#(and the equivalents in other languages as well)

[ateliersss]

Bandaids and Kisses

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: One part of motherhood seemed to be patching up your reckless pup after another adventure in the wild against his parents’ wishes. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 2.885 Before the Blooming Family series

⇨ Hello, you Yautja lovers. With this, we are going back in time, before the happenings of the "Blooming Family" series. I hope you enjoy it! Comments are always appreciated!

⇨ You want to know something hilarious? A Yautja in their early twenties is the equivalent of a human in its 50's/60's, so Akail as a ten-year-old Yautja would be a minus something human baby.

“Oh my God, Akail! Again?”

You were taken to Yautja Prime about fifty years ago, Life-mated to Mi’ytiar for forty years, and an accepted and established member of his clan for ten years now. Ten years, the same amount of time your son had walked, talked, and breathed. Ruling alongside your mate and hunting for food weren’t enough to make your contribution. Giving Mi’ytiar a pup had apparently been the only thing that changed your role among them; from an outsider (and even a simple plaything for their leader to some) to what you were now — the female counterpart of a clan leader, the Matriarch.

You had heard of several Matriarchs on Yautja Prime. Like you, they were mated to the clan leader, but unlike you, they were the superior one in their dynamic, and even above an Elder or Ancient. You wouldn’t dare to assume the same form of authority for yourself and kept to the secondary leading role just as a queen consort on Earth would. You had much more freedom and control than you could ask for, completely content in the position you were holding right now, and you never felt the need to claim the power of a true Matriarch. The fact that the Females of the Yautja race were viewed much higher in leading roles than the Males was satisfying enough.

Nonetheless, you still had particular obligations and a certain appearance to maintain. You would take part in organizing the journey of the Un-Blooded to become Blooded, ensured the civilized coexistence within the clan by taking on the role of a judge in court on Earth, approved of every newborn pup that is presented to you and deem them worthy, listened to their requests and suggestions and tried to contribute as best as you could, and even had become a beacon of generosity and kindness to the clan for advice and consolation. The list went on and on, but instead of feeling crushed by the huge amount of responsibility, you relished in it. It was an honor, truly.

Another thing that was expected of you was joining the elder Females in their den and listening to their wisdom with other younger Females. Rather than a bothersome duty you had to force yourself to attend, you absolutely loved their company.

And the den was a beautiful place you loved to spend your time in, a flawless merge between ancient architecture and the futuristic Yautja influence, round in shape and with a high dome-ish roof that was held together by a construct of pillars and beams into which hieroglyphs were carved. Fire was burning in the hollow beams and illuminated the room above the heads of everyone present.

A week of adjusting to your new life had gone by without leaving Mi’ytiar’s home — your home the second you had crossed the threshold — before he decided it was time to introduce you to his people. And the place he had brought you to first was the den of the Elders. It had been a tough start, but they were surprisingly objective. Instead of seeing you for what you were, they saw you for who you were. Even if you were among giants, you had felt welcomed.

On this day and decades later, you had joined them as well, taking your place at the fire pit and opposite the entrance on the only chair in the round room. The Matriarch had her very own seat in the den, a throne-like construction made of something that felt like a mix of stone and metal. Meanwhile, the other Females sat on white stepstones on the mossy ground around the pit.

Matheih, the Female that held the unofficially highest rank among the Elders and had been the first you felt comfortable with, was just about to discuss the matter of a Bad Blood who had come too close to the clan's borders when you noticed movement from the corner of your eye. You snapped your head to the entrance and gasped.

Your shocked exclamation had cut Matheih off, causing her to startle. The rest of the Elders either looked at you, or your son who seemed to shrink under the intense eyes of the Females.

You immediately rose from your seat, the others following you swiftly, and you raced around them to Akail who anxiously fiddled with the charm attached to his loin cloth.

One day, you had noticed the longing gaze of your pup fixed to his father’s loin cloth and the trinkets and trophies swinging on his hips. Without further ado, you tailored him something new and decorated it with a thread on which various square stones and animal teeth were strung, the thread sewn into the front of the self-made cloth to the right hip. His eyes had been so bright when you presented it to him.

“Akail, my little warrior.” You sighed when you reached your son, kneeling in front of him to be on the same level as him.

You cupped his cheeks and examined his face. There were several cuts across his face — two on his forehead, one under his right eye, and one above his left eye — and fluorescent green blood was smeared around his wounds and coated his mandibles. When you checked his dreads, running your fingers through the short tendrils, he winced.

“My sweetling, what happened?” You asked when you grabbed his hands and scanned his arms up and down.

“I follow a tochi.” He mumbled and instantly avoided your stern glare.

A lie.

Placing your pointer and middle finger under his chin, you tilted his head up so he was looking into your eyes again.

“Were you near the borders again?” You pressed on and raised an eyebrow.

Akail pulled a grimace. “Yeah.”

Another lie.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s dangerous?”

Akail looked down like a kicked puppy. “Sorry, Mama.”

No. No, you were not allowed to melt right now. You needed to be strong and determined to be angry at him for disobeying one of your and his father’s rules. You needed him to understand that running after an animal for the nth time and moving too far away from the clan’s land was risky without someone by his side.

But those damn puppy eyes of his, the same look his father sometimes used on you, they made you weak and yielding.

“Come on.” You softly smiled at him and stretched out a hand to him.

When you stood upright again, Akail wasted no time to grab your hand while his other arm wrapped around your leg, clinging to you. You turned to the Females, excused yourself, and apologized to Matheih for interrupting her before you and Akail left the den.

Hand in hand, you walked the short route to your home.

“Does it hurt, my sweetling?” You asked him when you entered the grounds of your home.

You whistled at Be'jaa who had started barking at the intruders, as well as the two other Hell Hounds Mi’ytiar owned, Vohtu and Gihn’tha, and signaled them that it was just you and to stand down.

“Not anymore, Mama.” Akail vehemently shook his head, putting on a brave face.

You smiled down at him and led him inside, lifted him into your arms, and carried him to the long table that stood in the center of the main room of your home. Behind it and opposite the entrance door, three other doors lead deeper into your home to adjoining rooms like your bedroom. Just like the den of the elders, this room was round with a dome roof made out of orange and light grey glass, but there was at least a meter of additional ceiling going sideways from where the dome ended and from which a ring of rock was hanging down, like a huge ring-shaped lamp circling the whole room.

Just like a routine, you placed him down on the surface, kissed the little space between his nonexistent eyebrows, immediately eliciting a merry purr from him, and got the Medicomp that was stored in one of the box-drawers under the long shelves where your mate displayed his trophies.

You placed the Medicomp next to Akail on the table, sat down, and quickly got to work crushing the plaster and melting it with the burner, adding the blue solvent and mixing it until you got a gel.

“You know the drill, baby. It’s going to hurt.” You warned him, taking one of his hands into your free one before you started applying the gel to the thin cuts on his face.

Immediately, Akail let out a sharp hiss and squeezed your hand as hard as he could. But he remained still, not wanting to ruin your already careful treatment. His eyes danced across your face, admired the color of your eyes that was so different from his, studied your smooth skin that wasn’t as rough or beige and green as his, scanned your mouth that wasn’t hidden behind tusks.

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off before he could even utter the first syllable of his question.

“Be honest with me, Akail. What happened? You don’t just get wounds like that because you followed a tochi.” You questioned him and placed the spatula to the side before you grabbed the cloth that you had added to the Medicomp and dabbed the blood away from his already healing cuts and his mandibles.

“Stumbled over a stone.” He answered in a huff.

Another lie.

“I roll down a slope in a bush.”

Lie, lie, lie.

You hummed. “The bad ones near the stonehenge? I told you to stay away from there. Those statues are unstable and you aren’t yet strong enough to withstand their weight should one fall down on you.”

“Sorry, Mama.” Akail muttered and pulled his head in as if it would help him to escape the shame your words caused him.

You were melting once again at the sincerity in his words and reassurance washed over you. You may have had no idea how to raise a child as you never had the opportunity of doing it before, but you must be doing something right when he was capable of realizing his mistakes and showing remorse. But it wasn’t the kind of remorse you were thinking of.

“It’s alright, my sweetling. And you did so well in keeping still for me. You were very brave.” You cooed and kissed first the healing cuts on his forehead before you turned to the ones at his eyes.

But he wasn’t. If he was as brave as you claimed, he would tell you that it wasn’t the thorns of the bushes overgrowing the stonehenge but the still-developing claws of the older Younglings making fun of you that had caused the wounds. Akail had tried very, very hard to ignore their teasing and provoking snides, but when one of them — the tallest of all people — started talking about how glad he was that his mother was a respectable Female of the tribe and not some foreign, lowly pet that warmed the nest of the clan leader and probably pleased any other Male on the side, little Akail saw only red.

He had jumped the older Youngling and bit down on his neck while his claws inflicted as much damage as they were capable of. But due to his smaller size and frail strength, this advantage was turned against him in the next second when he felt his face being scratched open and his back colliding with the ground when he was pushed off by the older boy.

Luckily, before the situation could escalate even more, two Blooded Yautja neared the small group and Akail used the opportunity to quickly stand up and hurry to the den of the Elders where he knew his mother was.

It hadn’t been the first time and it will probably not be the last time, but he had promised himself to always protect you from anything that could crush your beautiful heart and kind soul that had showed him unconditional love from the moment he had opened his eyes to take his first ever look at his mother. It had been blurry and unfocused, but he remembered your smile. That smile.

“Mama?” Akail asked as he watched you packing up the Medicomp.

“Mhm?” You hummed and lowered yourself on one of the chairs around the table, right in front of him.

Instantly, Akail reached for your shiny hair and started fiddling with it, feeling how soft and silky it was. When he was a toddler, he would often play with it while purring, not being able to speak yet but his sweet chatter combined with his wide eyes was enough for you to be reminded how much he was his father’s son. Both were enamored, maybe even slightly obsessed with your human features.

Akail huffed. “Why you not look like me?”

“Hm?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise at the topic of his sudden question.

“Why you look like this? Why not like me or Papa?” He pushed further and curled a lock of your hair around his pointer finger.

“My sweetling.” You cooed, lifted him up by his waist, and settled him down on your lap, his legs dangling from each side of your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your chest close to your throat. “Do you remember the bedtime stories I sometimes tell you?”

You only felt vibrations against your skin and you took that as an answer, a cue to continue, “When I was little like you, your grandmama sat next to my bed and told me the same ones.”

Akail pulled his face from your chest and lifted his head to look up at you. “Grandmama?”

I nod. “Yeah. Mama’s mama.” You cupped his little face and peppered it with kisses. “Those stories are from the place I was born. Earth.”

“Are there more looking like you?”

“Yes. Many like me. Earth is similar to home. There are villages all over the planet and they speak different tongues, too. They have a clan leader called a major or a president and they have warriors, but also normal people who work jobs or go to school.”

“What is job?” Akail asked curiously and cocked his head to the side.

“A job is something oomans do to earn a living, to build a life. It is a little different here. For example, with a job you can earn money and buy food, but here, you just go into the forest and hunt. With a job, you can also build a house, but here, you just do it yourself with resources this planet has to offer.” You explained with a soft smile.

“What a ooman?”

“It’s what I am, my little warrior. Mama is ooman, a human. That’s why I look so different than you or your Papa.”

“But why I don’t look more like you?” Akail asked and his adorable face got even more precious when he pulled it into a frown.

You hummed as if you were in thought before you put on a bright grin and started to tickle his sides. “Because I wanted someone unique and extraordinary, and I hoped for someone who is as handsome and strong and chivalrous as your Papa. And speaking of your Papa, he was determined to have a pup like you, my sweetling.”

Mi’ytiar had been very determined indeed that his DNA took root inside you. It also hadn’t been the only thing that had completely dominated you.

“I know I’m not as big and strong and pretty as the other mothers-“

“You more pretty!”

“What?” You asked with raised eyebrows at his offended tone.

“You more pretty! More pretty than other mothers, more pretty than other Females! Say you more pretty!” Akail protested, immediately standing up for you even against your own words.

You had to swallow your emotions during his short rant. This boy had your heart, so precious and pure, and your emotional intelligence, already developed so far for his young age. You had no idea you were able to create something so beautiful and special.

“I’m more pretty.” You repeated his words with a smile, petting the top of his head, and kissed his forehead one, two, three times. “Why don’t you go and look for Papa, hm? I bet he loves to teach you a little something about leadership.”

Akail climbed down from your lap with a click of his mandibles and was already running out of your home. You had followed him, a little slower than the hazardous speed of his, and leaned with your shoulder against the entrance as you watched him in amusement.

You had hated the thought of becoming a mother. You had hated the thought of how children would affect your health and body. You had hated the thought of giving up your freedom for them. You had hated the thought of limiting your own life to adapt to theirs. You had hated the thought of abandoning every hope you had felt, every plan you had made, and every dream you had envisioned to tend to each of their needs.

God, never had you been happier to be wrong.

Masterlist: here

Tag List

@rorrika, @lialiwasneverseen, @lil-lilacwitch, @purplekitten30, @eternalmoonshineofahopelessfan,

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@freyablack90

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[sosadraws]

A very extensive list of replika headcanons because I'm sick and tired of laying in bed doing nothing

Warning: VERY LONG

Elster

-It's not that they love being solitary as much as being very awkward interacting with others, and their serious faces doesn't make them any more approachable...

-They deal with loneliness with always keeping themselves busy and making routines packed to the top with things to do.

-In that sense, Elster genuinely enjoys tasks that require some level of problem solving.

-They have a deep, hoarse voice. That being said, they don't really talk much.

-In her relationship with Ariane, she was the "acts of service" person. Even as Ariane sickness progressed, she tried to bring her comfort as much as she could.

Eule -They're very flexible

-They hum a lot while doing chores, and can come up with song lyrics on the get go.

-One of the reasons why replikas have short hair is because otherwise Eules would get distracted easily braiding and styling it

-At times they can be kinda harsh with themselves. They strive for perfection (their gestalt was an overachiever)

-The walk like models/swing their hips a lot

Kolibri -They function on 70% caffeine

-They're REALLY GOOD at reading other's body language, so sometimes they don't need to rely on their bioresonance to tell what others are thinking.

-They have inside jokes and memes that they share to each other via their hivemind.

-They walk very fast to catch up with other replikas

-In the same way that they easily influence other replikas, they can also get affected by strong emotions of those around them. So sometimes they hang out with Mynahs to emotionally recharge with their chill vibes.

Mynah

-Beo is the oldest/most experienced of the Mynah units, and the leader of the cadre at S-23.

-Their gestalt was a mother that worked as a coal miner in Rotfront.

-The circle in the middle of their visor is dark glass, and the red dots are lights

-They're very aware of their size and strength, which is what makes them to be extra careful and gentle with smaller units and gestalts

-They walk with short steps

-Due to their heavy frame, they're anatomically different to other replika. They don't get damaged easily, but they're trickier to repair. That's why once Elster found Beo in the mines, she couldn't repair her with the patches .

-Sometimes they name their plushies after their favorite replikas/gestalts

-the plushies are for filling the void left by their gestalts love for cats.

-it's not necessarily that they don't get affected by the circumstances surrounding them, it's just that they don't like to think on the bigger implications or they just don't internalize it (Aka "don't think too hard about it").

Ara

-They can see in the dark (in a similar way to cats).

-The tunnels they make are extremely narrow. Many replikas and gestalts have gotten stuck before, which is why it isn't recommended to retrieve them.

-Sometimes the do listen to other's conversations, but not necessarily out of bad intent as much as boredom/background noise as they do other activities (the equivalent of watching a YouTube essay as you eat).

-They're in the realistic/cynical side of things, tho they usually mean well. They're big shy introverts, but eventually they get adopted by the Eules into their social circles.

-They love Legos/scale models, and sometimes they like to design their own buildings.

Star

-Modded guns are the ultimate sign of a high ranking unit. They can get favors out of lower ranking unit by offering to lend them.

-They get kinda overprotective with those they care about

-They walk as is they were marching, but more casual

-They a high ranking unit gets decommissioned, their belongings get passed on according to their order on the hierarchy

Storch

-They're the first ones to wake up so they have all the baths for them. They love the feeling of running water.

-They use lots of mythology analogies when talking. Almost nobody else gets it.

-In a modern setting, they would be the ones to consume media inspired by mythology, only to nitpick on every single detail that isn't accurate.

-They always walk like they're in a hurry/angrily on their way to beat someone (very fast, really big steps)

-They have a naturally loud voice and a resting bitch face, which makes them more intimidating even when they're just chilling.

Adler

-He always looks serious, and takes himself very seriously.

-He knows that big part of the facility dislikes him, but as long as they comply to orders he doesn't really mind.

-His favorite types of fetish objects are puzzles/things that carry a mystery to them, or stationary.

-He writes a lot, for everything and nothing.

-The only reason you should have two Adlers working together is if a facility is really big, and keep them as separate as possible. Otherwise you have these two replikas passively getting at each other's throats.

-The attachment Adlers have with Falkes doesn't necessarily have to be romantic. They could also the sibling, friend or mentor figures (the emotional dependency is still there tho, and relies a lot on her attention and approval).

-In that same sense, they get attached to one particular Falke, so if a Falke needs to get decommissioned, so does her Adler because if not, the man grieves and shit starts going down.

Falke

- At first sight she seems like a regular polite unit, but she carries a menacing/lowkey eldritch aura. Whatever Makima and Tomie have going on, but not necessarily evil.

-She is great with words, and has good leadership skills.

-Her halo and arrows are made out of pure light.

-She knows everything that goes down on the facility, but turns a blind eye unless things starts to cause trouble or get on the way of productivity.

-She uses her bioresonance for mundane activities, both for pure convenience and as a flex/display of dominance.

-Since they're bioresonant prototypes, they get persona degradation very easily, but since their triggers aren't really known, they're really good at hiding it/whipping the memories of those that realize it.

-I like to think that her gestalt (the daughter of the Great Revolutionary) didn't really have a say regarding her situation, as much as being the main propaganda piece for the Eusan Nation. As such, while being a good leader, she gets anxious because it's not only those directly under her command who get affected if the makes a mistake, but the image of the Nation as a whole. However she's good at not showing weakness, at that trait gets inherited to Falke units as well.

[kalkori]

ok regretevator fandom i know its "canon" that fleshcousins are only sentient and not sapient but when you look at the dialogue of fleshcousins it seems to say the opposite.

fleshcousins can and will react to being referred to negatively

not only in this instance with gnarpy does fleshcousin argue with gnarpy, it also emphasizes words like how someone irritated would. like hello?

chat fleshcousin literally tells lampert to kill himself after being insulted. there is no conversation elsewhere where fleshcousin gets told to kill itself to learn this. also before the threat it tries to insult lampert. thats not a parrot thats a very insulted and very salty creature.

in the first interaction with spud, the fleshcousin seems to be talking to itself and then appears to get irritated when spud is like "wow i could have ended up like you guys"

in the second interaction with spud, it seems to actually correct him and then, to me, appears to do its equivalent of an irritated grunt when spud is like "you're just like a personal diary!!"

the above is more tangentially related but fleshcousin seems to not only be genuinely irritated by unpleasant's existence, but then proceeds to also use language of others that it has learned. i find it interesting that specifically gnarpy and infected are used here, as gnarpy is the one who has the most irritated dialogue to learn from, and infected is the most related to unpleasant

2. it knows how to communicate discomfort/pain

ok i know this sounds weird but trust me. in most animals that can be trained to use words to communicate, it often takes A WHILE for them to accurately use language to mention pain. normally they learn stuff for things like food first.

for this one, the second and third line are my focus. the first one is pretty clear in the distaste for the snowball. however, the third line reveals not only a negative reaction, but trying to joke about it. "kb what is the joke" well you see my non-fleshcousin-brained friend, the joke is [as best translated as possible] "is it already winter?"

the flash beacon is what we're really here for though. not only can it associate bright, painful light to something it already knows, it A: communicates that it hurts and B: is able to recognize that you control it and asks you to stop hurting it

the reason why that is Huge is that most animals don't as for you to stop. they either run away or fight. when they ask for things to stop, most commonly its with another animal in the same species with their (body) language.

fleshcousin asks for you to stop in YOUR language!! thats huge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3. fleshcousins can recollect people and inform others about them‚ and can potentially observe other peoples relationships

first off, fleshcousin tells mark that wallter misses him. [also, it appears it finds it funny that mark censors itself but that might just be me]

in this one, fleshcousin tells wallter that mark misses him and just how much he does, as well!!!! like hello thats crazy!!

this one has fleshcousin describe its own relationship with bive and scary mike, which honestly makes me want to bawl my eyes out. like it calls her and mike friends. i literally will cry forever about this

but the most interesting thing fleshcousin mentions multiple times...

IS HOW OFTEN IT MENTIONS FOLLY, AND SOMETIMES MIMICS HER?!

the last one under petal cone references folly's laugh

this one might be a stretch but i think this idle is referencing folly's forest, the "barn" being the forest and "the wrongs" referencing how closely related folly's deal is to malice

when you look at its folly interactions it seems VERY interested in folly

we're mentioning the farm again

we're just straight up describing folly here. hello!!

now listen any other time i'd call it a stretch but its talking to wallter, who it knows the relationships of. folly is heavily associated with that gigantic tree. pillows are associated with sleep. this has to be at least a red herring. like. chat.

theres more but this is already getting too long. chat fleshcousins are sapient if you look at the actual writing, whether intended or not!!

[coquelicoq]

Il y a les nuits où il se réveille d'un cauchemar, le regard frénétique, les poings serrant les draps, soufflant à perdre haleine. Ces nuits-là elle l'étreint ; elle fait de petites bises sur son crâne ; avec son pouce elle caresse sa nuque couverte de sueur, tendue et tremblante. Quand il revient à lui-même, elle le chevauche, appuyant fort sur son corps avec tout son poids ; elle prend son visage entre ses deux mains ; elle pousse son front contre le sien, en répétant : "T'es à moi, à moi, à moi, à moi," jusqu'à ce qu'elle voie la chaleur dans son regard, jusqu'à ce qu'elle sente la réponse de son corps sous elle.

Elle le nique vigoureusement, ces nuits-là. Elle mord son épaule sans qu'il doive lui en demander. Elle le fait crier son nom à elle, pour l'empêcher de crier ceux de ses proches perdus. En lui coupant le souffler par amour, elle écrase le souvenir de ce qui l’a fait par terreur. Leur sueur s'entremêle, le stabilisant, le liant au présent, à ce lieu, à elle. Quand il se rendort, épuisé, des fourmis dans les membres, son cœur bat fort à cause de leur amour, leur amour et rien d'autre.

Dans la paix qui suit, elle passe les doigts le long des balafres sur le dos de son bien-aimé, écoute son haleine qui s'équilibre, se concentre sur sa propre sueur pendant qu'elle s'évapore dans l'air frais de la nuit.

[kylewalker-peters]

Apparently Russian GCSE was piss easy to make up for having to learn the alphabet, friend of mine in the year between us took it and said it was literally fine

see this is why we needed to know each other when i was in yr 7 and trying to pick my bloody option. could have saved those language teachers years of marking my work and using up all their red pen correcting where i'd used french and spanish words as though they were one language

[insomniaticvoids]

I honestly am thinking on this again as someone with a major speech impediment but wow people are assholes over not being able to pronounce names. Especially European words or names.

TLDR: don't be an ass to people with speech impediments they are trying don't be an asshole to someone trying.

I personally cannot speak most sounds that require harsh rolling or accented notes. Physically cannot. So learning new words or yet alone speaking them is a geniunly painful thing cause everyone else seems to be able to do those things sort of thing.

I actually love katakanization of names and the sort for that reason since it gives me a spring board to try and pronounce it in English. (Also I can in fact speak Japanese a bit smoother than English due to my speech issues)

But it does baffle me the amount of mockery and rudeness people have over me not being able to pronounce the name of something right. Literally the most damning thing besides me having seizures from a piece of media is if people are rude about me trying to talk about it. If I'm passionate about it I don't care but if I'm engaging with someone else and I say something and your response is to derail the full conversation to mock my issue of saying something I'm not going to want to discuss it again.

Like sorry I can't say Mc white boys blorbos name I can't even roll my letters yet alone say a good chunk without lisping the full word or 15 pause breaks for the word.

[braceletofteeth]

I'm so thankful to Thailand for introducing gender neutral honorifics to my vocabulary.

It feels sooo nice to see nonbinary mutuals in my notes and go "Phiiiiiii~!!☺🥰" with the same respect and fondness I'd call others by korean honorifics (that are very gender specific).

[yume-fanfare]

lesson learned: the hardest part of learning new languages is Not new letters. it is not the difficult words. the hardest part are the single digit letter words that appears in every sentence because they are INTEGRAL to the grammar but their usage is so ingrained into native speakers that none of them have even thought about why the grammar works like that and can't explain it at all, and bilingual people have so much trouble explaining it because there is no equivalent

oh i get it yeaaa 😔

[chryzure-archive]

true growth is going back and outlining the nano project i tried to do 4 years ago but w an improved storyline + a more believable devolution of chrysi’s mental state and how it eventually twists into her getting possessed

[arolesbianism]

Some Brute doodles plus a bonus Button

[ostensiblyfunctional]

Okay so I recently reread all the Magus of the Library books I own and something about the Kadoe niggled at the corner of my brain that now permanently and inexplicably owned by Star Wars. Such as the fact that the Kadoe widely use masks, but not all of them, and of the ones that do, the only ones that can see their face are their family or spouse. And also, it is highly inappropriate for others to refer to a Kadoe by their given name. And also, but less relevantly, the Kadoe used to have a prolific empire, and were ostensibly very good at fighting considering that their contribution to the Seminal Scripts is a trio of grimoires that are apparently the most terrifying in all of history, before the empire fell to the Rakta.

Now, I dunno about you, but that sounds like a Star Wars group of people who are sworn to never reveal their face to anyone other than family, who restrict use of their personal name, and who used to have an empire before it fell. And are also really good at fighting.

Also, uh. Well. Haupi and Jedi and systematic massacre of an entire people. Y'know. Some parallels could be drawn there. And also maybe between Sith Lords, the Emissary of Wormwood, and great evils making things worse for everyone everywhere.

All I'm saying is that it wouldn't feel out of place if some Kadoe—maybe a Tass or Sooni or whatever subclassification is listed in the books—who comes from a highly traditional, secretive sect who obscure their names and bodies in addition to their faces, coming across some long-lived yet still childlike remnant of the Haupi, and being tasked with returning this child to whatever of their people is left.

[lazerswordweilder]

“Well of course there’s the basic power set that almost the entire species has, y’know, flight, invisibility, intangibility, being able to sense when another one of our species is near, enchanted strength and hearing, an incredibly fast healing factor to anything injuries not made by our own species or specifically made to harm us, being able to speak and understand ghost speak and any other dead languages, not needing to breathe and in most cases (but not mine) this applies to most other human needs. And then there are the more unique powers which I have and (depending on the power) others have too, like being able to withstand sub-zero temperatures, ectoblasts, ice, telekinesis, ghostly wail, being able to open portals to the infinite realms, basic shapeshifting or at least being able to change my body proportions and bones- you look scared, do, do you want me to keep going?”

“”

“What?”

“Dude, that is like, Kryptonian levels of power.”

“More actually, we did a test.”

“You’ve fought Superman?!”

“There was a brief incident with Pariah Dark. Superman lost the incident.”

“But you said that Pariah Dark was the ghost king so that isn’t fair for the entire species let alone you right, you said you were the equivalent of a newborn in age standards.”

“I beat Pariah Dark.”

“You are a scary level of powerful.”

[theworldgate]

I have to explain what is going on in the UK, because it is absurd.

So, this is Gary Lineker:

He's known for a fair few things over here. He was a very good (association) footballer, playing for England in the 1986 and 1990 World Cups, winning the Golden Boot in 1986, and managing to never get a single yellow card in his playing career. He played for Leicester City, Everton, Barcelona, and Tottenham, before finishing his career in Japan. But if you aren't in your mid 30s, you probably know actually know him him for a couple of other things. The first is the role of spokesman for another Leicester icon, Walkers Crisps (which are sort of equivalent to Lays, but hit different), as pictured above. Despite being a notably clean player, he used to play a cheeky serial crisp thief. I don't think he's done that for well over a decade, but his ads were on the telly a lot when I was a kid and it's a bit like learning that the hamburglar was an incredibly clean (American) football player or something.

The second thing Gary is widely known for is having presented Match of the Day, the big football program on the BBC, the sort-of state broadcaster, since 1999. He is, incidentally, very well paid for this (though with a consensus that he could get even more if he went to one of the non-free-to-view broadcasters because he is very good at the job). He also has a twitter account. And political opinions. So, the UK government has got itself dead set upon doing heinous stuff that will totally somehow work to prevent people who want to come to the UK making the perilous crossing of the Channel (between England and France). By heinous, I mean "openly advertise that they won't attempt to protect victims of modern slavery" stuff. It's very obviously using a legal hammer to victimise a marginalised group of people in order to win votes. And, uh, I should clarify that by "legal" I mean "using the passage of laws" - the policy is, in addition to all the other ways it's awful, probably incompatible with the Human Rights Act and the UK's international law obligations. Gary, top lad that he is, objected to this. On Tuesday 7th March, he made a quote Tweet of a video of the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, bigging up the policy, he wrote "Good heavens, this is beyond awful.". This got a bunch of backlash from extremely right-wingers, and then he made the tweet that really got him in trouble (with right-wingers): "There is no huge influx. We take far fewer refugees than other major European countries. This is just an immeasurably cruel policy directed at the most vulnerable people in language that is not dissimilar to that used by Germany in the 30s, and I’m out of order?".

Now, I am not actually subjecting myself to watching a video of Suella Braverman bigging up a cruel policy to say whether the specific comparison of the language to 1930s Germany is accurate. But needless to say, Ms Braverman was amongst the many figures on the right of UK politics objecting to Gary's rhetoric. And here's the part where a fact about the BBC comes in: it is nominally neutral and impartial (and so, of course, is routinely accused of bias from all sides but particularly the right-wing), and has something of a code for its contributors to this effect. Now, that code has previously been applied to Gary Lineker, over a comment about whether governing Conservative Party would hand back donations from figures linked to the Russian regime. But it generally hasn't been applied too strongly to people like Gary, whose roles have nothing to do with politics (such as presenting a "here's what happened on the footie today" show), on the basis that, well, their roles have nothing to do with politics. However, when directly asked about whether the BBC should punish Gary Lineker for his tweets, government figures basically went "well, that's a them problem". But a couple of days passed, and it seemed like Gary's approach of "standing his ground because he did nothing wrong" was working and everything would die down. He was set to get 'a talking to' but not much more than that. The Conservative right, after all their fire and fury earlier, had gotten bored and moved onto something else. And then, on Friday 10th March, the BBC announced that he would be suspended from hosting Match of the Day this weekend. But it could still go ahead, because there are, like, other hosts! Except, well, funnily enough, when you take a beloved figure off air, for making a fairly anodyne tweet, no one wants to be the scab who actually takes up the role of replacing him. Gary's two co-hosts, Alan Shearer and Ian Wright, said that they would not appear without him. People who (co-)host Match of the Day on other days followed suit. The net result is that Match of the Day is currently set to air without hosts, BBC commentary, or global feed commentary. And the solidarity shown to Gary Lineker, over what is very flagrantly actual cancel culture and an attack on freedom of speech (the logic implied is that institutional impartiality requires that no one say anything too critical of the government ever), has continued to grow. The BBC has pretty much been unable to run pretty much any live sports content today, and has resorted to raiding the BBC Sounds archive to fill the sports radio channel. And, as of 17:30 on Saturday 11th March, the situation shows no signs of improvement, though some are calling for the Chairman Richard Sharp, who is separately facing corruption allegations, to resign (yes I linked to the BBC itself there, there is nothing, nothing, the BBC loves more than going into great detail about how much the BBC sucks).

[silentwalrus1]

I like to think about what if the Kaminoans just, fucked all the way up and made the clones telepaths on purpose.

Kamino is in the Rishi maze, the equivalent of total buttfuck nowhere. This is like a cattle processing plant in rural Montana manufacturing an order for Shenzhen as outlined by a third party intermediary from Monaco who keeps contact with neither production nor “client” and nobody’s first language is Basic. Jedi are like, totally psychic right? Right. Psychic army for psychic clients, sounds right, checks out. There are whole ass telepathic alien species out there, some of which are also Jedi. Why would they want NON-psychic clones. Get it done, Tally Ho or Nala Says or whatever her name is. Chop chop.

Cue like seven years into production and the Kaminoan project leads are starting to get some… inklings…. that maybe some of the deliverable specs were perhaps not so much well-researched as based off cross-galactic hearsay some underpaid analysts pulled off space reddit. This is a business, okay? You’re not gonna make profit manufacturing two million units of fucking anything if you treat it like a luxury product, but especially not if the product has goddamn childhood development & socialization needs. Of fucking course some shit maybe slipped through the cracks. What are we supposed to fucking do now, Lama goddamn Sue sir, tell the Jedi or the pickled fucking Sith that oopsie woopsie, we got the specs wrong half a decade in and have to start over again?

No. No we are not. We are going to lie our fucking semi-aquatic asses off, is what we’re gonna do, and so will you clones if you know what’s good for you. NONE of you are fucking psychic, and you never were. Got that? Understood?

Fast forward to Jedi pickup D-Day and every time anyone with a lightsaber gets within aural biosystem of choice distance the clones immediately start loudly and dutifully Having Conversations.

Hello Commander Sir, It Is I, Trooper McSoldierClone, What A Weather It Is Today, Ha Ha? Over. Yes Indeed McTrooper One Two Three Four, I Am Agree, Now Here Is An Order To Follow Which I Am Vociferously Giving You, Acknowledge Orally, Over. Every clone making rock-hard sweating eye contact like don’t fuck it up as they mentally chant encouragement and script notes and jeering performance feedback at each other. Cadets trooping to fucking speech practice to learn speaking out loud with all the enthusiasm and skill of the average white suburban Floridian teenager taking their fifth mandatory Spanish 1 class. The jedi are like damn these poor asylum grown freaks are so unsocialized and uncomfortable around us, Their Owners, this is so tragic and horrid and unfortunate and meanwhile every clone standing silently in formation is mentally spectating the 400-person telepathic tetris team sport they invented with the same vibes as a football world cup back alley street party complete with official & unofficial betting pools and expert panel commentary

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* How to train your pet Human pt. 3 (Yandere!Alien x GN!Reader)

CW: Dub-con, mild psychological distress, mind break, dead dove fic

Part 1, part 2

Kirtch slumped over his friend's standing chair, miserable and mopey.

A tall creature, taller than even Kirtch, sighed dramatically, sauntering around their depressed friend with a smaller horned being crawling behind them.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong." Kirtch whined pathetically in Jaudna's native tongue. Jaudna made a gurgling sound with the soft spot on their head, the closest human equivalent being someone rolling their eyes. They sprawled across their lounging seat, motioning for their pet to stay on his knees.

"I'll tell you exactly what you've done wrong. You pampered them too much."

"I punish them!"

"You punished them for their escape attempt. That was it. You've allowed your pet to test your authority in plenty of ways after that."

The man on his knees pleaded with his eyes to be let up, but stayed perfectly still, like he wasn't alive. Kirtch noted Jaudna's pet's demeanor with discomfort. That discomfort only lasted until he imagined (Reader) in that same position, looking up at him with their large dewy eyes, waiting so patiently to be held by him... his discomfort was replaced by jealousy.

"You don't understand, (Reader's) such a sweet little pet, and whenever they struggle they're so cute about it. I just can't understand why they aren't happy."

"Humans' minds are incredibly flawed. According to the few psychological texts I have gotten my claws on over the years, their memory is not set in stone like ours, it is fickle and easily manipulated. One of my books referenced a case in the nation called 'The United States of America' where nearly the entire country fell into panic over an imaginary evil, because a few doctors used a phoney science called 'hypnotism', a practice they believed could help recover forgotten memories, on a bunch of children, but accidentally implanted false memories of abuse, leaving the children traumatized, believing that they had been victims of a horrific occult."

Kirtch looked to his good friend nervously. "Are you implying I do something nefarious to my pet's mind?"

"No, I'm showcasing an example of how stupidly easy it should be to train your pet to love you." They tossed a book into Kirtch's hands, the cover printed with a photograph of a wild looking man, with fluffy hair and dark, hateful eyes. "Hypnotism isn't the only creative way humans have learned to reprogram each other."

Kirtch almost threw the book back, but saw Jaudna's unnamed pet still sitting so patiently for his master, and the pain in his body where his heart may have been throbbed again. "Thank you.. Jaudna."

(Reader) had waited for what they assumed to be well over an Earth day, alone in Kirtch's quarters, waiting for his return. The only company they received were the employees who brought their meals, speaking down at them in a language they didn't know, but could understand the disgust. It had been over a month since their fight with Kirtch. Every day since had been nothing but hell, feeling like their heart had been ripped out, they laid in their bed cage, only moving when necessary, allowing themselves to hide away inside their own mind.

The main door opened again, and (Reader) could hear Kirtch's long, graceful steps as he passed through the study and into the bedroom. "(Reader)? Are you still in bed?"

In an act of defiance, (Reader) kept their mouth shut, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders. But it was of little use, as Kirtch easily lifted their purposefully dead weighted body out of the bed.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long, pet, but I had to see an old friend for advice." He carried (Reader) back to his desk, sitting them in his lap, fighting to hold them upright as they flopped about limply. "(Reader), please sit up so I can take off your shirt."

He began working on the wrists, the intricate metal cuffs with multiple buttons that almost acted like locks, and (Reader) subtly straightened their back to give him better access to the neck corset thing, thankful to finally have it off for a couple hours at least. (Reader) had grown to find it somewhat elegant the past few months, but it still was an incredible pain in the ass.

Feeling the air on their neck was bliss, and (Reader) immediately ran their fingers over their skin. (Reader) breathed a deep sigh, relaxing their body unintentionally. But almost as soon as their hands left their throat, a new collar was latched into place, a loud mechanism clicking as it tightened, stabbing the back of their neck with what felt like a fixed needle.

(Reader) cried out in pain, sprawling out their limbs on reflex, pushing themselves out of Kirtch's embrace and onto the floor, lying naked on their knees as they clawed at the collar, desperate to relieve the pain.

"What?? Why?" Their voice was barely audible through their sobs.

"I'm so sorry my pet, the pain will end soon, wait-" Kirtch pushed a button on what looked like a remote, and (Reader) could physically feel the rush of liquid enter their body, then the pain lightened, leaving (Reader) almost euphoric in it's absence.

"What is this? Why did you do this?" Betrayal laced their tone, and Kirtch looked almost on the verge of tears, but he stood still, refusing his urge to scoop up his little pet and beg for forgiveness.

"I know now that I didn't train you correctly, and for that I am sorry. I've given you too much leeway, and that is why you've been so unhappy." He took a ragged breath, thumbing the controller as he thought out his words. "I didn't want to do this, but I care about your happiness. This is for the best."

"So you put a shock collar on me?" (Reader) asked incredulously, spitting venom.

"No, nothing barbaric like that!" Kirtch looked hurt, flinching as he almost dropped onto his knees to comfort (Reader). "I just need to convince you that you're happy here with me, just as I did the first night you were here, to help you release your stress."

(Reader) remembered the shot he gave them, that first night when Kirtch used a toy to get them off, the hormones he artificially added to their body to make them feel pleasure, and then thought about the pain in the back of their neck. The color drained from their face. There were only two options; plead or double down.

"You can manipulate me all you like, I'll never be happy here." A tear escaped as (Reader) transformed their hurt into anger. "I deserve someone who will love me, not as a pet, but as an equal. Because I am a human fucking being. And we have partnerships. We don't jack off our pets, we do not love our pets like we love the people we have sex with, because that- that is not okay! Why did you.." (Reader) couldn't stop themselves from crying, looking up to try to at least slow the waterworks.

The silence between them was loud. (Reader) turned away, wiping away their snot with their bare arms.

"Pet, noun; a domestic or tamed animal kept for companionship or pleasure. Adjective; denoting a thing that one devotes special attention to or feels particularly strongly about." (Reader) looked up, horrified. "Your's may not be my first language, but I feel I had a pretty decent grasp on my understanding of what a pet is."

Kirtch placed a hand over his face to hide his expression.

"You'll be happier once this is all over. I promise."

"You son of a-!" (Reader) couldn't finish their sentence, more fluid passed into their spine, followed by an immediate sense of emptiness. Extreme anxiety flooded their body, causing severe stomach pain almost instantly. They collapsed, holding onto their midsection, their bare skin clammy. "What? Why?"

"No more talking back to me, pet." Kirtch kept his voice steady.

(Reader) cried out, rapidly becoming exhausted from heavy nothingness filling their body. "Please.. stop.."

Kirtch nodded, appearing relieved. He pushed another button, and the emptiness ebbed away, leaving (Reader) numb.

"I don't understand why you're doing this." (Reader) weakly grumbled, too tired to pick themselves up.

"Because I want you to be happy."

"I'll never be happy with you."

"Why?"

"Because! I deserve to be loved!"

"I love you-"

"Fucking liar." (Reader) snarled, knowing that this would cause them to be punished again, but needing to get in the last word. Kirtch looked so miserable, so crushed by (Reader's) words, but they felt vindicated by his pain. They needed to twist the knife deeper.

He smiled, so sadly, and grabbed a blanket, bending onto one knee as he covered his pet. "I love you, (Reader)."

Their heart clenched, and their face flushed. Immediately they searched his hands for the remote. "S-stop that."

"I love you."

Chemicals pumped into their neck, making (Reader) feverish and causing their thighs to ache. Their breath hitched, and tears of betrayal escaped. "I hate you."

"I know."

More pain gripped their throat, regret causing physical discomfort. "Why are you doing this?"

His smooth shelled fingers caressed their jaw, tenderly cradling (Reader's) face as though he needed them. Kirtch's touch sent shivers across (Reader's) skin, and they couldn't tell if it was because of the collar or their loneliness, but they wanted to pull him closer, make him touch them more.

"I will live for much longer than you. I will watch you grown old, and die. Even then, I will still love you. You are the most incredible creature I've ever met. I don't mind if you push me away, and slap at me. I just want you to be happy, at least most of the time." His head grew closer, his hardened face almost brushing (Reader's). "Let me make you happy."

'I need to fight back. Make him pay! I'm practically a slave! He bought me! I'll never see my family again because of him!'

(Reader) leaned forward, mind melting through their ears from the intense heat, and smashed their lips onto where his should have been.

All rational thoughts were drowned out by the intense need. They needed him, his love. (Reader) was aware of the sound of buttons clicking, but they couldn't stop, crawling onto Kirtch's body, feeling the edges of his joints scraping their back as his hands hungrily roamed their body, wanting to touch everything.

They would have felt ashamed, knowing how aroused they were, their exposed body touching Kirtch's stomach. Sweat was clinging to (Reader's) skin, and their eyes drooped stupidly. The only thing they could think of was relieving themselves, and wanting to see Kirtch relieved as well.

"Are you going to fuck me?" (Reader) whined between wet kisses, drunk on his touches.

"I will, if you want me to."

Their mood shifted, frustration beginning to surface again. "No. If you love me, wouldn't you want me?"

Kirtch sighed, fiddling with the remote behind (Reader's) back. "I do not have the same nervous system as humans do. We only engage in sexual acts for the purpose of procreation."

Shame shocked (Reader), sobering them up instantly. "Oh. I- I am so sorry." (Reader) moved to get off of Kirtch, but was held in place by the much stronger being.

"I will, to make you happy."

"No, I'm sorry! It won't make me happy knowing you aren't feeling good. I'm-I'm sorry, please let me go."

Kirtch pressed the button again, watching his pet's face darken and their mouth go from frightened to slack jawed. "Knowing you are feeling pleasure, from me, and only me, will bring me more joy than I can express." His cloak was ripped away, revealing his gorgeously colored exoskeleton. Kirtch gripped (Reader's) face tighter, forcing his blue tongue deep into their mouth, bursting with pride at the sounds (Reader) was making.

"What do you want me to do?" Kirtch asked, not intending on sounding like he was teasing them, but Kirtch craved the sound of their voice begging him.

"Please.." (Reader) swallowed their drool, feeling the hormones pumping into their brain, but too horny to care. "Please fuck me."

The spot on his pelvis where a human's genitals would be split open and a long, slimy cock revealed itself, growing behind (Reader's) back to a horrifying size. (Reader) only became aware of his erection when it fell forward, slapping against (Reader's) ass and lower back. In their intoxicated state, they turned back to look at what had suddenly touched them, and their eyes grew large in surprise. "Is that..? That's too big..."

Off balance and tipsy, (Reader) turned around, still sitting on Kirtch's abdomen, so that they were facing his exposed dick, and touched it experimentally. It was ridiculously huge, but because of the hormones being injected into (Reader's) neck, they were ravenous, using both hands to pump up and down on the shaft as they stuck the thin tipped head into their mouth, tasting Kirtch passionately. Kirtch was beyond elated, watching his precious pet so needy for him.

Kirtch picked (Reader) up, moaning at the popping sound as he pulled their mouth away from his body, seeing nothing but love in (Reader's) eyes as he spun them back to face him, and slowly began lowering (Reader) onto his naturally lubricated member. "Keep looking at me."

(Reader's) mind was hazy, and it felt like they were about to die, saliva and alien fluids leaking out their mouth and down their chin. Their internal voice had gone silent, the amount of tampering that had been done to their brain left (Reader) devoid of rational thought and intellect. "Yes sir." They barely got the words out as Kirtch entered their body, sliding into their needy little hole easily and without resistance, ramming himself in so their pelvis smacked into his shell with a wet plop, bringing (Reader) to a climax just from entering.

"Smile for me, pet." Kirtch cooed joyfully, loving how (Reader's) body spasmed, before slowly lifting them up, revealing the trail of their combined wetness stretching between their reproductive organs.

(Reader) smiled, reacting on autopilot as they rode out their orgasm, practically biting off their tongue when their sensitive body connected with Kirtch's again. "Ahhh, I already came! Stop!!" Their words cried for relief, however their voice and smile demanded more. It was too much, and (Reader) did want a break, but it also felt amazing, and that dirty little part of themselves that was desperate for love needed their body to be abused.

Kirtch bounced (Reader) on his cock, fucking them like a toy, regretting that he didn't have a camera rolling to capture just how adorable his pet was in his hands. "Look at how happy you are, pet! Don't you want to be this happy all the time? Don't you always want to be happy, with me?"

Kirtch greedily pushed the button again, peppering (Reader) with kisses as they came again, their sticky juices splattering on his stomach. The squelching sound of (Reader's) bruising body getting fucked by the hard as steel monster beneath them was music to Kirtch's ears. He had, embarrassingly, read the book his friend had lent him, and knew now how humans used pleasure to keep brainwashed people by their side. But it wasn't just pleasure, it was that feeling of connection. He had thought about what (Reader) had said, that humans don't jack off their pets, and that made sense, for animals that did not share the same level of intelligence as an adult human. What (Reader) needed, was to feel equal, to feel like they weren't just a pet, but a partner. So how would they feel, if Kirtch ejaculated so deep into their body they were still excreting his cum weeks later?

"I'm going to mark you as mine, (Reader)." It was a lie, his species did no such thing, but the look of unbridled joy on (Reader's) cross eyed face, the loopy smile that twitched as tears poured down to their chest, was a sight that made it worth lying.

"Are you cumming? Are you cumming in me?" (Reader) slurred, barely holding themselves upright in Kirtch's grasp.

"If you promise to be a good little pet." Kirtch could hold out for as long as needed. His species did not have sex for pleasure, so there was no sense of urgency when they needed to release. He could have continued going for hours, if he hadn't overdone it with the collar. (Reader) was on the verge of passing out.

"I promise! I promise to be a good pet! I promise!" (Reader) exclaimed, colliding their lips back onto Kirtch's as a string of hot sperm shot up into (Reader's) body, a fluid so thick it was practically glue, leaving (Reader) feeling physically full. Kirtch couldn't help but push the button again, seeing his pet overflow with adoration for him.

"I love you, (Reader), I really really do."

Kirtch whispered sweet nothing's into his pet's ear as they passed out, then carried them to his bed, tucking in their swollen body, not minding the mess. (Reader) really was the most beautiful and adorable little pet in the entire universe. He doubt that he would ever get another pet after (Reader) was gone. He sat on the floor, rubbing circles into their tear stained cheeks, smiling contently.

Of course, the next day Kirtch would have to use the collar, showing (Reader) how bad they truly felt inside when they refused to get out of bed, and while it was awful making them cry when they tried to refuse to eat, it was for the best. Kirtch knew it wouldn't take long for (Reader) to graduate from needing their collar, and that soon they would always be by his side, begging him to pick them up and play with them. It didn't matter whether (Reader) needed cuddles or needed to be filled with his seed, Kirtch would overuse that remote until they desired his touch all the time.

He didn't mind the glassy, doll like glaze to their eyes, the change in their speech, the way they began crying whenever it looked like Kirtch was unhappy, or how they stopped pushing him away. After months of flushing their system with artificial love, Kirtch knew that his pet was happy with him. And that was all that mattered.

[directactionforhope]

"Starting this month [June 2024], thousands of young people will begin doing climate-related work around the West as part of a new service-based federal jobs program, the American Climate Corps, or ACC. The jobs they do will vary, from wildland firefighters and “lawn busters” to urban farm fellows and traditional ecological knowledge stewards. Some will work on food security or energy conservation in cities, while others will tackle invasive species and stream restoration on public land. 

The Climate Corps was modeled on Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corps, with the goal of eventually creating tens of thousands of jobs while simultaneously addressing the impacts of climate change. 

Applications were released on Earth Day, and Maggie Thomas, President Joe Biden’s special assistant on climate, told High Country News that the program’s website has already had hundreds of thousands of views. Since its launch, nearly 250 jobs across the West have been posted, accounting for more than half of all the listed ACC positions. 

“Obviously, the West is facing tremendous impacts of climate change,” Thomas said. “It’s changing faster than many other parts of the country. If you look at wildfire, if you look at extreme heat, there are so many impacts. I think that there’s a huge role for the American Climate Corps to be tackling those crises.”  

Most of the current positions are staffed through state or nonprofit entities, such as the Montana Conservation Corps or Great Basin Institute, many of which work in partnership with federal agencies that manage public lands across the West. In New Mexico, for example, members of Conservation Legacy’s Ecological Monitoring Crew will help the Bureau of Land Management collect soil and vegetation data. In Oregon, young people will join the U.S. Department of Agriculture, working in firefighting, fuel reduction and timber management in national forests. 

New jobs are being added regularly. Deadlines for summer positions have largely passed, but new postings for hundreds more positions are due later this year or on a rolling basis, such as the Working Lands Program, which is focused on “climate-smart agriculture.”  ...

On the ACC website, applicants can sort jobs by state, work environment and focus area, such as “Indigenous knowledge reclamation” or “food waste reduction.” Job descriptions include an hourly pay equivalent — some corps jobs pay weekly or term-based stipends instead of an hourly wage — and benefits. The site is fairly user-friendly, in part owing to suggestions made by the young people who participated in the ACC listening sessions earlier this year...

The sessions helped determine other priorities as well, Thomas said, including creating good-paying jobs that could lead to long-term careers, as well as alignment with the president’s Justice40 initiative, which mandates that at least 40% of federal climate funds must go to marginalized communities that are disproportionately impacted by climate change and pollution. 

High Country News found that 30% of jobs listed across the West have explicit justice and equity language, from affordable housing in low-income communities to Indigenous knowledge and cultural reclamation for Native youth...

While the administration aims for all positions to pay at least $15 an hour, the lowest-paid position in the West is currently listed at $11 an hour. Benefits also vary widely, though most include an education benefit, and, in some cases, health care, child care and housing. 

All corps members will have access to pre-apprenticeship curriculum through the North America’s Building Trades Union. Matthew Mayers, director of the Green Workers Alliance, called this an important step for young people who want to pursue union jobs in renewable energy. Some members will also be eligible for the federal pathways program, which was recently expanded to increase opportunities for permanent positions in the federal government...

 “To think that there will be young people in every community across the country working on climate solutions and really being equipped with the tools they need to succeed in the workforce of the future,” Thomas said, “to me, that is going to be an incredible thing to see.”"

-via High Country News, June 6, 2024

--

Note: You can browse Climate Corps job postings here, on the Climate Corps website. There are currently 314 jobs posted at time of writing!

Also, it says the goal is to pay at least $15 an hour for all jobs (not 100% meeting that goal rn), but lots of postings pay higher than that, including some over $20/hour!!