acting brilliant in this scene because at first Phop was smiling and you could see on his face how he found Nuth sweet. He had a file on his computer with pictures of Phop. they were not all flattering but the fact he kept them is to show how attached he is to Phop. However, when he found the video all these good emotions left his face. It was like all these feelings were switched off and only wrath remains.

Next one promised to be sad and tough to watch again. I hope no one is dead because the trailer makes it seem like Puen is not in good form. Jason Lee is still trying to kill Jump and Nont will feel guilty because he believes he is bringing just bad things to his "friends". It's almost the end and the mystery remains about Nant. We still have two episodes and then it's going to be the end 🥹

#my thoughts #thai series #thai bl #bl drama #bl series #random thoughts #playboyy the series #episode 12 #playboyy spoilers #Will it be terrible if I say I never really like Zouey? #There are worst characters than him but I don't know why I could never connect with him. #I didn't talk about Prom and Nont scenes because nothing really happened. They kiss and share intimate time but that's it. #Nont is the most stylish among everyone in this series. I love his outfits. #This episode was better than the previous one.

[vivanightcity]

Little bits and shits about Brooms nomad clan.

(Preemptively saying: these are THEIR beliefs. They are meant to have been a group that set out with good intentions but went along the anprim to ecofacism pipeline with culty overtones where they turned their concept of nature into a god in all but name.)

They're old. Like. Arguably one of the older clans. Of course, they weren't so much a nomad clan before larger scale collapse started happening... they were fugitives. Moving around to avoid detection by corps mad their shit got sabotaged.

Cause that's what their origin is. A group of industrial saboteurs against the rapid and horrific destruction of the environment by corporations. Different cells of the same group eventually banding together to become the Tellus clan. Because of this, their founding numbers are an odd mix from a variety of backgrounds, spurred to action by what they were seeing. Absolutely labelled eco terrorists by most.

Their basic core tenant, that simply derived from a distrust of corporate control and overreach in cyberware but snowballed, is: 'No permanent modifications, unless medically necessary'.

(post got long af so it's going under a cut)

The line of medical necessity is an ongoing debate, and the spirit of that belief is often argued. With many seeing things like hairy dye and body paints as being completely fine, whilst others saying they're also against the intent, just because they aren't permanent doesn't mean they aren't also frivolous displays of vanity.

They're actually, largely, real ass chill with queerness, social transition doesn't rely on hrt because medications are hard to come by, but surgical changes are absolutely allowed. Also more likely to see visible disability among their numbers, too, because of the lack of cyberware intervention. Permanent modification to remove, fix, graft, whatever? Fine. Adding cyberware after? No. So wheelchairs, glasses, old school prostheses, lifelong pain relief and management - usually addictive as fuck - because no, fuck you, you can't get augmented joints or bones, live in pain.

Cyberware isn't trusted because it's corporate originating, corporate controlled. There's no guarantee, no real oversight - as far as they're concerned - on what corporations can do with it. Make things obsolete, charge you software fees, claim you don't own parts of your physical body but are simply renting them, take control of the parts of you that you signed away without warning. All on top of being - as they see it - a completely unnecessary pollutant, indicative of the overconsumption and mass manufacturing.

Corps destroyed the world, and they're destroying humanity. They see cyberpsychosis as natures line in the sand. A sign of things to come, that the world is tired of humans destroying everything and corrupting a natural order, it is going to fight back, and it'll start by wiping out all those who gave into chrome consumerism.

Exclusively use jerryrigged solar panels and turbines. If they're ever in a place they don't work, or there's a breakage or failing, the clan will simply do without. Broom spent a fair chunk of his life without routine electrical access. The hum of it in NC drives him nuts.

It's only because of how long they've been around that many even consider them nomads. Although they'd definitely argue against claims they aren't. But, far from moving constantly in temporary camps as they look for work, they move between set semi-permanent seasonal camps where they sit static for up to half a year. So far removed from anyone and everything and their locations are a violently protected secret. Usually they only send a small group ahead a month or so in advance to get things ready, cleaned up, and make sure its safe. If they have any idea it wont be safe to leave it unguarded, they'll leave people behind year round.

No synth food unless it's a literal emergency, like starvation level. A benefit of having the seasonal camps vs being on the road. Allows farming to a better extent, and without having to move heavy set ups or equipment between seasonal camps. Seasonal, faster growing, subsistence farming for veggies. Big on things like potatoes and beans, not so much on grains like wheat or rice. Corn is about as close as they get.

Not trusting any animal they could klep to not be fucked up corpo genetic mess, they've been maintaining numbers of originally wild caught animals like caribou, rabbits and turkeys. Apparently their early numbers tried to keep bison, too, but they were too big to survive the dwindling wild resources at the time, and are likely one of the many species that went extinct - or they exist only in gene banks, zoos and private collections. Im a horse boy at heart so part of me loves the idea that they have some, especially since they could've taken survivors out of the wild, but I also think they're too big and too resource intensive so I dunno.

Hunting is also decently routine. However, they're very careful about when and where they do so, animal numbers only beginning to recover in some places, and still functionally wiped out in others. And enough of their early members were environmental scientists, ecologists, park rangers even, (all of which had seen their work, their industries, decimated in their lifetimes and were pushing back against it) that they had that good knowledge base to begin with. Also foraging. Broom can id you shrooms for fun, food, or a quick death.

Rarely engage with other nomad clans, only going to gatherings when they need to get information, or help, with something they can't do themselves. Quicker to trust other nomads than anyone else, but still not quick. They'd also always help a fellow nomad, and do actively share what they know and have learnt. That help just comes with a big side of proselytizing and guilt trips about chrome, and can easily turn violent if the other party aren't 'good sports' about the zealotry disguised as a nice conversation.

Actually pretty good at that bit when talking to people who haven't been warned not to listen to them (Most nomads born and raised within packs know to stay away). They know how to get their foot in the door. Well. Some do. Some are Garry the Prophet levels of easy to avoid. But those that have that savy, can find an in.

You can't just leave. Any sort of leaving, even if it's to join another clan, or start your own family, is considered becoming raffen. Someone who leaves is raffen. People are kicked out for a variety of reasons, and that excommunication makes them raffen. Regardless of how stupid that might seem to other nomads, where the definition is more one of violence, a lack of code, general untrustworthy-ness even to fellow nomads. It's why Broom considers himself raffen, even if he really isn't.

#little bits and shits i say #as if this didn't turn into a whole fucking thing #oc: broom #i no there are some places this goes against canon but i tried to keep it minimal #very happy to find out - after writing this - that nomads driving cattle herds is an actual thing #so i don't think its out of the realm of possibility that they'd wind up with a herd of something other than cattle #especially an animal that has long had that sort of relationship with people both in NA and northern europe #random ass pictures just cause #my vp #god there are probably errors in this i'll find in like three hours and be horrified about

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Get ready for Dobbs 2.0, a decision that will far exceed the damage done by the Supreme Court in Dobbs v. Jackson’s Women’s Health.

              In Dobbs v. Jackson’s Women’s Health, the radical majority on the Supreme Court ruled that there is no constitutional right to privacy that protects reproductive liberty. As a result, the debate over regulation of abortion was returned to the states. Or so we thought.

         It is likely that a single federal judge in Texas will issue a nationwide ban on Mifepristone, a drug approved by the FDA for more than two decades to induce therapeutic abortions. The ruling, if made, will effectively outlaw or deny access to abortions across vast swaths of the nation—even in states where legislation or the state constitution protects the right of reproductive liberty.        

         We have reached this sorry state of affairs because ultra-conservative federal judges in Texas have rigged the system to ensure that all challenges to reproductive liberty and LGBTQ rights are funneled to a single judge with extreme religious views. The situation is explained by Dennis Aftergut and Laurence Tribe in Slate, The Texas-Sized Loophole That Brought the Abortion Pill to the Brink of Doom.

         Aftergut and Tribe write,

The problem here goes beyond a single hearing, or even this single case. The real issue is systemic. Far-right groups have created a judicial pipeline to predictable triumph in one culture war battle after another: from Kacsmaryk in the plains of the Texas panhandle, to the hyperconservative U.S. Court of Appeals for the 5th Circuit, to the radically stacked majority on the Trump-packed U.S. Supreme Court. One Amarillo-based judge with carte blanche, virtually certain his extreme views will prevail on appeal, is apparently planning to curtail abortion access across the country.

[Here, there is] a coordinated national strategy, enabled by a district court federal bench, to bring right-wing legal causes into a single courtroom where a favorable result is a sure thing and where fair-minded appellate review has also been hijacked.

         There is a simple—albeit difficult to achieve—solution. We need only elect a Congress and president willing to enact legislation to reform the federal judiciary. That will require (in my view) a carve-out of the filibuster, an expansion of the Supreme Court, curbs on the ability of a single federal judge to issue nationwide injunctions, restrictions on the ability of the Supreme Court to issue merits-based decisions on its “shadow docket,” and enactment of an enforceable code of ethics on the Supreme Court (among many other reforms).

         At some point, the imposition of an extreme religious ideology on all Americans by a new class of judicial aristocrats—or “juristocrats” as described by Aftergut and Tribe—should cause Americans to reclaim their constitutional birthright. We have been too complacent in the face of a concerted assault over the last decade. Perhaps Dobbs 2.0 will be the decision that finally causes Americans to understand that the reactionary judges aren’t going stop until they have effectively codified their religious beliefs in federal law. The coming decision will hurt. Let’s turn our outrage into action.

North Carolina Supreme Court to reconsider case underlying Moore v. Harper.

         On Tuesday, March 14, the North Carolina Supreme Court will hold a hearing to reconsider its ruling in the case underlying Moore v. Harper, currently on appeal before the US Supreme Court. You may recall that Moore v. Harper raises the question of whether the Independent State Legislature theory insulates the NC state legislature from judicial oversight.

         Last year, the North Carolina Supreme Court overturned congressional district boundaries drawn by the state legislature. When the partisan composition of the NC Supreme Court flipped from Democratic to Republican, the new Republican majority on the court agreed to reconsider its ruling—for no good reason other than that it could.

         Chances are good that the NC Supreme Court will reverse its prior ruling, thereby mooting the appeal to the US Supreme Court. The complicated procedural background and possible outcomes are explained by Democracy Docket, North Carolina Supreme Court To Rehear State-Level Redistricting Case Underlying Moore v. Harper - Democracy Docket.

         Like the rogue federal judges in the Fifth Circuit, the Republican judges on the NC Supreme Court are making nakedly partisan rulings because they can. Like the solution for the federal judiciary, the solution in North Carolina is through the ballot box.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

#Corrupt SCOTUS #Opus Dei SCOTUS #Robert B. Hubbell #Robert B Hubbell Newsletter #Women's Rights #women's history #reproductive freedom #reproductive rights #political #the law

[ramonag-if]

Hey there! Loved the new chapter(as usual) - got me feeling all kinds of emotions that I will not be recovering from anytime soon. 😭 I just wanted to write something cause I really love your writing and story and I’ve been following this WIP since it was posted(sorry if it’s long, I just really love these kinds of things).

While I’m not really angry with our mom, I don’t think my MC is gonna want to have anything to do with her cause seriously??? You leave your child with their emotionally closed off father who never expected to care for a child and was a part of a group that killed many of your people simply for their heritage? I understand you were trying to escape and now you’re a super important person leading a rebellion but you couldn’t even check in to see if your ex and child were still alive by like sending a spy disguised as a merchant or something? Having to be asked about Ahlf by her was painful(in like the best ways but I was also kind of offended for him). It doesn’t help that my MC has also been feeling like she won’t be accepted by the Ishari people because she wasn’t raised there and whatnot so seeing that her mom just had a whole other family with a daughter who *is* Ishari. Part of me wasn’t surprised we had a half-sibling but that didn’t stop the disappointment, feeling of betrayal and even some resentment - like wow you are a fantastic writer, thank you so much for blessing us with your art. 🥰

I have to ask though, what would our dad think about Salyra having this whole other family after everything that’s happened? While I’m not entirely sure how the two feel about each other, I can imagine he’d be upset for the MC. Like how they were just left to be taken care by him when he couldn’t be that parent they needed and how her absence and unknown status clearly affected them - not to mention the fact that Salyra thought they’d be safer in a small village of a country that was rather open about their problems with Ishari. She’s right that we don’t know what happened and how it went down but I mean did she ever really expect to see us again? Was she trying or did she just decide that there was no point?(spoilers most likely so ignore that I’m just really invested). I can’t help but wonder what our recently discovered family would think? I felt my MC’s fear when hearing about our half sibling that they would honesty prefer Rana to MC because now they would have a ‘real’ Ishari daughter of Salyra to bond with. Also, my first thought to Rana maybe developing a little crush on Irus was, “Nah, you already took my mom, you ain’t taking my Prince.” I know she’s like 10, and my MC is planning on being a good older sister but we gotta draw the line at Irus. He’s my MC’s emotional support Prince. 😅

Regardless, it isn’t looking all that great for Salyra and my MC will be keeping her at arms length unless she needs to gain favor in order to get the alliance or more help in some way(Literally would do anything for Irus, completely in love with him). I am so looking for to the drama though, you write it so well. 👀

Thank you so much for playing and I'm so happy you enjoyed the update 💖😊 And thank you so much for your continued support, it really means so much to me!

It is really a complicated thing with Salyra and you are more than free to feel upset/betrayed/hurt by the way she's gone about protecting the MC. I do enjoy complicated family dynamics, it's something that I've always tended to write about in my stories since I feel like it's not always showcased as much as romantic angst. Thank you for enjoying the angst, I do have a blast writing it 😆

You will get a chance to learn about Ahlf's feelings about Salyra - there's a lot that happened that the MC was unaware about between their parents and you'll also get to see the Vinian family react to Salyra in Part 3 😬😅

Don't worry, the Vinian family already love the MC and will accept the NC regardless of their heritage. Zikar's mother is from Vinia, so they're already quite open to other cultures.

Irus is never going to abandon the MC 😆 So rest assured, Rana's childhood crush will eventually fade away.

Salyra will help the MC regardless of their relationship because she sees it as her way if trying to make up for her absence, so feel free to be as upset and rude as you want 😋

#crown of exile #answered asks #chapter 5 spoilers #salyra #princeirus #rana

[acourtofthought]

Do you think Rhysands knows Azriel and Gwyn are mates? Bc in acowar he was kinda sure Nesta and Cassian were mates.

And if I want to be honest Rhys reacted a bit too much even if I think it was deserved. Maybe that's why he got mad bc Az wants to have a mate but he's that much of idiot that still hasn't noticed he has one. And somehow Rhys knows about it.

 

I don't think he does.

In ACOWAR, Rhys may have considered the possibility that Nessian were mates but when Feyre directly asks him about it he tells her he's not sure and until the bond snaps into place, it can be hard to detect. And that was after they had all spent a lot of time witnessing Nesta and Cassian interact with one another and Cassian's inability to keep his distance from Nesta at that time.

I think his reaction to Az in the POV was completely related to Mor, Elain, and Lucien.

First, Mor is Rhys's cousin and Rhys knows Az has loved her for centuries. So it probably was a bit odd for him to see Az about to hook up with Elain when he knows for a fact that Az has been wanting a bond with Mor for forever. To him, it looked like Az was about to use his sister-in-law for sex.

Then, Rhys knows that Elain hasn't rejected her bond with Lucien. Rhys specifically tells Feyre that Elain will have their protection "if she rejects the bond."

It's not that Elain isn't free to do what she wants because she is but Az, as an important and recognizable figure in Rhysands' court is not necessarily free to do whatever he wants (that's called being responsible).

He represents the IC in a major way.

The entire Court of Dreams and the lnner Circle was formed around protecting their people.

Az has actively chosen to remain a member of that group and that means his priority should be caring about the court. His love life should not jeopardize the safety of their lands.

His court was so important to Rhys that he was even willing to use Feyre as a means to help him do so. And even when he finally went in to pull Feyre out of Spring, he made sure they did it by the book so that a war could not rightfully be brought upon them.

But with Az's actions on Solstice, he was putting the safety of an entire people on his desire to hook up with Elain because he was jealous that he didn't get a bond like his brothers got and because she's attractive.

Rhys asked Az to explain himself and Az said nothing. Rhys asked Az "What of Mor?" and Az said nothing. And then Az continued to say nothing about actually caring for Elain and only said, "you guys got to be with her sisters so why did I as the third brother not get the third sister?" 😬 His entire reasoning for wanting to make out with Elain had nothing to do with her as an individual and only had to do with her being part of a math equation.

And I think that enraged Rhys because Az is truly not giving any thought as to how his actions could hurt everyone in the Night Court. At this point in the book, they'd been extremely worried about peace treaty not being signed. They had been extremely worried about the downfall of the Spring court and the fact that they don't have it's army as an ally. They had been worried about the human queens / Koschei. And Lucien is connected to all of those things.

It's not that Rhys is forcing Elain to do what he wants her to do, it's that he expects a top member of his IC to put his desire to get off after what is best for an entire land and it's people especially because Az couldn't convince him it was anything more than that.

Az doesn't have the luxury of throwing a pity party for himself and pissing off an ally by being selfish in hooking up with Elain, that's not how important members of a court are supposed to behave.

If Az, a notable figure in the NC wants to be with someone, he should do it in a way that doesn't risk the safety of others. All he and Elain would have needed to do is sit down and talk to Lucien which would mean their interest in one another would not risk the peace of the lands. But Rhys knows Elain has not done that which means she hasn't rejected her bond which means Az owes it to the NC to not be a slave to his lust. His actions were dangerous and I think that really pissed Rhys off.

I think it's funny how some interpret the next book as a "love conquers all" type of story, where people from across the lands will just lay down their weapons to honor the great love story that is E/riel.

The romance is a huge plot-point, I don't disagree. But it's never more important than these characters sacrificing for their world as a whole. The pairings have to also benefit what is best for their land.

Tamlin is a prime example of this. His desire to get Feyre back at any cost was not looked at as heroic by SJM. Instead it made him look like the bad guy who abandoned his court in favorite of focusing on Feyre.

So I doubt Elain and Az would end up together, burning bridges for their "forbidden" love along the way only to prove "love wins!" in the end. The love story needs to support the plot, not sacrifice allies that are helping secure peace for them all.

I think that was the focus of Rhys's in the POV and probably had nothing to do with Gwyn especially because his first thought went to Mor.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #anti e/riel

[racefortheironthrone]

Not sure if this is something you’ve heard about but here goes; I was told by one of my favorite high school teachers years ago that there was a town in North Carolina where a man during the civil rights movement created a black militia essentially to protect other black people and that this group helped fight off civilians and police at certain points during demonstrations throughout the civil rights movement, but that to sway public opinion they mostly were held back and did essentially mass body guard detail. He told it as a way to say that non-violence as presented in the popular understanding of the civil rights movement is white washed and untruthfully creates “violent” and “non violent” sides when in reality there was a decent amount of the other going on with any particular liberation group. I can’t find anything about this guy or these things, do you know something about this? I know this ain’t your section of history but as someone versed in American history I thought it’s be worth a try to ask if this is a real person/events or something my teacher just believed

I think your high school teacher was referring to Robert Franklin Williams. Williams was an interesting figure, because on the one hand we can see him as part of a very conventional civil rights movement - he was president of the local NAACP, he worked to desegregate swimming pools and libraries, he worked to defend two young black boys who had been jailed for being kissed by white girls - and on the other, we can also see him as part of a tradition of black armed self-defense that stretches all the way back to Reconstruction and that really challenges our preoccupation with non-violence as the sine qua non of civil rights.

Williams was a WWII veteran who, when the Klan started responding to his non-violent civil rights activism by shooting at his pickets, formed an official NRA-chartered rifle club called the Black Armed Guard., which did engage in defensive shootouts with the Klan in 1957. Likewise, in 1959, Wiliams gave a speech on the courthouse steps in which he said "if it's necessary to stop lynching with lynching, then we must be willing to resort to that method. We must meet violence with violence."

In 1961, during the middle of a Freedom Ride campaign, Williams was charged with kidnapping a white couple in what was pretty clearly a set-up by NC law enforcement to put a serious criminal charge on someone they viewed as a dangerous radical. Williams fled the state, which led to him getting hit with Federal charges from the FBI, which led him to flee the country and become an exile in Cuba. While in Cuba, Williams wrote a book about his beliefs on armed self-defense called Negroes With Guns that was very influential among the Black Panthers and other militant groups.

I do want to echo your teacher in saying that the question of violence vs. non-violence was a complicated one in the civil rights movement: MLK and other civil rights leaders in the SCLC/CORE/SNCC orbit understood that non-violence was a tactic that worked by making the violent response of white citizens and especially white law enforcement seem even more disproportionate in the eyes of the newsmedia and Northern opinion, and recognized the right to self-defense. Even MLK, who went further than most in embracing non-violence as an ethos, owned guns for self-defense for a period of his life, although he would later get rid of them.

The real line of disagreement within the movement was between self-defense and retaliatory violence. King et al. were perfectly willing to accept the former, given the realities they all faced, but they were not willing to countenance the latter, which they saw as counter-productive and ultimately doomed to failure.

#history #u.s history #civil rights movement