#alien : source flags

[alienfreakk]

⠀⠀⠀♡ SOURCE ROYALTY ♡

❥ : a flag for system members who are sourced from some kind of royalty.

— requested by : 🦊 anon

— not a gender, tags are for reach

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(pro) endos dni

[reveryfics]

Doing this Anon but you know who it is hehehe

Bucky with a ftm reader with some fluff before some sick nasty smut? Thinking some hurt/comfort where Bucky talks about how he doesn’t know exactly how it feels but knows what it’s like to not feel like your body is your own. Then he comforts you by showing you he doesn’t see you as anything less then HIS man

Granite

Bucky Barnes x FtM Reader

Summary: Bucky recognizes the way you're looking at yourself – it's a look he's intimately familiar with. Bucky's instinct is to draw you in, offering a intimate sense of security and support to help you navigate through it.

A/N: You nasty dog, I'm so excited for this. You know why it's titled this.

TW: Slight angst - Hurt/Comfort - Dysphoria - Smut - Bottom reader - Pre-op reader - Females DNI - Minors DNI

The rain outside the towering glass of Avengers Tower was a hushed symphony, each drop a tiny drumbeat against the immense windows. Heavy, swollen clouds wept a torrent upon the world, shrouding the city in a melancholic gray. Inside, the vast room held its breath, the silence broken only by the insistent rhythm of the downpour. A single table lamp cast a small, intimate circle of light, a fragile beacon in the deepening gloom. Within its glow stood a tall mirror, its reflective surface a silent judge. Scattered on the floor around it, a chaotic landscape of discarded clothing lay like fallen flags.

But the light did more than just reveal the disarray; it relentlessly showcased the reflection staring back – a stark embodiment of everything you fought to ignore. The gentle curve of your stomach, a constant source of unease, was highlighted with cruel clarity. The soft line of your jaw, a feature that felt alien, seemed amplified in the dimness. And beneath it all, the lamp seemed to pierce through to the hollow ache that resided deep within, a persistent emptiness that no amount of striving could ever truly fill.

Your own skin felt like a hostile landscape, each inch a painful reminder of what you wished to shed. Your body screamed its unwanted truths, every contour and shadow a taunt. Even the tight, constricting fabric of the binder couldn't fully conceal the prominence of your chest, each breath sending a dull, persistent throb through your ribs, a physical manifestation of the profound discomfort that settled in your soul. The mirror held you captive, a silent witness to the war waged within, the battle between the self you were and the self you yearned to be.

Bucky stood framed in the doorway, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the muted light of the hallway. His arms were crossed over his chest, the metallic sheen of his prosthetic catching the faint light as his gaze met yours in the mirror's reflection. He knew that look in your eyes, the raw, undisguised hatred for the image staring back, the visceral disgust for a version of yourself that felt fundamentally wrong, a mocking imposter trapped within your own skin.

He pushed off the doorframe, the soft click of the closing door behind him a definitive punctuation to the silence. He moved with a quiet grace until he stood directly behind you, his presence a solid, comforting weight. His hands found purchase on your hips, the cool metal of his fingertips a startling yet welcome contrast to the feverish heat of your skin.

Bucky leaned down, the rough scruff of his beard a gentle abrasion against the sensitive skin of your neck. His warm breath ghosted over your skin as his lips brushed against the delicate curve, a silent offering of solace. His gaze met yours once more in the mirror, his blue eyes filled with a profound empathy. He felt as though he could see a reflection of his own past struggles in your tormented gaze, the ghost of the Winter Soldier staring back, a version of himself he had fought so hard to overcome. He let out a slow, deliberate breath, the sound a soft sigh in the quiet room. "I'll never understand exactly what you go through," he hummed, his voice a low rumble against your ear as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his solid frame. "But I understand what it's like to feel as though your body isn't your own." Bucky murmured, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses across your shoulder blade. You gulped, your body twitching almost imperceptibly under his tender touch as you leaned back into his comforting warmth. "Does it get easier?" You whispered, your voice cracking with the weight of unspoken emotions. Bucky stilled, his hand coming up to gently cup your chin, turning your head ever so slightly towards him. "When we allow it to," was his simple, yet profound response, his lips hovering just above yours, a silent promise.

Bucky pulled away slightly, his calloused hand finding yours at your side, his grip firm and reassuring as he gently turned you away from the accusatory gaze of the mirror. He smiled at you, a warm, comforting smile that held a depth of affection reserved for you and you alone. He moved to sit on the edge of the nearby bed, his gaze never leaving yours, and then gently pulled you into his lap as if you belonged there, as if that space had been specifically created for you and no one else. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, your eyes locked onto his as his hands once more found their familiar perch on your hips, his thumbs gently stroking the curve of your waist. The way he looked at you sent a shiver down your spine, a feeling that transcended mere attraction. It was as if you alone had painted the stars in the vast expanse of the night sky, as if you were his entire universe contained within a single room, the only point of focus in a crowded world.

His lips found yours then, a kiss shrouded in pure adoration and a love that felt ancient and profound, rivaling any epic romance ever told. His fingers pressed into the softness of your skin, committing every inch of you to a memory that felt as though it would last him long after the inevitable touch of death. The taste of you was intoxicating, a complex blend of sweetness and the subtle saltiness of tears that had long since dried on your lips. Bucky stood without breaking the kiss, his strong arms wrapped tightly around you as if afraid you might disappear, and with a soft thud, he kicked off his worn leather boots. He laid you back gently against the soft mattress, his gaze never leaving yours as he crawled on top of you, his weight a comforting presence. "I'll worship you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he dipped down to press a tender kiss to the expanse of your abdomen. "Every bit of you that you don't like," he growled possessively, his lips moving against your skin, "I'll cherish."

You let out a shaky breath, your body instinctively arching into his touch, a silent plea for more. Bucky's strong fingers slipped under the hem of your constricting binder, slowly pulling it up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. His hands, both metal and flesh, ran over your chest with a reverent touch, his lips following the path his fingers had traced, kissing the delicate curve of your breasts, brushing against your sensitive nipples, sending shivers of longing through you. You tugged at the long strands of his dark hair, a low, broken whine escaping your lips, a sound that spoke volumes of your vulnerability and desire. He kissed his way up your chest, lingering on the sensitive curve of your neck, his breath hot against your skin before capturing your lips once more in a desperate, hungry kiss. You kissed him back with equal fervor, one hand slipping from his hair to press against his broad chest, feeling the frantic hammering of his heart against his ribs.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, his breath warm against your lips as he trailed a series of open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and down your chest, finally stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. His fingers dug gently into the soft skin of your thighs, slowly creeping up the denim, a silent exploration that sent a thrill of anticipation through you, and then slipped just beneath the elastic of your boxers. You moved your hands from his chest, gripping the soft cotton sheets beneath you, your knuckles white as Bucky looked up through strands of his messy hair, his blue eyes clouded with a raw, undisguised want. You didn't need to say anything; a simple, almost imperceptible nod of your head was all the permission he needed. With a slow, deliberate movement, your shorts and boxers were being tugged past your thighs and discarded on the floor, joining the chaotic pile of discarded garments. Bucky took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes roaming your now nude body below him, his gaze filled with a mixture of awe and tenderness. He looked at you as if you were a precious work of art, his hands caressing every inch of skin he knew you struggled with, his lips following, kissing your body with a devotion that felt sacred, as if you were his God and he was a devout worshipper, eager to show you the depth of his adoration.

Bucky leaned down further, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your hipbone before trailing lower, his hot breath fanning against the aching sensitivity of your inner thighs, drawing closer to the core of your being. You arched off the bed, a strangled whimper escaping your lips as his breath grew warmer against your clit, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. He looked up at you through the dark strands of his hair, his tongue peeking out from between his lips, a silent promise of pleasure. He began to swirl his tongue around your swollen flesh, his intense gaze never leaving your face even as he began to gently suck the sensitive skin. Your legs instinctively clasped around his head, strings of incoherent moans tumbling past your lips as the sensations intensified. His calloused finger slipped between your slick lips, slowly pushing in and out with a rhythmic pressure as his tongue continued its methodical dance. He could feel the tremor in your thighs, the way you clenched around his finger, the increasing urgency of your movements as he slowly pumped in and out at a steady, tantalizing rhythm. You tangled a hand in his hair, instinctively pushing him closer, a low growl rumbling in his chest, sending a shiver of pure sensation down your spine.

Bucky slowly pulled back, the wetness glistening on his lips, his eyes dark with desire. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. With a swift, practiced movement, he worked off his belt and the button of his jeans, the denim rustling as it slid down his legs. "I love you, baby," Bucky hummed against your lips, a soft gasp escaping him when you gently bit his bottom lip. "I love you too, James," you whispered against his mouth, your hands coming up to rest on the solid muscles of his biceps.

Bucky hovered above you, his weight supported on one forearm, his gaze locked with yours as his other hand gently guided the hard length of his cock to your entrance. He pushed in slowly, deliberately, his lips trailing soft, comforting kisses along the curve of your breasts. He let out a shaky breath, his hips stuttering almost imperceptibly when you clenched around him, your back arching further off the bed in response. Your nails dug lightly into his shoulder and back, leaving faint red marks in their wake, a testament to the intensity of the moment. He began to thrust slowly, deeply, his lips capturing yours in a breathless kiss, a silent language of love and desire. He whispered praises against your lips, his pace quickening with each deliberate movement, each deeper connection.

You let out a choked moan, a low, guttural sound ripped from your throat as Bucky's thrusts found that one exquisitely sensitive spot, his hips stuttering to maintain the precise rhythm that sent waves of pure sensation washing over you.

A strangled cry escaped your throat, the sound swallowed by the rhythmic pounding of Bucky's hips against yours. Each thrust sent a jolt of pure sensation through you, a searing heat that bloomed in your core and radiated outward. Your back arched further off the damp sheets, every muscle in your body clenched tight. You tangled your fingers in the sweat-slicked strands of his hair, your grip almost painful as you fought against the overwhelming pleasure threatening to consume you.

Bucky groaned, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, his teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. The scent of rain and his own musky heat filled your senses, intoxicating and grounding all at once. His movements became more frantic, deeper, each collision sending shockwaves through your trembling form. You could feel the slickness between your thighs, the friction building with every desperate stroke.

Your vision tunneled, the edges blurring as the world narrowed down to the feel of Bucky inside you, the frantic rhythm of his heart against yours, the ragged gasps escaping his lips. A low, guttural sound rumbled in his chest as he pressed deeper, hitting that one spot again and again, sending tremors of pure ecstasy through your body.

"Buck..." you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, your body convulsing around him. The pressure built and built, coiling tighter and tighter until it shattered, sending a wave of intense pleasure crashing over you. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as you finally crested, your body shuddering uncontrollably.

Bucky held you tight, his own release coming in short, powerful bursts. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rode out the final waves of pleasure. The world spun around you, a kaleidoscope of sensation and raw emotion.

Slowly, the intensity began to subside, leaving behind a blissful languor. Bucky collapsed against you, his weight a comforting pressure. You held him close, your bodies still slick with sweat, your hearts beating in unison. The rain outside had softened to a gentle drizzle, a soothing melody against the silence of the room. In the aftermath, there was only the quiet intimacy of two souls intertwined, a fragile peace settling over the battlefield within.

The frantic rhythm of your breathing gradually softened, replaced by the gentle rise and fall of your chest against Bucky's. His weight pressed you into the mattress, a comforting anchor in the storm of sensation that had just passed. The lingering scent of rain mingled with the musky aroma of arousal, creating an intimate atmosphere that cocooned you both.

Bucky shifted slightly, lifting his head to look down at you. His blue eyes, usually so sharp and guarded, were now softened with a tender affection. A stray lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, and you instinctively reached up to brush it away, your fingers tracing the familiar curve of his jaw.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice still thick with the aftermath of passion. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, the gesture simple yet profoundly intimate.

A small, contented sigh escaped your lips. The tension that had been coiled so tightly within you for so long had finally eased, replaced by a fragile sense of peace. The image in the mirror, though still a stark memory, no longer held the same power. In Bucky's arms, under his loving gaze, you felt seen, truly seen, beyond the surface, beyond the reflection.

"Hey," you whispered back, your voice still a little shaky. You tightened your grip on his hair, pulling him down for another soft kiss, a silent expression of gratitude and affection.

He nuzzled against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "You okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement against his cheek. "Yeah," you murmured. "Yeah, I think I am." The words felt true, a quiet affirmation of the connection you shared, a connection that transcended the battles fought within and the reflections that haunted. In that moment, held close in Bucky's arms, you felt whole, loved, and finally, at peace. The rain outside continued its gentle descent, a soothing lullaby to the quiet intimacy you had found.

[emeraldscript]

alien max au

pt. 3 (pt. 1, pt. 2)

daniel wakes up sometime before 8am despite his blackout curtains being drawn because the neighbour's cock won't shut the fuck up. 

after willing himself to go back to sleep for 10 minutes, he finally gives up. he kicks his blanket off and half rolls, half slides off the side of the bed. his side. even though the other one has been inhabited for months now. there's not even been any visitors. 

he tried once, just before christmas. everybody was back in town and the bar was packed on christmas eve. he was funny, laughed at daniel's stupid jokes, had kind green eyes. daniel wasn't sure if he'd recognised him or not. after a bummed cigarette, he'd leaned in. daniel had reciprocated. the daniel from before wouldn't have hesitated to flag the next taxi down. the daniel of today had slowly let the kiss fizzle out. had separated himself from him. had pressed a parting kiss to his jaw, whispered a quiet sorry through a pained smile and left. 

so yeah, the other side has been empty for months. 

daniel pads his way to the bathroom, half in the dark since his curtains are at least half closed all over the house to keep the suffocating heat out in the height of summer. 

he flips the toilet lid up, pushes his boxers down and starts aiming when he hears a sloshing noise behind him in the bathroom.

the waistband of his boxers snaps back up as daniel swings around to get his back against the nearest wall. his eyes search for the source of the noise until he finally notices movement in the bathtub. 

it's max. almost entirely submerged in a full bathtub with only his eyes above the surface. 

daniel is in disbelief, blinks once, twice, three times. max doesn't move, doesn't seem to be breathing either. there are no bubbles coming to the surface. 

"shit, shit max, max!" daniel curses, skidding across the tiles to get to max.

"hey, hey, max. oh my god please don't be dead. fuck!" daniel chants, shaking max's shoulder once he reaches the edge of the tub. 

max's eyes look kind of clouded over, like he has some sort of film covering them. oh fuck, how the fuck will he ever explain this to anybody. fucking e.t. is in his fucking bathtub unconscious, possibly dead. 

with daniel's shaking, max's body starts twitching slightly, and within a blink, the film over his eyes disappears, blue eyes clear as water once more. 

max's gaze finds daniel's, recognition colouring his features. he pushes himself above the surface. 

"oh thank fucking god, you're okay. don't scare me like that again, okay?" daniel huffs out, relieved, and let's his body slump backwards onto his ass next to the tub. 

max looks around a bit blearily. 

"i didn't mean to alarm you. i was just sleeping as you told me to get some rest," max explains calmly. 

"sleeping? mate you were underwater, not breathing. when i said rest i meant on the bed in your room!" daniel clarifies exasperated.

"i'm really sorry, i must have misunderstood. i tried to sleep there but the air was too dry to be comfortable. my skin was getting dry and itchy so i came here. i was also breathing just fine, daniel."

"breathing how?" daniel asks confused.

max doesn't say anything, just dips his head halfway underwater again. he points towards his neck just under his jaw where two little slits are flapping very slightly in the still water. 

"you got gills, mate?" daniel asks.

"yes, i think to you that's what they are. at home we live half in water, half on land since we can breathe in both. it's also very humid on my planet."

"sick, man! can i touch em?" daniel asks, clearly very excited but this development. 

"ehm," max hesistates, "they're very sensitive so watch out if that's okay?" max says quietly. daniel almost thinks that max's skin looks a bit blotchy and pink under the water's surface but undeterred he raises his hands towards max.

he gently runs his fingertips over max's skin, trying to feel for the little ridges. he can only barely make them out, they almost completely disappear into max's skin in the air. he sees max's adam's apple bob out the corner of his eye. 

"woah, they're barely there at all. is it different underwater?" daniel asks.

max nods his head slightly under daniel's hand.

"yeah, they actually work then and are my only source of oxygen. pushing them closed would be like applying pressure to my neck above water if that makes sense," max explains. 

daniel nods entranced as max slowly lowers himself further into the water. the gills starts fluttering slightly and daniel once again gently runs his fingers over them. it feels very smooth and daniel can actually see and feel the difference in the water. 

"this feels so weird, man but it's so cool!" daniel says, continuing to run his fingertips back and forth gently. 

max closes his eyes for a moment before gently grabbing daniel's wrist and stopping his movement. he pushes himself above the surface again and says "i think that's enough for me now, daniel."

"oh shit, was it painful, i'm sorry," daniel apologises.

"not exactly," max returns, searching daniel's face. 

daniel notices that it's not just max's chest that's blotchy underwater now, his cheeks are pink all over, too. 

daniel swallows the lump in his throat down and removes his hand from the admittedly cold water. 

"ehm, do you want any food? you're probably starving,"

"sure, daniel. thank you. you're very kind to me," max says, ducking his head towards his chest and pulling his legs towards himself. 

"just come down to the main area when you're done, there's towels there," daniel says and pushes himself up. 

once daniel's in the kitchen, he contemplates what to even make for max. god knows what they eat on his planet. daniel decides to just keep it simple and scramble some eggs and pop some bread in the toaster. 

eventually max appears, wearing daniel's old t-shirt and slightly damp looking shorts as he wore them in the tub.

"good morning," daniel says. 

"good morning," max returns, looking around curiously. he stays rooted on the spot in the middle of the kitchen, looking at daniel expectingly.

"go ahead and sit down," daniel says, motioning at the bar seat.

max nods and climbs on the bar stool.

"food’s ready," daniel says as he pushes a plate at max along with some cutlery. max picks the cutlery up to inspect it very closely, poking at it with his fingers, trying to bend the tongs. before max can hurt himself with the butter knife, daniel reaches across to stop him.

"watch out with this one, please, it’s quite sharp, yeah," daniel explains.

max nods, puts the knife down and turns his attention to the plate. daniel thinks he did a pretty good job. the egg looks fluffy and nice, loaded onto the sourdough bread. he even put some chives and a couple of cherry tomatoes on. 

max takes the tiniest amount of egg onto his fork and tries it, tongue sticking out of his mouth. he seems to deem it acceptable enough and moves on to takes a half cherry tomato in his mouth. he seems to really like that, since he goes for a second one. then max starts separating the egg from the bread, moving the tomatoes to one side and picking the chive pieces off the egg one by one. satisfied enough, max starts cutting the bread into tiny identical pieces and eats them one by one.

daniel watches on as he slowly chews on his own bread, fascinated. 

"so, do you all eat stuff like this at home?" daniel asks.

"no, just me. my mother of course always told me off about it but i prefer it this way," max says matter of factly. 

"fair enough, now that i know i can keep it separate for you," daniel suggests.

"you would do that?" max asks, eyes wide.

"yeah, no biggie," daniel says smiling at max. he’s kind of really endeared by this strange man or not man in his house. 

in response, for the first time since he pulled max out of the wreck yesterday, max’s expression changes to anything other than neutral. his wide mouth stretches upward, his eyes turn into crescents and the skin around his eyes wrinkles adorably. he’s smiling at daniel. 

daniel can’t help but count it as a win, smiling back brightly at max.

"so you can show emotion after all, i thought you were half machine man. could’ve fooled me," daniel jabs.

"of course but you seemed very stressed about everything yesterday, judging by your scent, so I thought it best to keep things neutral around you. you are very high strung, daniel," max says matter of factly.

"it’s not everyday you pull e.t. out of a wreckage and he nearly drowns in your bathtub, now is it? i’ve been very cool and relaxed about it all, i’ll have you know," daniel protests. 

"e.t.? i don’t understand that reference," max says.

"oh maxy, we’re gonna have to change that." daniel responds. "also what do you mean my smell?

[dr4c0-r3x]

Part of my DC × DP crossover.

Cyborg boomtubed his way down to a construction site in Illinois on to see a sight in front of him.

A teen in full body armor and a pair of shoulder mounted energy guns.

Cyborg: Damn kid, that's some pretty high-tech gear.

Tucker the energy guns flipping over to point at the former Titan: It's only some tech that my friends parents threw away. What's a former Titan doing in Illinois?

Cyborg shrugging: The League flagged this town as an energy hotspot for a while now. So when I detected a new energy source, I decided to check it out. By the way, what did you mean "by threw away"?

Tucker the energy guns flipped back at the targets as he turned to Cyborg: They counted them as failers, threw them out and didn't care if I took them.

Cyborg bewildered: That seems very irresponsible.

Tucker sighing as the suit retracts back into a pair of bracelets: Yeah and it's because of that the Ghost Investigation Ward keeps getting upgrades.

Cyborg nodding: Listen kid, meet me back here tomorrow and I'll start helping you with upgrading.

Tucker crossing his arms: And what's in it for me?

Cyborg opening a boomtube behind him: I never hear of the Ghost Investigation Ward, so I'll dig up some dirt on them and you get to work on some alien tech.

Tucker looking out in the distance where a light show of ecto-plasm is shown in the sky: Anything to help my friend.

With that Cyborg boomtubes away.

[sunnysam-my]

Why I don't use 'Progressive flag'

And why you should consider not to either.

Short answer? It's not progressive. It's as simple as that. Oh, and it's ugly as hell. And the creator of the OG flag advocated to go back to the older flag before he died.

Seriously, it's a nightmare of a design. Just like saying LGBTQIA2S+ is impossible to properly comprehend. It's simply too busy, too long, there's too much going on. By adding more letters or stripes we lose the meaning.

There are so many flags, are we going to add them all?

The intentions are good, but unfortunately progressive flags are way less inclusive than any other rainbow flag.

You see, pride flag was always inclusive. It has always represented queer POC, and trans people and intersex and anyone else who see themselves as part of the LGBT+ community.

The idea in highlighting certain parts of community that are often left out and controversial in the community had it's reasons. Despite that it's a stupid ass decision that implies people of colour, trans and intersex weren't a part of the community. That the flag didn't represent them.

In 1978, the artist Gilbert Baker, an openly gay man and a drag queen, designed the first rainbow flag, urged by Harvey Milk, one of the first openly gay elected officials in the U.S., to create a symbol of pride for the gay community. Baker saw the rainbow as a natural flag from the sky, so he adopted eight colors for the stripes, each color with its own meaning (hot pink for sex, red for life, orange for healing, yellow for sunlight, green for nature, turquoise for art, indigo for harmony, and violet for spirit).

Baker and a team of volunteers had made the first flag by hand, for the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day parade on June 25, 1978. Quickly he wanted to mass-produce the flag for consumption by all. However, because of production issues, the pink stripe was removed while indigo and turquoise merged to create basic blue, which resulted in the famous six-striped flag.

{source of slightly altered text about the history of the flag}

Since 2003 Gilbert Baker has been advocating to restore the flag to its original 8 stripe state. He died in 2017.

So here's my proposal:

Let's get back to the pink. Let's give it a new meaning. Let's put pink on the 6 striped flag for those of us who were thrown out, just like the pink was, because it was inconvenient to keep us. Nowadays it's not as hard to produce pink, so why not? It doesn't divide or alienate us more, it pays tribute to the old flag while also being distinct and new.

[max--phillips]

Hey, kid. Yeah. You. You want free movies and TV shows?

Well, first of all, Internet Archive. Yes, the Wayback Machine people. They have a lot of movies and shows 'n shit you're gonna have a hard time finding elsewhere. (Also, the Alien movies?????) So if you're looking for something weird or niche or old, you might wanna start your search there.

Second of all: In order to get free goodies ✨elsewhere✨, you need three (3) things.

A VPN (virtual private network)

qBittorrent (or some other torrent client, but this is really the go-to these days.)

Places to go, y'know, get stuff.

First: the VPN

This unfortunately is probably going to cost you money. Free VPNs typically collect data, are extremely slow, and/or don't even allow peer to peer downloading in the first place. Beyond that, they're more likely to turn tail and rat you out to your internet service provider (ISP) and get you in trouble. You then get a nice little DMCA letter in the mail threatening you. Get enough of those, and your ISP will kick you out of your plan with them. That's why you need the VPN in the first place--to avoid that.

Be careful to choose a VPN that won't sell your data, allows peer to peer downloading, and won't rat you out to your ISP. There are plenty of discussions about that, and recommendations you can find. Just don't blindly go for the ones you see advertised everywhere (NordVPN, for instance) as those are more likely to sell your data, which is like... antithetical to why you would be using a VPN anyway. Just read the ToS. Personally, I use Mozilla VPN, and I'm very happy with it.

Mozilla VPN, if you buy a full year, is $4.99/mo, billed annually for $59.88. As far as I can tell, this is pretty average as far as cost goes for VPNs. As opposed to spending two or three times that a month for one (1) streaming service... you're gonna save some money.

(Also, as a bonus, if you live in a state where porn websites have started requiring age verification or have completely stopped functioning, you can use this to get around that by making the website think you're in another state! Region locked youtube video? Not anymore! Nervous about being on a public network at the airport or in a coffee shop? Worry not my friend! There are many benefits to having a VPN. Just be aware that some websites and applications do not like VPNs and will flag as suspicious activity (i.e. your bank, paypal, Netflix...) and you're going to be filling out a LOT of captchas and Cloudflare might not like you. But it is what it is.)

You can also host your own VPN, but that's pretty technical, even for me, so... idk, do what you will with that information.

Second: qBittorrent

Idk man, it's qBittorrent. Just download it.

(for real tho, it's free, it's open source software (yay!) and it's not stealing your data or shoving ads down your throat. It's THE torrent client at this point.)

Third: Places to, y'know, get stuff

I gift unto you the r/Piracy megathread. Enjoy.

Frankly, most information you need, recommendations, etc. is gonna be on r/Piracy. They're a godsend. I also recommend this website for a more detailed guide on all the stuff I just put forward. I would tag the user here I got it from but it looks like they deactivated.

Also for the love of god just switch to Firefox and install ublock origin already. Trust me. Just do it. You'll be so much happier. I promise.

Okay thanks bye! Enjoy your free stuff!

[ofmdrecaps]

08/12-13/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Vico Ortiz; Kristian Nairn; Samba Schutte; Leslie Jones; Dominic Burgess; Alex Sherman; WBD News Articles; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Never Left Podcast; Love Notes; Today's Taika Tuesday;

== David Jenkins ==

Chaos Dad has certainly been living up to his name! He's been keeping the fandom busy with reposting lovely artwork from our crew, and responding to various ponderings!

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

He even confirmed some Evelyn/Mary Theories made by our dear friend @patchworkpiratebear!

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

== Rhys Darby ==

Some more shots of Edinburgh Fringe!

Source: TheWeeReview Instagram

== Taika Waititi ==

Just a quick vid of Taika out in Ibiza a couple weeks back!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Taika Ora (Fan Page) (@taika_ora)

Source: Taika_Ora's Instagram

Also-- 3 years ago Aug 13th, Free Guy came out! So folks are celebrating the anniversary!

Source: Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico has been posting lots of pics lately-- but recently shared that Aug 12 was their 2 year anniversary with Jack!

Source: Vico Ortiz Instagram

In other news, Vico will be honored with the Coyote Courage Award a the 1st Annual 29 Queer Film Festival! Thank you to @adoptourcrew for highlighting this amazing honor for Vico!

Here's the Article:

Source: Adopt Our Crew Instagram

Vico is asking for some feedback! You can send it to them on their Instagram Story!

Source: Vico Ortiz' Instagram Stories

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie met Sha'Carri Richardson!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Leslie Jones (@lesdogggg)

Source: Leslie's Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba's back in Holland!

Source: Samba's Instagram

== Kristian Nairn ==

The new Audo Drama Podcast -- Dungeon Masters with Kristian is finally out! Check it out wherever you love to listen!

Source: Dungeon Masters Spotify

== Alex Sherman ==

#AssTonight has been extended to #AssTomorrow and #AssForever!

Source: Alex Shermans' Instagram

And if you didn't love Alex enough, he's been a camp counselor for the "Experience Camps", which is a non-profit that helps transform the lives of grieving kids through summer camp programs and year round initiatives!

Source: ItsAshlyPerez' Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Dominic is out at the new Alien Premiere!

Source: Dominic's Twitter

== WBD News ==

More Articles on WBD and the tanking stocks!

Source: Never Left Podcast Twitter

Source: Never Left Podcast Twitter

Source: Never Left Podcast Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

More cast cards tonight from the wonderful @melvisik! You just keep bringing more and more of our lovely crew to light! Thank you hon! First up is Kian F, and Marcin K! They are unspecified but Mel thinks they're Action Talent found via ofmd-crew.com!

The next up almost needs no introduction, she's our fabulous Costume Designer for S2, Gypsy Taylor!!

And last but not least, you probably recognize her from all her BTS, Set Dresser, Lindsey Cantrell!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

New Epitizer from Our Flag Means FanFiction! Ready by Cheesecake3! Check them out here!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

OFMFanfiction needs your help! Help them pick a new sign off slogan! Reach out to them on their instagram!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

= Never Left Podcast =

New episode of Never Left Podcast! Part 3 of Motifs! Check them out on your favorite listening platform!

Source: Never Left Podcast Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies, another busy couple of days. My son starts kindergarten tomorrow! Boy how time flies, huh? I feel like I was pregnant like last month, and here he is grown up and 5 years old, and off to school. Do you remember those days? I remember my first day of kindergarten. I'm 38 years old, and that's still a day I remember. I remember the brown wall with the pink buttlerflies of my classroom, and the desks I'd never seen before. I remember being scared...wondering why I was in a new place I didn't recognize, but I remember having such a great time too. I remember counting to 25, and reading Berenstain Bears books, and making friends and I don't remember a lot of other days from that year, but I remember that one. It's amazing what little things in life we remember, even 30+ years later. Remember to take a moment to smile and enjoy things even when they're a bit scary lovelies. Sometimes they turn out to be wonderful memories. I hope you're all staying healthy <3 Just some quick love notes tonight-- the first from our Pirate queen, and the second from the darling TheLatestKate <3

Source: Ruibo Qian's Instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by @thelatestkate

== Today's Taika Tuesday ==

In honor of this Taika Tuesday which falls on the 3rd anniversary of Free Guy, have some Antwan <3 Gif courtesy of the lovely @neverswungonswingingstars

[intervex]

Miscellaneous headcanons (some mine, some from others)

Deadpool from the MCU as varsex (since he has all the cancers). Photo credit. Inspired by this ask to @consciousexe.

Paul Atreides from Dune as intersex and interexpressive-masculine (i.e. his masculine gender expression is connected to / reflective of being intersex). Photo credit. Submission by @goingrampant.

Brienne of Tarth from Games of Thrones as intersex and having interexpressive-neutral gender expression. Image source. Inspired by this post by @thehmn.

Chummy Browne from Call the Midwife as intersex and interexpressive-androgynous (while also being a woman). Inspired by the same post by @thehmn. Image source.

Bobbie Draper from The Expanse as intersex and interexpressive-feminine. Her femininity (especially in the books) is always described in reference to her large stature and musculature, but it's always understood as feminine. Very feminine in a specifically intersex way. Photo source. Inspired by this post by @intertrek.

Camina Drummer from The Expanse as extersex, because what kind of beltalowda has access to medical testing? This one's from me, I headcanon most of the Belters in the TV show as hypogonadally intersex to explain why they're not as tall as they should be per the books 😂. And I think Drummer wouldn't be bothered to figure out if she is intersex or not.

Ahsoka Tano from Star Wars as intersex AFAB transfeminine with the intertransgender flag. Source image. Inspired by this poll by @aretheyqueer.

Fiona from Shrek as PCOS-intersex (i.e. intersex on the basis of having PCOS hyperandrogenism). Suggested by @scifimagpie. Image source.

Harth Fray from the Buffy comics as XTM intersex, having access to feminine powers that are shared with his twin sister. Suggested by @goingrampant. Image source.

Joan Lambert from Alien is XTF intersex! Photo from here. I've seen a bunch of people list Lambert as an intersex headcanon but I personally think the reveal she was medically assigned from male to female at birth is pretty canonically intersex. 🤷

Tedd Verres from El Goonish Shive is intersex and interfluid! Picture source. Submission by @goingrampant.

Azi Nareen from Scavenger's Reign is intersex and inter-agender/intergenderless. Picture from from here. Another headcanon of mine.

Note on copyright: all of these flags include copyrighted images. They are not public domain. Feel free to use/share within the norms of using material derived from popular media on social media.

[dcdreamblog]

@comicgeekscomicgeek

US: Bastards. Me: Excuse me? US: Those bastards caught me, stuffed me in an alien tinker toy, sacrificed a dozen lives in my name. Wound me up like a tin soldier so that I could bring back "the good old days" Me: You're referring to the secretive political cabal known as the National Interest? US: Right Wing nutjobs, halfway between the John Birch Society and the 3rd Reich. Wanted to gather the pieces of a powerful artifact called the American Talisman to physically remake the American Dream to their liking. Me: Seems like a powerful thing to have floating around, even in pieces. US: It wasn't invented, at least not on purpose. When I was born, when the American ideal was created, it was imperfect. Broad, sweeping language that from its first moment wasn't being applied to all those it should have protected. That contradiction broke something in a metaphysical sense, raining down shards on the material plane. Me: So this "National Interest" they needed it to put America "right" in their view. US: They found this...alien suit. This...something. They called it The Sorcerer. Able to take the form of any human being. Used me as a power source to go fetch the Spear of Destiny where Superman and the Spectre had cast it into Earth's orbit. Then they got a dozen people together at Mount Rushmore and got them to "sacrifice" themselves. Make a new American Dream...I felt them get sucked into that thing. Sucked into ME.

(The only good photo ever taken of the being called "Patriot" the Flag background was inserted by the conspiracy website where this picture was posted, viewing the citing as a pseudo religious experience)

Me: And...considering we still sit here, I imagine it didn't turn out the way they expected. US: *Placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands* I am made up of 335 MILLION people. Shards of them. An atom of their wants, a molecule of their ideals. I felt those dozen people enter me like dripping salt water into the tide. Felt them atomize against the current. I felt the moment they defused out too far to be anything. And I was stuck in that...that thing. Trapped in that machine body, like being paralyzed. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. Like some homonculus made of my parts was speaking with my voice. It took me MONTHS to wrestle free, to get my mind back. Me: I can only imagine what it must have felt like for a being like you to be so...trapped. US: I don't know how people stand it. Being stuck in a body that won't bend, can't shift and adjust to reflect the community around them. It felt like needles in every inch of my bones, pinning me in place. And when I was free...I had to reckon with the fact that a dozen people had been fooled into making themselves martyrs. Blood sacrifices. *He covers his eyes with one hand* ...I can still feel them breaking away...

[striderl]

sorry if this was already answered/asked before, but was Foley always the way he is?

Like, did something happen to make him like that or was he just a psycho scientist on his own accord?

Foley’s life was a constant rollercoaster, the wild highs and lows that never seemed to settle.

When he was fresh off the assembly line as SM-1666, there was nothing particularly extraordinary about him. With an appearance like any other speakermen, he blended in the crowd relatively easily. However, the researchers quickly noticed something disturbing about him: he had an abnormal affinity for sharp objects. Unlike other speakermen, who were known for their vibrant personality and a tight-knit community, Foley was quieter, and more withdrawn, sometimes observing people from the sidelines with an intensity that creeped them out. Not to mention that once he mastered the art of handling combat knives, his obsession transitioned to dissection, starting with little insects and animals.

Things took a disturbing turn when Foley was discovered dissecting a researcher’s pet cat. This incident propelled the researchers to conduct a thorough psychological assessment on him, the results were unsettling. Beneath his unassuming exterior, Foley was profoundly instable. He was incapable of processing basic emotions like empathy, while his morbid fixation on understanding the anatomy of living creatures was a huge red flag.

As his oddities became more apparent with time, the rest of the speakermen began to distance themselves. His abnormal behavior alienated him, and researchers grew wary of deploying him on missions, fearing the grave consequences of allowing him to run free. Foley was left neglected, practically abandoned, until an underground bar owner struck a shady deal with the researchers, contracting to take him off their hands.

For the next two decades, Foley remained under the bar owner’s control, with a bomb strapped to his core to ensure his compliance. Isolated from society and subjected to a hostile environment, Foley’s violent tendencies only grew. He developed a habit of lashing out at anyone who crossed his path, and his obsession with collecting eyeballs, coupled with a strong aversion to physical contact, intensified during this time.

When he eventually returned to the speakerman faction for the war, many were shocked to see him alive. Most had assumed he had deactivated when he vanished without a trace years before. Despite the time had passed since his return, nothing changed — people still avoided him, interacting only when absolutely necessary. The once-quiet SM-1666 had grown into a twisted sadist, more lethal and unhinged than ever.

Then, Chief came into the picture. Foley became attached to him because of his positivity and willingness to accept his eccentricity, the first true friend he ever had. Chief became the only person which Foley confided in until his untimely end, which leading to Foley completely losing it. At his lowest, Gaffer stepped in, offering him comfort and solace. With Gaffer’s help, he gradually recovered from the lost.

But, once a mad man, always a mad man. Though Foley may have regained some stability from his time with Gaffer, his psychotic impulses were still there.

Here are some references to previous posts that focused on Foley's past.

https://www.tumblr.com/striderl/760204823430889472/its-all-fun-and-games-until?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/striderl/745146295653744640/this-is-an-odd-ask-but-is-there-anything-that-can?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/striderl/746980737274773504/would-foley-appreciate-being-gifted-some-skibidi?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/striderl/748790768487088128/i-always-wanted-to-ask-this-but-i-wasnt-sure-just?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/striderl/736812817665163264/may-i-ask-who-is-chief-because-i-saw-an-old-post?source=share

[thebroccolination]

THE WAY KRIST INCLUDES WOMEN

[left: Krist and Namtan; right: Krist and his sister]

Once, my friend had the opportunity to work with a singer from a group I used to follow. When the project was done, I asked my friend what she thought of him, and she said, “He’s fine,” but I could tell something about the experience bothered her. After a few minutes of talking about the job itself, she said, “You know what it was about him? He doesn’t care about women. Like, he wasn’t rude to me or anything. He didn’t say anything negative about women, and he didn’t treat any woman on the project poorly that I saw. He just doesn’t think about us. At all. Whenever I met with him to discuss the project, or whenever we’d have small talk about culture or society or whatever, it just became abundantly clear that his whole life and worldview is very male-centric. I’m used to men being openly patronizing or downright malicious, and like, this guy’s whole career has been female-facing, so I went into those interactions expecting him to be either extremely cool with women or a total misogynist. But nah. He’s just, y’know. A man who doesn’t include women in his world. Other than that, he’s fine.”

I thought about that for the rest of the week. I’d been a fan of this guy’s group for years, and his group had been all men in a company of all men. He’d been on TV shows with women, of course, and I remember him being friendly with some former costars, but all the people I knew from his inner circle were, in fact, men. I was in my late twenties at the time, and I remember thinking, “There’s something inherently odd and exploitative about famous men who make their career off the money and support of women but don’t include women in their personal lives.”

It’s something I’ve paid attention to ever since. When I became a fan of Boun, for example, I noticed that he has female friends from university, and that he was extremely protective of all the girls in Wabi Sabi, which made me feel confident that he was a good egg. By that same token, I’ve also noticed when other actors are predominantly friends with men, and when they only seem to view women as support systems or sources of personal validation.

Krist is just…comfortable with women. And more importantly, women are comfortable with Krist.

[Krist and Mook]

Back in 2020, I noticed two things about Krist regarding women: 1) he had a crush on Namtan (don’t we all), and 2) after SOTUS, GMMTV steered Krist away from BL to star in lakorns opposite women.

That was fairly standard. Just a famous dude existing around women for work. No red flags, no green.

What I noticed over time is that Krist is still close with a lot of the women he worked with, and that his inner circle includes women.

And when I say those women are comfortable with him, I mean that not just in a, “He’s fine,” sort of sense. They’re comfortable goofing around with him, being physically close to him, and hanging out with him. They speak highly of his character, about how he treats them as a senior, a junior, a coworker.

[left: Krist and Mook; right: Aye with Krist and Gawin]

Last year, Aye went so far as to say that in all of GMMTV, she felt closest to Krist and Gawin partly because they made her experience making Be My Favorite so warm and comfortable when usually these male-oriented productions can alienate the women involved. She’d also worked with Krist before, and she said she feels completely at ease with him.

The work part I had backed up recently by a woman my friend spoke to: she said Krist goes out of his way to include every single person involved in a production. Not just the actors, but the crew and the staff as well. Rather than form a small clique with the people he already knows, Krist makes everyone feel like they’re in his clique. He treated everyone with respect regardless of age, gender, or role in the production.

[left: Krist and Godji; center: Godji’s birthday message to Krist; right: Jennie’s birthday message to Krist]

He’s famously devoted to his mothers, both his industry mother Godji who’s been looking out for him for years, and his birth mother pictured below from an episode of ArmShare (with English subtitles) in which Arm features Krist’s mother and shows how lovely and supportive their relationship is.

In the late 90s and early 00s, Krist’s family went into debt, and he took thankless jobs in university to try and help them out of it. The success of SOTUS is what got his family all the way into the green, and to this day Krist freely gives his parents access to the money he makes so they can live a better life. They still work (his mother’s office is pictured above), but because of Krist, they’re able to relax into their older age.

He’s also been actively protective of MilkLove over the past several months. When he interviewed them for Livehouse, they were noticeably open and confident in their answers. And yesterday, when MilkLove, KristSingto, and JoongDunk arrived in Singapore for their fan meetings today, the chaos in the airport created some genuine panic among security and the artists themselves.

In the video, you’ll see a man in a red shirt who was dogging MilkLove with his phone stretched out to capture himself with them. Krist, in gray, stretched his arm out to shield them from him. He and Singto did their best among the madness to protect MilkLove from the overzealous fans and from the confused security guard who pushed Milk out of the way thinking she was a fan, too.

Surging crowds like that are terrifying enough for anyone, but especially for women when they’re being actively pursued by larger men with no respect for their physical space. Krist and Singto both understand from personal experience how wild these situations can get, and I’m relieved they were both so quick to act for MilkLove’s safety.

I thought I must’ve made a thread or a post about this before, but I only really mentioned it once in a tweet a few months ago, so after this incident with MilkLove, I decided to zero in on one of my favorite things about him. Because these days, it’s not enough for me that a man is neutral about women. For me to support any man’s career, he has to be actively kind, actively supportive, and actively sharp with the men who aren’t.

The days of neutrality as the standard are firmly in the past, and it’s important to hold expectations for men high—especially famous men.

[utilitycaster]

not a Candela post but I was actually thinking about The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K Le Guin w/r/t Liliana. Spoilers for a 50+ year old book, but it centers around a man who unwillingly has the power to alter reality to match his dreams and who retains the memory of the world before he changed it. He is required to see a psychiatrist due to his drug abuse, since that suppresses the ability, and the psychiatrist believes him - but uses him to try to fix the various ills of the world. This becomes a monkey's paw-like exploration of various dystopias - to solve overpopulation (really popular theme in the early 70s) his dreams create a world where most people died of a plague; racism is eliminated by the concept of race being eliminated thus eliminating a number of people and a good deal of art and history; world peace is achieved via an alien invasion that unites the people of the world against an external threat rather than each other (a la Watchmen). The man (Orr) who has the dreams becomes more and more insistent that this is wrong, but the psychiatrist does not listen, and things spiral out from there.

I really do think Liliana believes she is doing the right thing, but the fact is, waving away people's legitimate question of "what will happen if you get rid of the gods" - particularly since pretty much everyone not directly within the Ruby Vanguard, including one of the major representatives of planar stability from the natural side (Keyleth) and her wizard counterpart (Ryn) and like, every other wizard who isn't directly under Ludinus's sphere of influence is like "I think that ends in disaster" - is such a massive red flag. Treating geopolitical problems as neatly fixable by One Change that definitely won't make everything worse (source: trust me) is, even in fantasy, a fantasy.

[melabea]

alien butch! | alien lesboy!

alien butch; alien-themed butch flags!

alien lesboy; alien-themed lesboy flags!

for; anon!

symbol source (link)

tagging; @radiomogai, @thecoffeecrew404

[techramonic]

The most ironic thing about Elliot Rodger is that in his attempt to prove that all women are shallow, he proved that not all women are shallow.

My Twisted World: An Analysis on Elliot Rodger's Manifesto

This is a great take. Thank you! I've been meaning to talk about this matter after reading the first few pages of Elliot's Manifesto.

note: Thank you for Antimatter_42 on reddit, since a lot of the information sourced on this analysis was from their reddit post, “Elliot Rodger: A Psycho-Lingustic Profile” on r/TrueCrimeDiscussion. Other information is from my own analysis while reading Elliot Rodger’s Manifesto: “My Twisted World”.

Elliot Rodger was actually a normal guy. People on reddit would often question why this guy was lonely. Why did no one consider him attractive enough to be in a relationship with him? He had the looks, the wealth, practically almost everything a girl would want, right? The reason why no one approached him was because he was shallow.

Here are some of the aspects of his personality and life that could better explain why:

CHILDHOOD

I currently have been reading his manifesto and he had a seemingly good childhood. He was a nice kid who lived a nice life. Up until his parent’s divorce. Even until then, he would still spend time with both sides of his family, who both treated him with wealth. On his first birthday, he had already been to France, then lived in Sussex, went on a vacation to his mother’s home country Malaysia, took a trip to Spain, then Greece, then grew up from ages 5 to 9 in California. He travelled a lot.

First observation, he places so much of his worth on materialistic things that it fully consumes him when he fails to become what he isn’t. He has exhibited this fixation at a very young age. Just when he moved to Topanga Elementary School, by the age of six, he had already developed a view on the world that separates people by their differences: the “cool kids” and the “losers”. He considered the cool kids as the higher-class, the ones who are privileged with garnering attention even if they did the bare-minimum. He even went so far as to dye his hair blonde to appear more white because of the predominantly white population, and even tried to pick up on skating because he thought it would make him cooler. This was the first red flag, because instead of accepting things and bettering himself, he chose to change aspects of his life to better fit people's "standards", when in truth, that was only a standard he set for himself because he was insecure.

RACIAL HIERARCHY

Elliot is an interesting case because he has no sense of self-worth. He is so fixated on hierarchy that he constantly demeans his own kind. He’s very racist, particularly and most fixated on Asians. Elliot is Asian-European himself, his father is English and his mother was of Chinese descent. Yet he was so focused on how this makes him less because he considered whiteness as a prestige. He has made several comments regarding how no woman would find Asian men to be attractive and it seems like he has placed whiteness on a pedestal that somehow is highest in the racial hierarchy.

He was also very fixated on his looks. He was vain, to be short. He has repetitively mentioned how he hated his hair, his looks, and even his height. From things he can control and others of which he can’t, all these aspects of him seem to tie into him being mixed. He thought that this difference further alienated him when in truth, it really didn’t. Sure, he was bullied for being physically weak and short but he shouldn't blame that on his descent, for that wasn't something in his control. He could've went to the gym and worked on himself, it might've helped him feel better, but he then only saw this problem as "being mixed is a form of inferiority", because this made him “undesirable”. He is not as fair-skinned, he is blonde, he didn’t have blue eyes, and he was not as tall as the other kids simply because he was not them. He changes parts of himself to better fit the narrative of being “cool”. To him, it’s all a part of growing up and fitting in but he fails to see that the more he takes parts of himself for people to like him and focus on him, the more it just makes him hollow.

Elliot’s childhood and teen years, best summed up, is a fixation on trying to keep up with those who are higher on the social status ladder and this continued to his later years.

EXPOSURE TO PORNOGRAPHY AND SEXIST / MISOGYNISTIC MEDIA

He was also more lonely during his teen years, 13 years old according to his manifesto, he stopped having contact with his only friends because they started having their own separate lives together, making him spend more time alone by himself (Rodger, 2014, pg. 38). This was when Elliot first recounted his exposure to pornography by catching a teenager watch it on Planet Cyber.  He said he was “traumatized” by how two people could do such a thing and call it love. He didn’t know about sex up until then and this explicit exposure truly “damaged” him, according to his words himself. Though he did feel aroused, he was more guilty and confused.

This was the pinnacle of Elliot’s misery. A kid who searches for validation with his looks, now searches for it with sexual gratification as well. He only found himself as wanted if girls flocked over to him. He had the misogynistic mindset that his worth is only measured by how many girls he could get and how fast he'd lose his virginity. Especially with the stereotypical portrayal of media influencing teen boys with the concept of "cool" guys having lots of girls, treating them like objects and trophies, while nerds and "losers" have none. With this, he did not even make any effort to do his part. It was almost always one-sided, his friends would say, where he would expect women to just swoon over him because he exists, because he is a man. 

ENTITLEMENT

Furthermore, initially, his middle school years at Pinecrest were pleasant according to him. He even talked to girls and even danced with a girl during a school dance (Rodger, 2014, pg. 29). However, things eventually became difficult as he found it harder to socialize and was also bullied in his later years. According to his friends, he barely even talked to women but still complained no woman wanted to talk to him. He just expected them to approach him.

Elliot also had  a record for being entitled or spoiled. Even as a kid, he would complain about things that were small, like when on his first birthday, he cried that his friend got the first slice of his cake, which was understandable but still relatively small; or when he refused to sit crossed-legged for his class picture and was the only boy who didn’t do it after the teachers gave up on persuading him; or when he threw a fit that he didn’t get his hair fully-dyed as blonde because the hairdresser said he was too young. This transcended to his adult years.

More on his latter years in life, he attended Pierce College and found it rather pleasant compared to former schools, but after a while, found it disheartening after seeing a lot of couples on campus, which shifted his fixation from school to getting a girlfriend, so much so that he dropped out and enraged his step-mother. Elliot had this hatred for his step-mother, Soumaya, which was mentioned in the book as well. He considered his dad to be “weak” for following her orders around, when in truth, she was only trying to teach Elliot a lesson about independence.

At his mother’s insistence, Elliot began looking for a job and eventually found work with a family friend on a house construction project. He felt more comfortable with this job, seeing it as helping rather than typical employment. After getting his driver’s license, Elliot enrolled in summer classes at Moorpark College but struggled with attendance, again due to his jealousy of campus couples. He dropped out midway through, briefly worked as a janitor at an airport office, and quit after one day. Knowing his mother would be upset, he reenrolled at Moorpark but eventually dropped out again (Rodger, 2014, pg. 70). Upon learning of Elliot’s decision to drop out again, his parents decided he would move to Santa Barbara, where he would live alone in an apartment paid for by his mother, receive a $500 monthly allowance from his father, and enroll in classes at Santa Barbara Community College (Rodger, 2014, pg. 77). 

CONCLUSION

Elliot is insistent on the idea that “women are shallow.” when in truth, it was him all along. No man is entitled to force a woman to give them their love and attention, even to buy it off of them. No one has absolutely any obligation to love someone because the other sees it as a form of acceptance or validation. Self-worth comes from yourself, not from others. 

Due to Elliot’s constant fixation on trying to be accepted, he lost himself and the identity that made him authentic and less shallow. If only he stuck to being genuine, then surely, he wouldn’t have been so lonely. It’s like seeing a kid who was sheltered all his life finally open his eyes to the cruelty of the world and because he thinks he can get whatever he wants, he feels disgustingly hateful whenever he doesn’t.

Additionally, due to the unfortunate events that have subsequently happened in the later years of his life, he was driven to a point of madness. His best friend ended their fourteen-year friendship due to Elliot's constant complaints about not having a girlfriend, his stepmother cut ties with him,, he got beaten up while he was drunk and desperate to find a girlfriend, the cherished gold necklace given to him by his grandmother was robbed, further drove him to the tragic decision to commit his crime and suicide.

Concluding, Elliot was the epitome of shallowness. He wanted everything even if he did the bare-minimum. It wasn’t the problem of the second party, it was him, and because he never realized that and only further saw gratification of his actions from both the media and guys who sympathize with him because they also could not get women themselves and are too caught up with their misery to work on themselves instead, he was convinced that his crime was the only way for the world to give him the attention he desperately wanted.

[dragonpride17]

IDs in alt text

astroceanic - a gender connected to aliens, UFOs, the ocean, marine exobiology, stars, and the color green

endlesspacic - a gender connected to deep space, the void, the word "endless", and a deep love for existence. may be considered an existerra and/or scalecosmic gender

IDs in alt text

labsnowic - a gender connected to ice, snow, medical themes, science, laboratories, and mystery. may also relate to the polus map from among us

scijesteric - a gender connected to chaos, silliness, jesters/being a jester, mad scientists/being a mad scientist, and bright colors, especially lime green

late day 2 for @acronym-chaos's birthday event - themed (albeit loosely) after your hyperfixation/special interest! (fun fact: this is the first thing in my drafts lol)

icon sources: astroceanic (link) / endlesspacic (link) / scijesteric (link)

blank flags:

IDs in alt text

[darkmaga-returns]

Here's more from the report:

A two-count indictment, which was filed under seal in federal court in Tennessee last month, alleges Abrego Garcia, 29, participated in a years-long conspiracy to haul undocumented migrants from Texas to the interior of the country, according to sources briefed on the indictment. The alleged conspiracy spanned nearly a decade and involved the domestic transport of thousands of non-citizens, including some children, from Mexico and Central America. Among those allegedly transported were members of the Salvadoran gang MS-13, sources familiar with the investigation said.

Latest on the El Salvadoran man:

NPR: Abrego Garcia Was "Living Quietly" In Maryland Before He Was Deported

Abrego Garcia Moved To Lower Security Detention Facility, Given Own Room: State Department

Deported 'Maryland Father', Kilmar's Van Full Of Migrants Owned By Convicted Human-Trafficker

Judge Halts Order Demanding Details On Efforts To Return Abrego Garcia To US

Kilmar Abrego Garcia Accused Of Being "Gang Member" In 2018 Sworn Affidavit

Human Trafficking Too? Biden Admin Flagged Deported El Salvadoran As 'Suspect Alien'

We can't help but wonder at the optics...