#and as long as its not causing you health concerns then you are allowed to embrace your slight chaos

[covid-safer-hotties]

The next pandemic is inevitable. Australia isn’t ready - Published Sept 23, 2024

(Before you Americans yell at me, It's already the 23rd in Australia. This is very late-breaking)

I thought this was a really good breakdown of the current situation given the government-approved covid denial we live in. Long, but worth a read.

By Kate Aubusson and Mary Ward

Top infectious disease and public health veterans at the nerve centre of the state’s war against COVID-19 are sounding the alarm.

NSW is less prepared today to fend off a deadly pandemic despite the lessons of COVID-19, say top infectious disease and public health veterans at the nerve centre of the state’s war against the virus.

And we won’t have another hundred years to wait.

NSW’s gold standard Test-Trace-Isolate-Quarantine and vaccination strategies will be useless if a distrusting population rejects directives, refuses to give up its freedoms again, and the goodwill of shell-shocked public health workers dries up.

A panel of experts convened by The Sydney Morning Herald called for a pandemic combat agency akin to the armed forces or fire brigades to commit to greater transparency or risk being caught off guard by the next virulent pathogen and misinformation with the potential to spread faster than any virus.

“It’s inevitable,” says Professor Eddie Holmes of the next pandemic. A world-leading authority on the emergence of infectious diseases at the University of Sydney, Holmes predicts: “We’ll have less than 100 years [before the next pandemic].

“We’re seeing a lot of new coronaviruses that are spilling over into animals that humans are interacting with,” said Holmes, the first person to publish the coronavirus genome sequence for the world to see.

“People are exposed all the time, and each time we are rolling the dice.”

The independent review of NSW Health’s response to COVID-19 opened with the same warning: “No health system or community will have the luxury of 100 years of downtime.”

Pandemic preparedness needs to be a “permanent priority”, wrote the report’s author, Robyn Kruk, a former NSW Health secretary, “rather than following the path of those that have adopted a ‘panic and forget strategy,’ allowing system preparedness to wane”.

Why we don’t have 100 years to wait for the next pandemic The World Health Organisation has declared seven public health emergencies of international concern since 2014, including the current mpox outbreak.

Climate change is turbocharging the factors that coalesce to create the perfect breeding ground for a pandemic-causing virus, including population increases, bigger cities, and better-connected global markets and migration.

“Animals will be forced into more constrained environments, and humans that rely on those environments will be again constrained in the same environments. There will be more wet markets, more live animal trade that will just increase exposure,” Holmes said.

“It was clear that we weren’t ready [for COVID],” said Jennie Musto, who, after seven years working for the World Health Organisation overseas, became NSW Health’s operations manager for the Public Health Emergency Operations Centre, the team responsible for NSW’s COVID-19 contact tracing and containment.

“Everyone had preparedness plans gathering dust on a shelf, but no one was actually ready to respond, and so everyone was on the back foot,” Musto said. “Perhaps none of us really thought this was going to happen. We were waiting 500 years.”

Who would willingly become the next doomed whistleblower? Eddie Holmes, known for his repeated assertion that SARS-CoV-2 did not come from a lab, is deeply concerned that when the next pandemic-causing virus emerges, chances are it will be covered up.

“My worry is that if the virus appeared in a small population, say, somewhere in Southeast Asia, the people involved wouldn’t blow the whistle now, given the fact that you would get blamed,” he said.

Li Wenliang, the Wuhan doctor who tried to raise the alarm about a virulent new virus, was reportedly reprimanded by police for spreading rumours and later died of COVID-19.

The global blame game, culminating in a deep distrust of China and accusations that the virus was grown in a Wuhan lab, is why Holmes believes “we’re in no better place than we were before COVID started, if not worse”.

“I work with a lot of people in China trying to keep the lines of communication open, and they’re scared, I think, or nervous about saying things that are perceived to counter national interest.”

From a vaccine perspective, our defences look strong. There have been monumental advancements in vaccine development globally, driven by mRNA technology. In Sydney this month, construction began on an RNA vaccine research and manufacturing facility.

“But the way I see it is that nothing has been done in terms of animal surveillance of outbreaks or data sharing. The [global] politics has got much, much worse,” Holmes said.

Combat force Conjoint Associate Professor Craig Dalton, a leading public health physician and clinical epidemiologist, called for a dramatic expansion of the public health workforce and the establishment of a pandemic combat force that would routinely run real-time pandemic simulations during “peacetime”.

“No one is upset with fire brigades spending most of the time not fighting fires. They train. A lot. And that’s probably how we need to move,” he said.

“We need exercise training units so that every major player in pandemic response is involved in a real-time, three to four-day pandemic response every three to five years at national, state and local [levels].”

The federal Department of Health and Aged Care recently ran a health emergency exercise focused on governance arrangements involving chief health officers and senior health emergency management officials, a spokeswoman for Health Minister Mark Butler said. The outcomes of this exercise will be tested later this year.

Dalton said desktop simulations and high-level exercises involving a handful of chiefs didn’t cut it, considering the thousands of people working across regions and states. He instead suggested an intensive training program run in the Hunter New England region before the 2009 H1N1 pandemic provided a good model.

“We were ringing people, actors were getting injections, just like a real pandemic,” said Dalton, who once ordered a burrito in a last-ditch effort to contact a restaurant exposed to COVID-19.

Our heroes have had it The expert panel was emphatic that our pandemic response cannot once again rely on the goodwill of the public health and healthcare workforce.

According to the Kruk review, what began as an emergency response ultimately morphed from a sprint into an ultra marathon and “an admirable (yet unsustainable) ‘whatever it takes’ mindset”.

They were hailed as heroes, but the toll of COVID-19 on healthcare workers was brutal. Workloads were untenable, the risk of transmission was constant, and the risk of violence and aggression (for simply wearing their scrubs on public transport in some cases) was terrifying.

“We got through this pandemic through a lot of people working ridiculous hours,” Dalton said.

“You talk to a lot of people who did that and say they could not do it again.”

Tellingly, several expert personnel who worked at the front lines or in the control centre of NSW’s pandemic defences were invited to join the Herald’s forum but declined. Revisiting this period of intense public scrutiny, culminating in online attacks and physical threats, was just too painful.

So long, solidarity Arguably, the biggest threat to our pandemic defences will be the absence of our greatest strength during COVID: the population’s solidarity and willingness to follow public health orders even when it meant forfeiting fundamental freedoms.

The public largely complied with statewide public health orders, including the stay-at-home directive that became the 107-day Delta lockdown, and other severe restrictions prevented many from being at the bedside of their dying loved ones, visiting relatives in aged care homes and attending funerals.

“My worry is that next time around when those sorts of rules come out, people may say, ‘Well, don’t worry about it.’ They relax it in the future. Why don’t we just not stick to the rules?” said Professor Nicholas Wood, associate director of clinical research and services at the National Centre for Immunisation Research and Surveillance.

“I’m not sure we quite understand whether people [will be] happy with those rules again,” he said.

Dalton was more strident.

“I tend to agree with Michael Osterholm … an eminent US epidemiologist [who] recently said the US is probably less prepared for a pandemic now than it was in 2019, mostly because the learnings by health departments in the COVID pandemic may not make a material difference if faced with a community that distrusts its public health agencies,” he said.

“If H1N1 or something else were to spill over in the next couple of years, things like masks, social distancing and lockdowns would not be acceptable. Vaccination would be rejected by a huge part of the population, and politicians might be shy about putting mandates in.”

As for the total shutdown of major industries, people will struggle to accept it unless the next pandemic poses a greater threat than COVID, said UNSW applied mathematician Professor James Wood.

The risk of the virus to individuals and their families will be weighed against the negative effects of restrictions, which are much better understood today, said Wood, whose modelling of the impact of cases and vaccination rates was used by NSW Health.

“Something like school closure would be a much tougher argument with a similar pathogen,” he said.

A previous panel of education experts convened by the Herald to interrogate pandemic decision-making in that sector was highly critical of the decision to close schools for months during NSW’s Delta lockdown.

Greg Dore, professor of infectious diseases and epidemiology at the Kirby Institute, said the public’s reluctance to adhere to restrictions again may, in part, be appropriate.

“Some of the restrictions on people leaving the country were a bit feudal and too punitive,” he said. “Other restrictions were plain stupid, [for instance] limitations on time exercising outside.”

Meanwhile, the delays to publicly recognise the benefits of face masks and the threat of airborne transmission “ate away at trust”, Dalton said.

“We shouldn’t make those mistakes again,” he said.

Transparent transgressions Uncertainty is not something politicians are adept at communicating, but uncertainty is the only constant during a pandemic of a novel virus.

Vaccines that offered potent protection against early iterations of the COVID virus were less effective against Omicron variants.

“[The public], unfortunately, got hit by a rapid sequence of changes of what was ‘true’ in the pandemic,” James Wood said.

Political distrust can be deadly if governments give the public reason to suspect they are obfuscating.

The expert panel urged NSW’s political leaders to be far more transparent about the public health advice they were given before unilaterally enforcing restrictions.

There was a clear line between public health advice and political decision-making in Victoria. The Victorian chief health officer’s written advice was routinely published online.

In NSW, that line was blurred as Chief Health Officer Kerry Chant stood beside political leaders, most notably former premier Gladys Berejiklian, at the daily press conferences.

Public health experts said that they looked for subtle cues to determine the distinction between the expert advice and the political messaging during press conferences, paying attention to body language, who spoke when and who stayed silent.

“It is fine for public health personnel to have a different view to politicians. They have different jobs. What is not OK is to have politicians saying they are acting on public health advice [when they are not],” he said.

The ‘whys’ behind the decisions being made were missing from the daily press conferences, which created “a vacuum for misinformation”, said social scientist and public health expert Professor Julie Leask at the University of Sydney.

“The communication about what you need to do came out, and it was pretty good … but the ‘why we’re doing this’ and ‘what trade-offs we’ve considered’ and ‘what dilemmas we’ve faced in making this decision’; that was not shared,” Leask said.

The infodemic In the absence of transparency, misinformation and disinformation fill the vacuum.

“We had an ‘infodemic’ during the pandemic,” said Dr Jocelyne Basseal, who worked on the COVID-19 response for WHO in the Western Pacific and leads strategic development at the Sydney Infectious Diseases Institute, University of Sydney.

“The public has been so confused. Where do we go for trusted information [when] everyone can now write absolutely anything, whether on Twitter [now called X] or [elsewhere] on the web?” Basseal said.

A systematic review conducted by WHO found misinformation on social media accounted for up to 51 per cent of posts about vaccines, 29 per cent of posts about COVID-19 and 60 per cent of posts about pandemics.

Basseal’s teenage children recently asked whether they were going into lockdown after TikTok videos about the mpox outbreak.

“There is a lot of work to be done now, in ‘peacetime’ … to get ahead of misinformation,” Basseal said, including fortifying relationships with community groups and teaching scientists – trusted and credible sources of information – how to work with media.

In addition to the Kruk review’s six recommendations to improve its pandemic preparedness, NSW Health undertook a second inquiry into its public health response to COVID-19, which made 104 recommendations.

NSW Health Minister Ryan Park said: “We are working hard to ensure the findings and recommendations from those reports are being implemented as quickly as possible.”

The expert panellists spoke in their capacity as academics and not on behalf of NSW Health or WHO.

The ‘As One System’ review into NSW Health’s COVID-19 response made six recommendations 1. Make governance and decision-making structures clearer, inclusive, and more widely understood 2. Strengthen co-ordination, communication, engagement, and collaboration 3. Enhance the speed, transparency, accuracy, and practicality of data and information sharing 4. Prioritise the needs of vulnerable people and communities most at risk, impacted and in need from day one 5. Put communities at the centre of emergency governance, planning, preparedness, and response 6. Recognise, develop and sustain workforce health, wellbeing, capability and agility.

[themanicnami]

Hi! Ok so my witchy question for you is your opinion on cleanliness/lack of clutter = more positive energy in a room? Im disabled so my room is very hard to keep clean as I don’t have the ability to clean it. As a result, I feel bad cause I see a lot of posts saying you’re inviting or collecting negative energies and entities if you don’t keep your space clean. This seems a tad ableist to me, so I was wondering if there’s a different school of thought on this subject!

I think that it depends on the person. if slight clutter doesn't bother you and if you find comfort in the room that you have then its a positive space for you! I have a lot of stuff in a small space so all of my shelves, dressers and even my closet is packed full - some may consider that chaotic but I just feel it is my room. Its all of my books, my art supplies, my statues, plushies, dvds, games and DND supplies that is all important to me. I have bags of crystals all over one of my dressers and that makes me happy.

If your room makes you feel happy, if it makes you feel safe, if it is what is 'home' for you then you are doing it right. I believe the only time that a messy environment brings in negativity is if it is a safety hazard - blocking exits, no safe space to walk, mold or garbage, rotting items etc. Then I would say it is inviting negativities and even then that can happen from mental or physical health issues and shouldn't be shamed. Just a helping hand offered.

I went on a bit of a tangent on that but that is my personal opinion. I don't think we should judge people immediately solely based on their space. However - if they openly live in a dangerous environment out of choice unrelated to illness, disability, struggles etc then it should be taken more negatively if that makes sense. I don't wish to do too much of an anecdote but I knew someone who let food rot in his house, in his kitchen, left garbage everywhere simply because it was a 'woman's job' to clean and he lived alone so there for never cleaned - that is a whole other thing in my opinion and that is when I feel like a serious talk is needed and that the person is at fault. But if it is clutter due to disability, illness or even just hardship I feel it should be met with empathy and sympathy.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi, I’m not sure if you still write for the batfamily but can I request them and a sick teen reader, who’s also in the batfamily and a vigilante with them and they get sick but refuse to rest

Batfam with a sick teen reader

Headcanons

I like to imagine the reader is the best and worst part of different batfam members combined into one person. Meaning he gives the family heart attacks on the regular.

You weren’t the oldest, or the youngest, member of the batfam. You were only a few months younger than Tim, making you older than Damian but younger than the others.

You were the 13th child of a great warrior who had built a group of expert warriors, think like the league of assassins but smaller and more lowkey.

Because of your tough upbringing, and your siblings always outshining you, you have always felt a deep need to show no weakness and appear stronger than you are.

This means you work extremely hard to be a great member of the batclan, going by the name Red Bat. It had started out as a joke, as you wore a helmet that appeared to have the same ears as Bruces, but was red in color. It hadn’t been on purpose, but you had come to like the name.

The family are impressed with how hard you work, though it also worries them because you work yourself to the bone sometimes, never accepting failure and punishing yourself when you don’t do good, by your own standards.

In the beginning when you joined the family, you had some struggles with Damian, Tim, and Duke, as they are the closest to your age, and you are so used to having to claw yourself into the light, to get any positive attention from a father figure or to stand out.

So, it caused some tension, but after you started settling in and you all started bonding, it went away for the most part. A small part of your soul, deeply hidden inside, still feels like you aren’t good enough and never will be, and there might be some faint jealousy of the rest of the family. It doesn’t get in the way of you loving them all though.

Bettering your relationship with the family hasn’t slowed down your excessive training though, or how roughly you treat yourself. Cass ends up having to just resort hugging you until you allow yourself to relax. Damian will train with you, but does it with the purpose of tiring you out without causing any damage. If anybody knows what it’s like, it’s Cass and Damian, so they never blame you.

Because of your extremely high standards for yourself, you never slow down, even when you are sick. You’ll go as long as possible, hiding your sickness from the family until you literally can’t anymore.

And even then, you keep pushing yourself and brushing off their concern. The only one who seemingly can pull you away from your spiral with no struggle, is Alfed, because its Alfred, and no one goes against Alfred.

The rest of the family would try different ways to make you rest.

Dick would wrap a weighted blanket around you when you are at the batcomputer, and lean against you as you work, just telling you about his day. It works sometimes, because you always feel safe around him, so if you are already exhausted and drowsy, it can put you out.

Jason hovers in the background too, maybe brings you some of your favorite food from downtown, sits nearby. If you are really sick, he will scold you in the way he does, prodding at you till you go to bed to rest. If its really bad, he will throw you over his shoulder and force you to rest.

Cass is always the first to spot when you are sick, and always gives you small, disappointed frowns when you push yourself too hard, and her reaction probably makes your heart ache the most. She pulls you from your work to watch a movie with her, making sure to wrap you in blankets and keep you close until you fall asleep.

Tim is the type to sit beside you when you work, since hes not the pinnacle of health most times too. Might use it as a “if you go rest, I will to” to force you to go, since you love your brother very much and want him to get better too. The rest of the fam regularly finds you guys passed out over a case together.

Duke hovers too, brings you medicine and will talk to you about his day to keep you distracted from whatever is keeping you awake and active. He understands pushing yourself even when you are sick, and knows that forcing you to go rest wont help, so he tries to subtly push you in that direction instead of pushing you.

Damian scowls nearby, probably gives you some speech about how being sick will make you less lethal and weaker, and then you can’t do your job as Red Bat at all. Resorts to dumping different batclan animals on you until you have no choice. You end up laying against batcow, Jerry the turkey beside you, Alfred the cat in your lap, Titus and Ace laying around you, you get the point.

Bruce looms and hovers, since he’s not the best with words. Its easy to tell he’s worried when he keeps pacing near you or keeping an eye on you. Will matter of factly tell you that you need rest, brings you a blanket or other comfort items.

If you try to run off on patrol, Barbara is quick to tell the others what you are up too. If you are really sick, they’ll whisk you back to the manor kicking and screaming if they have too, as being extremely sick can put you at risk.

If its milder, they’ll just hover nearby and keep a close eye on you and your physical state.

The first few times it happened, it caused a huge argument because of your inability to let yourself rest, and because that sick twisted part inside you was sure it was because they saw you as weak or a burden, like your first siblings did, since there was no excuse for weakness in your first family.

It results in them, and especially Bruce because he’s the one you look up to the most, having to sit down with you and explain that there’s nothing wrong with being sick or so called “weak”, and that its okay to take a rest when you need it.

It also results in the rest of the family having to lead by example, because you’ll always snip and point out how they’re not resting when they are sick, so why should you.

Alfred thanks the circumstances and that the family all love each other so much, he’s been trying to get the batfam try to take breaks and rest when sick for years, and now that they must be someone you can look up too, they’ll actually do it.

It becomes kind of a game to force the sick family members to rest, lotsa blanket burritos and the sick person always ends up with Alfred the cat curled up on their chest purring somehow. Its especially fun when its Bruce that’s sick, because you all have to hound him an extra amount for him to take care of himself.

[gottalottarocks]

You guys have probably heard that the EPA just set new Maximum Contaminant Levels (MCLs) for the first time in decades for PFAS, which is BIG news in the industry, but not a surprise. I've been in meetings for months hearing about how new PFAS regulations were in the works, and the consensus in the environmental sector is that it's long overdue. But for the rest of you who've never heard of PFAS before I can break down what the big issues are and why they've taken so long to address.

^stolen from pubchem

So PFAS stands for per- and poly- flouroalkyl substances, and it's not one chemical compound, but an entire class of thousands of chemicals that have these chains of Carbon and Flourine atoms. For anybody who doesn't have a chem background fluorine is a nasty atom, it has seven electrons in its valence shell and it will do anything to fill it up to eight, creating incredibly strong bonds.

So you have really strong C-F bonds and these chains of C and F atoms are hydrophobic, which means these compounds are durable and water resistant, which makes them great for all sorts of industrial uses. And we've used them in everything: clothing, fast food wrappers, paints, solar panels, and non-stick pans just to start.

Unfortunately, these wonder chemicals are PBTM- Persistent, Bioaccumulative, Toxic, and Mobile. They don't break down, they build up in the food chain, they have adverse health effects, and even though C-F chains are hydrophobic, additional compounds connected to them can make them soluble in water (so they're in our drinking water). We're starting to realize PFAS can raise cholesterol, inhibit immune response, interfere with your thyroid (part of your hormonal system), cause liver toxicity, is linked to cancer, and more!

At this point you're probably starting to think wtf, how did we allow the continued widespread use of these chemicals? Well, we have phased out quite a few high profile PFAS compounds including PFOA and PFOS, but we still want to regulate and test for them in our drinking water. While PFAS is in many different products, the biggest sources of contamination are industrial runoff, areas where fire fighting foams were tested and used, landfills that leach out PFAS into the surrounding area, and wastewater treatment plants. So don't feel too stressed about eating microwave popcorn or using nail polish.

The reason these regulations took so long to implement was because of how difficult it was to connect such small amounts of PFAS with health hazards. The level of concern for PFAS is extremely low- in the ppt (parts per trillion) range. When I sample for contaminants I'm generally testing in the ppm range and higher, for PFAS we're looking an entire scale lower. We literally did not have the technology before the last few decades to detect PFAS in the ppt range in water, let alone study their effects (you can't just impose massive regulations without any proof to back it up).

States that currently have PFAS limits in drinking water have mostly capped it in the 10-70 ppt range. The new MCLs are 4-10 ppt for the six PFAS compounds the EPA addressed, which are six of the most common and most studied PFAS compounds. Most of the bitching I've seen is about how much this will cost and that the new limits are too low. The conservative take on this is that there isn't enough evidence to support such low MCLs, although most people in the environmental industry feel that more and more research keeps coming out and will keep coming out (remember studying such small amounts of anything is difficult) to support these levels. On the other side of the spectrum, there's the consensus that this is just the beginning and that more and more regulations on PFAS will be needed.

And they're in the works! I saw a proposed rule by the EPA that would ban 12 (already defunct) PFAS substances from pesticides. It wouldn't really affect the current manufacturing of pesticides, but it would be a safeguard from letting them back into the manufacturing process in case of a conservative presidency.

If you're still here I'd like to end on the note that as our science improves, our understanding of how we have impacted the environment and our health will improve. We are constantly going to find out about the adverse effects of new chemicals or things that we may not even produce anymore, and that's a good thing. Over time we are going to make the world a healthier and safer place.

[tinydefector]

Hi its me again, feeling a bit in the dumps today so was wondering if you could do any bot of your choice comforting gn!reader after a fight with someone they're close with? Reader thrashed their room and hurt themselves in the progress bcz of the stress and the bot helped them calm themselves down from their panic attack, praises and comforting words.

I had to check your rules if this sort of thing was allowed or not. Srry for the inconveniences!🎀

AFTER THE STORM

Worm! You're always welcome ^^, I may have sped off to make this. It'd not as long as I was hoping to make it. I do hope you enjoy it. Make sure to take some time for yourself, and if you're hurt physically, please make sure to see a doctor.

And I don't have a lot of things I won't write, but please take care of yourself

Rung x human reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: mental health, slight injury

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Rung masterlist

__________________

Rung's audials perked up at the sound of chaos emanating from one of the suites. The clattering of objects being hurled and the echoes of raised voices filled the air, causing confusion and concern among the crew. It wasn't long before Skids, with a determined grip on Rung's arm, forcefully dragged him towards the suite's entrance, attempting to explain the situation. “Had a fight or somethin, could over hear em while I was in the vents, but your the best with this kind of situation” Skids states. 

As they neared the suite, the commotion grew louder, the sounds of distress and frustration mingling in the air. It soon became apparent that the source of the disturbance was the human onboard the ship. Rung's spark sank with empathy as he realised that they were having a meltdown, their emotions manifesting in the destruction of their surroundings. The room had become the unfortunate recipient of their turmoil, bearing the brunt of whatever happened.

As they reached the suite's entrance, Rung took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay beyond the doors. With a gentle nod to Skids, Rung stepped forward, his voice soft and reassuring. "Thank you, Skids. I'll take it from here." He approached the door, his spark filled with worry.

Small sobs leave their lips as they curl up into a ball beside their bed blanket wrap around their body. "Go away!" Rung's spark ached as he entered the dimly lit room, his optics adjusting to the smaller space. The sight of the human curled up in a ball beside their bed, their body trembling with sobs, tugged at his empathetic nature.

He took a cautious step forward, mindful not to intrude further into their personal space. Rung's voice was soft and gentle as he spoke, understanding the need to approach with care. "I'm here to help, but only if you want me to be. I won't leave you alone, it seems you have had an eventful night” Rung found a spot nearby to sit, positioning himself at a respectful distance. 

 “Can you list five things you see around you? It could be a pen, a spot on the ceiling, anything in your surroundings” He asks ever so softly, moving closer to them. “ my bed, my blanket. Your optics, my hands and your glowing stuff” they stutter thought sobbed breaths. As Rung adjusted his position to sit on the floor, he noticed the human's need for closer comfort.

 Their head pressed against his chest, seeking companionship and a sense of security. Without hesitation, Rung gently lifted them into his lap, cradling them with a comforting embrace. He carefully wrapped the blanket around them again, he can feel something wet against his leg, as he presses a hand to it and brings it up to his optics for examination. It's blood from their foot, he lets out a shuttered vent as he holds them closer. 

“ four things you can touch or feel.” He states again this time, slowly rocking them back and forth against his chassis his optics flicker down to watch them as he discards his glasses off to the side. “My blanket, your chassis, my foot bleeding, you.” They call out their answers again, They slowly wipe tears from their eyes as they look up into the bright blue glow of rungs eyes and chest. 

“You're doing very well, I'll have a look at your feet soon, I need you to be able to talk to me though, just a few more I promise,Three things you hear. This could be any external sound.?” Rung's tone carried a genuine concern, a sincere desire to be a source of comfort for the human. He knew that sometimes injuries happened when things got too heated. 

“The Ship, my heart, your Voice” they call out, eyes closed as they press closer to him. 

“Two things you can smell.” He asks again, continuing his small line of questions. They take a deep breath trying to smell the amount of mucus that had built up from them crying and their  nose running “ the Polish you use, and WD-40?” They ask almost confused, it makes Rung chuckle. “ yes it's similar, I use ot to make sure my joints don't Cease up, also helps prevent rusting” he replies while running a thumb against their face wiping the tears away. 

“One more my dear, a thing you can taste. What does the inside of your mouth taste like, gum, coffee?” The soft blue glow from his optics and chest served as the only source of light in the dark room, casting a gentle illumination that seemed to envelop them both in a comforting embrace.

“Salt” they take a shaky breath, they have settled down as Rungs cradles them. 

"I'm here with you, my dear. Take your time, allow yourself to breathe. I won't rush you or push you to share more than you're comfortable with. Just know that I'm here to listen, to support you. May I?" He asked while gesturing to their foot. 

They move slightly, letting Rung have a look at the injury, he can see the cuts from glass but they don't seem to have anything stuck in it which is a relief. "Oh my you have done yourself a good one, well get that checked my First-aid” Rung hums, his voice a soothing presence in the room. He lets them move again, they snuggle up close to him again, the soft hum of his spark seems to settle them. 

 "Which one of the bots sent you?" they asked softly, their voice filled with curiosity and vulnerability. Rung's optics dimmed slightly as he gave a small, wry smile. "Ah, the ever-inquisitive mind of yours," he replied, his tone gentle yet laced with a touch of amusement. "It was Skids, my dear. He recognized your distress and sought to provide you with the support you needed." Rung's voice held no judgement or criticism, only a simple acknowledgement of the truth, Skids had been the one to bring him here. 

"I must say, though," Rung continued, his voice filled with warmth, "I'm grateful that Skids got me here quickly” His words carried a genuine sincerity. They lay against Rung, pressed against the centre of his spark chamber watching the dancing blue light. 

"Rung... am, am I a bad person?" they asked, their words filled with uncertainty and self-doubt, the weight of their emotions pressing heavily upon them. Rung could sense their reluctance to delve into the details of what had happened, their desire to shield themselves from the pain it brought. He respected their need for privacy, understanding that some wounds were too raw to be immediately shared.

His optics filled with a mixture of compassion and determination as he responded, his voice gentle but firm. "My dear, no one is inherently good or bad. We all have moments of darkness, moments where we question ourselves and our actions. It's a part of being sentient, What matters is what we choose to do with those moments." Rung's words carried a depth of wisdom.

"You are a complex being, my dear," Rung continued, his voice filled with reassurance. 

As he spoke, Rung gently tightened his hold on them. “Are you feeling up to facing Ratchet or would you rather be one of the other medics?” he asked while pressing his chin to the top of their head. 

They lay there for a moment debating on what to do. "Can... Can you take me to Ratchet? I stepped on and broken glass, I don't think I'll make it there with everyone looking at me" they whimper while clinging to him.

"Of course, my dear," Rung responded softly, his voice filled with kindness and understanding. "I will gladly take you to Ratchet, no more tears now sweetspark."

With utmost care, Rung shifted their position, ensuring they were still cradled securely in his arms. He knew that their injury required attention, and Ratchet was just the medic for it.

"Let us make our way to the medbay," Rung suggested, his voice soothing and supportive. "I will shield you from prying optics as we navigate the ship. Pull the blanket over your head if you need to. " As Rung carefully rose to his pedes, cradling the injured human in his arms, he made sure to shield them from unnecessary attention. With a determined yet gentle stride, he navigated the corridors of the Lost Light. “your stronger than you believe you are my dear and I'm very proud of you” he states while walking 

[literary-motif]

All The Loose Ends

Isaac Rhoades x Reader

Isaac is overworked and exhausted. You make it better.

The smoke curling up from the end of his cigarette looked eerily white in the moonlight. It seemed almost like a ghost, Isaac mused, tilting his head and letting his gaze wander over the slightly more unkempt part of the garden where the people he loved most lay buried. He tasted ash in his mouth, only in part caused by indulging in the habit he had meant to swear off long ago.

In truth, Isaac was so overwhelmingly exhausted that he could not muster the energy to get himself to care about it — about his health (not that he had ever particularly been concerned for it), about the smoke only partly making its way out of the opened kitchen window, about the headache torturing him for the better part of the week, about the feeling of suffocation rising in his chest when he thought about his work or as much as took a glance at his desk; even the person sleeping soundly a storey above him was nothing more than an afterthought now, another ghost to him. They would leave soon enough.

The thought made his heart seize painfully. Pickle — recalling the nickname brought a small smile to his tired face — was an inexhaustible source of life. They were a fresh breath of air, a reminder to cherish the time he had left instead of just going through the motions each day. They made him strive for more. They made him want to change. They made him want to live and break out of the void existence he had carved out for himself, and into which he had dragged them selfishly.

Isaac took another drag of his cigarette, narrowing his eyes to faintly make out his mother’s favorite flowers growing peacefully beside her grave; but alas, abandoning his grandfather’s legacy was impossible. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

The question made him choke on his exhale. Coughing, he turned to glance at you with furrowed brows.

“You should try, honestly,” you say, stepping up beside him and taking the low-burning cigarette from his fingers. “You remind me of a raccoon,” you add, contemplating only a moment before putting the cigarette out in the soil of one of the succulents placed carefully on the countertop under the window. The moonlight allowed you to see the ash discarded in the sink as you glance down and you throw a displeased look at Isaac.

The night was not dark enough to hide his blush. “A raccoon? How so?” he asked, clearing his throat, the strong and decisive voice you had grown used to uncharacteristically morphed into a tired rasp. “Is it my nocturnal activity?”

You chuckled, looking up at the moon. “I was thinking more about the bags under your eyes.” They had gotten more and more prominent in the preceding weeks and you were starting to worry. 

It was an open secret that Isaac did not settle down easily. You could hear him pacing in the middle of the night sometimes or saw the light streaming into the entrance hall from under the closed door of his study at some ungodly hour when your own troubled thoughts would not let you sleep. “What’s keeping you awake tonight?” you asked in a light tone as you closed the window, hoping it masked your worry.

A beat of silence passed between the two of you, as could have been expected. Isaac did not open up easily and it was a shot in the dark hoping he would answer your question truthfully, if at all. You grimaced, fearing you had overstepped. To break the tension rising steadily with the moments of quiet, you were about to change the subject and point out what you assumed was the constellation Orion in the night sky. The deep, heavy sigh escaping Isaac made you pause. 

You turned your head to look at him. It was almost unheard of that Isaac let his carefully constructed mask of stoic nonchalance slip, even for a moment. He was usually so desperate to keep control of both the world around him and himself, it was painful to watch him hold onto it sometimes and brush away sentimentality as if it was a weakness he could not dare to afford. 

The sigh was an admission of defeat. It was the tangible proof, along with the ash in the sink and the way his head was bowed, that Isaac had reached the end of his seemingly inexhaustible rope. 

“Just life,” he said quietly in response, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. The headache had not subsided, and his usual self-destructive remedy of downing a few sleeping pills with a glass of whiskey seemed out of the question now that you were here. 

Isaac’s exhaustion made his head swim. It was hard to say when he had last taken a break when the past weeks blended into one long string of cases and files and meetings and work, work, work. There had never been much of a life for him outside of it, and while working gave his pitiful existence purpose, sometimes it wrung him dry.

The light touch of your hand on his arm made him startle. His eyes flew open and he turned, wincing at the sharp stab of pain it gave his head. Your eyes were fixed on him as if trying to solve a puzzle and Isaac quickly thought up a snide comment about your evident predisposition for a private eye, but it died on his tongue when he noticed the glass of water you were holding out for him to take. 

You smiled faintly at him when he took a few tentative sips of the cool water. “I have fought my fair share of battles with headaches. If there is anything I can do, let me know,” you spoke softly, “Regardless, might I propose getting some rest? Sleep is the most effective natural remedy for them, I have found.”

“I am fine,” Isaac answered weakly. It sounded unconvincing even to his own ears. You hummed, clearly not believing his lie. Perhaps you truly would make a good private investigator. 

“Let me—” you began hesitatingly, “Ah, that is to say, I would like to try something, if I may?” 

“What is it, Pickle?” Isaac asked, sighing again. There was no reason to hold onto pretense now and he was entirely too exhausted to care for it. His mask would be back in place by morning. 

You moved to stand behind him, placing your hands on his tense shoulders. Isaac stiffened immediately, his posture straightening into the usual way he carried himself, always on high alert. He did not move, either to brush your hands off of him or to step away from your touch. You took it as a small encouragement to continue.

“Relax,” you soothed, starting to massage small circles in the place between his shoulder blades with your thumbs. You heard Isaac inhale shakily, but he stayed still, letting you work. Gradually, he started to ease into the touch. 

“You’re—” Isaac rasped dreamily, clearing his throat a moment later for propriety’s sake, “You’re quite good at this.” His voice was nothing more than a whisper, his eyes falling shut of their own accord to drift in the feeling of being touched — kindly and without an underlying agenda to exploit him.

Smiling quietly to yourself at how a few simple touches made Isaac pliable in your hands, you merely hummed in answer. “The tension you carry right here” — you said, moving your fingers to work on the muscles of his lower neck, earning a soft sigh from Isaac — “is responsible for your headache, as far as I can tell. If I had to guess, it comes from sitting at your desk, hunched over casefiles for the better part of the month. Perhaps you could stop overworking and spare yourself this pain? True, now I can—” ease it. Help you. Make sure you’re alright. Take care of you. 

You cut yourself off before revealing too much, your hands still working on Isaac’s shoulders and neck. They were becoming less and less tense under your gentle ministrations. 

When Isaac opened his eyes again, to his horror, his vision was blurry with tears. He wiped at them discreetly. “Thank you,” he said, hoping you chose to ignore how strained his voice sounded. “I have never, I think— Well, it’s been a while since someone,” he hesitated, unsure of how to continue, “did this for me.”

“Anytime, really,” you said, dropping your hands from his shoulders and allowing him to turn and face you. “Although I meant what I said: I would appreciate it if you toned down on burning the candle at both ends, Isaac.” 

Slowly, giving you sufficient time to draw back, he leaned into you, placing his arms around you in a tight embrace. You exhaled, surprised, but wrung your arms around him in return, treading your fingers through the hair at the base of his head. Isaac shivered, holding you tighter. “Thank you,” he said again, voice rough from the lump in his throat, “and I will, I promise.”

[crossdreamers]

The new hateful anti-transgender regulations of Missouri show us that it was never about the kids

New regulations make it practically impossible for transgender people to get gender affirming medical support in Missouri.

Republicans have for a long time covered their transphobia under concern for the kids. In accordance with this a lot of their anti-trans laws and regulations have been there to “protect the kids”.

For sure , the bathroom laws and the attacks on trans participation in sports have proven that their ultimate goal is to exclude trans people from society, but they could always hide behind the idea that trans people would still be allowed to be trans people.

Missouri directive proves that the end goal is the eradication of trans people

The new emergency regulations in Missouri prove beyond doubt that this is no longer the case. Sure, it presents a set of regulations that on paper contain some loopholes that might, theoretically, allow for sanctioned hormone replacement therapy and corrective surgery. Still,  there are so many barriers  that this is practically impossible.

The underlying logic is the old medical paradigm of gatekeeping (psychiatric therapy, long waiting periods, constant review ensuring that you are living up to the standards of a conservative society). However, they are taking this to a new level. 

So, if you are suffering from anxiety and depression (most likely caused by transphobia), that would stop you from getting relevant health care. If they can document that you are affected  by “social media addiction” or “social contagion”, that will be used against you. Following Transgender World is probably enough.

So this is really about stopping trans people from showing the world that they are trans. Trans people who have already transitioned can no longer get hormones in Missouri. They will have to detransition or move to a sane state.

Note that the Missouri attorney general issued this new state directive citing a consumer protection law normally used to prosecute fraudulent business practices. These regulations have not even been discussed by lawmakers.

Misleading presentations of science

In the regulations the Republicans have the audacity to cite the World Professional Association for Transgender Health in support of their policy. WPATH is totally against this kind of transphobia. The text is full of biased and selective misrepresentations  of relevant research.

The Republicans try to make people believe that transitioning medically is a risky procedure. So keep in mind that the regret rate for trans people who have transitioned using hormones and surgery is less than 1 percent.

The use of puberty blockers is not “experimental”. Drugs in the class have been FDA approved since the 1990s to treat early puberty

Most of the negative findings associated with trans people is caused by lack of proper health care and the rhetoric of Republicans and other transphobes. The Republicans are basically creating the conditions that lead to the suffering they use as an excuse to persecute trans people.

These are the requirements of the transphobic regulations

Any person or health organization that provide a covered gender transition intervention to a patient will have to:

Assess (at least annually) whether the patient continues to have gender dysphoria.

Disclose conspicuously—on its website, physically in writing, and orally in person by the prescribing provider—to the patient and (if the patient is a minor) to the patient’s parents or legal guardians, [anti-trans propaganda arguments listed in the regulation].

Ensure that for at least the 3 most recent consecutive years, the patient has exhibited a medically documented, long-lasting, persistent and intense pattern of gender dysphoria.

Ensure that the patient has received a full psychological or psychiatric assessment, consisting of not fewer than 15 separate, hourly sessions (at least 10 of which must be with the same therapist) over the course of not fewer than 18 months to explore the developmental influences on the patient’s current gender identity and to determine, among other things, whether the person has any mental health comorbidities.

Ensure that any psychiatric symptoms from existing mental health comorbidities of the patient have been treated and resolved.

Ensure that the patient has received a comprehensive screening to determine whether the patient has autism.

Ensure that the patient has received a comprehensive screening (at least annually) for social media addiction or compulsion and has not, for at least the six months prior to beginning any intervention, suffered from social media addiction or compulsion.

Ensure (at least annually) that the patient is not experiencing social contagion with respect to the patient’s gender identity.

Track all adverse effects (both expected and unexpected) that arise from any course of covered gender transition intervention for all patients beginning the first day of intervention and continuing for a period of not fewer than 15 years.

Maintain data about adverse effects in a form that can be accessed readily for systematic study.

Obtain and keep on file informed written consent from the patient and (if the patient is a minor) from all parents or guardians who have authority to consent to medical intervention, as to each requirement [listed in this section of the regulation9. Such written consent shall be obtained for each intervention.

For medical personnel these restrictions are so wide that trying to help trans people will lead to a too high risk for legal persecution. We would guess this means an end of gender affirming medical healthcare  in Missouri.

The rules take effect April 27.

Missouri rules part of rapid push to limit trans health care

Missouri to Restrict Medical Care for Transgender Adults, Citing Consumer Protection Law

Below, Video by the Young Turks on Missouri Attorney General Bans Gender-Affirming Care by "Emergency Rule"

Photo: Protester wearing  a transgender pride flag at the Missouri State House. From the New York Times, Charlie Riedel, Associated Press

[filmtv2022]

Moving Forward: Chapter Four (18+ MDNI)

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Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N returns home after her fight with Rooster and Hangman. What should have been a cathartic conversation with her father turns into a heartbreaking dose of reality as new information comes to light not only about her history with Jake and Bradley but also about her father's health. The world was shaky before, and now it's crumbling around her.

Warning: language + references to death and character drama + cancer + lots of emotions (grief)

A/N: I hope you guys "enjoy" this one. It has got some heaviness to it, but I think it will set up where I'd like to go with this story very nicely. Also, and as always, I apologize for any and all mistakes.

The frustration dulled to a simmer during the drive home, but the remnants of the tears you shed were still sticky on your cheeks as you drove. The setting sun colored the low-hanging clouds in vibrant hues of purple and pink by the time you pulled into the drive. Mellow light poured out onto the front porch painting the concrete in a peachy hue. Parking your bike in its spot, you wasted no time pushing open the door and making your way inside. Energetic voices floated down the hall, getting louder and more vibrant the closer you got to the kitchen. Your middle brother's resonant voice carried through the house as he told some silly story about his most recent high school adventure. The thud of your bag and boots hitting the floor was lost in a burst of youthful laughter. The high-pitched squeal of your younger siblings tugged at your heart and allowed for a small smile to grace your lips.

Standing in the shadowy hall, you went unnoticed at first. As you came around the corner to the perfect image of your family at the dinner table the weight of everything actually started to lift. Their plates were mostly clean, and now conversation flowed freely. The only voice missing from the fray was your father’s, and by god you missed it. Sitting side-by-side, your parents clung to one another gently. Ice’s strong arm rested on the back of her chair, while your mother reached for his free hand under the table. Catching your approach, he turned his head to look at you. Silent questions and concerns were evident in the furrow of his brows.

The sudden shouting of your name tore you from your moment of nostalgic reflection. Stepping further into the room, you plastered a grin on your face as the youngest of your sisters came screaming across the floor toward you. Her thin arms were outstretched for you to grab her as she continued to repeat your name over and over again. Stooping down, you braced yourself for impact. There’d been a time, not all that long ago when picking her up this way had been impossible. Now it was something you’d never let go of again.

The second her tiny frame was in your arms you stood spinning her around as she held herself to you like a vice. Letting go of an exaggerated groan, you halted your twirls, shifting her weight so that she was on your good hip.

“Y/N, where you go today?” her voice met you as she held your cheeks in her hands.

Looking at her you said, “Where’d I go today?” she shook her head yes before you continued, “I was at work, sweet girl. You know that.” smiling at her you hoped that this sudden change of routine hadn’t caused her too much stress. She’d already been through so much in her short little life.

“Flyin’ planes?” the last word came out more like 'pawaynes' than planes, but it was so endearing you couldn't help, but smile.

“That’s right, and kickin’ Uncle Mav’s butt in the air.”

“Don’t hurt Uncle Mav, Y/N. That’s not nice.” A genuine concern laced her words as she admonished you.

A huff of stilted laughter caught your attention. It wasn’t the same as hearing your father’s laughter before the cancer had taken most of his voice, but it still filled your heart with joy. Glancing over at him, you met his wide smile with your own before turning back to the little girl in your arms to reassure her that Mav was in fact okay.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. I didn’t hurt Uncle Mav, I’d never do that.”

Walking over to the table you sat down in the empty spot that had been your seat since you were a kid. Your sister squirmed on your lap before tearing herself away and returning to her “big girl chair” on the other side of the table. Your chest clenched as you realized just how grown she’d gotten in the last few months. The conversation picked back up as the rest of the family launched into their previous stories. Each one overlapped the other vying for attention.

Sitting just to the right your father, you could feel his eyes on you the entire time, analyzing everything for any sign of how the day actually went. You couldn’t be sure, but if you were a betting woman at least a few text messages had already been sent his way from Mav. Whether or not they said anything about the way the day actually ended or not was the million-dollar question. Pete might not have been in the room for your outburst, but news of it was sure to travel fast. Shit like that like always did.

Noticing that you'd made no motion to grab yourself a plate of food, your mom stood silently and fixed your plate. The off-white porcelain was scratched from years of use, but she refused to get rid of the set. It had been a lovely wedding present from Carole Bradshaw. Setting the heaping pile of food down in front of you, she placed a kiss on the top of your head. Her delicate fingers squeezed your shoulders for just a moment before she returned to her seat.

Silently, you ate some of what she’d offered, but most of it went untouched. The minutes stretched on, but before long it was time for the littles to get ready for bed. Standing from their seats, both of your parents headed off to get the nighttime routine rolling. The school day started bright and early, and with so many in need of a shower or bath before heading to sleep, this part of the day often seemed to stretch on forever in the Kazansky household.

Alone in the kitchen, you listened to the hustle and bustle that was taking place upstairs. As had been the norm for many years, you cleaned up the post-dinner mess. Clearing the table, filling the dishwasher, and getting it started before moving on to taking out the trash. Tying off the black hefty bag, it took a swift yank to free it from the can. You didn’t bother putting back on your shoes as you plodded down the driveway in your socks toward the garbage cans that sat at the end.

The air was lovely, a cool breeze swept through fending off the vicious heat of the day. Taking a deep breath you soaked it all in. The sound of the leaves rustling in the wind, the earthy scent of freshly mowed grass, the woodsy burn of a bonfire crackling in someone else’s backyard… it was all so peaceful. The far-off grumble of an engine startled you back into action. Dropping the bag in the can, you let the lid slam as you turned toward the house.

Back inside, you moved on autopilot to the one safe space that remained after all this time. The office door was open just a crack, and a dim glow filtered out into the hall. Without knocking, you snuck into the room. It was an unspoken rule between you and your father. If the door was open, then it was okay to come inside. The room was filled with the orange light that came through the lampshade in the corner. There was just enough illumination to clearly display the piles of paper that were spread out over the surface of his desk.

Sitting there, Ice held one of the letters in his hand. The blank expression plastered over his features was broken at the sound of the door coming open. Snapping his head to look at you, the concern from earlier returned in full force. The corners of his lips turned down as he took in the sight of you.

You stayed planted by the door. The soft click of his keyboard forced you to look away from him toward the screen. He typed slowly and deliberately, before turning back to look at you as you read.

It’s okay if you’re not all right.

And that was all it took. Tears pooled in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. When they didn’t come, Ice stood from his chair and closed the space between you. His strong arms closed around your body, holding you close to his chest. Wrapped in his loving warmth, you let go of your composure. Silent sobs shook your shoulders, and your tears stained his sweater, but that didn’t matter. Holding you tighter, he kept you as steady as possible through the waves of emotion. The faint scent of his cologne enveloped you the longer you clung to him.

In time, the tears slowed giving you back control of your lungs and body. Sensing that it was okay to move, he guided you forward to the open chair next to his desk before claiming his own. Silence filled the void between you as Ice waited for you to initiate the conversation. He stayed focused on the way your body curled in on itself as you tucked your feet up into the seat with you. Your shoulders rounded into a hunch as your arms circled your knees, your chin resting on top, while your eyes glued themselves to the shelves behind your father. Your joints didn’t like being forced into this position, but perching yourself this way had become a habit. The hours spent next to him, sitting just like this as he chugged away at paperwork, teaching you bits and pieces had left their mark.

“I can’t fly with them,” you confessed quietly.

The movement of keys could be heard as he typed his reply. Hearing them stop, you tugged your face back to the computer and away from the wall.

The screen read, Are we talking about Bradley or Jake?

“Does it matter?”

Ice leveled his gaze at you, his eyes piercing and steady. The answer in them was obvious. Of course, it mattered.

“I know… I know.” turning away again, this time to stare out the office window, your voice quivered as you continued to speak, “It’s just… having them here… seeing the way they look at me…”

Taking his time as he typed, Ice shifted in his seat as he finished.

Glancing back, you knew what it’d say before you even looked, It’s time to let it go, Y/N.

“And do what? Just forget? Pretend like I don’t wish every day that I was the one- ”

Your voice broke forcing you into silence again. You struggled against the tension in your throat. The words you wanted to say were trapped, none of them felt right, and yet you were bursting at the seams to speak.

That’s not what I mean and you know it… it's not about forgetting, it's about moving forward. You deserve to be happy.

“And how do I do that?”

You have to forgive yourself…

His hands stayed on the keys, but he stopped typing for a moment as if he was thinking hard about what to say next.

And you have to talk to them, Y/N. You can’t run away from them forever. I know you’re hurting, but so are they. And I know you blame yourself for so much, but it’s never going to get easier until you face it. You have to do it, for you and for them.

“I know you're right, but…. Jake… he’s so angry with me, he hates me, and I even can’t blame him. If I were him… I’d want nothing to do with me. His best friend’s in the fucking ground because of me. How do I even begin to apologize for that? It’s not possible” New tears formed as you tried to focus on your breathing, but they didn’t fall, not yet, “And, Bradley? I just… I miss him more than I should and I don’t want to feel that way anymore. It hurts too much.”

Choking on the last of your words, you unfolded from your seat and walked to the bookshelf across the room. The tips of your fingers brushed along the spines of the aging books, their cracked leather was grounding beneath your touch.

The pair of you remained quiet for a while, each lost in thought, but a rough cough from your father stopped you in your tracks. Turning back to face him, the lamp's bright light gleamed off his glasses. In your silence, he’d picked up the letter he’d been looking at earlier. He focused on it intensely for a moment longer before lifting his eyes to meet yours. Studying him, you noticed just how run down he looked as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. The look on his face sent your stomach plummeting to the floor. The realization of what must have been on that paper clicked into place with a sickening thump.

At almost a whisper you asked the dreaded question, “It's back, isn’t it?”

Ice simply nodded 'yes' as he sat down the paper.

“Does mom know?”

He nodded 'yes' again.

“What about-”

He cut you off with a shake of his head. This time it was a 'no' and you understood why. He knew you were going to ask about your siblings because last time you'd been the one to help them pick up the pieces after that conversation. It had to happen sooner rather than later, but you also knew that it would be a careful one with each word chosen thoughtfully.

“And Uncle Pete, does he know?” you stared back at him already knowing the answer before he gave it. A broken look of anguish came over your father’s face as he admitted the truth. His wingman was in the dark about this development. There was a reason Mav was back in town on orders from your father, and it wasn’t just because he was a great pilot. He needed to say goodbye… but he just hadn’t figured out how.

“Is there anything they can do? Anything the doctors haven’t tried?”

Another 'no' and the sight of his answer tore at you in a way you could never have imagined. Panic fluttered deep in your body, sending a flush over your skin. Seeing your shoulders hitch, and your eyes glaze over, Ice was out of his chair and to you in an instant. Holding you tightly to him yet again, he hid his face from view to give himself time to collect his own emotions.

Feeling him shudder, you pulled back just enough to look at his face. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t need to see him fully as you spoke, “You can’t leave me yet… I can’t do this without you, Dad. I don't wanna-"

And for the first time, he spoke, “I’ll always be with you… no matter where you go.”

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

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[ak47stylegirl]

Let me take care of you.

This fic/chapter literally tried to kill me, It's a miracle I got it to a point where I can post it lol I hope you guys enjoy it!

Continued on from this fic.

--

Scar was woken up a couple of hours later by Jellie pawing at his face. “Well, hello there, Miss Jellie…” Scar smiled at the cat sitting on his chest like she owned it, “You’re hungry, I’m guessing?” 

Jellie meowed in response, rubbing her cheek against Scar’s face. 

“Hmm, well let’s not keep you waiting, huh…” Scar hummed, giving Jellie an affectionate scratch behind the ear as he did so. Giving Jellie a nudge to jump off him, Scar glanced over at Grian. 

The avian was snuggled up beside Scar, his feverishly hot cheek smooshed up against Scar’s shoulder. 

Scar smiled sadly, the sight was adorable, yes, but his pesky bird didn’t look anywhere near well at all. Grian’s face was flushed red, his hair/head feathers damp with sweat. Scar could physically feel the heat radiating from Grian. 

It concerned Scar on so many levels. 

Scar sighed as he began untangling himself from Grian’s hold, carefully lowering Grain’s head onto their pillow. Waiting a second to see if that had disturbed the avian, (It didn’t, thank the Void…) Scar carefully slipped his legs off the bed; and sat up. 

Scar yawned as he stretched, allowing his mind and body to adjust to being vertical. It was important Scar let his body adjust, otherwise he would probably trigger a dizzy spell and fall over. No one wanted that. 

(Scar had gotten up too fast before…it’s not fun facepalming the floor) 

Chronic illness was a bitch but at least it wasn’t too bad today. Scar would have been devastated if his medical issues kept him from looking after his pesky bird. Jellie meowed, her tail held high as she rubbed her body against Scar’s legs. 

She was getting impatient.

“Oh Shush, Little Miss…” Scar mumbled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, grabbing his cane as he stood up with a small grunt. “I know you’re hungry, but we don’t want to wake your papa-”

“Scar?” 

Scar grimaced as he turned around, finding Grian groggily peering up at him. Scar couldn’t help but notice how the avian could barely lift his head off of the pillow. Concern once again flooded Scar’s heart and soul. 

“Hey love…” Scar sighed as he gave Grian a soft look, leaning down to press a kiss to Grian’s forehead. “I’m just feeding Jellie…you go back to sleep, okay?” 

Grian looked briefly ready to argue against that. But any attempts to get up were short-lived as Grian was wrecked with full-body shivers and stomach cramps. Grian nodded with a groan, wrapping an arm around his upset stomach. 

“Oh love…” 

Scar bit his lip, glazing down at Grian, who seemed sicker each time Scar looked. There had to be something he could do to help? Maybe they had some health or regen potions lying around? 

Jellie howled, causing Scar to wince. (And worst, it caused Grian to whimper)

“Okay, okay…I got the message Jellie…” Scar pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing as he made his way out of the bedroom, cat following close behind. “You could be a little more con-con-siter-...dang it! Kind, you could be a little more kind, girl…” 

Jellie jumped up onto the kitchen counter, meowing like she didn’t have a clue what Scar was talking about. She was a little angel. 

“Your papa’s not feeling well…” Scar explained as he grabbed Jellie’s food out of the fridge, scooping some into Jellie’s little bowl. “So meowing at the top of your lungs doesn’t really help, missy…” 

Scar placed Jellie’s bowl down near the kitchen window, unable to stop himself from smile as she began to devour it. “You’re lucky you’re too cute to stay mad at…hmmm, that’s something you and your papa both got in common…” 

No matter what Grian says, his pouting face is adorable. Actually, Grian was just adorable in general. (Though he could also be downright terrifying, which Scar found sort of hot-)

The morning sun was long on its way up into the sky, lighting up the apartment. Now that Scar was up, he decided he might as well get ready for the day. First things first, Scar needed a shower, (Plus nature was calling).

Silently, Scar made his way back into the bedroom (For clothes) and the sight that met him made his heartache. Grian had curled up into a feeble ball, cuddling Scar’s pillow close. With a sigh, Scar grabbed some clothes out of his dresser. 

Stopping briefly by the bed, Scar leaned down and kissed Grian’s cheek. Grian hummed softly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the pillow with a slight smile. Mission accomplished, Scar made his way to the bathroom. 

TBC...

[hoetachi]

REMEMBER THE TIME — KARS

do you remember the time when we fell in love?

he dreamt of you every night — it’s almost sickening to think it’s been 10,200 decades since he last laid eyes on his beloved. traveling the earth every decade hoping he’ll find you, or someone as similarly to you but that’s nearly impossible to find a being as unwonted as yourself— you were one of one

he cursed himself every waking moment why he didn’t turn you an immoral once you fell ill— images of your once glimmering cocoa skin falling an washed brown made his stomach turn. he searched the earth of its resources to nurse you back health, however your time was are limited and by the time he returned, your clock had ticked for the last time. your death caused him to take on the ideals of conquering the earth, because to him, if he did you would be right by his side.

ever since he declare his soon rule of the earth, he put his efforts in motion through his loyal companions, however he sensed it wouldn’t be as easy as he thought once news of a ‘jojo’ has made himself known, yet this jojo wasn’t by his lonesome, two women accompanied him. one of fair skin and the other, by the description — made the inside of his chest tighten, ‘it couldn’t be’ he thought, he was sure it could be someone who just favors you but it couldn’t actually be.. you?

and because of that nagging thought that it could possibly be you, it lead him to this very same moment now

“i’ll let you have the amulet in exchange of 5 days and 5 nights with her in my care. i’ll make sure no harm will come to her” he negotiated with the three as they stood on a sidewalk near the royal blue ocean that reflected the dancing night sky. he sensed the intense emotions of the jojo character but nevermind him because his main focus was the woman hidden behind him. he watched her carefully, observing all of her being, which was the main reason why she was hiding behind joseph in the first place

his intense gaze made her nervous, but strangely not in a bad way, somehow it felt.. familiar. it’s been centuries since a man last stared at you in that way and you wish your memory could help you remember who was the first to caused that. the world now since your resurrection (which joseph accidentally caused) has changed greatly yet the beauty of nature still stayed the same and that sadden you because it didn’t feel the same without your beloved who taught the way of the land and learn to worship its beauty, from one being to another.

“you must be bloody mad!” jojo exclaimed with a disapproving brow, you saw him ball up his fist ready to make a foolish mistake so without putting much thought you got in between the two quickly

“joseph…” you shared a begging look and the young man almost looks like a cartoon character with how wide his eyes gotten from what you’re allowing yourself to do.

“but y/n think about this? you’re going to be this monster’s prisoner and we can’t help you” the whole goal was to protect the amulet as well as you and you wanted to leap into the arms of your supposedly biggest threat? of course he was going to look at you like you had two heads

“i understand your concern and it’s greatly appreciated, however when i look at him…” you glanced over to the long raven haired being as he gaze into the distance with soft and longing features, “i feel nostalgic for some reason” you said more to yourself than towards him. soon you felt a dainty hand rest on the small of back snapping you back reality and realizing it was lisa lisa

“jojo, could you please give us a second?” lisa lisa spoke as she ushered you slightly away from the men. she removed her shades to reveal a worried expression, “do you think it’s.. him?” you look away, chewing on your lip as quick flashes of your cloudy memories of the times you spent with a man replayed again. “i don’t know.. however i won’t ever know unless i give this man a chance, besides i could find out his motive with the amulet”

the fair skinned woman pressed her lips as a slight distressed expression formed, but she nodded — giving her final ‘ok’ to the plan before hiding it behind her shades once again. the both of you return to the men and discuss the terms of the arrangement. you hugged both lisa lisa and jojo, “it won’t be long until we’re reunited again” you reassured, “just be careful” jojo warned, giving you one last squeeze before you gave your full attention towards your new guardian

he gracefully extended a palm towards you with gentle yet mysterious eyes

“shall we, my dear?”

➸ part 2

reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated <3.

[topaz-witch-tea]

OMG HIIIII

FIRST OF ALL I LOVE UR WORKS SM I THINK IM LOSING MY MIND FROM THE CUTENESS

SECOND OF ALL I GOT A BRAINROT TO SHARE WITH YOU!

Ahem- So yk how Yingxing was told to be like, very workaholic and so consumed with his work to the point he forgets to eat, drink or sleep?

I headcanon that sometimes he goes back into this old habit for a week or two just working to the point that Yanqing has to alert Dan Feng and Jing Yuan to drag the guy outside of his workshop LMAO

They force him to take care of himself or Yanqing will cry (HES SO CUTE I CANT-)

Aww thank you so much!!! I really enjoy getting asks and having people interested in it!!!

This is absolutely adorable.

***I hope I did your brainrot justice. The draft has been in progress for a while and I am now finishing it at 1:30 AM

Yingxing has his own private forge in the manor so he can work on his own things and also so he wouldn't have to stay in the Artisanship Commission all day to work on things. The problem is that now his commute from his home to a forge has been cute, he can spend more time on personal projects.

He becomes a ghost, just meandering the halls for food and water before returning back to his work. He is gone for so long that Yanqing misses him. He's also a bit scared since his father looks like he died inside.

Yanqing would absolutely go running to the other two about it. He's too young to understand what's actually happening to his dad but something is wrong and he doesn't like it. Dan Feng is displeased due to his inability to take care of his health but also the distress it is causing Yanqing. Jing Yuan is more concerned as to the lack of care Yingxing is participating in. While Yanqing just wants his Baba to get better and play with him again.

********

Yanqing waited patiently at the door for what has been 30 minutes now. In his hands was his white lion plushie sporting a very noticeable tear on its ear, a result from a play fight with Mimi. On the other side of the door was his father's private forge- a place for the Furnace Master to pursue his private projects. Yanqing was never allowed in without permission lest his father accidentally pour molten near him or accidentally harm him with tools of the trade.

He had knocked quietly to request his father's aid and was told to stand outside quietly for a bit as his father cleaned up the forge. Yingxing had looked tired and a bit frazzled. His usually neat hair was knotted and messy and he had bags under his eyes. So engrossed in a project after getting his hands on some rare materials, he had forgone daily care and even the pleasures of life. He ate when his stomach growled louder than the sound of his hammer and he drank when he would develop pounding headaches and his vision would get blurry. He would sleep on his chair so that he may continue his work when the sun rose.

Yanqing was quite distraught upon laying eyes on his father. He hadn't seen him in a week and a half and did not dare to call for him, not wanting to disturb his important work. So there he stood until 10 became 20 which became 30. His feet started to hurt and he couldn't help but feel upset. Did he forget about Yanqing?

Yanqing wanted to go and knock again, but he was always warned about disturbing his father in the forge. So he settled for the next best option. Running down the courtyard, he made his way to the archives where his other 2 fathers engrossed themselves in a book that was gifted to them.

Walking up to Jing Yuan, Yanqing tugged on his clothing in an attempt to get his attention.

"Yanqing? What are you doing here?" Jing Yuan picked the child up and put him on his lap.

"Baba is really busy. I asked him to fix my toy and he made me wait outside for a long time."

"Oh, did he now? Doesn't he know its wrong to make Yanqing wait at all?" Jing Yuan teased before tickling his son, causing the boy to squirm.

"But I haven't seen Baba in forever and when I saw him, he looked really scary?" Yanqing exclaimed.

"Scary?" Dan Feng inquired

"Mhm, he looked like a zombie! Like those monsters in that movie you watched!"

"I see. Do you miss Baba?" JIng Yuan asked.

"Yes! Baba hasn't played with me in a long time." Yanqing said leaning into his father's hold as he observed the High Elder exchange a look with the General.

Dan Feng reached patted Yanqing on the head. "Why don't you go to the kitchen for a snack? A-die and I will get you Baba to play with you, okay?"

"Really?" Yanqing beamed.

"Really, now run along." Yanqing hopped off his father's lap and raced to the kitchen.

Yingxing was fast asleep when a heavy weight landed on his chest. He quickly shot up to see Dan Feng peering over him, his eyes cloudy with annoyance and a bit of anger. Jing Yuan stood next to him, an amused smile present on his face as always.

"What was that for?" Yingxing exclaimed.

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you. You know exactly what it was for!" The tail swished back and forth, threatening an even harder hit if he asked another stupid question. Though it seemed that sleep and lack of care was making Yinxing's brain run extra slow today.

"You're doing it again." Jing Yuan jumped in, saving him from another whack. "No eating, drinking, and barely any sleeping. Yanqing hasn't seen you in over a week."

Yingxing's slowly connected the dots.

Yanqing...Yanqing...

"Oh! Is he still waiting outside? How long has it been?" Yinxing pulling out his phone to check the time.

"No, we told him to go to the kitchen for snacks. You should join him for some, and maybe for a nap as well. He misses you."

Yingxing rubbed his eyes and slowly collected himself, exhaustion still very present. "Yeah, I'll definitely need a nap after."

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!!

I hope you like it and feel free to send more and send any questions you have regarding the AU.

[fairuzfan]

Zionist concern anon again. Thank you for saying I'm not a zionist. It's been a concern for a while, since a while back i saw people calling two-state solution supporters zionists and at the time i wasn't fully in support of a two-state solution but also I wasn't comfortable with "lets get rid of Isreal completely". I thought that the two-state solution was what we were supposed to have in the early days after October 7 because thats what I saw other people who were against the genocide say. So ever since I've been scared to say I'm pro-palestine in case I wasn't actually truly pro-palestine even though I want to be pro-palestine. I just don't feel confident enough in my political knowledge in general much less this specific issue to have a stance on what to do about the land, even though I have learned since I first saw people calling two-state solution zionist how much land has actually been stolen (I knew Isreal had stolen at least some land but I hadn't been certain how much) and before that have been horrified by the genocide and wanting at the very least a ceasefire and for no more land to be stolen. I feel thrown headfirst into all this and while this genocide is not at all about me as a white person living in a different country I'd be lying if I said I wasn't really struggling with the stress of having all the right stances (as I said, I have very debilitating mental health issues that cause moral issues to be really hard for me to navigate with all the fear of needing to be perfectly moral). I'm aware thats very privileged and self-centered of me to say, but its honestly how I feel. I definitely need to get it together and figure out where I need to stand though, its bad enough its taken this long and I do not want to be complicit in a genocide any longer than I have been. Thats probably about as much as I can say before I make this way too much about me me me, if I haven't overstepped as is. You being understanding and kind in your answers is very much appreciated, but it is on me from now on to pull it together already

yeah, and again, my askbox for questions is always open.

some people (including myself) dont like two state solutions because it implies that 1) israel has a right to exist which it doesn't and 2) it just doesnt make sense logically and historically, because theres no way the state of israel would ever allow that and settlers would ever be ok with that.

i have seen people who say "im for a free palestine" and still advocate for israel to exist which is like not what free palestine is as a concept lol for the most part.

but yeah, i can understand wanting to have the stance that doesn't harm the oppressed. my general advice is to just listen to what they have to say and study for yourself independently so that you can understand exactly what they're saying.

[ladysternchen]

Alright. Now, this is gonna be long. And passionate. And the second rant I've written in an unusually short time. But today, I just about reached breaking-point.

Why the hell does the Silm-fadom do to Elu Thingol what it does to Elu Thingol. To be fair, it's not solely him, Elwing gets it far worse (what for????), but that's a post of its own. No, honestly. What the fuck is going on in the minds of people who demonise one character so much while totally glossing over EVERY character fault of others?

Now, don't get me wrong, as much as he is my favourite character in all I ever read or watched in my life, I know full well that Elu's no saint. He makes terrible mistakes, and he behaves at times in ways that make me want to forget that he's my fave. I also admit to reading/interpreting him a little differently from most people in the fandom (you know, being autistic sometimes comes with having a different view on people's motives and behaviours), but my opinions and headcanons are still canon-based. That's kind of the beauty of the Silmarillion with its very shallow character-descriptions, that it allows for various interpretations. That some are more apologetic than others is a result of that, and what in truth makes this fandom so very interesting. So being critical towards him is not at all what I am ranting about here.

But there is a difference between being critical and demonising.

I read a fic today that honestly shocked me to the core. And just in case author should come across this post and recognise their work in this text, please know that I am in no way criticising your story- on the contrary, it was a very good read, I found Elu as the narrating character to be hugely in character and perhaps in other circumstances, I would have quite liked it. I would have written that to you directly on AO3, but I know that critical comments are usually not well-received, and I also really didn't want to pester you about it. After all, it's don't like don't read. So to cut this short, my problem lies NOT with the fic, but with the reactions to it. And it really only was the final straw.

AND, had it been intended as a parody on fanon regarding Elu Thingol , it would have been spot-on as spot-on can be. It was basically saying that each and every thing that went wrong in FA was Elu Thingol's fault. The second and third kinslaying his fault, the deaths amongst the Noldor his fault and so on. And he drew the appropriate conclusions at the end. For which he was called a coward in the comments. And the thing is, that story is fanon on him in a nutshell. The Noldor are always depicted as the victims. And while I'm totally fine with that, be the fuck as apologetic to all characters, fandom.

Like, I'm totally fine with excusing the actions of the Noldor by mental health or just mistakes made or curiosity or hot-temper or a specific view on things. Yeah, great. Compassion is such an important element in all Tolkien's works that I am always in favour of displaying it also in the fandoms concerning his legendarium. But you can't just do it on one people. You can't depict Maedhros as the tragic hero while at the same time condemning Elu Thingol for naming the Silmaril in a flash of impulsivity, when he was telling Beren to begone. Yes, that was idiotic, yes, he was in the wrong there, yes, what happened after was totally a result of that mistake. But still I daresay that he was punished for that in the most terrible way possible, which was the death, the ultimate death, of his only child.

You cannot pass over the Noldor invading Elu's lands and then claim that the ban on Quenya -a language that had by then already been replaced with Sindarin in mixed settlements because Sindarin was easier for the Noldor to learn than Quenya was to the Sindar and Nandor- is cultural genocide.

you can't claim that the kinslayings were caused by Elu and Dior and Elwing's refusal to hand over the Silmaril, that they positively forced the Fëanorians' hands, and at the same be very understanding about the dwarves murdering Elu (yeah, he insulted them, is was an absolute arsehole there, but that still is no excuse for murder)

You can't go saying how the Oath drove the sons of Fëanor to all their actions and then be convinced that what made the Silmaril such a trap for Elu to be nothing but greed.

And just so I make my point completely clear, I am all for being apologetic. About Fëanor and his sons, about Eöl, about the smiths of Nogrod, be apologetic about Sauron and Morgoth even if you can find that in canon for yourself, or if you just happen to feel those characters. Be open and curious about the apologies other people have for their favourite characters. But apply those rules to ALL characters.

Honestly, please stop. Please, if you want to hate Elu, to which of course everyone is entitled, hate him for what he canonically does. Don't make up stories about him just to make him look worse. You know, you can love your faves without having to demonise others.

And please, if you need to vent your feelings about Elu Thingol... tag it as such. It's so so so annoying to try and find content about your character and then get nothing but bashing or the same half-truth repeated again and again and again without further evaluation.

(Even better, stop hating all around. Yeah, it's just fictional characters. But you know, courtesy to the internet, real people look a whole lot like fictional characters. Judging, demonising, bashing, scapegoating, that all works on real people (or peoples!) just like it works on fictional characters. And the trouble is, real people might react in real life just as Elu reacted in the aforementioned fanfic and take their own life. Only that in real humans, dead is dead.)

[kayla-crazy-stuffs]

These aren't the best moments in his life (Surfer Dream pt 5)

I'm finally posting a fic again woooo :D

hero you go with a new part for surfer Dream au :)

Enjoy :]

TW: Safe/soft vore, unaware prey, fearplay, injury (mentioned)

It's been about 6 months since Dream went into a coma. Karl visited him three or four times a week, since he missed him very much and was very worried about him.

One of those days, Dream finally woke up from his coma, which pleased Karl and clearly Sapnap and Quackity. They were really relieved that he was able to wake up from the coma.

Due to health and safety reasons, Dream had to be hospitalized for another two months, which was fine with Karl as he was quite concerned about his roommate's condition.

During that time, Dream slowly began to be able to speak normally. It took him quite a while to do so, but with the effort, he was able to speak again without stuttering. In the end, he was allowed to leave the hospital, back home with Karl.

//

Dream walked out the door, heading towards the port. “Dream! Where are you going??" Karl asked as he quickly approached his friend. Dream let out a long breath, looking at him with a pout.

"Come on... I'm just going for a walk, you don't have to worry so much about me..." "Dream... You've been in a coma for six months, almost seven, plus two months of rehabilitation" He replied seriously while crossing his arms.

Dream let out another slightly annoyed sigh. “Karl, come on, I can't be locked up all the time. I'm just going to take a walk for three hours and come back, okay? Nothing bad will happen to me…”

Karl looked at Dream for a few seconds before sighing in defeat. "Okay, but if you haven't come back in three hours, I'm going to ask Sapnap and Quackity to find you and you won't come out for two weeks."

Dream thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Okay, deal. See you in three hours." he said before turning around and continuing on his way towards the port. Once there, he got on a small boat and headed out for a few miles into the ocean.

//

An hour passed and it seemed to Dream that he had gone far enough, so he stopped the boat. Not even five minutes passed when the sea began to move a little more violently.

‘Okay, maybe I should have listened to Karl…’ Dream stumbled backwards as a wave crashed into the boat. The sea was getting even more dangerous by seconds.

Much larger waves began to appear and crash against the boat. Dream tried to hold on to something but then, an unbelievably huge wave hit the boat, causing him to slip, hit his head on the ground and knock him unconscious.

Although before falling unconscious he could kinda see something light blue and gold, his sight eventually turning completely black.

//

Punz had only thought of taking a long swim by the sea, what he did not expect was to find a small boat being hit and pushed by the waves. With a sigh he approached the surface, sticking his head above the waves, watching the boat for a moment.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning a little closer, wanting to take a closer look. His eyes widened as they took in the only person in it.

The person was unconscious, which worried him a lot since the boy could die because of the state the sea was in.

Letting out another sigh, he picked up the boy in his hands and slowly introduced him into his mouth,swallowing him slowly and gently, since he didn't want to hurt him, or at least, less than what would have happened to him before he arrived.

Once he was sure the human was in his storage, he dove back in, swimming for the nearest shoreline.

Before he could move too far, a blue shark hybrid and a killer whale hybrid stopped him off, the shark grabbing him by the neck. “Where the fuck is Dream?! What the hell have you done to him!?” he said in a furious voice, baring his sharp teeth at her in a snarl.

Punz got nervous, who was Dream? Was he talking about the human he had found a few seconds ago? The shark grew impatient at his lack of response, tightening its grip on his neck a little more.

"Well?! Are you going to answer me!?" The other mer stepped in, trying to calm him down. "Sapnap please, calm down, you won't get anything like this..." Sapnap looked at his partner for a moment before letting out a sigh and letting go of Punz's neck. "Okay... Now, talk"

Punz looked at him a little bit nervous. “Uh.. That Dream.., has dirty blond hair and is wearing a green shirt...? Uh, if it's him... I found him unconscious so I decided to store him to keep him safe...”

Sapnap sighed at that. "Okay... I can tell you're not lying, but I don't trust you, understand?" he told him in a serious tone.

Punz nodded, flinching as a hand landed on his shoulder. “Calm down kid, he's just a little upset, it's alright, okay? Spend some time with us and you will see that he gets used to you.” Punz nodded again. "And what about you..?"

The orca gave a small giggle. "Me? don't worry about me, I do trust you, usually whale shark hybrids are really honest, besides you looked too nervous to lie, I think you're not good at that." "I guess..." The orca pulled him a little closer while drawing Sapnap's attention.

“Why don't we talk a bit on the way and get to know each other a bit?” He commented looking at both of them. Sapnap just shrugged, not really caring for the idea.

"Okay then, my name is Quackity and this is my fiancé, Sapnap." He says pointing at the shark. “My name is Punz…”

[thepro-lifemovement]

Pro-abortion activists fight for abortion throughout pregnancy for any reason—no exceptions. Their fundamental argument centers on women’s health.

But stunning research shows this concern is all smoke and mirrors.

Pro-abortion activists have long tried to claim that abortion is safer than childbirth. For years they’ve touted manipulated numbers, trying in vain to bolster this myth. We’ve always known those statistics were bogus, and a study by Dr. Priscilla Coleman and Dr. David Reardon reveals abortion is much more dangerous to women than giving birth. And the results are sadly even more devastating to women’s health than even I had anticipated.

First, let me vouch for the authors of this research. I know them both to be solid individuals with a reputation for thoroughness. I met Dr. Coleman in Santiago, Chile where we lectured at their largest university. We again shared an academic podium in Quito, Ecuador the following year.

Second, allow me to explain why this study is so important. It’s compelling because of its unmatched scope:

The study includes a large number of women—nearly one-half-million—experiencing first-time pregnancies.

The medical records are profoundly reliable because the data was compiled from Danish government sources including fertility records of births and stillbirths, the national abortion registry and cause of death registry.

The study covers an extensive ten-year time period, providing comprehensive long-term data.

It analyzes both early and late-term abortion compared to childbirth.

In other words, this isn’t a biased study with a relatively small sample size produced to cater to pro-abortion activists—or any side for that matter. This research was conducted at the national level, over the course of a decade, providing substantial credibility, a comprehensive level of detail, as well as earning publication in respected medical journals. The reliability has been substantiated, which is why the results are even more troubling.

When it comes to which is safer—abortion or childbirth—the results speak loudly and clearly:

During the first six months after an early abortion (12 weeks or less), a woman has double the risk of death compared to giving birth.

During the first year following a late abortion (after 12 weeks) a woman has over three times the risk of death compared to giving birth.

Here’s a link to the entire study if you’d like to read it.

Pro-abortion activists prey on the fear of Americans by perpetuating the myth that if Roe v. Wade is reversed, women will suffer horrific back-alley abortions and tragic deaths. The reality is that under legalized abortion, women are being killed on a much larger scale.

Remember when we heard the news that Planned Parenthood is responsible for 24-year-old Tonya Reaves’ death following a botched abortion. Reports showed that a devastating five-and-a-half hours passed between the time of her abortion and her transport to a local hospital.

There’s no record that a 911 call was placed by Planned Parenthood. The autopsy report indicated that her injuries were survivable if she had received proper emergency care in a timely manner. The only difference between her death and a back-alley abortion death is that Ms. Reaves’ abortion was sanctioned by the US Supreme Court, giving her a false sense of security that the procedure was safe.

Now Tonya’s one-year-old son will grow up without a mother. Sadly, there have been additional victims after Tonya’s death. And don’t forget the Gosnell “house of horrors.”

Planned Parenthood and other abortion facilities continue to lure young women under the false premise that they perform “women’s healthcare services.” Abortion isn’t healthcare. It’s killing. In fact, they’re an industry of death—killing unborn babies and exposing their mothers to a staggering increased risk of death. Let’s not let this grave injustice continue. Share this with those you know and take a stand.

You now have compelling proof that abortion is not safer than childbirth

[whitehotharlots]

If you believe in nothing, you will achieve nothing

Andrea Long Chu has a problem. She and her acolytes presently enjoy dictatorial control over every discourse that falls to the left of Fox News. They have convinced the world that speech is inherently violent and therefore a dedication to free speech is a precondition of fascism, if not outright genocide. Every decent person must agree with every thing they say, no matter how deranged or implausible. And so if a random person, for example, says that sexual dimorphism exists or that maybe cosmetic hysterectomies shouldn't be the first response to teenage mental health issues, that person has committed a severe act of violence and must be silenced.

But, oh no, it turns out that Chu and her cohort have found themselves outgunned on the topic of Israel-Palestine. The same left that has gleefully silenced all improper discussions of culture war issues for the last decade is now seeing their exact same tactics being used to silence any criticism of Israel's ongoing genocide. You can't even do something as anodyne as expressing support for a ceasefire without making a Jewish Yale student feel unsafe, and since speech is violence and feeling unsafe is even more of a genocide than an actual genocide I'm sorry, you were bad and unvalid and you must silenced. Them's the rules.

Chu attempts to reconcile these two, very sad realities in a recent piece for New York Magazine titled "The Free Speech Debate is a Trap." The essay is staggeringly moronic, even by Chu's august standards. I had to read it twice just to make sure I wasn't understanding it unfairly.

My readers seem like decent people. I find no joy in subjecting them to crap like this. But a deep dive into Chu's essay is necessary because it confirms the value of free speech on two fronts: 1) it shows why nothing short of a doctrinaire support of the first amendment can allow for the dissemination of opinions that dissent against the consensus of the permanent war state, and, 2) it demonstrates how an opposition to free speech leads to the proliferation of braindead analysis among supposed leftists.

Let us begin:

As is her wont, Chu writes in an obfuscatory style. She belabors simple points to weaken the reader's attention, so that when she sneaks in observations that are insane or otherwise very stupid we're less likely to notice.

She starts with a description of herself, another writer, and the whole staff of a poetry center being deplatformed for expressing their support of the Palestinian cause. This is, obviously, an injustice. But rather than taking the fascist's way out and deciding that maybe this free speech thing is actually worth pursuing, Chu explains that the incident actually strengthened her resolve against the free and protected exchange of ideas. Because, naturally, anything else would render her a hypocrite, and then she wouldn't be able to silence people for dissenting against gender bullshit:

Now it’s true: A left that supports the deplatforming of transphobes but opposes the deplatforming of anti-Zionists cannot justify itself by appealing to free speech — nor should it. For the liberal, freedom of speech is a deliberately empty principle. It allows a liberal institution to mediate peacefully between differing political views without any (apparent) reference to the content of those views — all while quietly promoting its own views under the banner of neutrality. The left can do better. 

Now, here it's very important to note the degree to which the concept of transphobia has been expanded in recent years, thanks in no small part to the work of Chu and her allies in media and academe. The concept once meant something like "a hatred of trans and/or gender non-conforming people," which is bad. But now it's expanded to include things like recognizing that males and females have different athletic abilities, expressing concern with the thought of male sex offenders being housed in women's prisons, the refusal of female service workers to perform intimate procedures on natal males, or even simply using words like "male" and "female." This type of extreme narrative control simply could not persist in a discourse that wasn't very broken, or among people who did not regard the aggressive policing of speech as a paramount ideal. Like the rest of the identitarians who now control what passes for the American Left, Chu is very unabashedly pro-censorship.

Strip down the blandishments and you'll find her point is simple: free speech is bad, because it allows people to say things that may discredit her. Only instead of admitting to being discredited, she shall claim that speech itself in an act of violence, because after all if she's discredited that means violence has been inflicted upon her. Herself and other people who believe everything she believes should be anointed the gatekeepers of what does or does not constitute acceptable speech. Those who break from their dictates must be shunted from the public sphere and suffer professional consequences.

The type of nihilism endorsed by Chu is only advantageous to those whose beliefs benefit the empowered. And, at the end of the day, the people who run most every left-liberal institution (including the Democratic party) are resolutely in favor of Israel's genocide. Some of them take genuine pleasure in watching Palestinians die; others were taped fucking children on a sex island and cannot upset their blackmailers; and the bulk of them are mortified by the prospect of being labeled some kind of -ist or -phobe, as they know full well--thanks, again, to the efforts of Chu and her cohort--that they would not be able to proffer any defense against such accusations, regardless of how stupid they may be.

There is no way to reconcile this situation within the boundaries set by left identitiarisn. None. You can either support free speech as an abstract principle and allow unpopular and inconvenient speech to proliferate without punishment, or you can endorse a society where the acceptability of speech is determined by the desires of the warmongering sociopaths who run the world. It's one or the other. There are no other options.

I don't think anything I've written so far is especially complicated, or even controversial. These are the sort of observations I would have easily grasped in middle school. But, oh, here's where the obfuscation sets in, where Chu demonstrates her Pulitzer Prize-winning skill of making reactionary bullshit sound left-ish.

She starts with the well-worn trope of arguing that today's speech debates aren't really about free speech because the first amendment only applies to, like, the government:

It is worth remembering the vast majority of what we call free-speech issues have little basis in the First Amendment, which only forbids the abridgment of speech by the government, not private organizations like magazines, cultural centers, or Hollywood production companies. In most states, for instance, it is perfectly legal for employers to fire workers for speech, as a Westchester synagogue did last year after a teacher wrote an anti-Zionist blog post. So when advocates talk of freedom of speech, they are usually referring neither to the Constitution nor to statutory law but to a set of civil norms imagined to promote the health of the republic but which cannot be directly enforced by the government. 

As a matter of simple fact, this is wrong. At least 32 of our 50 states require potential government employees to sign some sort of loyalty oath to Israel before they are allowed to receive state jobs. Compelled speech in support of zionist genocide--or, at least, the promise to never criticize said genocide--is enforced by the government. This is very literally a first amendment issue.

But, I will concede, the support of free speech largely redounds to a set of civil norms--the same as how we don't go around slashing other people's tires or puking in our neighbor's mailboxes not strictly because it's illegal to do so, but out of a sense of shared civic duty. Even if we can't articulate exactly why, we just sense that it would be bad to abandon our principles to a degree where we did or tolerated that sort of stuff.

These unspoken compacts are essential for the existence of any human society. And probably any animal society. And, shit, this probably applies to plants and bacteria, too. But the persistence of these compacts pisses off people like Chu because such compacts can, at times, present a threat to their capacity as the sovereign overseers of what is or is not acceptable. If judgments were deferred to science or empiricism or any other existing form of adjudicating correctness and decency, all of a sudden Chu wouldn't be a very smart intellectual, and we cannot have that.

Chu's... her... discussion of this? I hate to call it a "response," because an actual response would require some degree of honesty. But, uhh, the way she addresses this is to point out that free speech is actually, like, just a fiction, mannnnn...

While it is true that left-wing ideas have flourished in the humanities and, to a lesser extent, the social sciences — the result of the retreat of post-1968 social movements into the academy — the big private universities remain in the business of business, their endowments tied up in fossil fuels, big tech, and the prison-industrial complex and their purses fattened by wealthy donors who expect influence in return. After a letter was released at Harvard that blamed “all unfolding violence” on the Israeli government, the billionaire hedge-fund manager Bill Ackman, apparently speaking for his fellow CEOs, demanded that the school publish the rosters of the student groups who had signed the letter “so as to insure [sic] that none of us inadvertently hire any of their members.” The implicit understanding here was that elite private universities funnel their graduates into the nation’s highest positions of power and influence — including Congress itself — and that this pipeline must not be polluted by ideas that its previous beneficiaries find morally despicable or politically disadvantageous. The House hearing itself came chillingly close to a direct attempt by the federal government to materially intervene in the composition of the incipient professional class through, as more than one Republican suggested, the expulsion of student protesters.

Yes, indeed, speech has always been limited by the sovereign. Go back and read Locke and Bacon, see how much they hem and haw about their love of the Queen. Point to any of the hundreds or thousands of socialists who found themselves jailed in these United States for criticizing our involvement in the first World War. That's all true. But none of these facts negate the value and utility of free speech as an ideal.

If you have no principles, if your only goal is a naked quest for power, you will eventually encounter someone more empowered whose desires run counter to your own. Then you will fail, as you will have no recourse to do anything but fail. Without ideals, there is no path forward. Without decency, there is no hope. If the battle over the continuation of a genocide redounds to nothing less vulgar than two sides claiming righteousness by din of their own existence, the side that owns all the guns and media organizations is going to win.

But there's no room for such realizations within today's left, of whom Chu is a very sad but fitting embodiment. She is immensely successful not because of talent or intelligence or decency but because she manifests the perfect set of identity markers. If she were not physically hideous and/or a manipulative sociopath, she'd be a nobody. She thrives within our broken discourse only because her enablers fear her, and that fear is born of nothing more than pity. She cannot afford the existence of principles, as that would threaten her exalted status. And she is demanding that all the rest of us abandon every last sliver of hope to make sure she and friends remain in charge.