justnerdystuffs

[justnerdystuffs]

[justnerdystuffs]

statements like "It's wrong to masturbate about a person without their consent" and "It's wrong to do something that quietly arouses you while you are in public even if no one can see it" show that a person's understanding of morality basically involves magical thinking. like I wrote this post on the toilet. That's not the same thing as me literally shitting on you

[justnerdystuffs]

I'm so glad I live in a world where there's Archive of Our Own

[justnerdystuffs]

can we send up a quick thank you to pdf uploaders, torrent seeders, copy sharers, scanlators, fansubbers, digitizers, paywall dodgers, and various other internet archivers for making niche art and information more accessible in a media landscape where all but the most profitable mainstream are often tossed aside and left to rot

[justnerdystuffs]

me .01 seconds after emphatically saying yes to plans

[justnerdystuffs]

people have these “my dog is a democrat” stickers and I like to imagine them with increasingly unlikely animals professing more niche political opinions:

my parrot is a democratic socialist

my arctic fox is an anarchopastoralist

my catfish believes in the divine right of kings

[justnerdystuffs]

Tuira Kayapó brandished her machete in the face of a government official who was trying to convince indigenous leaders to accept a mega-dam project in the Amazon, 1989

[justnerdystuffs]

What to do if you find yourself homless- written by someone who has actually been homeless

Most important: Spend the money you have on a motel. Churches probably will not actually help and shelters can be dangerous or turn you away. At a motel you have free breakfast, access to running water, and a lockable place to sleep. Do not waste money on a gym membership like the popular version of this post says to do, YMCA memberships are like $40.

2. Contact family and friends. Now is not the time to worry about being a burden. Your survival and safety comes first and that is all that matters, anyone worth having in your life will agree.

3. Start a gofundme. Even if someone can’t offer you a place to stay, they might be willing to toss out $5 so you can eat today.

4. Libraries have free wifi. Apply to any and all jobs you can think of if you aren’t already working.

5. Any home is a good home. Even if it’s a dingy apartment in a bad neighborhood. If its cheap and you can afford it, snatch it up. 

6. Pancake mix and peanut butter are filling, cheap, and last a long time.

PLEASE SHARE THE FUCK OUT OF THIS

[justnerdystuffs]

[justnerdystuffs]

there's magic in those hands of yours - k.b

♡ summary: for some reason, kaz is able to find solace in your touch and only yours pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader warnings: panic attacks but that's pretty much it wc: 1.8k

The crow club was busy tonight. Lots of ‘pigeons’ as Kaz would say, but you barely even noticed them. You were busy behind the bar, glancing up at the closed door to your bosses office every few minutes.

He’d been up there since he got to the club, barely even making an appearance before disappearing up the dark stairs. Honestly, you were worried about him. 

Usually, he’d make his rounds, staying on the floor for around an hour, just watching the patrons, making sure there was no cheating, before heading upstairs.

You’d known him for a few years now. Most of the time, you bartended at his club, went on jobs for him occasionally, but never the very dangerous ones. You’d even go so far as to call him your friend, though, he definitely would not.

You slid a drink to the customer at the end of the bar before glancing at your coworker.

“I’m gonna take a five.” They nodded, continuing to work without much more thought to you. You slipped out from behind the bar, heading up the stairs.

There’s no response when you knock on the door. Not even an ‘I’m busy.’ which would usually mean ‘go away’.

“Kaz?” You called, to no avail. “Kaz, I’m coming in.” You reached for the knob, slowly cracking the door open.

The room was dark, only lit from the moonlight streaming through the window. Kaz wasn’t at his desk. You called his name, stepping further into the room, shutting the door behind you.

Then, you spotted him. He was sitting in the darkest corner of the room, knees pulled up to his chest, head bent with his hands clasped over it. 

“Kaz?” You approached slowly, as if closing in on a wild animal. Closer now, you noticed his tousled hair, the way his shoulders rose and fell frantically, his breathing erratic. 

You crouched next to him, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, burying his head further in his knees.

“Kaz, it’s me.” Your arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him into you. Your scent fills his nose, the warmth of your body enveloping him. 

His breathing was too fast, he was going to pass out at this rate if you didn’t do something. You pressed his head to your chest, taking slow, deep breaths, hoping he’d follow. Hoping that somehow, the simple rhythm would break through his subconscious and calm him down.

“It’s okay, I’m right here.” You murmured into his hair, your voice shaking slightly with panic before continuing with your deep breaths, his lungs slowly following suit.

Eventually, he was able to blink his eyes open and he felt himself slowly coming back from his nightmarish visions. It had been Jordie again. All he could see, all he could feel were his brothers cold wet hands all over his skin.

He couldn’t even remember what had started it. One moment, he was sitting at his desk, going over the ledgers, the next, he was stumbling across the room, sweating and trembling as he sank to the floor.

“I’m right here, Kaz. Just breathe.” Your words finally reached his ears as his rapid heartbeat slowed. Cracking open his eyes, he realized something. You were touching him. Your skin was on his and it wasn’t a grievance. It was a comfort. 

With his head against your chest, he could hear your heartbeat, intertwined with his own which was pounding in his ears. Eventually, they became one, beating in the same rhythm. 

Your hand smoothed down the back of his neck as his arms dropped to his sides and he croaked your name, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.

“Are you okay?” You tried to pull back to look at him but he wraps his arms around your stomach, keeping you close to him, afraid that if he loses your warmth, the panic will come back.

“Don’t- don’t go.” He rasps, vulnerability seeping from his every pore.

“I’m not leaving Kaz. I just wanna check on you. Maybe get you some water or something.” He takes a few steadying breaths before loosening his hold on you. You stand, filling a glass of water at his sink before sitting back down. He drinks, the water soothing his throat.

“Are you alright?” You ask again.

“Fine.” Kaz mumbles, missing your embrace already. And just like that, his walls were rebuilding themselves, leaving you and everyone else blocked behind them, isolating him in-

“Kaz, I care about you.” That caught him off guard. “I hate watching you go through this alone. You’re not fine, I know you’re not.” He stared at you, your concerned gaze making his heart clench.

He swallowed thickly. Opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. What could he even say to that?

“I just- I want you to talk to me. I want you to trust me enough to talk to me. Especially about things like this. I mean- we’re friends, right?” He looked at you. 

His instincts told him to deny it. His instincts told him to put his walls back up. To hide behind them again where it was safe. Where he could still seem like some intimidating, deadly man instead of the vulnerable, weak version of himself he thought he’d squandered so long ago.

“Yes.” He agreed quietly. He’d like to call you his friend. He did trust you. You were probably the person he trusted most, actually. One of the only reasons he even came to the club, walked around the floor, was to see you. “We’re… friends.” He murmured quietly.

“Okay, well, friends tell each other when they’re not okay.” He sighed, letting his head tip back against the wall. When his eyes fluttered shut, you knew you weren’t going to get any more conversation out of him tonight.

“You should get back to the Slat.”

“I will. I just have a few things I need to do first.” You sighed, standing up. He’d come back to himself eventually. Right now, you had pigeons to attend to.

–

Kaz had taken being your friend seriously. He treated it like another business deal that he needed to follow through on. In fact, he took it so seriously that you became more than friends.

You don’t know when it happened. When you started spending more and more time in his office, just being near him, in his space with him. When he started searching for you in every room, buying you gifts, walking you home.

He’d been attending your weekly market trips, though he didn’t really buy anything. Rather just walking alongside you, quiet most of the time.

Today you were headed out to the market again, Kaz silently meeting you at the bottom of the Slat. He carefully reached out, flattening the collar of your wool coat before the two of you started on your way.

This was your favorite time of day, when the sun rose over the grey streets, the rest of the city still asleep. Kaz had to admit, he enjoyed it as well.

He loved the way you seemed to thrive in the sun, so contradictory to the darkness of Ketterdam. He often wondered why you stayed here, why you didn’t move to Ravka, or Novyi Zem where the sun was a lot more prevalent.

He stopped short, pulled from his thoughts as you paused at a market stand, browsing the selection of fruits. Once you’d picked out a couple and the seller handed you a bag, he swooped in, slipping the bag from your hand to carry it himself.

You continued throughout the market, Kaz your shadow as dawn melted into late morning. You were strolling down the gravel path when a man passed you, his shoulder colliding with Kaz’s.

His gait was cut short as he stopped, the man putting a bare hand on his shoulder to steady him. He must’ve been the one man in Ketterdam who hadn’t heard about Dirtyhands’ reputation, as he continued to apologize.

You could see in Kaz’s face that he wasn’t listening, whether intentionally or not, he was somewhere deep in his own mind, the feeling of the strangers skin making bile rise up his throat. He jerked out of the man's grasp, the bag slipping from his hand as he stumbled backwards.

“Kaz?” You stepped closer to him, shooing the stranger away. Kaz’s eyes were wild, chills rising on his skin. He felt like the small crowd in the market was closing in on him, the air was too thin, he was suffocating.

He turned away from you, limping haphazardly to the nearest alleyway where he clutched the wall with one hand, the other clenched at his side.

He was struggling to get a breath in, squeezing his eyes shut as if he could imagine his way out of this situation. He knew it was fruitless, but in his panic, he was willing to attempt anything.

But then, he felt a warm hand on his back, a smooth, honey-like voice in his ear.

“Kaz. Just breathe.” You move in front of him, bringing your hands up to your mouth to breathe hot air on them in an attempt to warm them up before settling them on his skin.

You hold his jaw in your palms. Since the first time you’d seen him break down in his office, you’ve had experience in helping with his comedown. He trusted you enough to let you see him in his most vulnerable state and you’ve since learned what he needs at this moment.

“I’m right here, Kaz, just focus on me, focus on my voice.” He can faintly hear your voice getting louder. “Open your eyes.” He does because he doesn’t know what else to do to get the water out of his lungs.

You pull his face closer to yours, his heartbeat slowing at the sensation of you surrounding him. When his eyes find yours, you can tell he’s coming back to you.

“Kaz?” He lets out a shaky breath, leaning closer until he can rest his forehead on yours. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” He mumbled, his hand clutching the top of his cane. He finally realizes that his hand is empty and glances around. “The fruit.” His gripe is a quiet murmur, making you smile softly.

“It’s okay. We can get more.” When Kaz looked at you, feeling the tightness in his chest ease, the tension in his temple alleviate, he realized something. Your hands were still on his face. And he felt fine.

Maybe it was the warmth of your skin, or maybe it was the fact that he trusted you so much. But honestly? He preferred to call it magic.

[justnerdystuffs]

OPs dad really went:

just had an extremely funny memory of being 9 years old and wondering if i was gay and then deciding i couldn't be because gay people were so rare that it was statistically improbable for me to be one

[justnerdystuffs]

Endlessly diabolical how you can't say words like rape and suicide uncensored without either being criticised by idiots or punished by conglomerates.

[justnerdystuffs]

I feel so bad for the annoying women at work. Like I actually feel sick when we’re interacting and I feel the annoyance occurring in my brain like she really doesn’t mean to be this way and she just doesn’t want to feel alone or rejected. you can tell she’s experienced being an outsider everywhere she goes it’s only a matter of time. And it’s not cool chic or edgy but in the ugliest most desperate and dehumanizing way. They always start hopeful. they want to connect and they go searching for someone receptive to her so she can find her people but everyone turns away from her slowly and u hear it in her voice. It’s happening again. she starts hesitating to speak and when she does you hear a shaky child ending every sentence like it’s a question. Testing the waters to know if she’s wrong for even trying. And then I realize I took her smile for granted now that it’s gone.. I have to make it up to her I can’t let something like this continue. Life is so hard for people everywhere, so building a tolerance for being irritated is nothing in comparison especially if the reward is less pain and loneliness in the world I will always be the bestie you have my word

[justnerdystuffs]

[justnerdystuffs]

[justnerdystuffs]

This whole thing about scanning your face to prove tour age is making me remember, in 2018 while out in paris we got our wallet stolen during a particularly busy night at a lesbian bar. It was very late and with no money to buy metro tickets we were effectively stranded, but some people helped us and we ended up staying the night at a really sweet older man's place. His face was deeply scarred and he was missing an eye. We chatted on our way and he told me about his life, probably to help calm me down. He explained he had been stuck in a house fire 20 years ago and had had multiple rounds of facial reconstruction and a skin graft, but there's only so much surgery can do so he just learned to live with it. I remember he said he liked the queer bars because they're the only place people don't really stare at him.

At some point I took out my phone, and at the time I was using face unlock. This prompted him to tell me all the ways this technology doesn't work on him. How his phone selfie camera doesn't focus right because it's not a detecting a face. How he had to update his ID the old fashioned way, because the website kept rejecting his photos. And how it was becoming more and more common, and how it was making his life way harder.

This was 7 years ago, and now whenever I see this sort of technology I think of how that guy can't use it. And how house fires are pretty common, and how anything from being born this way to a skin condition to heavy tattooing can probably cause the same issue. Can these people get age verified ? Will they just lose access to all social media, which are increasingly necessary in society, if this becomes the norm ? These are people who are already driven out of public spaces due to how they look, and they're getting pushed out online too all in the interest of companies wanting more money.

[justnerdystuffs]

“If autism isn’t caused by environmental factors and is natural why didn’t we ever see it in the past?”

We did, except it wasn’t called autism it was called “Little Jonathan is a r*tarded halfwit who bangs his head on things and can’t speak so we’re taking him into the middle of the cold dark forest and leaving him there to die.”