#and am not immune to women ordering me around

[bybdolan]

I watched Obviously Queer's video about the rise of mlm media yesterday, and while I think it was pretty good and insightful as a whole, I do feel like sometimes the women* and nonbinary people writing mlm fanfic and novels are let off the hook a bit too easily, if that makes sense. I myself am a writer of mlm stuff, and also not a beliver in strict Own Voices policies (duh), but I find it noteworthy that mlm-heavy fandom spaces tend to circle around very specific kinds of mlm works – namely stuff that was made with a non-mlm audience in mind – outside of the works they produce, which obviously colors their writing. (Look at the immense popularity of stuff like The Song of Achilles and Red White Royal Blue.) I like to think that it is universally acknowledged that when writing from a perspective that isn't your own, you should do research to try to be as accurate and respectful to the experience as possible, but I feel like that sentiment is not really Big when it comes to writing gay men. Part of me wonders if that is a result of the combination of the idea of "Own Voices" (understandably) mainly being used to critique writers who inhabit less privileged perspectives and insert their prejudice into their works while wanting to check progressive boxes, and the fact that people for some reason assume that gay men are the most privileged group within the LGBT+ community (as if you could make broad sweeping generalizations like that – i find this idea deeply troubling). People don't seem to feel the need to engage with mlm content that is actually aimed at gay men in order to better understand the experience they are writing. And it ... shows? Just because you yourself are queer doesn't mean that you automatically 100% understand the experience of people who are queer in a different way than you are. You are not immune to reproducing harmful stereotypes in your writing.

[gonuclear]

i’m so mad i could bite the bark off a tree so humor me in my ranting. 

i saw this tiktok and while agreeing with it, almost just scrolled past it. but i decided to take a look at the comments to see if anyone agreed with my long held sentiment, and boy was that comment section like taking hit after hit of psychic damage. because everyone in there was right. the one that stood out to me the most was one of the first comments on the video: “they only like us in captivity, not in the wild.” 

especially on tiktok there is this massive trend of characters becoming trends, of people cherry picking aspects of said character in order to make them more palatable to the masses. i can’t speak on wednesday because i haven’t seen it, so i’ll be using the other most recent example of eddie from stranger things. (also seeing as he was one of the characters mentioned in the original video.) yes, i will admit i am not immune to my enjoyment of a character being influenced by their popularity. this works both ways; my enjoyment may increase or decrease depending on the content i see and how i feel about the character (you see someone enough and you kinda get tired of them, y’know?). but what happens, primarily on tiktok, is something so much worse than a character just becoming popular. 

it’s a wash of (typically) neurotypical, able bodied women (though men are not excluded from this) who don these characters they “love” as a costume without ever acknowledging why these characters actually behave the way they do. they venerate and romanticize traits that they’ll turn around and bully neurodivergent kids, teens, and adults for because to them it’s just a character. that’s not how people really act. 

they make behaviors and actions that are overtly, or sometimes even stereotypically, neurodivergent into a trend and for what? what’s the fucking point? what’s the point if when someone who is actually neurodivergent says they relate to a character because of that fact and all they get is told no? there’s such an obsession among neurotypical people and mainstream media with having a token “weirdo” and i can damn fucking near tell you with absolute certainty that whatever character it is will be noticeably neurodivergent to anyone who is neurodivergent as well. 

it seems like the fucking second anyone who’s neurodivergent claims a character as one of their own neurotypicals who act like they’re the final authority on characters vehemently tell them that they’re wrong. thank god i and many other neurodivergent folks have found circles in which this is accepted, and oftentimes a common occurrence, because our experience of fandom would be so much worse without it. 

the weirdos are made for us. characters like eddie are made for the kids who played dnd, who listened to music they said belonged to the devil, who never fit in and never really wanted to. do you know how gratifying it is to see a character that’s just as loud and dramatic as you are on tv when you’ve been made fun of for the same thing your whole life? how it feels to see them be loved and appreciated and valued by their friends? the hope it gives you to see them be included, and never pushed away or ignored? 

there is a camaraderie built between these types of characters and their fans. a kinship, a bond formed when you look at a character and think “hey, they’re just like me”. but something in that bond is damaged when the kinds of people who would make fun of you, or make fun of the character should they exist in real life, try to change the narrative and say that character belongs to only them. they use the characters’ actions as trends then when neurodivergent people act that way in real life they’re recorded in public or have their videos reposted with captions making fun of them for just being themselves. i’m not saying you can’t enjoy a character, but at a certain point you have to realize that sometimes you’re not the target audience, and when the target audience speaks up you damn well better listen. 

[hishighnesstheprincess]

Transfem movie Sonic thoughts shoved under the cut. This isn’t gonna be super organized but eh, it’s Tumblr, who cares

Probably should start with the disclaimer that I am not a trans woman, and while I am trans and have a weird relationship with womanhood and femininity that I imagine lots of trans women can relate to, I cannot claim to speak for trans women as a collective in any way, shape, or form. Also while I like to stay up to date with good representation in media and how not to accidentally blunder into stereotypes that hardly means I’m immune from making mistakes. If you think I accidentally say something problematic then please feel comfortable telling me.

Also, my transfem headcanon is specific to movie Sonic, so movie Sonic will be referred to with female pronouns while other Sonics if I bring them up will be male pronouns.

Okay so, movie Sonic is a very unique depiction of Sonic in that she has been in basically survival mode for ten years since her mom died, and due to the fact that some of her mom’s last words to her were just telling her to stay hidden in order to stay safe Sonic has had basically nothing to do with herself, aside from projecting onto the townspeople (could go on for ages about how she immediately went from her strongest relationship being to Longclaw, her protector, to Tom, the “protector” of Green Hill but that’s a whole other text post) and consuming a lot of media while not actually knowing a lot about how human life works (knowing about stuff like the Civil War while also not knowing what a payphone is). Imo she has an idealized version of the American life and the life she wants stuck inside her head (hanging out with her bestie Tom all day and then going to crime fight at night like the superhero comics she reads) and due to the very... macho types of media she consumes (Flash comics, Keanu Reeves films, etc) she tries to convince herself that that’s the type of person she wants to be, even if some aspects just don’t fit. This headcanon came from me noticing that+ the fact that movie Sonic continually jokes about seeing herself as handsome, but the instant she’s alone in the second movie she refers to herself as the hedgehog of the house instead of the man of the house, and also she tries on a dress while having fun at the house before Knuckles and Eggman show up. And then I just latched onto it because I also think it’s just cute and fun.

So like, deconstructions of trauma, media, idealization, and a ton of other stuff aside, I also just have a lot of thoughts about transfem Sonic in general, of course primarily focused around egg cracking and her relationship with her family. I don’t think she’s had her egg cracked yet because among other things movie Sonic is definitely emotionally repressing everything that makes her feel even slightly bad or uncomfortable (and the idea of rocking the boat even slightly by being trans is def both of those things for her) as well as the idea of being trans herself just hasn’t occurred to her yet, I feel like she could have her egg cracked during movie 3 when coming into contact with other female Mobians for the first time in years (Amy and Rouge) and realizing that she actually quite likes some of the things that come along with the particular brands of femininity that Amy and Rouge are known for (kind, caring, yet tough for Amy and the very deliberate, strategic, and badass kind of femininity that comes with Rouge). I have this mental image of her just realizing it in the middle of a battle and then immediately getting hit by whoever her opponent is at the time. And then whenever the world is no longer in danger of being exploded or whatever she sits down and has a long (for her) think about it and is torn between absolute euphoria that she finally knows what these weird thoughts and feelings are and then being completely terrified, which I know was how I experienced my egg cracking moment. 

As for her family, obviously none of them are transphobic. Heck I don’t think even Eggman would be transphobic. Shadow might need the concept explained to them (enby Shadow is another headcanon of mine hehe) but they’d get it pretty easily. Tom would fall into the awkward but supportive camp, Maddie would just be like “Sweet I always wanted a daughter”, Tails would be surprised but then immediately connect this to a bunch of her past behaviors, and Knuckles would be aggressively supportive. If anyone even thinks of disrespecting his sister then the rest of his family will have to hold him back from murder. Amy would be like “oh my god GIRL time we have to go to salons together and get our nails done and and and” and Sonic has to awkwardly explain that just because she’s a girl doesn’t mean she likes all of the traditionally girly stuff (she will go shopping with Amy tho, specifically for clothes. She loves sporty gear but also is not immune to getting a rad skirt or dress with pockets on occasion). Rouge does not care (not in a bigoted way she just does not care all that much about other people). Shadow does not care either. Eggman does not care but will always use her correct pronouns when insulting her and it is the weirdest form of gender euphoria Sonic has or will ever experience. 

Anyway I have run out of coherent thoughts. This post shall just be incoherent headcanons and screaming now.

As soon as she realizes she’s trans she immediately starts worrying over whether ot not she’s gonna have to start wearing the super girly and uncomfortable clothes that she doesn’t like but then she tells Amy about being trans and Amy is like “You do know skirts can have pockets and actually be comfy right?” and Sonic goes :O

Shadow as Sonic’s rival would not care all that much about any aspect of her personal life but if someone disrespects her in front of them, they get very pissed even if just on principle

Metal Sonic is still a guy but that’s because he’s now trans in the opposite direction. They would bond over it but Metal hates Sonic’s guts for literally everything but the trans thing

Honestly idk about any other trans headcanons I have for movie characters (or potential future movie versions of game characters) but I feel like Sonic could potentially help crack the egg of anyone else who had yet to realize that they were trans as well

Sonic immediately after coming out declares herself the favorite daughter of the Wachowski siblings (her, Knuckles, and Tails) and then refuses to listen to any complaints that she is also the only daughter of the family

Because she’s been alone most of her life she has a lot of experience with like. Doing funny lil voices when she wanted to say stuff out loud (like how in the first movie she does the therapist voice and plays “multiple” people on the baseball field). So she actually has a decent girl voice even from the beginning and she only gets better from there. She’s also fully willing to do an annoying girl voice just to bug her brothers cus she’s still an absolute menace

Also she’s a lesbian who gets big crushes on any girl her age, especially girls that could kick her ass

Immediately starts making trans jokes after coming out

Anyway that’s it that’s the post. Post over goodbye everyone. Btw this goes without saying but if anyone is transphobic in my notes it is an instant block

[sarahhillips]

The Tea: An Intro

For Those That Hate Watching Videos and Prefer to Read Instead:

Greetings fellow Americans. If you’re watching this video and think, ‘That girl looks kind of familiar’, you’re not having deja vu, I’m physically standing before you. Since most of you don’t know who I am, allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Sarah Hiller, formerly Phillips, and from 2001 to 2002 I was the star of a show on PBS Kids called ‘Libertys Kids’. Libertys as in plural, not singular. It’s not ‘Liberty Kids’. But I won’t hold that against any of you because it happens all the time.

You’re probably wondering, ‘Sarah, what are you doing here?’ Well, I ended up here from my show and because I have no idea how to get back, I’m going to take advantage of the rights that were denied to me before.

Consider this a passion project if you will. Until the president bans TikTok or I get a cease and desist order from PBS, I’m going to be making videos where I, as you call it, ‘Spill the Tea’.

To say I was appalled when I first got here is an understatement. It took you people over a century to abolish slavery and you wouldn’t let (white) women vote until 1920. In addition, you people were such toddlers about having to wear a mask during the covid pandemic.

If you think wearing a mask makes you look stupid, try having smallpox. It’s not fun.

Then I find out that our government runs on a two-party system that does the opposite of uniting people. You can’t call yourselves the United States when a two-party system is causing all of you to bite and claw at each other. It’s like a game of political tug-of-war and it is exhausting.

It’s been nearly 250 years and this is the best your lawmakers are willing to do? That’s pathetic.

Don’t get me wrong, because I love to have sushi delivered while I binge John Oliver in an apartment that I pay for with my own money. I love walking through the city with a reusable cup that allows me to drink my tea on the go. I love having my own bank account with nobody around to tell me how to spend my money. I love that I got to vote in the last election. The workers and protestors who made these things possible are amazing.

In case you haven’t heard, the Supreme Court of the United States just voted to give the President complete immunity from any prosecution. So of say, the president sexually takes advantage of a young intern, word breaks out, and then she becomes the laughing stock of the country, he would not lose his job.

You know who else had immunity from prosecution? King George the Third. And if you watched my show or paid attention in your grade school history class, you know how that story ends. I’ll bet you if social media existed during colonial times, he’d also be tweeting from his chamberpot about those damn rebels ruining everything for him.

This kind of power should not be granted to anybody in a political position, because when you give a world leader this kind of power, they become dictators.

So needless to say, I’m not feeling very patriotic. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. I honestly regret switching sides and I’m starting to believe that Benedict Arnold had the right idea. My husband would be horrified if I told him this, but he’d be even more terrified when I’d explain why.

Today is the 4th of July and I’m not in a celebratory mood. No, I don’t want to go to a barbecue to celebrate independence and watch fireworks pollute the sky. What independence? You cannot be an independent nation when an evil orange threatens your way of living.

Plus, chances are that Kevin, the divorced deadbeat father of three, who believes that burger flippers don’t deserve a livable wage, will burn my burger to a crisp and only offer ketchup and mustard to put on it.

So today, I’m shutting myself away. I’m tired. And I know you’re tired too. It’s only human to be angry with your country, especially when your country does something like fund a genocide with your tax dollars. You don’t owe the United States unconditional devotion.

I’m looking at life through my own eyes, and it is bullshit. I’m ashamed of the United States, and that, my dears, is the tea. Thank you for watching. Be sure to like and follow for more Tea.

[defensefilms]

Jason Whitlock’s Pivot To RedPill Content Is Concerning

Okay, strap in, take a seat, grab a coffee, because I been wanting to address this topic for a minute, nahmean, and there’s a lot to unpack here, so let’s get it.

I remember the redpill content back in the day and it was different.

What you see now, with guys comparing bank acocunts, cars and status, and the absurd belief that women should automatically see this as something fit to marry, is relatively new to the space. This only started happening when older content creators entered the space, ie. Richard Cooper and Kevin Samuels.

In 2012, 2013, 2014, the kinds of conversations in this space were not glowing reviews of women in the dating market, they were also slightly more nuanced in how they happened, or they things they would note/talk about.

I’m glad a lot of these guys have found ways to get out and start looking for the relationships they want, because it’s important for a man.

Me, myself, I’m what dudes on Youtube would describe as a pookie/ray-ray type. I got these here few ways of making cash, a little spot, my Hyundai and a fly New Balance collection.

So while I am not some “high value” dude, I still empathize with a lot of the MGTOW guys, even speaking up for them sometimes, and it wasn’t like I was immune to dealing with the same situations or noticing the same types of things that they did. 

I can definitely see why a women will look at some of the “high value men” and have misgivings, because at the end of the day, money ain’t the only thing moving the needle with women.

I’ll keep it funky for you, Jason Whitlock being involved in the redpill space, discredits all redpill content.

This is a man that found ways to bash black women, even outside of the context of relationships or marriage, and if you don’t believe, then check some his commentary regarding Simone Biles and Serena Williams.

The reality is that people getting passports to see what’s going on in other parts of the country, or the world, is not a new thing. Why are these guys getting thier own label, or being placed in a new category for doing something that people have been doing for the longest of time?

Because you’re only a passport bro, if you travel abroad and say negative things about black women on the way out, too.

What this is about, is your boy Whitlock finding a way to turn “passport bros” into a right-wing talking point, because it helps/ falls in line with Republican sentiment regarding a demographic of people whose vote they’ll never be able to win in a Democratic/ free election.

That matters. Don’t sleep

Is Whitlock concerned about relationships or is this the new cash-grab because the pro-Trump nonsense ain’t getting the numbers that it used to?

Think about it. This is a man that has made so many egregious comments about a lot of things really. So knowing that, do you think it’s easy for bro to get interviews with current or former pro-athletes on his channel?

Hell nah.

Being associated with this guy is death to any athlete’s brand, that’s why he can only get retired players for interviews, if any at all.

Point is, this is not Whiltock stumbling on to something big for his channel, it’s more like a hail mary by a guy that can’t understand that Ben Shapiro and Steven Crowder fans don’t want to see him, and the Koch brothers won’t offer him anything close to what those other 2 are getting.

The thing that bothers me is why are Black women being singled out?

I don’t care if it looks like caping because in reality, the things passport bro’s are mad about are things you would see from any other demographic, but you actually need to get around in order to know that.

Latin men, Asian men, African men, European men, they all travel to find what they want, and they’re not going that far and wide because it’s convenient, it’s because they feel they have to in order to give themselves a shot at happiness.

So why is there an extra layer of criticism for Black women, when in reality this is an old trend, and all the other demographics have likely dealt with the same thing?

I’m not falling for the pump-fake, fam, especially not when Whitlock is interjecting himself out of fake love and concern.

I spend a lot of time on Youtube where people often disparage others based on looks and weight, and if Whitlock wanted to be a leader to the black community, he’d start by leading his ass to weight-watchers or at the very least a scale.

And as always, any post regarding Jason Whitlock must feature the image below, and this one is no different. 

[howldean]

I get that you’re a kid but you need to stop casually weaponizing the mass murder of my grandparents entire family, including their baby siblings. Using casual Shoah and Nazi references to try and score rhetorical points on the internet is what’s known as soft Holocaust denial. You take our horrific trauma and you belittle it, you demean it, you belittle and demean and deny your own soul in despicably waving around the horrors we experienced in order to what? Make yourself feel important online? Cut it out, now. Find better ways of arguing that don’t involve making yourself complicit in evil. Which is what minimizing Shoah trauma inherently is.

(heads up that there is a photo of a book burning further down on this post)

hey, thanks for this ask. above all else, i'm always interested in learning and doing better, and like you said i get that i am still a kid. i am not immune to speaking out of turn or being undereducated just because i'm heavily intersectionalized. so for context, the account covid2049 was spewing typical trans exclusionary rhetoric, bullshit, and excused on a post of mine about trans happiness. if you pull up this account and scroll through even a few posts you can see that they are EXTREMELY transphobic and xenophobic, seemingly identifying as a radical feminist and exhibiting a lot of the behaviors and beliefs of a neo-nazi. i responded to their comment about 'trans theory' being bullshit by saying that we have a nazi on our hands, and then expanding on that by referencing book burnings, and transgender science. documentation of the trans experience has existed for centuries, they were just obtuse and ignorant.

you can read about trans experience in nazi germany here (the museum of jewish heritage) and magnus hirschfeld's institute for sexual research in berlin - the first trans clinic on record which provided hrt, surgeries for trans women, queer sex education, housed a massive queer/trans library, and more - which was stormed by nazis, and over 20,000 of their books were burned here (scientific american)

looking at my replies, i likely could have worded things better, but i'll admit that i can't really understand how drawing the textual experiences of queer and trans people in nazi germany is trying to "make [myself] feel important online" AGAIN i cannot stress enough that i'm entirely open to hearing feedback and additional input, and i also respect if you don't feel inclined to educate me, it's not your responsibility to.

but i'm failing to see what's wrong with calling nazism what it is

[carmenthabaddie]

This app is buggy. I can never do a post one and done. Draft don’t save or i don’t know where it is. Let me start over. Today for New Years I paid my bills, gifted people money and ordered 3 wigs and paid for subscriptions. And treated myself to McDonald’s and Dominoes.

Gone take photos of food in Zero fasting app. And pay for yearly subscription since 2024 I want be serious about intermittent fasting and nothing longer than 20:4. Fast no shorter than 16:8. Staying away from omad and adf.

I am not gone calorie count im gone take photos of meals and portion control. And healthy swaps. And eat in moderation. No calories in drinks. And most of all dirty fast. And don’t overdo getting takeout and junk food. And meal prep and schedule my meal prepping days.

Don’t got worry about being ready when I can stay ready. Plan to win. Being intentional with my choices. Make good choices and get shit you honestly deserve and make bad choices you get the hands dealt to you. You don’t have to be perfect all you need to do is give it your all.

I worked out today for 30 minutes and dedicated to working out and food going to my ass and boobs. David my sp gone pay for my personal training sessions and plastic surgery in Miami. I will work towards getting to 200 in 3 months. And eventually get to 160 pounds and be size 5 and small. Slim thick petite body.

It’s my time to shine. Weight will melt off and gone keep getting high and being committed, dedicated, disciplined, consistent and determined. And never having a pity party and no complaining or feeling sorry for myself. I will be women plastic surgery goals. I want to be plastic like Barbie.

Staying away from alcohol too many calories and getting high and spacing it out. And affirm for cold this coughing go away. It’s going away I honestly feel. Spirit and ancestors taking cough away.

I’m affirming for cough go away and good health and affirm for perfect never get sick health. Research what I can eat and drink to build my immune system. I’m gone buy juice shots.

And juice more. And plan two day juice fast. I hate coughing but at least it’s not worst. Praise spirit and beautiful black ancestors.

I ordered 3 wigs. All from Amazon. Two synthetic wigs and one human hair virgin wig. All blonde colors. Blondes do have more fun. I want a lavender human hair virgin wig that won’t break the bank.

It’s important to have hair, nails, feet and lashes done and pre scheduled so I’m always on point. And gone start wearing my nicer clothes in public and show social media my outfit of the day.

I logged my information in astrology and moon phase apps. I’m gone use both to live my dream life. And manifest going to The Hood Healer for reading and David and I get a love reading. And reading from medium to see what spirits and ancestors around me and name of my spiritual ability.

So blessed to have spirit and black ancestors in me. And telling me what to do and say. It’s blessing to have this connection and this connection is forever and I’m never dying period. Im immortal. Im a passionate vampire and so is David.

I subscribed to The Hood Healers only fans and few Patreons. It’s some other classes and subscriptions I want. Got iPhone subscriptions.

This year I’m in it to win it. Taking full accountability for my life and habits and letting go of laziness and bad habits and inconsistencies. And my coaching follow up with Destiny the confident hoe was amazing she was proud of my growth and gave good advice like long lost sister. It’s my time to shine.

I also got 1X dresses from Fashion Nova to track my progress when losing weight. Got idea from YouTube.

[casspurrjoybell-23]

Berserkr - Chapter 1 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

"Alright, get yer'self together then. Finished off the last of these imbeciles, ye' did. Rest of the bond already returned to base. Follow."

He turned on his heel, going back the way he came with that same, odd hop-skip-and-dance around puddles of carnage.

Einar followed the order blindly without a single word of protest, shrinking his wide gait to a fraction of its usual length to compensate for his master's much shorter legs.

It had always been like this.

His master... Guiscard... had once told him that he'd been sold as a toddler by parents who were more desperate for a few gold coins than they were to keep him.

So instead of loving parents, the Alpha's earliest memories consisted of a village that thrived on war, on pillaging the highest mountains and lowest valleys.

A village that thrived on bloodshed.

And of course, from the very moment that he could walk, he was conditioned, trained to become a killing machine, an order-following drone whose individuality was scraped out like the insides of a gourd and replaced with anything that Guiscard wanted.

And Guiscard wanted everything.

"Ye' know, I'm feelin' generous today. Ye' scored me such a win that ye' get yer pick of the spoils," Guiscard prodded, smirk turning suggestive as they approached the base.

Einar's master gestured to the short line of about fifteen men and women who wore expressions of trauma, all connected by heavy, rusted shackles on both their wrists and ankles that clanked when shifting position.

"What do you say, 'eh? I'm sure one of 'em appeals to 'ye. Take a look."

Einar only glanced at their faces out of courtesy to his master's ever-so-gracious offer but the Alpha already knew his answer.

Einar only hurt others out of necessity, out of fear for his own life.

Or better yet, what Guiscard would do to make his life a living hell if he didn't obey every single order.

He remembered the first time that he was put into battle at the ripe age of eleven and he especially remembered glimpsing his reflection in the river on the trek back from the burning village.

It looked as if he was covered in more blood than skin and he'd immediately thrown his measly breakfast right back up, directly into that dreadful reflection.

Over time his brain had learned to adapt to inflicting such ghastly acts, to become immune, to shut out the reality of the pain that he was forced to inflict on innocent people on a daily basis.

It was the only way to cope.

But if it were only his choice... something that he could never hope to have... Einar would never let a single speck of pain be caused by his fingertips ever again.

At least, not for those who didn't deserve it.

"Thank you, master," Einar finally spoke, the sound deep and crinkly, akin to the crushing of fall leaves.

"But I am not worthy," he finished, years of experience with his master's temperament instilling the knowledge that self-depreciation was the only way to convince the man of certain things.

Guiscard snorted, shaking his head as he traipsed over to the horse cart that held a different kind of spoil of war.

The stout man lifted a few of the precious items that they'd stripped the village of up to his eye to inspect them while he responded.

"What decent man denies the pleasures of the flesh when it's dropped right at their damn feet? Ye' are one idiotic specimen, Einar."

He shooed the Alpha with a hand, fixated on a particularly interesting necklace with jewels embedded into the chain.

"Go join the other bonded since yer too scared to be a real man."

Einar blinked, adjusting the weight of the bearskin that sat atop his shoulders before making his way toward the small group of other Berserkrs... slaves that also belonged to Guiscard's extensive harem of servants.

Taking a seat on a free patch of grass, he watched wordlessly while his brethren... just as drenched in blood as he... tied bones, pieces of cloth and various other spoils of their own around necklaces, waist-skins and bandoliers.

To many, it was tradition, a symbol of strength and power to wear the evidence of one's slaughter with an excessive level of pride that Einar could never quite understand.

After all, no matter how much they tried to portray the strength of their physical prowess, it would never change the fact that their bodies... their entire lives... were the contractual property of another.

His bearskin was his only spoil, if one could even call it that.

Yes, he'd killed the bear himself but he only wore the skin to fend off the bitter chill of the night when they slept out in the open on treks back to camp.

As Einar sat, empty-eyed and fixated on a single piece of grass, he pondered Guisard's words.

'Pleasures of the flesh.'

Einar had experienced pleasure before, many times in fact. Albeit, it had occurred in... less-than-optimal... situations.

You see, Guiscard had a tendency to lose himself in the prickly palms of greed.

And Einar... with a body built like a battle ox and only a few inches shy of seven feet... was a once-in-a-lifetime find.

But even with this rare gem in his possession, the man was far from satisfied.

So, the Beta took matters into his own hands.

If he couldn't find another Einar, he would make one.

Einar had been locked in a barn with a countless number of Omegas during the peak of his ruts, subsequently plunging said Omegas into the throws of heat themselves.

As much as he hated himself for it, it was an inevitable situation.

Every time, he would be unable to resist the core instincts that were written into the very genetics of his being.

He'd breed the Omega.

He'd apologize to the Omega more times than numbers could count.

The Omega would become with child.

His child would be born.

And then... disappointment surmounting at Einar's apparent lack of ability to produce an Alpha and frustrated at the concept of yet another mouth to feed in their village... Guiscard would simply order one of his bonds to 'get rid of it'.

His child.

His children.

Einar blinked, shifting his gaze to a different blade of grass before he could get too wrapped up in the thought.

After all, he was just a slave.

He had no choice in the matter.

And this was how his life was to be.

He would live this way until he got killed became too injured to fight or Guiscard decided he wasn't of use anymore in his older age.

"Get off yer lazy asses," Guiscard's voice rang out and Einar's half-braided hair slipped over a shoulder when he turned his head to look.

The stout man was getting situated on his black stallion that he loved to look down at his indentured from while one of his personal aides put away the stool that he had to use to mount the tall thing.

"We got a two-day trek back home. I'm even bein' generous and givin' y'all a whole day of restin' before the next raid. Ye'd do best to assume yer places before I got time to rethink."

Pushing to standing, Einar shifted his bear once again when the beast's teeth threatened to cut into his jaw.

It was only a short walk back to the horse cart that held the majority of the riches they'd pillaged the village dry of and more familiar with this process than with the concept of his own existence, the Alpha promptly secured the leather harness to his chest.

It would be a long two days as he pulled the cart single handed but he was the only one big enough, strong enough, to handle the task.

After all, it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter.

After all, Einar was just a slave.

[timbarrus]

Washing Kree’s Hair

I used to give Kree baths in the kitchen sink. Hold still. I’m washing your hair.

Dirt Bike Town is bursting with kids.

They all want a bike. They all get one. All drugs are free. Yes. All of them.

I get to decide what happens to characters I invent. They would be my heros and my victims. The only power I have in life is the power to create characters you will remember, and the whole dog and pony shows comes with.  

It’s a novel. It’s a novel. It’s a novel.

That means it’s fiction.

I am making it up and any relationship in this book is conflicted. Because we are all conflicted. If not with one issue, then it’s another issue. It’s set in the not so distant future.

You can’t go back. In time. The physicists who are insinuating that time travel backwards is possible, are not being honest.

Most of them have blogs about theoretical physics. With tens of thousands of followers. They steadfastly consume this stuff In order to travel back in time, physics would have to become something it has not yet confronted with the enormously warped mass any wormhole worth the name will be imbued with all the miscalculation, the stereotypes, the cultural myths speaking in warning shots across the bow. All species are up for grabs. In the past, we lost a few. Now, we are losing everything because our respect for life is manifestly an illusion. We shit where we eat. We are unable to fundamentally change. The inability to deal with change will be the end of us.

How DO you get out of Dodge.

I know this. You won’t. Discover. How. We are in this struggle to survive, together. Even if I loathe you. Even if I know in my heart that you are evil.

Evil. Is. Us.

I used to give Kree baths in the kitchen sink. Water was a result of the handpump at the bottom of the hill. You ran down there with your empty pails, and you filled them up, lugging them, and losing half the water in the bucket, you were intent to bring the pails one at a time to the kitchen where the nerve center of the house pulsated with survival and stamina.

I will never forget this farm of sheep and goats and horses and cows and wildlife everywhere you looked. The river was thick with fish. There are none of those rivers left. The wild tamed out of them to what end.

Has anyone been to Lake Powell recently. I made a detour there on my bike. The extent to which we have turned Lake Powell into a sewer is a show stopper. I almost could not breathe. I have been here so many times, but today, Lake Powell and the Rio Grande are skeletons. The Rio Grande gave Scottsdale pools.

You have abused it. All of your toxicity dumped into it without a thought. In Ohio, a carmaker dumped its chemical waste down a water drain pipe. Please do not turn your faucets on. Fire could come out of them. You could roast some hot dogs.

They just do not care. Not about you. Not about me. Not about anyone. The Normals are focused on one thing that is the myth greed. Greed is not a fortress. You could hold out a bit.

But the Roman soldiers are scaling the rock. The same men who raped your women and boys, and how is it that they are always left out, boys expunged from the gender stories we live by as to who we are and what we are and what motivates us to be the top dog of anywhere, anywhere. Your water is at risk. You are not immune. It will all happen to you, too, in fact, it’s happening as we stand around going duh.

An ICBM is about more than a message. They rape us. We rape them. We know where it all begins -- war -- but we have no idea how it will end.

We are still blowing families up. We are still supporting genocide. We are raping entire Indian Nations -- such as Columbian Deep Jungle native tribes -- in our wide-spread insatiable greed for energy, and if they leave their culture’s sitting in the ruins of their lives, digging for gold in the toxic mud, we are the whip that draws their blood.  

The issue is always rape. You can rape Homo sapiens with impunity. But raping an entire planet is suicide. Why are you here.

I learned to drive at ten. Tractors were an obsession. I would drive down to the Grand River with my dog, and sit there and watch the river travel to eternity. We would sneak into the showers at the state park. It was not allowed because we were not camping there (how is it that you get to camp in a bus the size of France). I would towel Kree off. Bite toes. Laugh. What a vile species we are. I pray hard that we will never find aliens. Tomorrow, I will wash Krees hair again.

[zawazawanightmares]

Ganondorf & Supergirl

You, Ganondorf, are connected to Supergirl Your partner selected the 18+ server.

Ganondorf: And just who are you?

Supergirl: Uh, hi there. I'm Supergirl. I like your cape.

Ganondorf: Thank you. I had it made from the finest silk by the steadiest hands from the Hyrulian kingdom...before I chopped them off. What are you doing here?

Supergirl: Not sure, to be honest. Some mutliverse shit, I guess? Can we go back to the part where you said you chopped off someone's hands?

Ganondorf: What is this multiverse you speak of? And what do you care about a bunch of handless Hyrulians?

Supergirl: "Do guys not get the multiverse here? You're missing out. What's a hyrulian, lets start there before I decide whether or not I care."

Ganondorf: Hrrm...a Hyrulian is a member of a race that I subjugated for my own purposes. They are the ones who were bestowed with the Triforce by the Goddesses in the past. I myself have the Triforce of Power and I am looking to obtain the Triforce of Wisdom as well as the Triforce of Courage.

Supergirl: "Hmmm... that means nothing to me. Are they, like, people?"

Ganondorf: In a matter of speaking, yes. They actually greatly resemble you...give or take a few skin tones and with pointier ears.

Supergirl: Oooh... I'm not sure I like this whole subjugation talk. My cousin says I gotta think first punch later but damn you're making it hard...

Ganondorf: Excuse me? If you have a problem with my rule then you are welcome to do something about it. Mind you, better men and women have tried.

Supergirl: Doubt you've ever met a man or woman like me. Let's try this out, a nice formal duel, if I win you leave the Hyrulians alone, and if you win, I dunno, I guess I leave you alone?

Ganondorf: If I win, I will take your skull and add it to the collection I keep to remind others of the consequences that come with not kneeling in deference.

Supergirl: Hmm, yeah sure that sounds agreeable.

Ganondorf: Very well. *clenches his fist which lights aflame with dark energy* You may approach me when ready.

Supergirl: *She shoots out a ray of heat vision, aimed square at his chest*

Ganondorf: *creates a force-field of energy that blocks the blast* I see you have abilities of your own. Rather powerful ones at that.

Supergirl: Yeah, I guess I punch above my weight class. Not too bad yourself.

Ganondorf: Still, let's see how well you are on defense. *summons a ball of dark energy and throws it at her*

Supergirl: *The projectile moves too slow for someone with superspeed, she dodges it* Why don't we skip to the bit where you go all out, otherwise I might be here all day.

Ganondorf: All out, you say? Yes...I suppose you're too powerful to toy with. *inhales and begins to expel a dark smoke from his mouth; the smoke takes on the form of a giant pig-creature in front of him who has a hazy form* I will proceed to fight you with all that I have! *teleports from his spot to right behind Supergirl, winding back a fist of dark energy*

Supergirl: *she whirls around and blasts him with heat vision again, using her flight to try and propel herself out of range of the attack*

Ganondorf: *the heat vision hits him in the back causing him to grunt as the pig spirit swipes at her while she's in the air*

Supergirl: *she raises her arms to block the hit*

Ganondorf: *the swipe knocks her to the ground and skids her, apparently not doing much damage; Ganon points into the air and summons lightning of dark magic to strike while she's prone on the ground*

Supergirl: *she doesn't stay still, propelling herself towards him at full speed in order to punch him square in the snout, confident that she can outspeed the lightning bolt*

Ganondorf: *several more bolts follow afterwards, one managing to strike her...but her momentum doesn't stop, allowing her to hit the projection head on and dispel it*

Supergirl: *she grits her teeth in frustration. she might be strong enough to shrug off the bolt, but she's not immune. Eventually enough hits will wear her down.* I really hate magic...

Ganondorf: *teleports over to her and reaches down to grab her* And I hate disobedience. Now I will show you how I deal with cretins of your ilk.

Supergirl: *she slaps his hand away with full force, not bothering to hold back her strength.* Don't get cocky just cause you landed a hit!

Ganondorf: *is shocked that she has this much strength as his hand falls limp, throbbing with pain* ...Very well. *takes a breath and begins to summon dark energy within himself* I'll show you the true power...of a being with enough will to seek it!

Supergirl: *she blitz him, relying on her speed to land as many hits as she can before he has time to finish whatever it is that he's doing*

Ganondorf: *the sheer speed and force of the blitz clearly wounds him, causing him to bleed all over as Supergirl can feel bones crack from her blows; still, he finishes charging and, using her proxmitiy to him, grabs her and slams her to ground, unleashing a high amount of dark energy to try and shatter her as he shatters the ground beneath her*

Supergirl: *The ground gave way, but Kara did not. She was not unharmed though. Her head rung and her vision blurred. A trickle of blood ran down from her nostril*

Ganondorf: *panting, he forces himself to stand above her* You still breathe. I see they make them strong where you come from. *points his open palm to the sky to summon another lightning strike* One more...with more energy...should spell the end of you.

Supergirl: *she takes a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out. Her exhales are gale force winds at subzero temperatures, attempting to freeze Ganon in place*

Ganondorf: *Ganon clearly begins to freeze over, his grimace stiffening as ice forms around him; still, an even more powerful bolt of dark energy lightning crashes through the ceiling, ready to strike her...*

Supergirl: *With the Demon King slowed by the ice breath and her nearly unmatched speed, she's able to pick him up and use his bulk to to shield herself from the bolt*

Ganondorf: *Ganon shouts in agony as the bolt fries him, causing his eyes to go white as he is knocked out by the bolt, going limp in her hands*

Supergirl: *She tosses him aside, panting for breath and in utter disbelief of her victory. She collapses to her knees as the magical effects from the previous bolt still ravage her, but she remains conscious.*

Ganondorf: (Zelda): *walks in, surprised* ...I kind of expected a Hyrulian boy to be here but...I guess he hasn't woken up yet? Did you do this?

Supergirl: *Kara looks up, equally surprised* Holy shit, he wasn't lying. We do look alike.

Ganondorf: Yes but you aren't Hyrulian, clearly. Who are you?

Supergirl: *She relaxed and collapsed fully onto her back, sprawled out and staring at the warm sun* I'm Kryptonian. From another planet in another dimension, if that makes any sense to you.

Ganondorf: I...you are of Celestial origin? That explains...this. *looks back at Ganon's smouldering form before kneeling by her* Miss, you have saved the land of Hyrule, and possibly the rest of the planet, ahead of schedule. For that, I thank you.

Supergirl: Don't mention it, it's what I do... Is he dead?

Ganondorf: Most likely. But he will just come back in a 100 years. Resurrection is one of his dark abilities...even if it takes a while to work.

Supergirl: That's a shame... Hey you're not secretly evil are you? Sometimes I'll defeat a big obvious bad guy and then it turns out he was just holding back a bigger less obvious bad guy. That's not whats happening here, right?

Ganondorf: *giggles* No, this is the final boss. If you want, I can give you a favor of some sort before I work towards restoring the kingdom.

Supergirl: *she picks herself up from the ground, using her flight to assist herself.* "I think I'm good. You know it's lucky this wasn't some sort of twilight realm cause I would have gotten my ass kicked without the sun..."

Your partner left the chat

[deliciouswastelandgoddess]

I may have fucked around and kinned Gideon

[wakaoujisenhime]

Hello! Lots of love to you. 😘 can I request GoM+ Takao thinks reader is going to breakup with them but is actually not. It can be funny misunderstanding or angst anything really. Happy ending.

A/N: Lots of kisses for you my dear anon! 💋 I tried to keep them all the same length, but guess what?? I failed (✌︎ ՞ਊ ՞)✌︎ Hope you’ll enjoy these nonetheless!! <33

Tags: GoM and Takao x reader ✅ SFW ✅ fluff ✅ angst ✅ jealousy ✅

image/art source: Takao -> Pixiv (by もいさま)

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Kuroko:

Being in a relationship with Kuroko was filled with nothing but tranquility and love. The two of you rarely had any type of conflict with each other, but one very urgent problem you’d always had in mind was the lack of communication. Because your boyfriend was so silent and barely complained whenever something was amiss, you tended to misunderstand each other…

One morning after you’d entered Seirin’s school building, you immediately caught a glimpse of your blue-haired boyfriend, and just as you were about to go up to him and greet him with your usual hug, he wordlessly turned his back to you and disappeared in the crowd. His behavior was quite unusual, but you figured that he just didn’t see you and went on with your day.

Unfortunately, the young man kept showing you the cold shoulder on that day, and by the end of his team’s basketball training, he’d even gone back home before you.

“Did something between you two happen?” asked Kagami as soon as he saw your dejected reaction to the unexpected news. Your grip on your school bag’s rims tightened and you simply shook your head.

“Not that I’m aware of anything…”

“Then why don’t you just ask him?”

His teammates stared daggers at the tall young man who had once again said something insensitive, but to you, it was a simple summary of the constant problem between your lover and yourself, so you couldn’t help but giggle at his question and nod.

——

Just where have you hidden yourself Tetsu?!

Annoyance had distorted your usually calm facial features and was chasing away any of your classmates that hoped to approach you for whatever reasons. After Kagami had given you the necessary push you needed, you made it your mission to find your lover and confront him once and for all, but he was nowhere to be found. No matter who you asked, where you went, what you did, it was as if he never came to school. At times such as these, his low presence proved to be pretty useful and a damn nightmare for you, but you stayed vigilant and even decided to make use of some…unexpected tactics.

During the second break, you sprinted to your lover’s classroom, knowing fully well that he was already gone, and called for his partner, who only very reluctantly agreed to accompany you during your search. The plan you’d forged relied entirely on Kagami’s strong presence that - according to his teammates - was so strong that even the people who saw him daily couldn’t help but stare at him. You knew that Kuroko was more or less immune to this and preferred to look down at his book, so you were positive that with this plan you’d find the odd one out of the crowd pretty easily.

Luckily for you, the plan was a success and after just a couple of minutes you’d caught sight of the familiar blue hair, but when you locked eyes with your loved one, a sharp pain ran through your chest. Kuroko looked heartbroken and had to bite his lip to hide his anger and tears.

“(Y/N), this is your chance! Go! Run!”

The unexpected encouragement from the man next to you managed to wake you up from your trance and not even a second later you were running after your lover. Fortunately for you, he wasn’t that quick and on top of that, you were convinced that he ran extra slower than usual because somewhere deep inside of him he wanted to talk to you as well.

“(Y/N)…I-”

“We can’t continue like this Tetsu,” you began and intended to take a small breather before you continued, but the anxious face of your counterpart made you reconsider, “what I mean to say is, that we can’t ignore our constant misunderstandings due to miscommunication. I love you Tetsuya and whenever I am with you everything is nearly perfect, but we need to do something about your aversion of expressing your opinion and my reluctance to speak up about it.”

You couldn’t blame him for being so surprised that he couldn’t answer instantly since you surprised even yourself with how direct you were. Just as you were about to break the uncomfortable silence between you two, Kuroko unexpectedly wrapped his arms around you in a hug.

“Thank god…I thought you wanted to leave me for Kagami-kun.”

“Excuse me, what? Why would I-” you stopped for a moment and remembered the scene he saw just a couple of minutes ago before you corrected him, “…I needed his help to find you, since all of my earlier attempts were futile against the legendary Phantom Sixth man, you know?”

And with that small joke, you both chuckled, kissed each other, and decided to spent the rest of the break hand-in-hand, while you resolved the small thorn in your relationship.

Kise:

Being Kise’s lover was pretty tiresome and restricting. Since he was a famous model a lot of rules had to be followed by not only him but you as well.

Any selfies you took are not to be shared with anyone and not to be published. Bragging about him as your boyfriend was out of the question. Public dates? I think not.

When his manager had first thrown all of these at you, you were pretty stomped and ready to burst with anger, but he stopped you and after your talk, Kise reassured you that you would still do the majority of the things “normal” couples do, but you’d simply have to be more careful and aware of your surroundings than others. You trusted him of course and he didn’t lie, in fact, he made an enormous effort to provide you with a proper love life, one that you deserved. Much to your surprise, everything was working out just fine and you got used to the abnormalities of some situations pretty quickly, but as we all know life can rarely be filled with nothing but sunshine and rainbows…

-` EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH MODEL №1 KISE RYOUTA ´-

That was the headline of one of the many magazines your boyfriend was featured in. You always made sure to show your support for his career by buying almost every issue that had a section dedicated to your blond lover, that and the fact that the photographers and designers always made him look hotter than he already was. With a big grin on your face, you browsed the magazine until you found the corresponding pages and began reading yet another interview.

At first, the questions were pretty standard and tame, asking the young model what his future plans were, how he manages school, basketball club, and modeling without being stressed out at all, and many more similar questions such as these. Being his significant other, you caught a few lies of his that he had to make up in order to keep your relationship a secret and even though it didn’t sit entirely right with you, you brushed it off since you knew that he couldn’t help it. With mixed feelings, you read on until one particular question and answer caught your eye.

-` Q: A lot of your female fans have been constantly speculating about what type of boyfriend you’d make, what’s your take on that subject?

-` A: (laughs) Well you see, I hate to break it to everyone, but I like the type of women that don’t tie me down. I just can’t imagine myself being with the same person every single day, it’d be quite suffocating, you know?

You stared at that answer for a while, hoping that the words would just merge into something that didn’t sound so…ruthless, but to no avail. Just as you were about to continue your lecture, the front door to your apartment opened and the familiar voice of your lover echoed, filling your home with more life than before. While the blond removed his shoes and jacket you quickly hid away the magazine and forced yourself to smile, hoping that he wouldn’t notice…

——

“You damn idiot, what were you thinking?!”

“Oh (Y/N)…what do you even see in him?”

“I have never been more pissed off to be in the same team as you…”

The moment Kise had entered the gym to participate in today’s training all of his teammates had surrounded him and had begun reprimanding him for something he couldn’t quite understand because of how chaotic everyone was. It took a while, but when they became more or less calm he used to chance to find out just what’s got them so pissed off.

“Isn’t it obvious you imbecile?! That over the top answer of yours is what we’re so mad about”

“Kasamatsu-senpai I can’t quite follow…what answer are you referring to?”

After being kicked down by the shorter man and lectured yet another time, Kise finally understood just what this fuss was about. You’d been quite out of it since his latest interview got published, so the guys decided to find out what had you so bothered and the answer was, of course, Kise…who else?

“B-But I didn’t mean it! It was just for show an–”

“Does (Y/N) know?” interrupted Moriyama with an unusually serious tone. Your lover intended to answer fully confident that you were aware, but a small voice inside of his mind stopped him in his tracks. How were you supposed to know that he didn’t mean it when he never explained himself? What if the reason you’d been so absentminded these past few days was that you were planning on leaving him?

N-No…I can’t let that happen…i-if we break up then what am I–

“Excuse me, is Kise here?”

At the unexpected sound of your voice all of the members instantly shut up, turning to you, but before anyone could answer you, the blond took off sprinting right towards you and wrapping his muscular arms around your body.

“Please forgive me (Y/N)-cchi, I…I figured we’d been over this and that you know that no matter what I say to the press, I never really mean it. It’s all supposed to be a façade to make me more attractive to the public, b-but you know me, right? The real, insecure, weak, and ambitious me…the one that’s no good without you…”

Even if he’d taken you by surprise with his sudden hug, his words rendered you pretty much immobile and left you with no choice but to listen to his desperate apology. He held you tighter and buried his face in the crack of your neck. The moment you felt something wet drip down on your clothing, you wrapped your arms around him protectively, gently caressing his head, and kissing his temple all the while he whispered one apology after the other, begging you to never leave his side.

“I won’t ever leave you, Kise…I promise”

Midorima:

“…and with that, we’re coming to today’s last and unfortunately most unluckiest signs of all…Cancer!”

At the sudden announcement, Midorima flinched, grip tightening on his iPod, as he continued listening to his daily horoscope. His sign being the unluckiest out of all was quite the rarity and that alone was worrisome, but the fact that today’s misfortune was predicted to be in his love life made the man the more afraid. Usually, he’d ignore any prognosis that went beyond his career, but the moment you had become his girlfriend, Midorima couldn’t help but lend an ear every time the presenter of his favorite show mentioned the word love.

Your lover’s flame for you has been near extinction, I suggest breaking up with them before they do, or else this pain will haunt you for eternity…

With heavy steps, the green-haired man made his way to his school, lucky item in hand and a never before experienced fear deeply rooted in his heart. If possible he’d try to avoid you as much as possible today, so that you couldn’t break things off with him. He was aware that his behavior was quite over the top, but that was his way to cope with the anxiety of losing you - his most important person. In Midorima’s eyes this was a solid plan, but putting it into action was harder than expected.

Every time you jogged up to him with your angelic smile, your big and beautiful eyes that sparkled the moment you saw him, the energetic way you waved to your boyfriend when you spotted him across the hallway were so adorable and heart-warming that whenever he had to act extra cold towards you, it felt like his heart was being torn apart anew every single time. While he was beating himself up over his behavior, you simply shrugged it off and figured that he was on his usual tsundere trip for some reason and decided to ask him about it after basketball practice.

“Shin-chan sure is acting weird today, huh?” asked Takao with a hint of amusement in his voice as he sat down next to you on a bench in the courtyard. You simply looked up at him and nod with resigned smile on your face as you answered: “I’m somehow used to his antics, but something must’ve happened for him to act so…distant.”

The boy next to you studied your expression and despite his usual enjoyment of watching a misunderstanding between the two of you unfold, he could see how much the green-haired man’s behavior was weighing on you, so he broke his silence and told you about Midormia’s plan that he’d schemed following today’s horoscope.

——

“Midorima Shintarou, we need to talk…now!”

Your loud and sudden order startled the young man in gym clothes, who was mere movements away from throwing his umpteenth three-pointer, as well as his teammates. If it weren’t for the serious tone in your voice, he would’ve come up with some kind of excuse to dodge the upcoming conversation.

Now that the two of you were outside of the gym you didn’t beat around the bush and got straight to the point: “Are you seriously avoiding me all day because of Oha Asa’s words? Is that how little you believe in me and my feelings for you?” Your boyfriend never quite knew how to deal with such straightforwardness and seeing how with each question you uttered, the tears in the corners of your eyes grew, pushed him even further into a corner until he couldn’t handle it anymore and just needed to shut you up. Out of nowhere Midorima took a tight hold of your shoulders, seizing your frantic movements, and pressed his lips firmly to yours, kissing you in the process.

“…now that I finally have your attention, allow me to explain myself, will you?” he asked and waited for your nod before he continued “Look…I know I overreacted and to be honest, my behavior bothered me more than you think. I was just…j-just so afraid to lose you. Up until now everything Oha Asa said came true, s-so–”

Before he could finish his sentence, it was your turn to kiss him on the lips and use his moment of confusion to stop the train of negative thoughts that were about to overwhelm him. “I love you Shintarou…more than any horoscope could ever hope to calculate and sure, every time you listen to this show it all comes true, but did you forget that my sign is on that show as well?”

Your sudden question caught him a little of guard, but the moment you pulled something small out of your pocket he couldn’t help but smile to himself as a light blush spread across his cheeks.

“Unfortunately for you, today is my lucky day and your beloved presenter advised me to be more assertive than what I’m used to, and show my lover just how much he means to me.”

Aomine:

With quick steps, you neared the basketball club’s gym while frantically looking around for your boyfriend, who’d once again decided to ditch today’s training and laze around somewhere.

“Captain, we might have a problem!” you shouted out the moment you entered the building, ready to break the unpleasant news to the young man in glasses, who looked surprisingly relaxed, even though one of his best players was missing yet again. But before you could even say anything he simply put his hand up, motioning you to look behind him with his head, and there you saw the wanted man, crouched down while reading something.

With a heavy sigh, you joined Imayoshi and Wakamatsu, who was looking at the power forward with hopeless and annoyed expressions. After explaining to them that you couldn’t find him at his usual spots, you asked how they got him to join practice that quick.

“Oh you know…the usual” the blond said as he tapped a few times on his mobile phone, searching for something, and the moment he found it, he showed you the typical photo with which they always managed to catch Aomine: one of his favorite gravure magazines being held above a candle’s flame. You eyed the image a tad longer than what the men next to you were used to and then replied drily: “I see.”

The two players you were standing next to, were quite surprised by your reaction and couldn’t tear their eyes from your back as you walked towards the bench where their coach and manager were seated. They wanted to brush it off at first but the moment you had sat yourself down, your sad expression managed to guilt-trip them to such an extent that they immediately walked to the dark-skinned young man to lecture him.

“Aomine, you idiot, stop reading these things already!”

Said man didn’t even flinch at the sudden scream from the blond and continued looking through his magazine. Wakamatsu was already agitated enough and ready to throw punches at his sitting teammate, but the captain stopped him with an unobtrusive head-shake and took his chance not short after: “Ya see…your cute girlfriend’s over ‘ere and she looks mighty disappointed at the fact that ‘er boyfriend gives some random women more love ‘n attention than ya give ‘er. If ya keep that up, then who knows what could happen.”

It didn’t take much to annoy or upset your boyfriend and if you were as tactful as Imayoshi, you could do it whenever you felt like it, but this time he intended to make the man before him aware of what seemed to be a minor problem.

The two of them watched as Aomine finally closed his magazine and stood up, a terrifying glare fixated on the wall before him, and hissed out: “My relationship with (Y/N) has nothing to do with you, so don’t even butt your noses where they don’t belong.” He turned and just as he was about to leave and enter the practice match, he stood beside the man with glasses and stared at him with the same amount of bloodlust he had whenever he faced a strong opponent, and whispered: “Call her cute one more time and see what happens, captain”

——

What the hell is going on?

With a furious expression and gritted teeth, Aomine’s eyes followed your frantic movements in annoyance. He watched how you held Sakurai’s hands and whispered something to him to calm him down, how Wakamatsu ruffled your hair as thanks for bringing him a bottle of his favorite drink and a towel, and how Susa and Imayoshi patted your back while praising you. Today was the first time he actually noticed this, but now everything was making sense.

Since the beginning of this week, Momoi told him that she’d be away for two weeks and couldn’t manage the team in that timeframe. Her childhood friend wasn’t interested, so he didn’t ask any further details such as why she going away or who’d take her place for the time being, but now he wished he would’ve.

During her absence, he didn’t receive any of those dreadful SMS and for the first few days, he was living his life, skipping every single practice day. He did ask you a couple of times whether you wanted to ditch your class and come hang out with him, but he got rejected pretty quickly. Additionally, he rarely asked you out himself so the lack of messages from you wasn’t surprising to him, of course until he heard some of the substitute players comment something about how well you were doing your job as temporary manager.

“So that’s why you were so busy, huh?” he asked in his typical monotone voice the moment you had come back to the bench where he and the coach had taken place. Without sparing him even a single glance you took your clipboard and began explaining something to the older man. Seeing how you ignored him, paired with your cold attitude made Aomine involuntarily remember his captain’s words.

If ya keep that up, then who knows what could happen.

Your conversation with the coach was quickly wrapped up and not soon after just the two of you were left sitting on the bench. Your boyfriend’s deep blue eyes glanced briefly at you and observed how you were writing something in a small pink notebook that most likely belonged to Momoi. He never considered the fact that you would actually lose interest in him or perhaps even break up with him, but your recent behavior change matched exactly that and it scared him more than he let on.

The moment you finished writing and intended to pack everything up, a big hand took a gentle hold of your wrist. Slightly startled and taken aback you looked at the man beside you, who was covering his lower face area as he murmured something that only you managed to hear and understand.

Please don’t go…d-don’t leave me

A small smile slowly adorned your lips as you took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers, and squeezing it ever so slightly. You figured that the reason he was hiding his face was because of the blush that had painted his cheeks in a shade of dark red. An unusual but very welcome sight as well as a great reward for the plan the entire team had come up with alongside you. The goal? Teaching your lover a small lesson that he’s surely not forgetting that quick.

Mission accomplished…

Murasakibara:

“Hey Atsushi, my friend told me they’d be opening a new store in–��

“Mmm…I don’t wanna go (Y/N)-chin”

You were stunned at the sudden refusal of your boyfriend even before you’d finished your sentence and couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you looked at his slightly annoyed face.

Of course, he’d say that…

And with that prompt rejection, the conversation between you two died down and you wordlessly continued watching the movie you’d put on for tonight, while gently caressing the purple head of the large man who was using your thighs as a pillow.

——

“Eh? You rejected (Y/N)’s invitation again?” asked the black-haired young man while he handed his gigantic friend a tissue for his sticky fingers. With a slightly annoyed glare, Murasakibara snatched the handkerchief from him and hurriedly removed the honey residuals from the snacks he had finished a couple of minutes ago, before answering: “Of course I would…I’m not in the mood to go shopping for hours in this heat.”

The man’s laziness never failed to surprise Himuro everyone who has ever talked to him was aware of his quirks and despite it all, no one has ever left his side. The same goes for you as well. Since the first time you’d seen him, your heart already belonged to him. It was easier to pursue him than you’d expected since his team liked you very much and always helped you out by telling you about his schedule or when he’d come to practice. He was pretty cute once you got to know him better and unbeknownst to you, he had also fallen in love with everything about you. Your smile, the adorable way you tried to follow his basketball practice, the way you panicked when he told you that he didn’t like the type of candy you’d picked out, and everything else about you made his heart thump hard against his chest.

“You know Atsushi…if you keep your indifferent attitude up, your relationship might end pretty soon.”

“W-What do you mean…?”

With a perplexed expression on his face, Himuro took a glance at his friend who had panic written all over him, and reluctantly explained how you could feel neglected by him, or even think of leaving him because he seemingly doesn’t want to spend time with you. The purple-haired young man opened his mouth, wanting to protest but anything he said was immediately rebutted by his friend who told him that he was the wrong person to tell this to, and with that, Murasakibara sprinted out of the room. His destination: your home.

——

You were just out of the shower and preparing yourself to go to bed, when suddenly the doorbell starts ringing furiously, scaring you in the process. With a thumping heart and silent steps, you made your way to your door and took a glance at your peephole, needing less than a second to recognize just who had decided to spontaneously visit you this late at night.

“Atsushi, what are–”

“I’m sorry (Y/N)-chin, please don’t leave me! I-I promise I will go to that store reopening with you a-and to any other event you’d like, I’ll even do it without you having to buy me over with sweets, just–”

Thrown aback as you were, you took a tight hold of Murasakibara’s arms, squeezing them while you screamed at him to hold on and stop talking. Despite your reassuring words it took him a good while to calm down, so you made use of it and prepared some soft drinks, and put a couple of his favorite snacks in a rotating multi bowl set. After putting everything down on the small table in your living room, you got your boyfriend his favorite blanket, covering him with it, and finally sat down next to him.

“Now then, I’m almost afraid to ask you this, but…why are you pleading with me to not leave you?”

With his big and almost puppy-like eyes, he looked at you and asked with a slightly trembling voice: “S-So you really w-want to l-leave me?”

“Heavens no! Who even gave you that idea?”

The moment these few words left your lips, the tension finally left the young man’s body and he slumped back on your couch with a relieved sigh, whispering a silent thank god before massaging his closed eyes. You had never seen your lover being as worried as tonight and you figured that whatever has been bothering him must’ve been quite serious, and that made you in fact even more curious than before. Despite that, you figured you’d wait for him to start his explanation, or at least that was what you’d planned, but after a couple of minutes of nothing but silence, you decided to speak up and reassure him first.

“I’m not quite sure what happened, but it seems like you’re feeling bad for refusing my invite from some days ago, and well…I was kinda disappointed about not being able to go with you there, but I’ve known you for so long now and truth be told, I was prepared for such an answer so I’m not pissed off or anything, you know? You’re just the type of person to prefer staying indoors while lazing around…that’s just how you are and how I love you, so…”

You got embarrassed after a while and the young man’s missing reactions didn’t make it any better, so you eventually stopped mid-sentence and called out to him.

Silence.

“Atsushi…?”

You put your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him, causing his arm with which he was covering his eyes to fall to the side, revealing his slightly puffy eyes and sleeping face.

D-Did he…fall asleep…?

Who would’ve thought that your reassurance alone would have such an impact on him and cause him to fall asleep?

You giggled to yourself and gently caressed some strands of his hair away from his face, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek as you silently wished him a pleasant nap. A few seconds passed during which you contemplated whether you should go to your room or snuggle up to him, you picked the latter and as carefully as possible, leaned your head on his shoulder, closed your eyes, and missed the small smile that adorned Murasakibara’s lips.

Akashi:

Akashi usually isn’t one to get jealous of other people, since he is quite confident that there is no one better suited for you but him. And yet whenever he sees how you talk to Mayuzumi he can’t help but feel a tight pain in his chest and notice how his mood instantly drops. He’d immediately turn away from the sight of the two of you and go somewhere else, preferably the gym where he can either let his frustrations out on the ball or on some of the unmotivated basketball club members. When you were close to him during one of his bad days he was prone to behaving rather rude and harsh and even though he regrets it seconds after opening his mouth he just can’t stop himself. One day though, he truly lost it.

Everything was seemingly going well and then he saw both Mayuzumi and you come in the gym together, hand in hand, laughing, and worst of it all: you were blushing. The red-haired young man watched how his upperclassman helped you sit down on the bench and the way you two looked at each other made the captain feel sick. That’s when a certain thought entered his mind.

What if (Y/N) is planning on breaking up with me for….

While you laughed alongside the older member of the basketball club, you noticed out of the corner of your eyes the way Akashi approached you two and immediately sprung up to calm him down. “S-Sei, please calm yourself down!” you pleaded as you held onto his wrists, but no matter what you said he wasn’t listening, he only had eyes for the man behind you.

Out of desperation you wrapped your arms around the slightly trembling body of your boyfriend and began whispering how nothing was going on between the two of you, how Mayuzumi had only helped you reach the gym since you had sprained your ankle on the way, and how he had teased you for loving the captain too much. As if released from some sort of spell, the young man came back to his senses and returned your embrace in slight confusion. While you were quick to forgive and forget the sudden snap of your boyfriend, the grey-haired man behind you wasn’t in the mood to just forget how the first-year would’ve stabbed him with a ballpen if it weren’t for you. Luckily the other main team members came to calm their teammate down, while you excused yourself, took Akashi by the hand, and went out for a walk to help him calm down.

——

Holding tightly onto your boyfriend’s hand you dragged him off to a more remote area where you could properly talk to each other and resolve any type of doubts that seemed to sprout inside of his already restless mind as a sudden and unexpected whisper caught you off guard. You halted mid-step, turning to the young man behind you, and asked him to repeat what he’d just said.

After a short moment of reluctance, he nodded and did as asked. “I’m sorry for losing myself back there.” His sudden apology caught you quite off guard and made you forget your initial plan. The Akashi you knew rarely showed such enormous remorse for his actions, he might have finally found inner peace with himself and his insecurities, but that didn’t mean that he was now a completely changed man who’d thrown his entire pride away. Not being able to hold back your curiosity, you asked why he felt the need to apologize.

“The way I was ready to lash out at someone older than me, in the same way, I did with Kagami back then was uncalled for…not only that but your expression,” he paused, softly caressing your cheek and continued with a silent voice “that fearful expression you had when you saw me…I-I don’t want to see it ever again.”

Now I get it…

A sad smile adorned your lips as you squeezed his hand tighter. You were secretly thankful for his small outburst right now because it showed you not only that he indeed loved you as much as he usually told you, but also that despite his perfectionism he was very much flawed. He was afraid of losing you and equally afraid of you hating him for expressing these worries. Without saying anything you wrapped your arms around him in a hug and held him tightly as soon as he’d returned your embrace.

“Seijuro…please don’t try to tackle every worry you have on your own. That’s why we are a couple, right? Anything that bothers you, no matter how trivial or serious it is, please share it with me instead of tackling that burden on your own, ok..?”

His sharp yet beautiful eyes looked directly into your own before he leaned his forehead on your shoulder and murmured: “I know, it’s just…I’m still not used to having someone so dependable as you by my side, offering me so much support that I don’t know what to do with it.”

You giggled at his statement and kissed his head, thankful that you had more or less resolved one part of his issues, but more than anything you were happy that from now on he’d involve you more in his worries and problems.

Takao:

Everyone from Shuutoku warned you multiple times that being lovers with Takao would cause you to have severe trust issues and you didn’t believe them at first, but after a couple of weeks, you finally understood their warnings. The lively young man was surprisingly a jokester and tended to take certain things not serious enough for your preference, but since it was a part of his personality, that you’d fallen in love with, you decided to overlook it for the majority of the time.

Usually, his jokes were kinda misplaced and sometimes even more sympathy-inducing than fun, but they never failed to make you crack even the smallest of smiles. But lately, though his jokes started focusing on love and were constantly dealing with the topic of breakup or cheating and it made you quite anxious and hurt that he took these two so lightly without considering your feelings.

Day after day you put up with them until you just couldn’t take it anymore and interrupted him, saying that he should just stop talking for a moment. You were so agitated that you failed to notice his taken aback expression.

“Hey (Y/N)-chan, you do know that I’m just joking, right? There’s no need for you to take it seriously!”

There he goes again with the same excuse…

The young man attempted to take your hand in his, an usual gesture he made every time he upset you, but right now this was the last thing you needed. When his slender fingers brushed yours, you slapped his hand away.

“Not this time Kazu-chan…I’m sorry” you whispered and hurried off, leaving your boyfriend behind who was blown away by your reaction.

——

A few days passed since your little outburst and you’d been avoiding Takao ever since, afraid of being confronted with what you’d told him. You felt bad of course for treating him like that, but you were just not ready to talk to him yet and needed some time to come to terms with your thoughts first.

“What’s with you two always gluing yourselves on me whenever you have some kind of problem?” asked the green-haired young man who you’d forced to stay by your side since then. You responded with a giggle and told him that thanks to his confident behavior and direct words you felt placid and could sort your thoughts in peace. He simply sighed and looked at his lucky item for today, a silver ring with a small green jewel, which he’d once again gotten from his captain, who told him that it was yet another merch of his favorite idol.

“You shouldn’t avoid Takao so much. We both know that he makes jokes to hide away his insecurities and weaknesses and what do you think might happen if he sees us right now?”

He’s…right

You bit your lower lip and slumped forward, leaning your elbows on your thighs as you nodded a couple of times. Nothing good would come out of you brooding over this on your own and having Midorima with you wouldn’t make your little “fight” with Takao just disappear. Seeing you so lost in thought, the young man behind you had an idea, one that he didn’t entirely like, but right now all he wanted was to make you feel better, so he swallowed his pride and handed you the ring.

“Take it…i-it’s not like I’m giving it to you forever s-since it’s not mine and all…b-but Oha Asa said t-that Scorpio might need some k-kind of symbol o-of…love so” he stuttered as he held out his hand, the fragile ring between his bandaged fingers. You were at a loss for words at his gesture and all you could do was whisper out his name in surprise.

“Shin-chan! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Suddenly someone took a hold of your slightly outstretched arm and tugged on it, causing you to stand up and fall against their chest. You looked at the face of the person and it was none other than Takao who was glaring at his friend through glassy eyes. As if bitten by a bug Midorima jumped up and began protecting himself, but all you could focus on was the man who had his arms wrapped tightly around your body. While the two men insulted each other and bickered you realized just how stupid this entire situation was and couldn’t help but smile.

You placed your hand on your boyfriend’s cheek and turned his head, so that he was now facing you, and kissed him, shutting both of them up almost instantly. It took the young man a shot while to return your kiss, but when he did he also took the opportunity to properly embrace you.

“I’m sorry for overreacting Kazu-chan, it’s just that I-”

“No, don’t apologize (Y/N), I know I went too far this time. You know I love you more than anything else in this world and that I’ll never think about leaving you.”

The smile that adorned your lips widened as you nodded energetically and reassured him that your love for him is also one that will most likely last forever.

While you two made up, smiling at each other, the green-haired young man looked at the ring and grinned to himself.

I knew it…Oha Asa is never wrong

[blackwoolncrown]

”This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.

But enough is enough.

The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.

American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.”

>>Copied here in case anyone gets paywalled when they click the above. The full article is...a lot.<<

WHY AM I WRITING THIS

As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.

I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.

One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.

YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?

No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.

See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.

Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.

If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.

We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.

I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.

In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.

And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.

None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.

This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.

BASTARD 101

I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.

Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.

I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.

To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:

“I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”

Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.

When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.

Once police training has - through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle - promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.

One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.

This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”

I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.

Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.

HOW TO BE A BASTARD

I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.

Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.

Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.

Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.

Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.

Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.

Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.

Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.

Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.

Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.

Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.

Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.

Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.

Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.

Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.

Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.

Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.

A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.

A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.

A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.

If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.

Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.

Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.

I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.

Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:

Do

not

fucking

talk

to

cops.

Ever.

Say, “I don’t answer questions,” and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.

DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?

Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.

During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.

The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.

It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.

And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?

To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.

Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.

HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?

So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:

Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.

Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.

More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.

Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.

Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:

No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.

No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.

Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.

Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.

Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.

One final idea: consider abolishing the police.

I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.

I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.

What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.

You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.

This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?

Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?

Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.

Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.

Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:

“An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”

(Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)

I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.

A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE

If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:

When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?

And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.

Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?

If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.

RESOURCES TO YES-AND WITH

Achele Mbembe — Necropolitics

Angela Y. Davis — Are Prisons Obsolete?

CriticalResistance.org — Abolition Toolkit

Joe Macaré, Maya Schenwar, and Alana Yu-lan Price — Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect?

Ruth Wilson Gilmore — COVID-19, Decarceration, Abolition [video]

[deaddruid]

i saw a post about this earlier but the current culture of "i'm attracted to literally every woman and like 2 guys haha" amongst bisexuals is actually very alienating and made it quite hard for me, a bisexual woman, to realize that i was same sex attracted.

for example, when i was beginning to realize that i was attracted to women, i would see a woman online or in real life that i was genuinely attracted to and experience a visceral feeling of attraction. then i would go on my phone and go on tiktok and see a bunch of women reacting "omg women-" "i'm so gay omg" to a women in full makeup and some dreamy outfit, and while i could recognize that she was gorgeous, i did not experience a similar feeling of visceral attraction. but seeing all these women who are apparently attracted to all women and "1% attracted to men" thirsting over the same kinds of people made me feel as if maybe i was just straight after all.

i think it stems from the tendency to equate sexual attraction with the ability to recognize that someone is conventionally attractive. and it is very easy to recognize who is 'pretty' in a patriarchal society that very clearly spells out which women are conventionally attractive and what exact rituals and standards they need to adhere to in order to be deed so. the fact that this admiration amongst "bisexuals" is always towards these thin, hyperfeminine white women that perfectly fit patriarchal beauty standards is just more proof of this. i remember at times even feeling like i was doing something wrong by being attracted to gender non-conforming women or just women who weren't literal supermodels. this isn't to say that ~real ssa women~ aren't attracted to these women too, of course some are, they are gorgeous and ssa women also aren't immune to patriarchal socialization. but if your same sex attraction begins and ends with the ability to recognize that someone is conventionally attractive, i am going to have a hard time taking you seriously.

at the time i was realizing i was same sex attracted, i was still mostly opposite sex attracted and the fact that all these women who seem to be attracted to literally every woman ever were still partnered with a mediocre man made me feel like a relationship with a man was inevitable. if they so badly wanted to date women and only experienced fleeting attraction to men, and yet still ended up with one, what chance did i have of finding a woman who i was attracted to and also was attracted to me? despite the fact that i didn't want to partner with men, it felt to me like it was something that would inevitably just happen to me.

the good news is that that is bullshit and i am now happily dating the woman of my dreams!! dating a man is not an inevitable fate and you can absolutely make the choice to exclusively date and seek out women as a bisexual. despite what certain people who can't fathom not centering their lives around men will tell you it does not make you a lesbian, it simply makes u a very sexy bisexual lady.

[room-archive]

By now, some of you might have heard about the situation in Poland. The following text was posted on FB by a Polish friend of mine following the events of 07. August 2020 in Warsaw. It describes what happened, and the context of what led to the events of yesterday. Please reblog and share this post to spread awareness about the current situation.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

For a very long time it has not been easy for me to write and talk about my country. Publicly, for a very long time I haven't. Disagreeing with most of what the current government stands for, that would have become a full-time job. Feeling that one is powerless, one can easily become indifferent and either emigrate abroad or immigrate inside to the bubble of like minded friends, trying to just go on with life regardless, to wait out the storm, to hope for the world to change one day on its own. I am guilty of doing both. But yesterday, I believe that Poland came to its turning point. We went to sleep in a troubled democracy and woke up in an authoritarian country that uses the full force of the state apparatus to oppress and unjustly prosecute members and allies of the LGBT+ community.

No good person can stay indifferent facing these circumstance.

General context:

👉 It all began members of the activist collective "Stop Bzdurom" (eng. Stop the Bullshit) spray-painted and cut the tires of an anti-abortion van. This van was taped with graphic images of dead fetuses and frequently driving through the streets of Warsaw. While the activists spray painted the van, the driver intervened and it came to a light physical quarell with pushing and elbowing. This is the video of this altercation: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=1324521857722944&id=137358556439286

👉 On the basis of that, the Public Prosecution (which is under total political control in Poland - the Minister of Justice IS the Attorney General) decided to press charges of violent assault and destruction of property against one of the members of the collective - Margot. Margot identifies as a non-binary person (it will be important later in the story). Under those charges Margot could face up to 7 years in prison.

👉 Some weeks ago, Margot was dragged out of her apartment by police in civil clothing. At that point, police refused to give any information about her whereabouts or charges. It took many hours to establish that she was taken to the prosecution office for interrogation and to provide her with a lawyer. The prosecution filed for two months of arrest, awaiting trial. The court initially denied prosecution's request and released Margot. At that stage, this story could have ended as yet another, relatively harmless episode in our disfunctional democracy - unjust and infuriating of course, but at the end smoothened out by the somewhat independent parts of our judiciary.

👉 In between that and yesterday, the same collective hanged rainbow flags from monuments in Warsaw. One of those was a statue of Jesus. This was follwed by a wave of arrests under the charges of "desecrating monuments and offending religious feelings". The arrested were charged while our prime minister and president were visiting desecrated monuments and placing commemorative flowers.

And then yesterday happened:

👉 The prosecution appealed the court's denial to put Margot under arrest. Another court, for reasons still unclear, reversed the decision and decided to put Margot in jail for two months before any trial. There could not possibly be any reason to make such a decision legitimate. Margot is a special case because Polish arrest and correctional facilities are an extremely dangerous place for a (visibly) queer person like her.

👉 When Margot learned of the decision, she happened to be in the office of the biggest Polish LGBTQ+ NGO - Kampania Przeciw Homofobii (eng. The Campaign Against Homophobia). With the police on the way to arrest her (quite symbolic, isn't it), a few NGO’s asked people to gather in front of the office in a demonstration of solidarity. A few hundred people and plenty of journalists showed up, including multiple members of parliament from left and center opposition parties.

👉Margot decided that if she has to go, she won't just go quietly but as publicly as she can. She walked through the demonstration up to the police officers, offering herself to be taken away. They refused to arrest her. We thought they got scared of the public support and the cameras. It looks like we couldn't have been more wrong.

👉 The spontaneous demonstration moved to a nearby allegedly desecrated monument. There, peacful demonstrators were met by an excessively large police force seperating them from the monuments. And then someone has given an order to make an example out of demonstrators and turn the arrest into a show of power.

👉 First, an unmarked car approached. A bunch of police officers in civil clothing dragged Margot inside. For all that has happened later the crowd remained non-violent.

👉 Then, demonstrators sat down around the car to prevent it from leaving. (see Photo) The police attacked with an unprecedented brutality. Tens of undercover police officers arrived and together with their colleagues in uniforms they begun brutally attacking, beating, suffocating and throwing the demonstrators into police cars driving away with them. All that during broad daylight, in front of TV cameras. Without any shame or hesitation. Multiple photos of police brutality bellow. All questions about the basis of the detention were met with laughter. The protestors were not even called upon to disperse. Just faced with violence for the sake of power - no law, no order. TV cameras have caught police officers giving eachother orders to arrest "three random people from the crowd". Bystanders and people passing by were also arrested.

Yesterday in Warsaw is was enough to be in a wrong place, wrong time. We witnessed a straight up round up.

👉To paint the picture of the excess of the police brutality in more detail, I'll quickly describe one of the detentions. During that whole time, MPs (Member of Parliament) were present at the site. Now, they hold immunity from being arrested, but I don't believe anyone in Poland ever imagined that this immunity would have to be used in such a way. Among the photos below, there is one of a blonde woman, holding her hand on the back of a demonstrator, who's being pushed to the ground by the police. That women is an opposition MP who left yesterday's protests injured by the police and described in detailes what had happened. She saw police officers throwing the protester in the picture to the ground and kneeing her down. Her head was bleeding on the pavement. The MP run torwards them screaming to let go and pushing the police away. She lied down on the protester to guard her with her own body. Only then the police let the MP to put her purse under the bleading head of the protester (seen photo) and take care of the head-wound. The protester was then taken away by the police to an unknown location. That story is just one among many horrifying stories from yesterday.

👉 Later, noone knew where exactly the detained people were taken. We guess that around 50 people were arrested.

50 political prisoners.

Police has been refusing any information. The demonstration has moved under the main police stations and the second wave of random arrests happen (you can see it on the video: https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=295720058542451&id=107750507339408).

👉Members of parliament and attorneys have been present at the police stations all night trying to get any information and to provide legal help to the detainees. In order to prevent this contact, police has started to move the arrested people out of Warsaw- a tactic straight up from the harshest repressions of the communist times. On one of the photos below you can see two MPs standing in the way of a police van in the middle of the night to prevent that from happening. People were being dragged out of the police stations to the transport vans. They were shielded on the way to the car by other police vehicles to make identification impossible. Few of them managed to scream out their last name. Attorneys were immediately requesting access to their clients, and were met by police officers bluntly lying that such a person was never there.

👉 To paint the picture in more detail, again, of what was happening on the police stations- below you have a photo of a lady reading a piece of paper standing in a window with bars. That's yet another Polish MP, reading a list of the people being held at that particular station to the desperate families searching for their loved ones.

As for today, we are still unsure about what is going to happen.

We know that the arrested people are being presented with bullshit charges, citing ”the participation in an illegal gathering with an aim of violently assaulting a person or a property". Those charges don't stand on any grounds - not only we have photos and videos - the whole peaceful protest was on live TV.

We know that the Polish Ombudsman and the National Mechanism for the Prevention of Torture has started visiting the police stations.

We know that the first international institutions have started to speak out. Example is in the photos below. With the gravity of what is happening, I'd urge for more and sooner.

Poland is not living up to any standards of a free country. Poland is below anything, that should ever be accepted within the European Union. The long-standing aspiration of my country to become a part of the "West" has shifted towards countries like Russia in a matter of a night.

I will fight this, my friends will fight this. We will not let this go gently into silent night.

But I am not sure how much more fight we have in us.

I'll end with asking all of you abroad for support. Let people in your countries hear about this. We in Poland may not be enough.

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

Seeing Stars and Stripes

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

This is just porn, I have no excuse for it other than I need the practice

Here you go babes 

You were sure that many would see the upturned lip, the finale of the cacophony of scars that marred his face as off-putting. They’d see the way the injured skin forced his lip up into a permanent snarl as a warning. Yet as you stared at him from across the room you couldn’t help up imagine what it would be like to run your tongue across it. Letting the tip slide quickly over the before quickly jumping back and smirking. Would he grow at you? Call you a minx? Drag your head back to do it again? Put you over his shoulder and take you away to have his way with you? You hoped a version of all three.

So engrossed in your daydreaming you completely forgot where you were or whom you were with till one of your friends—Alma-- cleared her throat.

“Y/n?..... Y/N?” She playfully slapped your shoulder getting your attention. You turned to her, still clearing your head of the vision.

“Are you going to continue to make eyes at strangers or are you going to take your turn?” Your other friend at the table Jordie chimed in.

“Are you saying I have a choice?” you replied. As they both laughed you reached out to grab the dice that were in front of you on the table.

“I say you just go for it” Jordie said looking down at the scores for the game and then back up at your roll,

“Damn Y/n, 650 you gonna take it?”

“What’s my score again?” You asked coyly. Jordie looked down at the board with the scores and back up at you.

“Plenty high” She said not giving you a proper answer. You had been ahead of both the girls for quite some time. Poor Alma having only just gotten on the board about three rounds ago.  

“I’ll take it” you answered passing the dice to Jordie.

“I’m with her on this one” Alma stated splitting her attention between you and Jordie’s rolls “You never go after men on our girls’ nights, if this stranger’s got something that’s getting you going I say chase after it”

Jordie let out a small curse as the dice went cold for her. You waved a server down to refill your drink as you contemplated Alma’s words.

It was true you never were one to go get lost in a man’s arms. It wasn’t that you were prudish or that you lacked offers. It really boiled down to two factors. The first being that your town was small. And any news, especially who slept with whom was bound to get spread as soon as your legs were. The second being that all the men and near all the women for that matter lacked depth. There lives were firmly planted in this village. They were born in this land, they grew in this land, they will die in this land and they will eventually become this land.  Every thought in there heads was of this land. Even your friends were not immune to this. Sleeping with men here felt more akin to sleeping with a very polished rock.

Your mother blamed your wanderlust on all the reading you did. Your family was the only completely literate one in the whole village. You and your mother being two out the three women that knew how to read. The third being Jordie. Together you were trying to teach Alma, though she insisted it was a wasted endeavor.

Altogether the village was simple, routine and safe. You had given up years ago of trying to force yourself to be complacent with it. You soothed your wanders heart by travel for business. From a family of farmers you took up soap making to cure your boredom. During the summer months you would travel to different markets to sell your wares and see the different villages and cities. But one woman can only travel so far on her own, and summer can only last so many months. And then it was back to this. Back to the cage of a home set in stone.

Yet looking at the traveler he seemed to ooze an aura complexity. You imagined he had seen many places, fought many fights and tasted many flavors. For a brief moment when you first saw him you contemplated asking him to tell you of his travel rather than anything untoward.

Then he’d rolled his neck, thrown down his pack with a clamor, and with a voice of gravel ordered a meal, a bed and an ale.

And it was all over for you.

Alma smiled as she rolled a cool thousand points in one role and surpassed Jordie on the board when you put your hands on the table and forced yourself up. Both girls gave you a wink as you passed the server from before grabbing the pitcher he had brought to refill your drink. You sauntered over to the man in the red striped jacket. He was looking absentmindedly at the wall when you approached—the sound of the pitcher landing on the table breaking him out of his daze.

He looked up to meet your gaze and his golden amber eyes hypnotized you for a moment.

“Can I help you lass?” The low tone of his voice mixed with the roughness of it made you weak at the knees. You got control of your legs and broke the spell his eye had cast on you and fixed a smile on your face.

“You looked like you could use some company” You grabbed your skirts and swished them to the side in order to sit on the chair cattycorner to him. He turned his body to you, his eyebrows held high on his head in a face of skepticism.  He looked around the room before addressing you.

“It looks like this place is filled with men that are much more suited for you company” He gave a half hearted gesture to the lively bar.

You gave a snort and rolled your eyes.

“Oh believe me I’ve tried but the whole lot of them is either boorish or simple” You scooted your chair closer to him not touching shoulder. You pointed at a blonde gentleman in a green vest.

“That’s Karlson, he is completely convinced that boiled beaver testicles are curing his wife’s monthly pains” The man pulled a face and your let out a snort.

“She replaces them with boiled eggs when he’s not looking. The real thing helping her is the whiskey she mixes in her tea.” The strangers hand shot up to cover his mouth as he struggled not to laugh.

You turned a bit and pointed at another gentleman. This time a balding man in a shirt much to small for him.

“The man one bend over from busting a seam is Magnus. He once lectured me for two hours on the science behind putting grooves in your teeth to make you a better warrior.”

The man scoffed looking up. His hair fell from his face falling behind his ears in a motion like water.

“Humans will try anything to be more than they are” You fixed him with a look.

“You say that as if you aren’t one” He turned to you perplexed.

“I’m not”

You made a big gesture out of looking him up and down. Inspecting his eyes and hair. You stuck your hand out and poked his arm—careful to avoid the spikes that poked out of his shoulders.

“You seem pretty human to me” You looked over to him smiling from ear to ear. Your cheeks forcing your eyes to squint. He broke your gaze as a small smile crept onto his face for a moment.

“Your too cute for you own good….”

“Y/N” you filled in for him

“Y/n” He parroted back.

“And I don’t know…”

“Eskel” he provided.

“I don’t know Eskel” you started “I think I balance on the perfect ratio of sweet timid kitten and sexy goddess” You waited until he was posed to take a drink to continue. “After all I came over here too see if you wanted to fuck my  brains out”

Your timing had been perfect and Eskel’s hand shot up again to his mouth to try and stop the spray that was currently coming out of his mouth from the shock of your statement.  He wiped his hand with his mouth and gave a harsh swallow.

“Your funny Y/n.” he choked out. You put your arm on the table and placed your head in your hand.

“True, I am masterful in whit” your gaze lingered on his lips, a small amount of ale his hand had missed dripped down his chin. You moved fluidly reaching one hand to wipe his chin and the other to rest on his thigh. You leaned in close as your thumb moved from his chin to his bottom lip.

“But I was being quite sincere with that request” His eyes seemed to take you in for a moment. In his irises he seemed to be fighting something. For a split second he looked like he might start crying before his gaze turned hungry. He leered down your top then back up to the pout of your lips, slightly ajar.

“Eskel” you regarded him, the name low in your voice.

“Y/n” he returned. The combination of his gaze and his voice sent a shiver down your spine and caused your cunt to clench. You caught your breath for a moment, ever so slightly rubbing your legs together.

“You have a room upstairs?”

“Indeed I do” he smirked at you. That damned notch in his lip driving you even crazier. You lifted yourself up going to grab your bag from your friends quickly.  You three had planned on staying with Jordie that night since her husband was away.

You were sure she’d understand.

As you passed they both smiled and winked at you again. Eskel—having gathered his own belongings—met you at the entrance to the stairs. He stuck out his arm, making you giggle. You hooked your hand into it as you made your way up. You looked more like a pair of nobles ready to meet a monarch than you did strangers on their way to hook up in a backwater inn. He lead you too one of the inn’s three rooms. You made your way across the threshold, heading to place your bag in a chair in the corner. When you turned around Eskel had set his belongings down and was anxiously shifting on his feet. A hand behind his head playing with the skin of his neck.

The moment was awkward. Back in the crowded bar you had both been in high confidence. Safety in numbers giving you courage to speak boldly. When the doors were closed and it was just the two of alone it was a different story.

Fearing he may be getting cold feet you strode across the room. A woman on a mission. At the very least you were going to fulfill the fantasy from earlier. Coming this far you were not about to walk away with nothing.

When you reached him your hands sought either side of his face. Pulling him towards you. Your lips met tenderly. The plushness of his lips not being lost on you. Eskel became more and more receptive to the kiss, the two of you now beginning to push against the other. Your thumbs caressed the bones of his cheeks. The sun ravaged skin providing just the slightest bit of drag against your finger pads. He stepped into you deepening the kiss and your hands migrated so that your arms were hung on his shoulders. You rubbed your core against the leg that was nestled there, releasing a small moan at the friction. You broke apart for air for a split second before diving back in. His mouth much more open this time. It was now or never

You swiped your tongue along his bottom lip first. Then migrated up. In a split second you ran your tongue into the divot in his upper lip. Sliding it back and forth before pulling away. You looked at him through your lashes, biting your lip to try and control the giddiness inside you.

Eskel looked wild. His mouth was still agape and his breath was ragged. His brain seemed to need a second to catch up. With a jolt he fixed you with a stare. His pupils blown out and his lips in a snarl. Eskel grabbed your waist and lifted you with no effort. Instinctively you wrapped you legs around his torso as he all but slammed you against the wall. The force of the impact causing a tapestry to fall from it’s place on the wall.

Ravaged against a wall… You were so close.

Eskel pinned you again the wall with his hips. The pressure of it causing you to whimper. With his hands free he violently wrung the jacket from his torso, dropping the leather to the floor unceremoniously. The blue undershirt underneath open and loose on him.  You reached out push open the center. Running your hand down the firm muscles of his neck and into the coarse field of hair on his chest. The muscle underneath was firm and the heartbeat usually slow.  

Eskel leaned into you, his mouth making its way to the junction of your neck and shoulder. He nipped at the spot, forcing a breath out of your lungs. You brought your hands up to tangle into his hair and bring him closer. Pushing him into you. As Eskel began littering your chest with bruises he started to grind you into the wall. You whimpered at the friction, griding back with enthusiasm.

Eskel had made his way to the tops of your breasts, giving one a playful bite as he looked up at you through his lashes. You felt his hand grab your ass lifting you with his arms. He slid down to his knees as you yanked up your skirts to see what he was doing. Eskel fixed your plush thighs on his shoulders, moving his hands up to play with the band of your undergarments.

“You’ve had your dinner, am I dessert?” you asked, quickly scolding yourself for never being able to stop your mouth. Eskel laughed, the puffs of air cooling the damp fabric surrounding your pussy.

“Do you want to be?” he smirked, giving your waistband a quick snap. You let out a high pitched “mmhmm” and it was all the confirmation he needed. HIs large and calloused hand peeling the garment down, flinging it behind him with no regard for where is landed. He moved in closer, at first nuzzling your thigh and placing languid open mouth kisses on it.

You fisted the skirts in your hands, trying desperately to be patient. However as he continued to tease you, you started to inch your cunt closer and close to him, using the wall as leverage. Eskel caught on to what you were doing and gave out a tisk before pushing the pair of you closer to the wall. Using the same momentum he dove head first into you. Flattening his tongue and lapping at the excitement that was dripping from you. You pulled the skirts up higher in your clenched fists as he ate you out like a man starved. Alternating between long broad stokes and precise attacks using the tip of his tongue on your clit.

Eskel shifted on his knees. One hand coming to press your sternum to the wall.  And the other coming to join him at your pussy. He suctioned his lips around your clit and gave a hard suck as he thrust two fingers into you. The double assault caused you to convulse. Moaning out his name, glad that his room was upstairs and not closer to the crowded bar downstairs. You switched to hold your skirts with one hand, tangling the other into his hair. Your pleasure becoming tug of war as he fought to push against the wall and you fought to push away from the wall to get even closer to him.

As the pumping of Eskel’s fingers continued he added a third finger to the mix, causing you to hit your head against the wall as you panted up towards the ceiling. Just as you were starting to look down again he curled his fingers inside you, hitting that soft spot in you head on. The intense pleasure sending your hear careening once again with the wall. Eskel began to hit your g-spot full on increasing the pressure and speed. It only took a minute at this speed before your legs were clamming on his head and you were coating his face in release.

Eskel worked you through your release, stopping as you dismounted your legs to try and stand. He stood up backing up to give you room. The first step was rocky but it didn’t take long for you to reach him and slam up into him in a kiss. You felt the very need to consume him as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your hands forcefully yanked his shirt from where it was tucking into his breeches. He broke the kiss to toss the shirt over his head to join your undergarments somewhere in the room.

Your hand reached out to him, nails dragging over the chords of muscle and scars. Eskel’s hand traveled over your waist to the back of your dress, unlacing it. As the fabric dropped to the floor his hands stayed in there position beginning to unlace your corset. However after the dress he seemed impatient, because all you heard was a growl and a quick “fuck it’ before a second hand joined its brother and pulled the corset open. The laces violently popping out of the weaving. It would be a pain to relace in the morning, but right now your mind was elseward. Mainly on trying to get him to join you in being naked.  

Your hand fumbled with the belt and Eskel granted you mercy in helping you take it off. Once rid of it you took hold of his pants and underwear and pulled them down in one fell swoop. Caught off guard by it Eskel stumbled back, landing with a bounce on the bed. You knelt down, finalizing your mission in making him naked. You looked up at him and he looked as if his mouth had gone dry. You moved your hands over his thighs, his breath hitching up as if the gentle touch had scared him.

Lifting up even more you threw your arms over his thighs his cock coming into your direct eyesight. Thick was the first word that came to mind. It was thick, the head starting to turn purple as it leaked onto his stomach. You moved you hands up over his stomach you brought your mouth closer. You followed the prominent vein on the underside with the tip of your tongue as you made your way up.

You readjusted his cock with your hand and placed you mouth just so over the tip. You looked up at him and gave him a smile.

“You will have to forgive me Eskel” you started, “I’m quite starved” and that was all the warning you gave as you sunk your lips down over the tip. Eskel let out a groan, bending over slightly as he twisted a hand into your hair. You played with his tip a bit. Giving it a hard suck using your tongue to play with the slit. Trying not to tease him to much you sunk down quickly, using your hand to stimulate what your couldn’t reach.

Eskel seemed to struggle holding back as you sucked his cock. With each pass of your tongue over his head or hard suck on his shaft the string seemed to fray more and more. Eskel moved you off of him, urging you up and onto the bed. He pressed you down onto your stomach with an almost shocking tenderness. As he mounted you he pressed a languid kiss over the back of your neck, breath coming up to tease the shell of your ear.

You felt him spread your lips pressing his head in through the first ring of muscle. Being so close to your ear you cloud hear each and every delicious sound as it escaped his mouth. The gravel of it only deepened as he pushed further into you. The thick cock pushing your further apart and your walls clenched around him. He fully seated himself and pressed his chest into your back. As if Eskel was trying to get as much skin to touch as possible.

Slowly he pulled out, the tip just barely in as he slammed back home, causing your to shriek out in pleasure. He set a brutal pace. Simultaneously sweet and sinister at the same time. His hands gentle as he toyed with you, roaming over your sides. Yet his thrusts were brutal and punishing. His mouth was ajar and pressed into your shoulder.

Eskel’s thrust began to get erratic and your legs began to shake. The sounds he was making into your shoulder going up in tone. He slithered a hand to play with your clit and your body gave a jolt. Bucking up into him his paced increased even more. Suddenly his thighs began to shake and he gave a few hard thrusts before spilling into you. His bottom lip between his teeth as he pressed a far into you as possible. The fingers on your clit continued to speed up and combined with the feeling of his release inside you, you clenched down onto him in your second organism of the night.

Eskel stayed on top of you for a few moments before heaving himself off and onto the other side of the bed. His chest still driving up and down. You crawled your way over to him, grabbing the blanket that lay on the end of the bed with you. You halfheartedly draped the fabric over the two of you as you rested your head on his chest. As the fuzziness of sleep began to over take you, you reminded yourself of one thing.

To ask him if he would be interested in a traveling partner.