#because no human should be called illegal

[thehappyvet]

Just a reminder if you decide to illegally take a wild animal from the wild for yourself, even if you have the best interests at heart, you could be killing it.

If you feed it the wrong diet you can cause it's bones to break or other diseases associated with mineral imbalances. If you feed it too much you could cause issues associated with obesity including excessive fat stores.

If you aren't a trained wildlife rehabilitator you won't understand the importance of preventing imprinting or humanising. So you'll cuddle it, play with it, and let your pets play with it. So it will think it can only get food from humans, and that humans and domestic pets are part of its family.

If you take it while it's still young it won't learn the necessary foraging and social skills from its parents to survive in the wild. You might joke you don't even need a cage for it, but it isn't able to go anywhere because you've made it dependant on you.

If you aren't a wildlife carer or in the animal health industry you might not realise it's injured and needs treatment. This could lead to broken bones setting in ways that the animal can't perform normal functions and suffering from a life of chronic pain. Or it could lead to it suffering a slow and agonising death.

You might also not be aware that wildlife can contain diseases that can make you sick or even kill you. You could put yourself and your loved ones at risk of serious zoonotic diseases by bringing it home.

And, if you are found to be illegally holding a wild animal without the intention of rehabilitating and releasing it, the authorities are stuck. They can't release the animal because it thinks humans and domestic pets are friends. It can't forage for itself. It can't socialise with its own kind. It could have injuries or diet associated diseases that mean it can't perform normal functions, or is suffering from chronic pain. If they released it, it would die.

Is it fair for that animal that your choices have led to it not being able to experience its life in the wild as it should?

If you take something from the wild and intend to keep it, I hope this makes you think twice.

These kinds of stories are all over social media now, but none of them tell this side. They normalise putting a wild animal though an incredibly stressful experience purely for likes and engagement.

If you want to be a hero, get accredited to be a wildlife rehabilitator. Join an amazing network of compassionate humans just like you who understand that wild things should be wild, and do everything they can to get them back there.

If you find a wild animal and you're not sure what to do, call your local veterinary clinic or wildlife rehabilitation group. Trust that we have the knowledge to make the best choices for that animal. And if you want to make those choices, join us.

[naamahdarling]

The pharmacy got some of my ADHD meds in!

After weeks!

I took ONE full dose and 20 minutes later was uncontrollably yawning and had to take a nap.

Stimulant meds are the first line, most effective treatment for ADHD, being remarkably effective in 70-75% of people with ADHD.

People with ADHD do not get high from their stimulant meds.

Becoming relaxed after taking them for the first time or after a long time off them is a sign that they are working and is an indicator that we DO have ADHD, though most doctors don't seem to know that this happens. We relax because we are closer to a normal state than we were, initially our bodies literally respond with relief.

Again. That is not what you would call even remotely a "high". Unless you are one of those awful people who believe naps are a crime.

They make our brain chemistry more normal, not less.

For those they help, we genuinely need them. Yes, both children and adults. It's fine to take them. It should not be a controversy (nor should ADHD itself be as controversial as it sadly is).

Medicating us does not lead to abuse. We are not addicts in waiting. Treating us as such is repugnant. (And treating addicts like shit is repugnant as well. People who abuse ADHD meds deserve compassion. From the ADHD community as well. They are not why we can't get meds. It's the FDA limiting how much can be oroduced and not keeping up with increased demand due to new diagnoses during COVID. It isn't other humans.)

Forcing us off medication with no support does, however, cause serious problems and can lead some people to seek them through illegal avenues, which is dangerous. Also understandable. The medical profession blames us and does not take responsibility for their part in this situation, even though they should.

We have every right to use whatever means works best for us free of censure, disapproval, and overzealous gatekeeping. If that's stimulant meds, so be it.

More respect for us please.

Especially now as we are facing rolling shortages of meds for the next few weeks or months. Your ADHD friends are struggling. Be patient.

[arabian-batboy]

So the EU just suspended all aid to Palestinians in Gaza, which is happening at the same time as the same time Israel is cutting all electricity, fuel and food from Gaza with the Israeli Defense (?) Minister calling them "human animals" while continuing their indiscriminately bombing campaign on Gaza due the Palestinians resistance groups currently retaliating against 17 years straight of Israel's illegal blockade and war crimes.

Apparently its okay to perform collective-punishment to 2 millions Palestinian civilians, half of whom are children, living in the world's most densely population are and biggest open-air prison, for the actions of a few hundreds armed fighters (who again, have the right to resist their occupation)

However, all Israeli settlers are innocent angels and you should never ever hold them accountable to any of the IDF's many crimes or Palestinians being ethnically cleansed from their homes, even though almost all Israelis have served in the IDF and all of them are literally living in stolen Palestinian homes, so statically speaking, the average Israeli settler has more blood on their hand than the average Palestinian by a large margin.

Matter of fact, Western countries should continue giving them their full unconditional support as well as more billions of dollars for free and complete impunity to continue committing even more war crimes in "self-defense," because no Israeli should be held accountable for the crime of any Israeli and while all of this is happening, you will of course continue having the bothsideism crowd crying about how "all killing is bad!" while completely ignoring how the killing is severely disproportional and that the side doing most of the killing is the occupier side with one of the strongest nuclear-power army in the world, who have the entire world on their side with absolutely no consequences whatsoever to their crimes.

So no, not all killing is bad, that's not the reality we're living in, because if "all killing is bad!" then the systematic-killing of so many occupied Palestinian civilians wouldn't be so encouraged/justified while the death of some Israeli occupiers-settlers in retaliation wouldn't be treated as the world's biggest crime against humanity.

-

Palestinians made a document that contains templates for letters to US, UK, & Canadian politicians, media outlets, and companies in relation to current events in Palestine as well as petitions & other resources. If you live in any of these countries then please select a template, edit it to your preference and send according to the instructions on the relevant page.

Here is a link to it (please share it): https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-RUOHHiEtr7uoclQgWN-tCWOihnHIp5hym89aNePi_E/mobilebasic

Aside from that, please protest, support the BDS boycott and spread awareness as much as possible.

[ckret2]

Chapter 53 of human Bill Cipher not properly appreciating the fact that Mabel is his only friend on Earth:

Mabel has read a book about Bill's home dimension and is prepared to interrogate him all about where he comes from.

Bill is willing to do anything to avoid being interrogated.

(Featuring SEVEN illustrations, provided by 🌈 MABEL 💖)

####

Flatworld, from what Mabel had read, was probably literally the worst place to ever exist. 

The book was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.

Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.

There was a lot of mathy stuff in the book about a square meeting a magical sphere and going on educational adventures to the higher and lower dimensions; but most of it passed by her in a blur. When she'd finished reading last night, Mabel had lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about dead baby shapes and fighting the urge to wake Bill up just so she could hug him; until she'd finally drifted off and woken up in her own bed.

At least, thank goodness, the bit about banning colors so lower shapes couldn't contour themselves to look like higher shapes was false. But she was sure that at least part of the story was true. And it had happened to somebody she knew. It was a lot to process.

So she processed it the way she usually did the stories that weighed on her: by creating a self-insert and pulling out her art supplies.

####

"You're drawing fan art of Flatworld?" Bill asked warily.

"I wouldn't call it fan art. I'd say it's more of a... thoughtful artistic critique. I don't think I'm a 'fan' of the second dimension," Mabel said. "No offense."

"Sure."

Mabel had designed a shapesona of herself: a pink heart with a rainbow-colored outline, a big sparkly eye, and skinny black stick limbs like Bill's. If, as Bill had said, colors weren't illegal, she didn't see any reason she couldn't be rainbow. The heart shape was maybe unconventional, but Bill hadn't said she couldn't be a heart yet, so she was sticking with it for now.

She'd honestly expected Bill to come over and interrogate her about her creation long before now. Usually, when she was doing art and he was unoccupied, he was hovering right by her, examining her work and dropping hints—some more subtle than others—that she should draw him next. But she hadn't immediately noticed when he'd silently drifted into the room, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there before speaking up. He was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, watching askance from halfway across the living room as Mabel worked with her crayons, as if she were playing with a chemistry set and he was trying to figure out if she was building a bomb.

"Is Flatworld really about your world?" Mabel asked. "Did you tell Edward Bishop Bishop all that stuff? With the circles and all the laws about shapes and stuff?"

Bill mulled over the question, staring into space. Mabel had never seen his face look so inexpressive before—at least, not since his first night as a captive, after he'd gotten all the screaming out and had looked too exhausted to feel. "We talked," he conceded. "I'm surprised you got your hands on it. I suppose Stanford brought it up."

Something in the back of her mind pricked up defensively—what was that supposed to mean, he was surprised she got her hands on it?—but she pushed it back down. "Yeah, he told me and Dipper about it when you guys got home yesterday," Mabel said. "But you brought it up to me first!"

"No I didn't. When?"

"A few weeks ago? You mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop."

"I don't remember that," Bill muttered. "I probably didn't think you'd make sense of it."

"Hey!"

"You didn't make sense of it! Ford had to tell you about it."

"Yeah, but—mean!" She shoved aside her drawing and started on another one, grumbling, "I could've made sense of it if I'd looked it up."

What was up with Bill today? He wasn't usually this much of a jerk. To her. Lately. Plus, she thought they'd really had a moment yesterday! But Bill had had a rough couple days. Maybe he was just tired and cranky. 

A wiser person might just leave well enough alone. But a wiser person wasn't exploding in their brain with curiosity about just how bad Bill's life had really been. There was something itching at the back of her head, had been itching since she'd woken up—something about Bill, something important, she was sure of it—but she couldn't quite put together what it was. She just needed to talk to Bill long enough to figure it out.

"So..." She glanced up from filling in a shape yellow, "were lines really executed if they didn't make noises all the time so everyone always knew where they were and they couldn't sneak up and stab anyone?"

Bill scoffed, rolling his eyes, as if the very idea was stupid. "It wasn't that extreme. Making a peace cry is like a human saying 'coming through' when they're trying to squeeze past somebody. Lines are just taught to do it in public because it's easier not to see a line, that's all."

"If they didn't, were they executed...?"

"No. They were just rude."

That was a relief. Mabel had been worried for her fellow ladies. She was plenty noisy, but she didn't think she could remember to make constant sound any time she was around other people. She turned back to coloring her newest drawing, but watched Bill out of the corner of her eye. "Is it true that rich people killed almost all of their babies by giving them surgery to break their sides?"

The corner of Bill's mouth curled in a sneer. "Do I look like a pediatric surgeon?"

"Um." Not a welcome question. She tried to backtrack to something softer. "So, in the second dimension, the outside of your body is just your outline and your guts are everything inside the outline, right?"

He gave her a wary look. "Yeah."

"So your bow tie is basically in your stomach."

Bill sucked in a deep breath; but quickly caved in to the need to be the most correct person in the room. "More like around my esophagus, but. Sure."

"So, where did you wear it when you were back in the second dimension? Was it on your side? Did you have to wear two so people could see them from both sides—"

"I didn't need a bow tie then."

Mabel stared at him. "What do you mean, you didn't 'need' it? What do you need it for now?"

Bill ignored the question. "You know, I didn't think Flatworld was an interesting enough book to deserve this much attention! Especially not from you. You like fun stories." It felt oddly like he was criticizing her for having read it.

"Well—yeah, but it's about your home! That makes it fun!"

Bill raised his brows.

"Right? Doesn't it?"

"Kid." Bill laughed condescendingly. "Don't give me that. You read an entire book. In the summer. About math. With a downer ending where the narrator goes insane and gets locked up. That's some people's idea of a fun time, but I know it's not yours."

Maybe "fun" was the wrong word—but it was still important. She was glad she'd read it. She'd cared about it. She'd cared enough to know Bill was describing it wrong. "That's not what happened. The square got locked up because he kept telling everybody the third dimension's real."

"Like I said! He went insane!"

"But he's not insane. Everyone says he is, but he's right about the third dimension! It's everyone else who's stupid!"

"So what," Bill said. "The things he knows mean he'll never be able to see the world the way other shapes do, and no matter what he does he'll never be happy with his home. If that's not insanity, what is?"

Last year, she'd heard Bill agree when Gideon called him insane. She'd always wondered. "Is that why you're insane?"

Bill shot Mabel a furious look. That was the wrong thing to say. "Shooting Star—"

(Oh no, she thought, he's using my full name.)

"—what's with the third degree." Bill crossed the room to lean on the other side of the table. He gave her the guarded glare of a guilty suspect facing down a cop in an interrogation room—and trying to figure out whether he could kill the cop before he was stopped. "What do you think you're trying to dig up?"

"I'm not trying to 'dig up' anything," Mabel said. "I just want to learn more about you!"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you do! Who doesn't wanna know all about me! And right after I trusted you yesterday! Do you think you're the first person to start digging into my history? 'Hey, does anyone know what made Bill Cipher so crazy'?" Bill laughed bitterly. " You're not even the first Pines to try it. Not even the second."

"That's not what I'm trying to do!" said Mabel, right before it dawned on her that that was exactly what she was trying to do.

"Right. I'm sure whatever you learn will make a nice two-page spread in Journal 5. Another secret you and Fordsy can add to your Mysteries, huh? Think he'll draw the dead babies?"

She thought back to Portland—to asking Ford what had made Bill so awful. I think if anyone’s ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Mabel shook her head. No. She didn't want to be that. "I'm not Grunkle Ford's spy, I'm your friend. I just—I just want to understand you—"

"Yeah, and the 'friends' who understand you are the most dangerous kind." Bill laughed harshly. "Your uncle and brother couldn't figure me out! And Sixer's been trying for years! So what makes you think YOU can?"

He was calling her stupid. He'd been calling her stupid all day. That was why he was so surprised she'd read the book.

"You—shut up!" She wadded up her latest drawing and flung it in Bill's face. (He snatched out of midair.) "All I did was read a book I thought was important to you, you jerk! I thought you'd like that!"

She hadn't meant for that waver to enter her voice. But she was exhausted from too little sleep and worrying about dead baby shapes and worrying about Bill's fear of death and worrying about what Ford had said about not giving Bill a second chance, and now Bill was being a jerk, and maybe he was just exhausted and upset too, but he was treating her like she was stupid—and there was that pathetic little waver.

But it made Bill pause in his onslaught; for a moment, he averted his gaze. Still, he said, "Maybe if you'd thought to ask—"

"You were asleep! I was being nice! And letting you sleep! In my bed!"

"But—"

"Just go away!" She pointed at the doorway.

Bill's face hardened again. "Fine!" He flung his hands in the air and stomped from the room. "Who wants to hang out with you when you're in such a bad mood, anyway."

Mabel glared at her stupid drawings so she didn't have to watch Bill's stupid back as he left.

Why had she bothered?

When Bill was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair, pulled her sweater over her face, crossed her arms on the table, and buried her head in them.

####

Bill didn't think to smooth out the paper Mabel had flung at him until he was out of the room.

On one side she'd drawn Bill—properly triangular—with an expression that he thought was supposed to be fear and on the other side several angry-looking shapes, pentagons and hexagons, colored gray and black, being led by a pale figure shaped like a human skull and wielding a scythe; and between them, a bright pink heart, standing in front of Bill protectively, hands on its "hips," glaring down the would-be assailants.

The corners of Bill's mouth sagged down.

####

The bell rang and the shapes began filing out of class, muttering to each other about how they thought they'd done on the test. As the triangle cheerfully left the room, the teacher caught him by the arm again to pull him over. "Just a minute," she said. "I want a word with you."

Oh, he bet she did. Breezily, he said, "Sure thing! What is it?"

"Who was the first triangular president?"

"Wh— Th—" He spluttered indignantly. "There's been like—seven of them."

"Nine. And I'm only asking about the first one."

"How should I know!"

"You knew an hour ago."

He sputtered again. "That was— That was a multiple choice test! And it was an hour closer to when I'd studied! And I can focus better in the classroom! You can't expect me to remember anything in the hallway. You're using intimidation tactics. How could anyone focus under these conditions—"

"I don't know what you're doing," the teacher said, "or how you're doing it. Maybe I never will. But..." She sighed, and the anger seemed to leak out of her, and that only made him more nervous. "But whatever you're doing—you won't be able to do it forever. What will you do when you're out in the real world and you didn't learn anything in school?"

Her pity was worse than being hated had been. At least when he was hated, he knew she only looked down on him because she had something against him. What did he do with pity? With concerned warnings about the "real world"? He'd never heard anybody use the phrase "the real world" as anything but a threat. He hoped he was never out in the real world.

"Who cares! I'll never need any of this!" He should have shut up there. He didn't: "You're just jealous that me and my family make a million times more lying to everyone than you'll ever get trying to teach them the truth!"

His teacher gasped in shock; but before she could say anything, he was halfway down the hall with no intention of slowing down.

The next day, he stayed home, and his mom visited the principal. The day after that, he had a new teacher.

####

He was stupid. He knew that. He didn't know when he'd gotten stupid—if it was because he'd started touring so much and missing classes, or if he'd always been dumb and just didn't notice it before he registered just how often he was using his all-seeing eye to pick up answers that other kids couldn't see. It had crept up on him. But there it was. He was stupid, and he was too stupid to figure out what to do about it.

There was a big difference between being able to see everything, and actually knowing anything. And he might be all-seeing, but an idiot like him would never be all-knowing.

####

A trillion years later, he still didn't remember the name of the first triangular president. And look how far he'd gotten without it.

Lunch was toast and peanut butter. The toaster was the only source of heat he could use without having to ask his captors for access; and peanut butter and bread were the most nutritious foods he could reach without asking his captors to open a cabinet or fridge. He was sick of toast and peanut butter.

He wasn't about to ask Mabel to help him get lunch.

Well. He'd succeeded. He'd known just the right thing to say to get Mabel to lay off and drop the topic. Did he feel accomplished?

He stared out the window as he ate—there were hazy gray clouds on the horizon, beyond the trees, slowly inching closer—and he tried not to look at the picture Mabel had flung at him.

####

Mabel felt dumb about being upset that Bill thought she was dumb.

Because of course he did. Sure, he liked her art and he liked dance music and games without rules; sure, he was a willing student when it came to stuff like making friendship bracelets or artistically mixing sprinkles; sure, he was a weirdo fun guy; but he was also a Smarty McSmartypants, just like Dipper or Ford. And Mabel was the Girl Dipper who brought home C's. And even a weirdo fun Smarty wouldn't want to hang out for long with someone who couldn't keep up with nerd talk. He probably just... put up with her for as long as he could stand pretending he took her seriously, but he'd finally lost his patience...

And shown his true, jerky colors again.

Maybe Ford and Dipper were right about him; maybe he couldn't really change.

Except... there was something he'd said. And right after I trusted you yesterday. When he'd cried in front of her. When he'd told her about his fear of death.

He was being a jerk because he thought she'd betrayed him. But by reading a book?! Why couldn't he ever just explain himself? Did he think whatever was bothering him was obvious, and she was stupid for not figuring it out?

Something she almost but didn't quite remember thudded like a drum inside her brain. Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dome.

From the entryway, Bill called, "Hey, star girl. I—"

He stopped in the doorway. Mabel had taped 28 pieces of paper together, drawn on a door knob, written "DOOR" at the top, and taped it across the doorway into the living room. Irritably, Bill said, "It doesn't work like that. This is obviously paper."

"Bill," Mabel grumbled. "Go away."

"No. I'm gonna say something to you."

He didn't phrase that like he was giving her a choice in the matter; but all the same, she said, "I don't wanna hear it."

"You know that horror story about a bride with a velvet ribbon tied around her neck, and her head falls off and rolls down the stairs when her husband unties it?"

She did. She and Dipper had read a book of scary stories to each other on Halloween a few years ago while waiting for it to be late enough to go trick-or-treating. In spite of herself, he'd piqued her curiosity. She reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yeah? So?"

Bill was leaning in the doorway, head tilted against the doorframe so he could see Mabel around the paper door curtain. "That's why I wear a bow tie."

Mabel blinked. "Wait—if you didn't, your head would fall off? What part of you is your head? How did it come off? Were you decapitated? Did you get decapitated for knowing about the third dimension—?"

"It doesn't keep my head on; it keeps my skin on."

Mabel's nose wrinkled. "Gross! How?"

"Remember how you said my outline is my skin and all my organs are inside the outline," Bill said. "That didn't change when we left the second dimension! We had to get exoskeletons on our top and bottom sides so solids like you can't stick you fingers in our guts. My bow tie keeps it tied in place."

"Whoa." So that was why they hadn't seen Bill's organs before. "Do you ever take it off?"

"Mostly when I'm eating!" He knocked on the doorframe. "So can I come in now?"

Of course. He'd been using information to buy his way back into her good graces. (No—that was what somebody who didn't think Bill deserved a second chance would think. He was making up for earlier by answering one of her questions about him.)

She took a deep breath, turned to face Bill, and said, "You didn't talk to me like a friend earlier."

"I—" Bill grimaced, looked at the ceiling for help, and conceded, "I mean—It's how I talk to my friends, but all right, I know you're not used to that—"

"Nobody should be used to that!" Mabel said. "What would Love Bunny say?"

"Wh—?! I— Th— You—" His voice cracked as it jumped higher, "What do I care what a cartoon rabbit thinks about—"

"What. Would. She. Say."

Bill's face screwed up in agony. He crossed his arms. "Ugh."

"Biiill?"

Eyes squeezed shut, Bill said, "She'd say my breath smells like I've been eating mean beans."

"Aaand?"

"I'm not going to say it. I won't say it."

"And you need to eat your nice rice!"

Bill let out a long, slow sigh.

"Say it!"

"This is my penance," Bill muttered toward his feet. "This is my penance. This is fair." He took a breath. "And... I need to eat my nice rice."

Mabel nodded. He'd confessed his sins.

"I think we're out of nice rice," Bill said, "but I've had the peanut butter of kindness and the toast of remorse. Good enough?"

She considered it. "Yeah. You can come in."

Bill batted aside the paper door curtain and ducked into the room. 

He sat across the table from Mabel and set down the paper she'd chucked at him amongst her others. Mabel glanced at the drawing, embarrassed of it now; but Bill didn't say anything about it.

He just propped his cheek against his hand and started looking over her other art.

Mabel sat there with her hands under her legs, watching his spotlight eyes rove over the table, feeling like she was waiting for a teacher to grade a poster she'd made for class. He saw a stop sign red octagon in sunglasses that was labeled "Bill's parole officer" and snorted. She wasn't sure if it was an amused snort or a derogatory snort. His gaze stopped on her attempt to figure out how Flatworlder anatomy worked, and didn't move farther. She'd probably gotten everything wrong, hadn't she?

She couldn't stand waiting for him to pass judgment on her art. "You think they look dumb, don't you."

Bill took a moment to reply. He didn't look up from her drawings. "I don't think you're dumb, Shooting Star."

"You think I'm dumber than Dipper and Grunkle Ford."

Bill winced. "I don't." At her dubious look, Bill amended, "Only Stanford! And that barely counts, all humans are dumber than Stanford. It doesn't mean I think you're dumb-dumb"

"Could've fooled me," Mabel muttered.

"You bet! I'm good at fooling people. All I have to do is say things I don't mean that make people feel the way I want." His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "I wanted you to feel like the conversation wasn't worth it. That's all."

She stared at him. "By letting me know you think I'm stupid?!" She chucked a crayon at his face. "You could have just told me you didn't want to talk about Flatworld!" Her voice was getting that stupid waver again. "If I'd known, I would have dropped it! I didn't want to upset you!"

"I wasn't upset, it's just a stupid thing to complain about! It's just a dumb book! It'd—it'd take a real loser to be bothered by talking about a dumb book! I'm not..." He sighed harshly. "I know you weren't trying to get on my nerves, kid. It'd mess up your sticker chart." (Mabel hadn't even realized he knew about her sticker chart.) Almost inaudibly, he added, "M'sorry."

She'd never heard him apologize before.

She let out a slow breath. "Biiill. I don't think you're a loser."

He muttered something she couldn't make out as he flipped his hood on and pulled it down over his burning face. "Forget it. Move on. It's in the past!"

"If you're so embarrassed—"

"Not embarrassed!"

She chucked another crayon at his chest. "Then why are you telling me this now?"

Bill shut his eyes; took a deep breath; and, with a look of solemn dignity, and no small amount of pain, he said, "Because. Teddy Tender says. Our friends can't help us feel better if we don't tell them why we feel bad." He almost, almost managed to say it without sounding sarcastic.

Mabel burst out laughing. Bill pulled his hood lower.

Bill didn't even like Teddy Tender—he thought he was the stick in the mud of the Color Critters—and he certainly wasn't actually trying to follow Teddy's friendship lessons. He was just... saying something he didn't mean to make Mabel feel the way he wanted. And he wanted her to feel better.

No matter what anyone else said, he could change. And he was changing.

"Apology accepted," Mabel said. "Gold star!" She peeled one off a nearby sticker sheet and held it out.

Bill eyed it, like a man so hungry he was too nauseous to eat eyeing a pizza; and then snatched it from her and stuck it in the middle of his hoodie.

Mabel said, "And... I guess I'm sorry for getting all diggy about your home world." Even if she hadn't known it was bothering him, she probably should've guessed, shouldn't she? With how crabby he'd gotten. "I just got all excited and curious and... kinda worried about you after reading that book?" She sighed. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. You probably hated your dimension."

"What? He lurched forward with the vehemence of his denial—"Of course I don't hate my dimension!" Mabel leaned away at the sudden rage that had flared up in his eyes; but it died just as quickly and Bill immediately reeled himself back in, sitting back, crossing his arms: "I mean, come on, kid, use your head: you read a book about a culture. We're talking about an entire dimension. Would you hold a grudge against Jupiter if an ant bit you on Earth?"

Even as casually as he played it off, Mabel was sure he hadn't meant anything as calm and measured as claiming it was technically irrational to hate an entire dimension. He meant—emphatically, with his whole heart behind it—that he didn't hate his home dimension, at all.

Then why didn't he want to talk about it? (Then why had he destroyed it? Or was not hating it just another fiction he'd made up because he'd prefer that reality? Or was the destruction itself a lie? He hadn't mentioned it once since they'd started talking about Flatworld. Or did he think she didn't know about that and didn't want her to know? Or...)

Something had been churning in her subconscious since she woke up, and now—watching Bill ball up around himself as he squirmed around the things he didn't want to say—it finally dawned on her. Two words. Another piece of the Axolotl's poem. She tried to hold the words in her head until she could write them down, repeating them over and over—Misses home. Misses home.

Quietly, she asked, "Then... don't you want to remember it?"

His face spasmed, like it was nearly cracking in two—and then smoothed out. His face was blank. He didn't answer for a moment. "The last time I told a human more than two sentences about where I'm from... he gave me the universe's most depressing geometry textbook."

Oh. Maybe Bill was following Teddy Tender's friendship advice. "That's because you were talking to a boring old-timey math teacher, duh."

He laughed wryly. "You may have a point!"

If Bill assumed anybody prying into his history was either looking for the reason something was wrong with him, or publishing a whole book about the super bad parts... No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. "So you didn't dislike Flatworld? You just dislike the book?"

Bill grimaced. "Did you read Eddie's biography?"

"No?"

####

As soon as he'd buckled himself into his seat for the drive to Northwest Manor, Dipper read the summary on the back cover of Flatworld, and then the paragraph-long author biography underneath it:

Edward B. Bishop, born in 1838 in England, was an accomplished mathematician, writer, theologian, and closet occultist, as well as a professor at the esteemed University of Fancyton. He published twelve books, the last of which was Flatworld in 1884. After sentencing his square protagonist to a two-dimensional asylum for preaching of the existence of the third dimension, he himself succumbed to an ironically similar fate: three months after publication, he was committed to an asylum for insisting that two-dimensional alien invaders intended to conquer the Earth and were persecuting him for revealing their existence, a delusion he maintained until his death from sleep deprivation in 1886. His most enduring legacy is inventing the margarita glass, which he claimed came to him in a dream. 

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Ouch."

####

"Never mind, don't worry about it," Bill said. "But no. I didn't like the book."

"You poor thing! All this time you've been homesick for the second dimension, but the only things humans talk about is the bad stuff!"

"Don't call me that."

"Do you want to talk about the non-depressy stuff instead? Like..." Mabel wracked her brain for something nice she'd read in the book. She winced. "Uh... I'm sure there's something. You could choose the topic?"

Bill didn't look directly at her. He just looked over all her drawings again. "Tell me why you want to know so badly."

It was basically the same question he'd asked earlier—what's with the third degree—but his tone was different. Mabel swallowed hard and repeated, "Because... I'm your friend. It's crazy that we've been friends for like a month and I barely know a-ny-thing about who you are or how you grew up! By now, I'd usually know about a friend's family, favorite subject, favorite animal, opinion on glitter, and biggest life dream! Plus all the stuff humans have in common—like, 'do you breathe?'"

This time, Bill didn't argue with her answer. (He could have called her a liar. A month ago, she had just been trying to find out what was wrong with him. But this version of the truth she'd made up was better.) "You already know I'm pro-glitter in all contexts and my life's work is to throw an eternal party. What else really matters?"

"Those are the two most important questions," Mabel said seriously. Tentatively, she asked, "Did you have glitter in the second dimension?" He'd already reassured her that they'd had color, but it was hard to imagine glitter in such a bleak world.

"Sure."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

She looked around at the morning's art production, pulled over the first drawing she'd done of her shapesona, and grabbed a bottle of glue to draw a thin line around the heart.

Bill watched as Mabel carefully sprinkled several separate colors of glitter on the line of glue, like a master chef adding a precise amount of spice to a gourmet recipe, to create a glitter rainbow gradient; and then he slowly sat up and leaned toward the table again. "So, who's this freak?"

Mabel gave him an exasperated look. She decided he'd meant "freak" neutrally; but she'd clearly labeled the heart "ME IN FLATWORLD," she thought it was pretty obvious who this freak was.

But Bill cheerfully went on, "He's the most hideously disfigured shape I've ever seen."

"Hey!"

"I'm not joking, it hurts to look at this guy. At least he's symmetrical, but woof."

"She's not a guy! She's supposed to be me in Flatworld," Mabel insisted. "She's a powerful lady and I think she's beautiful." She paused. "Can a heart be a girl?" Lines looked boring, but Flatworld said that girls were all lines and all other shapes were boys. (Or were they? When they'd talked at the mall, Bill had been very clear that he considered himself a triangle instead of male or female, which scuttled the "all polygons are male" concept. Maybe Edward Bishop Bishop had made that part up?)

"She can be anything she wants," Bill said firmly. "I don't see any gender cops around here, do you?"

Good point. "And when there's no cops around, anything's legal."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"Grunkle Stan says it!"

"Wise man." Bill leaned forward further across the table and tapped a finger on the deep cleft at the top of the heart. "Personally, I'm more worried about that agonizing-looking birth defect. I'm surprised she survived past infancy!"

Mabel glared at him, but she supposed she couldn't argue. A heart was a pretty irregular shape. And according to Flatworld, almost all irregular shapes were executed in childhood or else imprisoned in adulthood, since they thought irregular shapes would grow up to be depraved, imbecilic criminals—

"Wait," Mabel said. "Wait. Last year, when I called you an isosceles freak—"

Bill cut in, "It was 'monster,' but go on!"

"Was that, like..." Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper, "a slur on Flatworld?"

Bill fought to keep his face straight as he decided how to respond. He went for the funniest answer. "Yes."

Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "Nooo!"

"It's actually pretty impressive a human managed to come up with it!"

"I'M SORRYYY, augh I didn't know!"

Over her anguished whines, Bill went on, "It's just a good thing you didn't say 'scalene'! I would've had to wash your mouth out with drain cleaner!"

Mabel had pulled the collar of her sweater over her face. From within Sweater Town, she asked, "Was that the first thing I ever said to you?"

Bill choked back a laugh. "Yeah, it was."

She squealed in embarrassment and slid under the table.

"Heck of a first impression, star girl!"

"i'm sorryyy."

Bill reached under the table to pat the top of her head. "Ahhh, it was funny. Get up here." 

As she climbed back into her seat, Bill added, "I'm getting back at you now, I'm not done making fun of your medical miracle yet. You know what she'd look like as a human? A headless, neckless body with an eyeball shoved six inches down her esophagus." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually... that sounds kinda cute."

"Eww, Bill."

"It is, it's cute. Like a clumsy puppy with a neurological disorder! I guess that's how the hideous Miss Heart here must look to humans!"

Mabel looked over her art again, wondering if she should change her shapesona, considering Bill's reaction to it. 

So, maybe she was creating a freak. She didn't see any shape cops around here. She kept drawing. "I'd be fine," she said. "You like weird freaks! You'd keep me safe."

A stricken look crossed his face. He was momentarily silent as he watched Mabel start another picture. And then, as though he were only considering it for the first time, he said, "Yeah. I guess I would."

His gaze drifted to the wrinkled picture of Mabel's shapesona standing protectively in front of Bill. "Freaks can't afford to tear each other down."

####

(THIS is the chapter that's been giving me hell the last few weeks. Months. Last few months. I'm so glad to finally have it out, and I hope y'all enjoyed!! This chapter probably brings up a lot more questions than it actually answers—and completely different questions based on whether or not you've read Flatland lol—so I can't wait to hear what y'all think.)

[charmedreincarnation]

When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.

Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.

I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.

I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.

I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.

I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.

I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.

This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!

The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.

I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.

My advice?

Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!

I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.

You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.

And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.

More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!

[spacedace]

Had a dc x dp brain worm, feel free to use as a prompt <3

Sidenote, I decided to get fancy with the Ancients titles because of course I did lol

Shifting Where = Space (Danny)

Eternal When = Time (Clockwork)

Ever Onward = Speedforce (Ellie)

---

Bruce watched the footage again.

And again.

Again.

It didn’t make sense.

A week ago every television, radio, computer, phone - even the LED billboards - had been taken over to deliver a message. Across the United States. In every territory it held. Every military base. Down in the depths of the oceans where American submarines tried to creep past Atlantian patrols. In the endless cold white of Antarctica. Even far above in the International Space Station. Any place the United States Government had control over, any place one of its citizens found themselves. There was the message.

The face of an entity, human in shape but not in form. Hair as gleaming white as starlight, eyes bright as the twisting dance of the Aurora Borealis, skin as cold and blue as the tail of a comet. The entity wore armor as black as the depths of space with a crown to match, the later glinting and shifting with the twisting birth and death of galaxies. A cloak of nebulae danced down his shoulders, eclipsing the world beyond the entity entirely.

He named himself, jaw tight, expression serious.

High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms.

The Shifting Where. Son of the Eternal When. Father of the Ever Onward. His Epitaphs many and ever growing. The True Balance. The Bridge Between. The Devourer of Dark. The Last Child of Between. The Great One.

King of the Dead. King of the Infinite Worlds. King of so much more than Bruce had ever even known was possible.

King who had declared war. Who marshaled his endless armies. Who spoke of warnings, of efforts to reach a peace, of trying again and again and again to find a way to not plunge into violence and bloodshed. All things living come to call him King in time, he had no want or need to go out and hurry that along. But there were no options left to him now. He had tried for peace. He had been denied.

He would not see his people suffer any longer. Would not see those he’d sworn to lead and protect imprisoned by fools who had sworn themselves enemies to all the afterlives. Would no longer permit the vicious cruelty to continue.

The message was a final warning.

A final offer.

Three days, Phantom said. The United States government would have three days to release their prisoners, to begin the process of dismantling the laws that made death itself an illegal act.

If they refused, he would lead his endless armies personally in the war to come.

It had not been an idle threat.

Three days after the message, after Bruce and the rest of the Justice League scrambled to try and figure out just what it was it was all about, after Justice League Dark’s members shakily took turns explaining just how powerful the being that had gave that message was and how much danger the world was in should he and his armies march upon their world, war came.

Of all places, it began in a town in Illinois.

The sky shattered like broken glass above, Lazarus Green beyond, and the Dead poured out.

It started in Illinois.

It did not end there.

Bruce watched the footage of it all, eyes burning as he watched every second of CCTV footage, every shaky phone camera video, every news broadcast.

Most of them looked human enough. Changed in death, but recognizably human once. A pair of glowing teenagers on a motorcycle, a writhing shadow twisting about at their command sweeping chaos upon the battlefield. A young woman dressed to perform with hair a literal flame, burning bright blue and snapping furiously as she played devastation upon her enemies with her guitar. A child with corpse gray skin and luminescent green hair, flickering in and out of Bruce’s ability to see as if fighting against a law of existence to be visible, screaming orders to a skeleton crew from his place on deck of a 1700s ship that sailed through the sky, disappearing into clouds before raining down attacks from above.

There was more. Glowing skeletons dressed in the fashions of war spanning every culture going back millennia. Robots with weapons far beyond the technology they had even in the League. Creatures of myth and legend. Things of nightmares.

Leading them all, as he had promised, was Phantom.

He looked younger, smaller. Just a boy, really, a gangly teenager that hadn’t quite finished growing into himself. One holding power beyond anything Bruce could ever imagine, but still just a child as far as he could see, no older than Tim who’d just graduated high school. Frantic research found Phantom appearing as far back as human history, but those sightings had to have been after his death. Bruce can’t help but wonder how young the boy had been when he died, how much of that youth still clung to him through all these eons.

It wasn’t something he’d let him self consider normally, not with something like this.

A dangerous unknown appearing without warning and attacking with unimaginable power and seemingly endless forces. It was something that would normally eclipse everything else. Something that would make Bruce put aside the ache at seeing a face so young twisted in rage.

But.

He watched all the footage.

Civilians were put in the crossfire. Were shot at and endangered. Were left terrified and scrambling for safety in buildings that were rapidly being torn away by stray artillery.

But never by Phantom or his armies.

The dead, in fact, went very far out of their way to ensure civilians weren’t harmed. Sweeping people up out of the way of falling debris. Shielding them from attacks that would have most certainly killed a normal human. Some dead even helped evacuate, ushering a frightened and panicked populous to safety as gently as they were capable of. Some of the less human creatures - giant bear-like beings with horns and fangs and ice edging their burly frames - even rushed forward to offer medical aid.

When the sky shattered open and the armies of the dead swept in, they ignored the town below. They focused instead on what was discovered later to be the base of a secretive government agency. The dead’s fight focused on those individuals in sharp white suits, bearing weapons capable of actually injuring King Phantom’s people.

It was these agents that brought the fight to the streets to Amity Park. That fired recklessly and without thought or care to the casualties they could inflict. That didn’t seem to care if they killed a hundred civilians if it meant hurting just one of Phantom’s soldiers.

Bruce watched all the footage.

And again.

Again.

Phantom had declared war.

Phantom spoke in his message of being out of options, of attempting peace. Phantom gave three days time for the release of captives. Phantom lead armies who fought viciously but never once willingly harmed civilians.

Phantom declared war, but he didn’t want it.

“Amanda Waller has reached out.”

Bruce didn’t turn his attention from the screens before him, eyes burning as he followed Phantom as the King dove away from the middle of locked combat to shield a child from a pulse of green energy from something like a grenade another agent in white had carelessly thrown. The child was crying but unharmed. The left pauldron of Phantom’s armor cracked and shattered from a direct shot from the enemy he’d just been fighting that he’d turned his back on, a glowing green liquid uncomfortably like Lazarus Water dripped down from a smoldering wound.

Clark stepped up to stand beside him as he watched, face worn and tired. The League had missed the first battle, but they’d been quick to appear at the rest. Phantom and his army ignored them unless they put themselves purposefully in the way of the fight. They were, as Justice League Dark had warned, vastly out powered by the entities fighting. A hulking giant knight made of shadow riding a nightmarish steed had driven Clark six feet down into the dirt when he’d attempted to make his way to Phantom directly to try and talk to the king.

The depth Clark had ended up felt like a warning of what would happen if he tried to get close to the king again.

It probably was.

“She said they have intel for us.” A faint twitch of fingers, jaw clenching, voice flat in that way that told Bruce his old friend was fighting back anger with everything he had. “That she has options for how to deal with the insurgence.”

Bruce shut off the monitors.

He’d seen enough.

Now was time to get answers to just what, exactly, Amanda Waller and the US government had done to cause the Dead to rise and rage.

---

Part Two Part Three Part Four

[thehmn]

I’m currently listening to Maren Uthaug’s book 11% about a world where most men have died. I should probably wait until I’ve finished the book but I’m so fascinated by the world building.

As of now it’s still unclear why the men died but when the story takes place there’s a mix of older women who fucking hates men and young women who have only met drugged up men at “breeding centers” and imagine “males” as violent boogeymen but otherwise don’t really care and just want to live in the new seemingly perfect society their grandmothers fought for. The only people who still fight for men’s rights are witches who believe masculine energies are as natural and Of Nature as feminine energies, but even they sound more like animal rights activists, standing outside breeding centers with signs every Friday. Their most provocative sign is a picture of a man with Human written on it.

Christianity has been completely transformed and is now run by priests (they don’t call themselves priestess) who can only hold ceremonies when they have their periods and snakes are their most sacred symbol because they gave knowledge to Eva and God is called The Mother.

Trans men exist but are referred to as Man Women and they all seem to be sex workers who have functional silicone penises, though I’m not far enough into the story to know if they have other jobs. They generally also still have breasts because working as a wet nurse is another source of income for them. Testosterone treatments is not an option because it would make them too masculine and dangerous to be allowed into society but they all have male names and everyone use male pronouns for them.

A really fascinating aspect of the world is how people want to get rid of the old “patriarchal architecture” of straight lines and boxes but refuse to tear it down with machines, instead insisting on letting Mother Nature reclaim it. Only Rat Girls are actively trying to destroy the old buildings by releasing hoards of rats into them and planting bamboo to break up the concrete. New buildings have round shapes and are build in ways that make them blend in with cultivated nature and inside they’re painting in beautiful colors with no hard edges. They sound a lot like colorful hobbit homes. Also, locks are considered uncivilized and of a time when violent men roamed the earth and made life unsafe so nothing, from front doors to bathrooms, have locks. For a while after most men died women would go for Night Walks to relish in the fact that they no longer had to be afraid, though they liked to visit the witches at night because it felt a little spooky, which the witches thought was good fun.

The story is naturally about a middle aged witch who is hiding a young boy illegally and gets milk from one of the trans men in the red district while also sleeping with a Christian priest who struggles with her sacred job because her periods are irregular.

I’ll come back with follow up thoughts once I’ve finished it. Unlike what you might think, Maren Uthau isn’t a scary man hater. I’ve listened to most of her other books and this isn’t a recurring trope so clearly she has something to say specifically with this story and it’s rated pretty highly by both male and female readers. I think I’m in for quite the ride.

[wzrd-wheezes]

Lean Down - R.L x S.B x Reader

"Reader gets embarrassed by the way Remus or Sirius (your choice) leans down to listen to what she says and she’s deprived of almost any human interaction or touch so it was so obvious that she’s embarrassed and gets teased over it."

AN: this turned out way filthier (and way longer) than i intended it to be lol. I couldn't decide which one of them I wanted to write this for so I just did them both hahaha. This is also a modern day au just cause why not. Enjoy!

2.4k

Warnings: a whole load of sex, swearing, use of the word slut, blowjobs and the like. as always dont read if you're a minor and also make sure you wrap it before you tap it <3

Sirius Black was never on time for anything, unless that thing was a party that he was absolutely itching to get to. This being the reason that he was currently stood on Y/N’s doorstep, a bottle of liquor in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  

“C’mon, Y/N, get your shit and let's go.” he called, banging on her front door with his fist. 

“You’re so impatient, Pads, you know that, don’t you?” Remus laughed, leaning against the wall as they waited for their friend to emerge, “You’re acting like you’ve never been to a party before.”  

He didn’t get chance to reply as Y/N opened the door and stepped out to meet them. Sirius let out a low whistle as he laid eyes on her, making Remus’s eyes snap up from the spot he was staring at on the ground. 

“Looks like we’re gonna have to keep an eye on you tonight, eh, Moony?” he grinned. 

“What’s that supposed to mean then?” Y/N asked, looking over her shoulder at him as she locked the door behind her. 

“It’s his way of saying that he thinks you look fit,” Remus chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Hey, with any luck you might find a nice bloke to bring home with you tonight.” Sirius smirked, “It’s about time, isn’t it?” 

“Rude. It’s not been that long. Sorry that we’re not all horny bastards like you, Sirius.” Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes at him. 

“It has been a while though,” Remus said, smiling slightly, “I can’t remember the last time you told us about a bloke you were seeing.” 

“Because she’s not had any action since she shagged Jam-” Y/N shut him up by jabbing him sharply in the ribs, earning a dramatic groan from Sirius. 

The party was being hosted in the house of one of their old school friends and when they arrived the place was already packed, people already beginning to spill out onto the front lawn. Music blared out of the speakers and the tables were littered with plastic cups, people were scattered all over the place, some slouched on sofas and others tucked away in corners.  

“The fact that we’ve been at this party for approximately two minutes and I still don’t have a drink in my hand should be illegal.” Sirius said dramatically, making his way over to a tabled that was filled with various drinks. He made a concoction and poured it into a cup for each of them. 

“This tastes like paint stripper.” Y/N grimaced, taking a swig. 

“Yeah, you should really let me make the drinks next time, Pads.” Remus said, taking a sip of his own drink and pulling a face, “This is grim.” 

Sirius just laughed at them, chugging his own drink down and beckoning for them to follow him into the crowd. Within minutes, they were in the thick of it, their bodies pressed against each other, dancing to the music that boomed out. The air was thick and warm and Y/N drained the last of her drink from her cup before tossing it to the side. 

“I’m gonna go make another drink, do you want one?” Y/N asked, raising her voice slightly so the pair could hear her.  

“What was that, love?” Remus asked, leaning down so he could hear her properly. 

“Yeah, I didn’t catch that.” Sirius followed suit, pressing himself closer to her and tilting his head downwards. Y/N looked up at them towering over her and felt the heat rush to her cheeks. 

“Go on, what did you say?” Remus leaned closer to her face, his stubble scratching against her cheek. 

“I- er- I said that I was going to get a drink.” Y/N stuttered, feeling flustered all of a sudden. Remus shot a look at Sirius who smirked and grabbed Y/N’s hand and dragged her out of the crowd and into the garden where it was significantly quieter. 

“What’s got you all jittery?” Sirius quizzed, looking down at her, still smirking. 

“I think I know what it is...” Remus mumbled, taking a step closer to her. 

“Are you really that touch starved that us leaning down to talk to you has got you all flustered?” Sirius teased. 

“No, no-” 

“No?” Remus mocked, “Why are you blushing then? I could feel the fucking heat radiating from your cheeks when I leaned down to hear you.” 

Sirius stepped closer to her as well, snaking an arm around her waist and pressing himself against her back. 

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, darling." Sirius whispered in her ear, resting his chin against her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her waist. She could smell the cigarettes and the alcohol on his breath and she squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a sharp breath. Remus stood in front of her, placing a large hand on her cheek. 

“You’re very cute when you’re flustered,” He grinned, “Why don’t we go back to our place, yeah?” 

Y/N bit her lip and nodded, knowing exactly what she was getting herself into. 

Sirius stumbled through the front door of his and Remus’s apartment, not even bothering to turn the lights on, just dragging Y/N to his room. His room was dark, clothes strewn over a chair and his bed unmade. The pair backed Y/N up to the bed, until her legs hit the edge of it and she sank onto it. 

“You look so fucking hot tonight,” Sirius grumbled, sitting down next to her, “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He nuzzled into her neck leaving a trail of kisses, his hands rubbing up and down her thigh . Remus sat on the other side on her, his lips finding the other side of her neck, sucking gently at the spot just above her collarbone, while he had one hand on her waist. 

“We saw the way you’ve been looking at us, love,” Remus whispered, “You could’ve just asked and we could’ve done this a lot sooner.” 

“Was too scared... didn’t wanna ruin our friendship, y’know...” Y/N mumbled. 

“Well we’re gonna ruin you.” Sirius said lowly. She could feel him smirking against her skin. 

The boys both suddenly stood up in front of her, their crotches almost level with her face. Sirius’s ring clad fingers skimmed over his belt, quickly undoing it and pulling down his jeans.  

“You’re gonna suck us both off, okay?” Remus said firmly, also undoing his trousers, palming his bulge as he spoke. Y/N just nodded in response and dropped to her knees in front of them. 

“Y’look so pretty on your knees for us, babe.” Sirius said gruffly, pulling down his boxers and giving his dick a few quick pumps. He put a hand in her hair and guided her forward so the tip of his dick bumped gently against her lips. Y/N darted her tongue out, licking a stripe over the head before taking it into her mouth properly. Sirius groaned, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at her. Remus cleared his throat, seemingly impatient from the lack of attention he was getting. 

“I can just leave you two to it, if you like?” He said sarcastically. 

“No. No. I want you both.” Y/N said, shuffling over and focusing her attention on the other boy. 

“I’m not normally one for sharing,” Sirius said, moving over and sitting on the edge of the bed behind Y/N, “but I suppose this is going to have to be an exception.”  

Sirius once again grabbed a handful of her hair, but this time shoved her roughly down onto Remus’s dick. She spluttered around him, her eyes going wide and prickling with tears.  

“Atta girl.” he grumbled, “You can take him all.” 

Remus’s head tipped back and he let out a groan as he felt her throat clench around him as she gagged. He reached down and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. 

“Don’t be too rough with her, Pads.” 

“She likes it. Can tell from the way she’s clenching her thighs together,” He chuckled, “Jus’ a little slut really, aren’t you.” He carried on pushing her onto the other boy's dick, holding her in place while he fucked her throat. Eventually, he released her giving her chance to catch her breath. Y/N’s face was tear stained and her lips were swollen but she looked up at the pair needily. 

“Need you both,” she gasped. “Please.” 

Remus and Sirius both shared a glance and lifted her onto the bed, quickly removing her clothes. 

“Fuck.” Sirius gasped as his eyes roamed over her body. 

“So fuckin’ pretty.” Remus agreed. His handed grabbed at the flesh of her thighs as he pulled them apart, “She’s soaked already, mate.” 

“That right, baby?” Sirius asked, a rough finger going up to trace a line over the girls swollen lips, “Nice and needy for us, aren’t you?”  

Y/N let out a soft moan, nodding quickly. Sirius smirked as he pushed two of his fingers into her mouth, Y/N’s tongue immediately swirling around them desperately. 

“I’d stop doing that unless you want me to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours again.” 

The girl tried to speak but was cut off by Remus roughly shoving two of his fingers into her dripping cunt, making her gasp. He fucked his fingers into her softly and leaned down to suck gently on her clit. Sirius’s hands roamed over her chest, fingers quickly flicking at one of her nipples while he took the other one into his mouth.  

“Move over then, Moony.” he said after a while, “I wanna taste her before I fuck her.” 

Remus nodded and swapped places with him, pressing his lips against Y/N’s as Sirius settled between her thighs. Sirius was rougher than Remus was, he was eating her out like he was a man starved. He looked up after a while, chin glistening and eyes dark. 

“M’gonna fuck you and Moony’s gonna fuck that pretty mouth, yeah?”  

Y/N nodded and Remus flipped her round so that she was on her hands and knees. Sirius shifted her legs apart and slowly ran the head of his cock up and down her slit. 

“Sirius, stop teasing and just fuck me already.” Y/N whined. 

“Don’t start whining.” he tutted, “I don’t give brats what they want.” 

Remus chuckled and moved so that Y/N’s face was level with his cock. She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out and he tapped his dick against it. 

“Eager little slut, aren’t you?” he grinned, thrusting deeply into her mouth earning a gag from her. Sirius lined himself up and entered in one swift movement, stopping briefly to give her a moment to adjust before continuing to pound into her. Y/N released an unholy moan around Remus’s cock as Sirius slammed into her. 

“That it, baby, moan around my cock,” Remus mumbled, “keep making those pretty noises for us.” His hand rested against her jaw, holding her in place as he rocked into her mouth. Sirius had one hand gripped onto her waist while the other roamed over the flesh of her arse cheeks, occasionally slapping it as he fucked her. 

“Feel so good around me, darling.” he groaned, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against her shoulder, the chain of his necklace dangling cooly against her hot back, “Can feel you clenching around me. You getting close?” 

Y/N tried to nod as best as she could without taking Remus’s cock out of her mouth. Sirius just chuckled in response to her moans and fucked into her harder. The sounds coming from the trio were filthy, Sirius’s hips slamming against her arse, Y/N moaning around Remus’s cock as he let out low groans of encouragement. 

“Fuck, M’getting close, baby.” he murmured, “You gonna come with me, yeah?” he reached around and rubbed her clit as he rammed into her. 

“That’s it, gorgeous. Come for us,” Remus encouraged, “Look so good when you’re getting fucked from both ends.”  

Sirius’s hips stuttered as he chased his high, Y/N backing herself up onto him as she chased hers. He collapsed against her as he came, fingers still dancing over her clit as he tipped her over the edge. Remus let his dick slip out from her mouth so that they could hear the moans that escaped her lips properly. After giving her a moment to recover, Remus took Sirius’s spot at the end of the bed and flipped the girl over so that she was laying on her back. 

“What are you doing, Rem?” she mumbled, her eyes glazed over slightly, “I’ve already come...” 

“You thought that it was just going to be Sirius that fucked you?” he asked, peering down at her, “Can’t let him be the only one that gets to try out that pretty pussy, can I?” 

Just as the other boy did, Remus thrust into her swiftly, hoisting her legs up so that they were wrapped around his waist. Sirius shifted so that Y/N’s head rested in his lap and he leaned down to play with her tits as she got fucked. His calloused fingers ran over the soft skin of her chest, occasionally flicking over one of her nipples. 

“Fucking hell, she does feel good,” Remus said, “can’t believe we haven’t done this sooner.” 

“I’ve got a funny feeling this is gonna be a regular occurrence,” Sirius laughed, “We just fuck you too good, don’t we, love?” 

“So good.” Y/N moaned breathlessly, “I-I’m close, Rem.” 

“Me too, baby. Be a good girl and come for me.” 

That was all it took to tip her over the edge, her eyes squeezing shut as she arched her back and let her head fall into Sirius’s lap. A filthy moan ripped from her body as Remus fucked into her overstimulated cunt. His thrusts were getting sloppy as he reached his peak, a string of swear words falling from his lips as he unravelled, finishing inside of her. He flopped down onto the bed, three pairs of legs tangled together on Sirius’s messy sheets. 

“That was...wow.” Y/N gasped, snuggling into the boys. 

“Amazing. You were great,” Remus smiled, pressing a kiss against her temple. 

“Always knew you would be.” Sirius grinned. 

[marlshroom]

i will never ever stop thinking about the disability allegories in gravity falls. i cant ever stop thinking about disability allegories in other media and gravity falls is no different. im feeling chatty today, so lets see if i can articulate all my feelings on the matter.

the most interesting thing that stuck out to me with thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com was this snippet on fords medical paper:

we hear about this kind of attitude towards disabilities often, maybe you have heard about autism being referred to as the "next evolutionary change in humans." we can especially see this when a person has a disability, but is also very capable in other fields. there are so many cases in the medical or educational field of a child having specific needs, yet they are ignored due to them being "gifted".

in a vacuum, ford's extra finger may not be considered a disability, the sixth finger allows him more movement and dexterity, and ontop of that, he's a genius. its just an extra finger right? its not like it hurts him. but it does hurt him. he is a child living with a limb difference, he is constantly ridiculed by his peers. they call him a freak and physically harass him.

this is where we dip into the social model of disability here. i know sometimes that can cause a little bit of discourse, but i think its interesting to note here! please if you have a limb difference feel free to add your perspective or correct me where you see fit. if you don't know what the social model of disability is, its the perspective that disabled people would not be as limited in their abilities if it wasn't for the oppressive society that they lived in(think people in wheelchairs could do more things if infrastructure had disabled people in mind). ford wouldn't be experiencing abliesm in his life if limb differences were something people were educated about. then we get to bill cipher. in theory, his ability to see the 3rd dimension is almost a super power. but in the book of bill its literally stated that it is illegal for anyone to mention the possibility of "up". he is forced into abusive medical practices where he is being drugged to suppress his ability. no one in his dimension has the same perspective of him, he is completely alone, and even worse, the people who should be protecting him like his parents and doctors are abusing him(not that his parents are evil for this obviously. they don't have a choice and i assume they want what is best for him, what were they supposed to do? yet it still had this horrible impact on bill).

this social model can be applied to bill cipher. he has this ability that in a vacuum would be considered amazing, but he lives in a society(rip) that oppresses this. they have to, because bill trying to let his dimension see the stars killed every last person. which makes me think that whoever was in power here probably knew this would happen. its unsure if bill cipher knew the true extent of his damage would be, but i am of the belief that he didn't know how bad it would really be.

i just find all of this very interesting. i really love when a story tackles a topic such as disability. its so obvious this is what alex hirsch is going for and its such a unique take that i don't see often in media, as a disabled person myself. feel free to lmk your thoughts :)

[sweaterkittensahoy]

My chronic pain disabilities (hip fuckery; migraines) do not stop me from working. It doesn't mean I should treat my disabilities with less respect than disabilities that DO make it impossible to work.

When my endo pain was at its worse, I did all the things I was supposed to do--according to HR--to protect my job. I filed ADA paperwork. I communicated when I used it. I had the doctor's note. Etc.

Two days before my hysterectomy, I got a call from HR. "Oh, we're not sure we'll have work for you after you recover."

Which, first of all, is fucking illegal to say to someone who has ADA paperwork in place with you.

And, second of all, you're a fucking liar. I was the ONLY tech writer in a company of 500 people. Don't bullshit me.

I should have filed a complaint and sued the fuck out of them, but all I wanted to do was be able to possibly get out of pain and not have to worry about my paycheck after that. So, I called someone else in the company who I knew would lose his shit if I told him I'd basically just been told I had no work to do.

Two days after surgery, I had an email from HR to my personal account. Which, technically, they ALSO should not have used to contact me while on medical leave that was--like my disability paperwork--100% lined up and signed off on.

But the HR person wanted me to know that "Oh, looks like there IS work for you! Lol! Didn't know!"

This is bullshit. She was very aware.

Years later, I'm at a much better company. My supervisor, who is nothing but supportive, recently floated that it might be good to have ADA paperwork in place for my migraines because they flare during stress, which is the time I'm needed at work THE MOST.

No shit: I went into hard shutdown for about two minutes after he said it. It wasn't a threat or a dismissal of my migraines. It was him going, "Oh, hey, so no one can ever try to use them against you to say you're bad with stress, you might do this."

But all I felt was how I was absolutely fucked over by a bad company because they said, "You need to follow these legal steps," and I did, and they still tried to get around them.

So, no, I'm not dealing with getting punished if I have more than 2k in my bank account. I'm not dealing with people touching me, or my assistive devices (I don't currently use any). I can park anywhere in a lot and walk to the store entrance. But I was disabled, and I AM disabled, and I have had people try to punish me for existing in a body that just fucking HURTS because it HURTS.

It's Disability Awareness Month. I am disabled. Less so than I was ten years ago, which is a fucking stroke of luck. But also my right hip has started to go now, and who knows what the next 10 years will bring.

It's Disability Awareness Month. If someone says, "I'm disabled, and I want to talk about my experience," please pay attention and listen and learn and understand there's all sorts of ways disabled people are fighting to be treated with basic human dignity and under the basic rule of law.

[elliescoolerwife]

Nazi dumbfuck

Being against murder and genocide is not a nazi ideology but go off I guess.

If anyone is nazi, it’s zionists.

Lets take a look:

In particular, the Nazis embraced the false idea that Jews were a separate and inferior race. - Israeli politicians have called palestinian children the “children off darkness” and israelis “the children of light”. Also, they’ve called Palestinians animals and not humans and therefore should be treated as such.

the Nazis referred to Jews as a “parasitic race.” - there is posters around Israel and on the internet created by Israelis where they compare palestinians to parasites - saying that they’re parasites to the israeli soil and needs to be removed.

Nazis wanted to separate Jews and Aryan Germans. They tried to force Jews to leave Germany. Not only do Israelis see Palestinians as animals, they’ve displaced 2 million Palestinians. Do you have any idea of what’s going on in Rafah rn?

Those whom the Nazis identified as non-Aryans (including Jews) were persecuted and discriminated against. Israelis have murdered 700.000 palestinians and removed their access to water, food and medical care. Israelis have been protesting by sitting in front of vehicles with medical equipment so gazans don’t get help. Israel have been dropping white phosphorus for 10 years so Palestinians either 1. Get burned. 2. Get killed by the water they drink that contains that white phosphorus. PS! White phosphorus is illegal but not when israelis do it🤡

the Nazis carried out forced sterilizations of certain groups whom they considered inferior.. lets swich our focus from Palestinians and lets take a look at the black people in Israel, lot of them ethiopians, that have been forced to sterilize themselves because israelis don’t want “black” in their jewish line. They want to keep it “clean” and not let black genes, especially not when those black people have converted and aren’t “real” jews. Do you remember who also wanted to keep their race clean? Does it sound familiar?

The Nazis believed that races were destined to wage war against each other. For them, war was a way for the Aryan race to gain land and resources. Specifically, the Nazis wanted to conquer territory in eastern Europe. They planned to remove, dominate, or murder the people who lived there. They believed that Aryan Germans should control this land because they were the supposed master race. Israelis believe that they are Gods chosen people and therefore owns that land. They have removed, dominated and murderer Palestinians who live there to take that land from them, claiming they are the superior race because God chose them. Therefore, they have every right to take that territory from the indigenous people.

Nazis also falsely claimed that all Jews were an existential threat to Germany and that they had to be destroyed. Israelis claim that this “war” will not be over until total victory - meaning until every Palestinian is dead or removed. They celebrated when north gaza looked like a desert, because the “parasites” who was a threath to Israel is now gone. And now Netanyahu is telling these parasites to leave Rafah, the claimed “safe space” or else they get murdered there too. And lets remember that Israelis don’t discriminate. They murder all Palestinians! Muslims, Christians, jews. All of them. And anyone who supports them.

And don’t even dare to say the Hamas because Israel never cared about Hamas nor did Hamas exist when this started. They have claimed that they need to murder children in order to prevent them from growing up and joining hamas. Children. Women. Elderly.

Bold of you to ask this anonymously, though.

[valtsv]

fuck it. silt verses oc masterpost. eat up.

- anastasis crane - god-hunter, atheist, and wandering vagabond. both predator and prey in a single being. does dirty work so others don't have to. it's ya boy annie.

- house crane - old money cult family who rebranded after their god was outlawed following the imago war. now they construct and review binding contracts for both peninsulan and linger straits bodies of commerce and government - with an emphasis on the "binding" aspect. rumour has it they've been granted special dispensation to keep practicing their illegal and rather nasty banned rituals, so long as they're discrete and keep providing their services to the people who matter. they don't mix much with anyone outside of the family except on business, and are rarely seen in public. it's generally agreed that the reports of many of them being not altogether human are just scary stories for children, but a few people have claimed (under the influence of a few rounds at the local bar) to have known someone who worked for someone high up in business or politics who can confirm the truth of such claims with their own eyes. of course, these people have generally since disappeared, which makes corroboration difficult. their characteristic spindly, spidery features are probably just a product of ancestral aristocratic inbreeding. probably.

- fen kahron - ferryman presiding over a treacherous stretch of marshland. you will not be able to cross without her help, but that hasn't stopped people from trying, either out of principle or to avoid the toll, which takes the form of something of personal value to the individual. fortunately, her god's mouth is always open. she's not terribly fond of the parish of tide and flesh - her relationship to her god is personal, and they keep trying to convert her. which is silly, really, because she's been dead for a very long time.

- the carrion-herald / the bleach-bone king - an angel/saint(?) of death and decay that feeds on the dead and dying in extreme, remote environments where rescue or retrieval is unlikely. his coming is heralded by his halo of carrion birds seen circling overhead. those who worship him see this as a sign of luck - either you've been chosen to meet him, or to bear witness to his procession.

- harmony joy - a love-saint who leads a dancing plague. once human, she called a god into her in her aching loneliness after being ostracised utterly from her community and forced to bear witness to their collective happiness together, which blessed her to dance forever so beautifully that she would never want for a partner again. she might seem sentient at first, but spend long enough in her company (not recommended) and you'll soon realise that her apparent personality is simply a fragmented collection of lovingly preserved scraps of her past lovers, who, once in her thrall, will dance until their bodies give out, even if their minds should break and skin and sinew should snap and be torn away in strips. sightings of her procession have dwindled in recent years, likely due to modern technological advancements allowing for more effective deterrence and warning systems, as well as the improvements in long-range weaponry, but she still features prominently in urban legends and cautionary tales about staying out late alone.

[txttletale]

sorry this ask isnt about flags :( i saw your post about the word "trafficking" and i just wanted to ask for more clarity? is your point that we shouldnt refer to situations where someone is forced or coerced into sex work as "trafficking" (and should just consider it sex work but under duress) OR that "human trafficking" and "sex trafficking" (or other terms i may not be familiar with) should be talked about with more specificity rather than just talking about "trafficking", in which the crime is "moving people", OR that the concept of "trafficking" in its entirety is derived from the idea that people in certain places is wrong? im asking in good faith because i was under the impression that specifically when addressing sex work its important to make a distinction between people who are sex workers and people who are being sex trafficked, but admittedly my knowledge could be outdated because its not a field i have much access to.

i hope this is clear!

yeah my post is more or less in opposition to 'trafficking' as a word. obviously it is important to distinguish between people who are being directly forced into sex work and people who aren't -- but to describe the problem as ''sex trafficking'' creates an association between the movement of people and sexual slavery that can only lead to reactionary policy positions. in the vast, vast majority cases of what you might unambiguously call ''sex trafficking'', the women and girls being ''trafficked'' wanted to move to the country they're smuggled into, usually (but not always) with the promise of a job. then their passports are stolen and they are told they owe the people who brought them into the country ridiculous amounts of money. unable to go to the police due to fear of being deported, they have no choice but to work for free or for vastly subminimum wages as sex workers in an unsafe and coerved capacity. (nb: this exact thing also happens with agricultural and domestic workers).

obviously this is horrifying, but what's really important to note is that the victims wanted to enter the country and that it is often 'anti-trafficking' border-tightening restrictions that make it more difficult for them to do anything about their situation by making their presence in the country more precarious. describing this as ''trafficking'' makes it seem like the illegal immigration is more or just as troubling as the sexual (or nonsexual) slavery and effective imprisonment, when this is just obviously a reactionary position to take.

[batterygarden]

reader has hair (no description), is smaller than denji, little drabble but still put a read more hehe--inspired by ydt anon <3

Working a double shift in one day should be illegal. Regardless of a person’s circumstances, jobs should never align so that a human being has to work over 10 hours in one day—it should be a universal agreement that doing so would be barbaric. 

Unfortunately these ideals along with your dreams for a better society are contemplated from the floor today, after stumbling through 13 hours of multi-shifted labor. 

You’ve been cheek-to-carpet ever since you got home.

Denji has just finished saying good night to nayuta—they usually read a chapter of a book before Denji declares lights out—when he walks out and sees you. 

“Baybeee!” He calls when he does, beelining from his trek towards the kitchen. When your only response is a muffled little groan, Denji promptly crawls down next to you, almost nose to nose. Your eyes remain closed so he runs the back of a knuckle real lightly over your cheek, asking if you’re asleep in a tiny whisper.  

You hum a no, squinting to watch him flash a smile with teeth while his head gets propped up by an elbow.

“I’m glad you're home, I’ve been missin’ you bad today. Nayuta, too.” 

“Promise I missed you more.” 

You both stare at each other for a minute then, Denji’s knuckle continuing its light grazing, bodies still sprawled on the floor. 

The two of you have these odd, wordless interactions so often it isn’t even funny, just intimate. 

Eventually the silence is broken with Denji’s voice—“I really really really love you.” 

You smile and nod, nuzzling a bit closer till he gets the hint and pecks your lips. 

“Love you too. Also my back hurts,” you let him know. 

Denji frowns, “y’wanna get off the floor maybe?” 

You shake your head, earning a chuckle. 

“Ya need a masseuse?” 

There’s another chuckle at your enthusiastic nod.

When Denji heaves himself off the floor, his warm hands are quickly rubbed over your shoulder blades, smoothing out your shirt and gently tugging it down where it was riding up. You fold arms under your head to get comfy, melting in place when Denji starts putting some muscle into his back rub—he works out your knots with a touch that feels like god himself.

You groan in relief every time he presses harder, and after a while you feel nice and loose like jello. 

“Think you could play with my hair, too, baby?” 

You eventually mumble, face buried. 

Denji hums gliding his hands up and scooting forward.

“Y’could even sit on my back. I bet the weight would feel nice,” you add when you feel him reach over you. 

“Tsss like I’d do that. I’d break your little spine.” 

You love when Denji plays with your hair, because he doesn’t ever really… play with it. He just touches it lightly, his fingers so gentle like he’s worried if he tugs even the tiniest bit you’d be hurt. You fall asleep to his soft touch, waking up later to find you’re tucked in bed with Denji next to you, arm thrown lazily around your side while he sleeps. 

[tizeline]

How does Draxum deal with raising three super soldiers, mentally? We know from the show that Draxum becomes depressed after realizing that he helped unleash the Shredder and almost became one of the reasons why Yokai kind gets destroyed alongside humanity, but when the boys were younger did Draxum have any doubts about raising the boys as child soldiers or did it take up so much energy as to make him depressed?

Also, we’ve touched up on how the boys might react to Draxum’s destroy humanity’s plans after meeting April and Donnie but how do the boys react to Yokai reacting negatively to Draxum’s plans. Especially considering human society are a part of Yokai business resource chains even if unknowingly. I doubt normal Yokai like Hueso would react positively if they every heard the boys and Draxum’s plans to destroy humanity considering he lives on the surface with his kid. Also if you think about how Hueso is wanted in the Hidden City, Hueso Jr probably goes to school in the human world.

Draxum might know to keep quiet about his highly illegal plans to destroy humanity and mutate humans but were the boys ever told by Draxum to keep the plans secret from other Yokai? Does Raph considering he wants to become a police officer does he become devastated when he realizes that what he’s been raised to do is illegal according to Yokai laws?

I just want to mention that early on in the show Draxum calls mutants “Yokai” before he hears what the mutants were calling themselves, and tried to ingrain himself with them by creating the evil league of mutants. So do the boys call themselves Yokai like what Draxum would’ve wanted or do they come to the conclusion that they should be called mutants anyway?

In the flashback with the Council of Heads Draxum talks about mutating humanity into “Yokai” in his plans to prevent the prophecy of Yokai kind getting destroyed from occurring but the Council mentions that the actual prophecy makes no mention of humans being the ones to destroy Yokai kind. Did Draxum ever bring the prophecy being the whole reason he wants to destroy humanity up to the boys? How do they react to everything they’ve ever been told being a lie or the result of their dad making a mountain out of a mole hill?

Woah, lotsa questions, here we go! :D

While Draxum probably feels at least a bit anxious about sending his sons off to fight (dad instincts yknow) he doesn't really feel bad about it. He's very much convinced that humans are going to destroy the yokai if they don't destroy the humans first, so really, having his sons fight alongside him to save yokai-kind is would actually just benefit the boys is the long run. Sure, turning them into soldiers is putting them in danger, but in Draxums mind they are already in danger just by humanity existing. And while raising three hyperactive mini super soldiers was definitely a bit draining, it didn't have a particular detrimental effect on his psyche, mentally he's doing fine.

Raph, Leo and Mikey already know that the majority of yokai wouldn't vibe with the destruction of humanity, even tho there are yokai who don't particular like humans, that doesn't mean they wish any harm on the entire species. The Drax Trio's explanation for this is that CLEARLY those yokai don't truly understands what's at stake! If they did, they'd OBVIOUSLY side with Draxum because their dad knows best! And yeah, Draxum wouldn't want the whole truth of his ambitions to be known, what he's doing isn't exactly legal so the turtles would have to keep the yokai-world-domination plot on the down-low. That being said, it's not illegal to dislike humanity so it wouldn't be a secret that the Draxum family is quite anti-human.

(You know, I always assumed Hueso Jr was attended school in the Hidden City or was homeschooled, but I really like the concept of him going to a human school while using a cloaking brooch likee Sunita)

(And Raph wouldn't have any desire to join the yokai police force in this AU, so there's that)

And yeah, you make a good point. Mutants are essentially just artificially created yokai, so Draxum and his sons would just use the term yokai when reffering to the turtles. Donnie and April would be the ones to start using the term mutant probably, but I like the idea of The Drax Trio being very opposed being called mutants themselves. Obviously they'd know about their unusual origins, but they'd still consider themselves as part of yokai-kind, and the term mutant would probably feel quite "othering" to them.

Draxum would've told his sons about the prophecy really early on, (he probably used it as a bedtime story lmaooooo) so they'd already be quite familiar with the details of it, INCLUDING the fact that humans aren't mentioned at all in it. But it also doesn't mention what exactly it is that destroys yokai-kind at all, so the trio just figure that if Draxum deduced that humans are the biggest risk to yokai and are therefore the unpsecified threat spoken of in the prophecy, then that must be right cuz there's now way their super smart dad would be wrong, right?

[zaenaris]

Anime-only adaptations I really enjoyed

I really loved how the anime staff pour their love in the flashback and in the parts where the characters are described the most (bc, in the end, TR is a story driven by characters, not plot), so yeah, kudos for the kokonui, kakuiza and Kisaki centric parts that were not in thee manga and that were added as a ponderate choice by the anime team.

In chronological order

When Takemichi calls him with his nickname "Kaku-chan", Kakucho hesitates before killing him, while in the manga (ch.134) when Izana orders him to kill Takemichi, he just does it with no mercy. The result is the same, but in the anime we saw Kakucho's struggle

The parts about Koko and Inupi, their past and their fight (2x21 or ep.8 of the 2nd coure of S2). It is a very emotional and crude part also in the manga, but in the anime, thanks to some changes/adaptations/voice acting and music, manages to be even more emotional and impactful, while remaining faithful to the manga. That's how an adaptation should be done

First of all, the kiss

while, story-wise, it's clear the kiss is not fanservice, but an important moment to understand their past and their complicated relationship, no one can deny the anime kiss looks even more passionate than the manga version

Among the people that approached Koko in the manga for money reasons, only Izana and Taiju were mentioned (ch.159), meanwhile in the manga, besides them, were added also Madarame Shion - an anime only addition-

and the Haitani Brothers, as a nod to Wakui's birthday art for Koko

I already talked about it here and partially here but, in short, I like how the anime underlines even better that Koko considers himself unredeemable and incapable of detach his own identity to make money illegally

and honestly, peak adaptation: the transition to younger Koko to Tenjiku!Koko saying the same line, to make us understand that Koko still feels incredibly guilty about the past...

... and the fact both Inupi and Koko cry in this scene, a moment that there wasn't in the manga and that was an incredibly beautiful and touching addition

but while manga!Koko -ch.159- at this point is just resigned and "colder" in his decision to stay with Tenjiku, just like also manga!Inupi already calmed down, anime!Inupi is both fed up with the situation but willing to makes things right and very determined..

while anime!Koko is destroyed, he doesn't even stand up when Inupi punches him (I already talked about it here)

the little addition of Kakucho in the flashback when Shinichiro goes to say hi to Izana to take him out with him. Izana's favourite people "interacting" was nice (too bad the animation quality was a little meh in this episode, but I understand we can't have peak quality all the time)

Kakucho with Izana when he finds again Karen by chance and she tells his she's not his biological mother and he's not related to any of the Sano. It the manga Izana was alone, adding Kakucho was nice because the situation is still terrible, Izana sees his whole world collapsing on himself, but at least he has Kakucho

last one, Kisaki's "I wanted to be like you" that humanizes him a little. In the manga his death was quick and brutal. We can understands, reading the manga, he had this superiority/inferiority complex towards Takemichi, but the anime explains it more clearly (I talked a bit about it here )

Maybe there's something else that was an anime-only adaptation that made sense, even improved the already existent narration, but I probably don't remember it. These are the ones that imho, are the most important both for the characters and the narration.

I love how Liden Film followed faithfully the story but added "more heart" to it, that's what a good adaptation should do