#inda who is straight

[theygotlost]

Unrecommendation: the Inda series is a series that I think more people should know of, but I can’t recommend it to anyone. It’s a low fantasy Pierce/Hobb-esque saga about politics/pirates, in fantasy early medieval Germany. It’s realistic, it’s got detailed combat and factions within factions, it has a flexible treatment of sexuality that’s a lot more rewarding/honest than the perpetual edging you get from Hobb. It’s also boring and incoherent. Anyone who tries it out will struggle through four bricks of tedious manoeuvring by a cast that immediately switches out any character who develops a personality. There’s not an ounce of humour to lighten the load, the characters have precious few moments of their own despite the number of words wasted on them, and the series fails to distinguish page-filling sidequests from story-relevant events. This would be a half-decent duology, but as four books? I had to skip large portions of the middle just to get through. I missed nothing of substance. and I was a reader who sat down and read all of WoT straight through (another series highly unrecommended). Inda: it’s not bad, but that does not mean that it’s anywhere close to good

eugh sounds pretty dry. its insane how much you can skip and just not miss anything ?! sounds like the editor shoulda told the author to cut a lot of that down

[sk3tch404]

Hoooh boy you're definitely not gonna be prepared for what Nonny and the Schneidermann's are wearing then, because Jesus Christ me and my friend truly went "the only people who would love you are the ones with more or equally atrocious fashion styles" with that one out of the way, let's start tame with Y/N because I forgot a key characteristic of hers :)

-Nothing much to say about Y/N, Beige stop that reveals her midriff and light blue shorts, BIG RED CLOWNSHOES WITH HEELS, also the thing I forgot was that she literally does not have a face and has to manually apply waterproof makeup so that she looks like a normal person everyday. The game starts off with her make up routine actually lmao I think it wasn't much of a problem for her, because most of her face was hidden thanks to her bangs anyway, but she still enjoys doing it

-Here comes our favourite Hackerman meow meow, so like, his outfits that I described before? Still pretty accurate, Mans got Black hoodie, though I think he has grey sweatpants instead of black pants, oh and also he's got BIG PINK BALLERINA SHOES WHOSE STRAPS GO O N T O P OF HIS SWEATPANTS AND END AT HIS LOWER THIGHS O_O I didn't describe them last time, partly because I totally forgot he had them until I saw his traditional character sheet and partly because I didn't see them in the game, since his sprite cuts off right above where the shoe straps end. So yeah, do with that information what you will. Also he had a straight up Lenny face at first, no eyecolor, just ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Also also he wasn't 7 feet 8, he was 9' 2" O_O .

Extra quotes we wrote on his sheet: "giiirl, get back inda BASEMENT" "Are u lost, babeygrill?" "He's got NO lips!" "He's never gonna get a kiss kiss very UGLY!" "No kiss for him"

-J. Schneidermann (because writing his full name would clutter this already long ask oof) so, pink cap with a heart on it uwu. Straight up rainbow dash hair, except short, no face because he anime blushed too hard (he actually has one, unlike Y/N but we just didn't draw it) a long sleeved shirt that's various shades of blue and INTENSE shoulder spike (not horizontally, they go vertically up to his ears) green saggy ass pants that approximately reach his ankles and have GUTSCHI written on it (makes him look like a fucked up hamster ngl) lots of chains on his wrists and pants, ears are pierced, and the most notable detail, he has mismatched shoes that he shares with his cousin, one red high heel and one... black boot or black sneaker I can't tell. He's also smoking a red vape in the pic and has a gold chocker

-B. Schneidermann, black fluffy hair that apparently also covering his face because we didn't draw him one either (rip Schneidermann face enjoyers) mirroring his cousins general outfit, except we can actually see the divide between his legs with the red loose pants he's wearing, rainbow long sleeved shirt, I think he was also supposed to have the ridiculous shoulder spikes but they look more like a high collared cape that's reaaaaaaaally short instead, 1 gold bracelet on each of his wrists and smoking a golden vape too, wears the other part of the mismatched shoe pair. He's also holding a banana and a hotdog (I think it's a hotdog at least) also wears a silver choker

Btw if you're wondering what the hell is up with the Schneidermann shoes, it's inspired by another thing we had to do in German period, be basically got a story from a newspaper that we had to retell in another way, the story we got was "Asian man steals peoples left shoes" like, specifically only the left one, which reminds me that Kim Hojungseo would be shoe thief considering that we drew a shit ton of shoes on his sheet lmao.

Extra writing on Hojungseo's sheet: "I only listen to REAL music!" "Save the fucking turtles b-baka! ùwú" "how can mirrors be real, when our eyes aren't?" "Crying on the inside"

I think I'll probably yassify part of their designs, not too much tho, oughta stay true to their OG vibe after all 😔✊ also this felt like a My Immortal chapter with these lengthy character descriptions, still kinda feel that I don't do em justice, they rlly are the kinda character designs that you simply need to ✨experience✨for yourself to truly understand. Also sorry for clogging up your asks you can tell me when to stop just sayin :,)

-Ren'py anon

Wow.

What an

Experience.

I do need these game files ASAP.

Why are the swedish cousins ESPECIALLY ugly 😭😭😭 a golden vape too??? Bro is living the life. WHY DID YOU GIVE THE WORST AND BEST CHARACTER THE HYPEBEAST AESTHETIC??? HELP

I HONESTLY DONT KNOW WHICH IS WHICH ANYMORE

YOU AND UR FRIENDS GAVE NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS A CHANCE TO BREATHE. YALL REALLY WENT, "Let's give them as much as icks as we can."

The genderfluid aroace urge to accept stoner swedish cousin and hacker nonny for who and whatever the hell they are is strong,

but I have standards I must stick to 💔

The pants on Stoner swedish cousin are questionable to say the least, but hey, at least the got them chains 😎 although his hair is a 🚫off

Hair is a BIG PART of attraction for me so 💀

In another world, he would've looked like that blonde boy from 6teen that was voiced by Chris Mcleans VA

Hacker nonny. Hacker NONNYYYYYYYY MY BOY

At this point, there is only friendship, listening to his funky ass one liners yall wrote, going to his bad private home ballet practices and kicking the back of his knees. Being over 6'8 is an ICKKKKKKKK

I'm 5'5 so, baby this ain't gon work </3

Y/n is awesome. I love how their hair conceals so much of their face, but they just do paint it on anyway. Taking no eyes Y/n to the next level I see 😎

Tbh Y/n and stoner swedish cousin are the only love interests to me now. Y/n should be able to say, "Yeah, humans are fucking FREAKS. I'm the hottest one here tbh." AND GO ON WITH THEIR DAY AS PER USUAL.

Y/n gotta go shoe shopping b4 hand bc WOOOO BOY those clowns shoes ain't it.

Koreaboo bf cousin can go fuck himself bc I hate how he's affiliated with 'Kim hojeongso' or whatever the fuck his name was.

And its okay renpy anon! Send in whenever you'd like! Even though it takes a little while to read through everything and try to include most of everything, I dont mind it all that much!

Thank you for being even comfortable enough to talk about your personal creation with me like this! I enjoy everything you have brought to the table and I'm excited if you have more. Thanks so much Renpy nonnie <33 ilysm

[greatshell-rider]

“...[Sponge] was sitting in the tack room mending a headstall. He’d been doing that all winter. He looked just like his father, so sober and intent on his work. Older than his years. But then Hadand told him that Inda had arrived, and he leaped up, and his face changed into a boy’s face. Full of joy. I’ve never in my life seen such a transformation. He dashed out, running so fast he crashed into a wall. But he just laughed and ran on.”

Hadand realized something she’d been peripherally aware of for half a year: Inda was the only person who crossed in and out of that invisible space Evred surrounded himself with. Inda didn’t even seem to be aware of it. But Hadand could not imagine anyone else daring to hit Evred on the arm.

“Inda needs it,” Barend said. “Then Inda should have come and got it,” Fox retorted. Barend shut up.

have a few more gay ass bitches (feat. fox)

[prose-for-hire]

My babysitter’s in love with a vampire

 Pairing: Spike x chubby!reader or Dracula x chubby!reader

Request: you are spending the night with dawn and then you see all the likes she has on her facebook pics and you get insecure about your weight and then spike swoops in and saves the day? something like that? or hell instead of spike make it Dracula. im feeling rebelious with my request lmao

Requested by: @lilacprincessofrecovery​ - sorry about the wait love 💜

Warning: Insecure reader. Weight mention. Low self confidence.

A/N: Right, so, I’ve been enjoying the interactive element I’ve been using (I hope you have too) and this one’s gonna be little different. You can choose Spike or Dracula (the one that appears in Buffy or one of your choosing if the characterisation fits). Kinda modern au I guess (smart phones/facebook/etc). Reader doesn’t get much love online, but there’s no hate more of an absence of like(s).

You were babysitting. Not to say that you and Dawn weren’t friends, she wasn’t even that much younger than you, it’s just her older sister was very protective. You had been in school with Buffy and you understood - It was just the two of them now, so you had offered good rates to Buffy so she could go out and do whatever it was she needed to do all night while you kept Dawn company. You didn’t judge and you didn’t feel the need to demand to know where she went all night – it wasn’t any of your business.

Now, you were aware of the supernatural element in your town. But you didn’t realise that Buffy and Dawn did too. You all skirted around the subject, trying to avoid mentioning it to each other as much as you could.

You had both been watching a movie when she had excused herself to the bathroom. But she had been a really long time so you went to check she wasn’t feeling sick or anything. When you got upstairs, you saw through the ajar door that Dawn was now in her room taking pictures of herself.

Dawn enjoyed taking selfies and posting them online and she sat on the edge of her bed as you walked in as she was constantly refreshing the page as the likes and comments rolled in. Her most recent picture having brought over 100 likes on her picture so far. This made her bounce around with glee, finally getting the attention she had been craving herself. Who knew all she had to do was take a mirror selfie?

She gushed about all of the praise she was getting and excitedly showed you, waiting for you to shower her with more compliments. But you had gone quiet, thinking of your own page. You barely posted and when you did, you would be lucky to get even a quarter of the likes Dawn would get. Dawn was blissfully unaware of your insecurity. She presumed you weren’t bothered about that kind of thing. She thought you were so cool, so hadn’t even considered that you wouldn’t have as many likes on the app or even mind about it.

She had noticed that you were quiet so she had tried to make you take a picture with her to post on your page. So that you could both show the world that you were spending another Saturday in watching the same option of movies. You let her take the pictures, you smiled and tried not to stare too long at your face beside Dawn’s on the pictures she saved and then sent to your phone. 

After you opened the message and looked at the pictures again, you knew you wouldn’t be posting them. Dawn was confused and a little hurt when you refused to post the pictures, embarrassed over the number of likes (or lack thereof) you knew you would get.

You went quiet as Dawn kept hounding you to post them, missing that you were growing more and more upset. She just kept pushing the matter, she had never been exactly tactful. But it started to really upset you, to even have to admit the growing insecurity that was under the surface, never quite properly hidden.

Dawn finally noticed that you were not in the same good mood you were in earlier. But it was too late, you had started to feel the prickle behind your eyes. The lump growing in your throat. You got up, rushing for the door as Dawn stood up and watched worriedly.

“I-I just need some air”

“You can’t go out- it’s dark-!” Dawn called, but you shook your head and she say the stake concealed in your pocket. Her eyes widened and she just nodded. You were too upset to acknowledge what had just happened. Instead, you just ran off, leaving the younger girl frowning after you before getting distracted by her phone buzzing rapidly with notifications after her recent post had been found by the masses.

You ran out of the front door, your eyes streaming with tears as you just need to get out of there. As if you could run away from the hopeless feeling of not being good enough.

Dracula:

He had been watching you for a while, he had been interested in you after a single glance several nights ago. He had kept a distance, watching and waiting. He could feel that you were going to be the one. The beauty that your face possessed had enchanted him in a way that he was only used to holding over others. Your frame was larger, but that merely meant that there was more of you for him to be enraptured by. More of you for him to worship should you accept his offer. And he had no doubt that you would accept his offer, his love was yours.

You ran past him, hiding under the large tree that loomed above the Summer’s residence. You sat, curling your plump frame up as small as possible as you wept. His eyes never left you as he glided towards you, as if walking on air. He moved his head, unsure as to who could affect you this much. He wanted to tear them to the ground, make them grovel at your feet.

“Your eyes… they cry with the tears of a thousand waterfalls and yet you do not see your power” He said, his voice strong and commanding of everything in the vicinity. He held his hand out and turned it upwards as if to offer you his hand. As he did, you find yourself rising to your feet, still sniffling slightly.

“Who-who are you?” you stutter. Why would this beautiful man give you the time of day (or, night as the case may be).

“Dracula” He stated with such confidence you would never question it. You were drawn to him instantly. But you had been rendered speechless in his presence, “What is the matter, my love?” The affectionate term, although you had never formally met, felt so right. So soothing and it made your tears slowly dry up and regulate your breathing. You reached for his hand that was still outstretched waiting for your touch. Demanding to feel the warmth of your hand in his. Your hand slipped into his so easily, as if they were made for each other. He leaned in, moving your hand towards his lips. You closed your eyes as his lips contacted your hand.

He straightened up slowly and asked you, without once opening his mouth, for you to explain. To reveal why you were so sad. He wanted to put it right any way that he could. He wanted to show you the vision he saw before him.

“I’m- nobody likes me- not the way they like, well, my friend” You admitted, knowing he wouldn’t know who Dawn was. His eyes bored into yours and you felt completely seen for what felt like the first time in your life. He frowned, not aware of such popularity contests that were now evidently so important to the modern world, “It’s all about how many likes you get. How popular you are… and I’m j-just fat”

He shook his head slightly at this, you were not ‘just’ anything to him. Your form rendered him full of awe. Your plus-sized figure the epitome of beauty to him. He had seen you outside after dark leaving a young gentleman who had not been kind to you after a date. Your features had been upturned and it had taken all of his strength not to turn into his other form and follow you home. Instead, he would take care of the man that had hurt you. 

“Your figure fills my vision with the light of the golden sun that I cannot cast my eyes upon… you are radiant beyond compare” He spoke, rather than dwelling on such an insignificant human. He willed you to feel it and you did.

“Look into my eyes and see as I do” He rested his hand against the side of your face, a feather-light touch. His thumb stroked softly along your cheek. His eyes scanning over your face, as if to learn every inch, every quirk of your expression. He wanted to know what every look meant. What every tear told him. You closed your eyes as you allowed yourself to accept his sentiment. Accept that he saw you in this way. There was something deep within that told you he meant every word so intimately.

“Your beauty is beyond this realm, my dear…” He continued, “Please. Join me”

“D-do you really mean it? About someone like me?” You whispered, having to confirm once more.

“Join me, an eternity awaits” He asked, an edge that almost sounded pleading. Although the change in tone would only ever be evident to you. You nodded as he took your hand. You walked away into the night together, knowing there was no thrall. You felt affection. Love.

You wished you could show him even a fraction of the affection and comfort he had laid upon you tonight. As you wished this, he felt it and he knew that time would show him of what he was already sure of. 

Spike:

He had been smoking a few streets away, stalking to get to that tree outside of the summer’s residence. He had adopted that place as his own, you were always spending time there and so he had taken to waiting for you – especially if you weren’t staying over than night. He always waited, watching from the shadows. He wanted to make sure that you were safe, that he could be convinced no harm would come to you. He had long since admitted his feelings for you to himself, he was just trying to formulate a way to tell you of this.

You ran past him, in floods of tears. He rounded back on himself, following you straight away flicking his cigarette into the night. His heart crumbling to see you upset in this way. He caught up with your shapely form, a gentle hand on your upper arm that you looked down at through blurry eyes. You turned, facing his caring eyes. this expression you had to tell yourself couldn’t possibly be the love you wished it was. His eyes boring into yours with so much concern it almost made you cry harder.

“S-Spike?” You frowned, unsure if you had just been imagining it. He had been exactly who you would imagine to be there for you and you were amazed to see him there when you turned. 

“Love, what is it…?” He asked, his voice almost cracking with emotion, “Is there anything I can do?” he wanted to hurt whoever had hurt you this way. Make them pay in all of the worst ways possible. To drink from their skull. He wanted to put it right any way that he could.

“I’m- nobody likes me- not the way they like Dawn” You sniffed, wiping your eyes again, “It’s all about how many likes you get. How popular you are… and I’m j-just fat” You sighed, gesturing to the app that was still open on your phone. His eyes widened in shock, his jaw tensing. He glared at the phone, mad at it for being the reason for your tears. 

How could you ever think that? How could you even talk of yourself that way?

“Don’t be bloody ridiculous!” His voice raising slightly, “You… you really think that makes any difference?” he cocked his head to the side, studying your expression closely. He started to reach his hand, wanting to touch your face, but he swiftly moved his hand and looked away as you looked back to him.

“What?”

“You’re bloody beautiful, y/n. Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted you. Been sodding obsessed with you…” he admitted, his words so honest you almost wept further. You just stared, not believing he could feel the same way you did for him. Your silence made him continue, “So what if you don’t get likes on that stupid bloody face-app-thing? All that counts is the people that matter… and, well, I hope I matter to you love. ‘Cause you really do to me” he insisted. His eyes pleading you to listen to his words. Every syllable the most honest he had been since he first met you. He had longed to say these words. Had long, lonely days or little sleep imagining you by his side. In his arms. 

 “But how could you... about someone like me?” You gestured at yourself and he shook his head with such vigour, as if he could shake these thoughts from your mind in the same way. He clasped his hands around your outstretched wrists. Stopping you from tearing down your beauty with your harsh words. He was shocked you would even question the way he saw you. To him, loving you was as easy as breathing. Hell, easier - he didn’t need to breathe after all.

“You’re the most captivatin’ person I’ve ever laid eyes on… and I’ve seen a lot in my time. Trust me, I love you. Your size. Everything. Just- please- let me show you how much?” Spike said those words as if they were the most important he would ever utter. You had never seen him plead like this before, although you had seen the way he looked at you sometimes. You had thought he was just being kind. But now you knew. 

With every soft brush against your skin, you knew. He held his hand out for you and you took it, the crying had subsided at his hand wrapped around yours comfortingly.

You just hoped you could show your love for him in such a meaningful way. you took his hand with such trust, he almost felt it pulsing through his veins as you clasped your hands with his. You walked away together, into the night. Both of you wishing for your moments together to never end.

[hanazou]

i might try again? bc i made mini poe ones but they are sooo small i want them bigger so everyone knows who it is😏 my friend also crocheted me poe earrings but i lost the little karl !!! ☹️☹️ anyways ..i don’t think poe needs to worry about being the yandere in any situation... not when i’m breathing and know of his existence 😳😳 all jokes ( maybe😎..)

i actually started bsd by watching season 2 episode one 😭 didn’t know who ANYONE was but sobbed my eyes out and no other parts made me cry like that (except yosano’s back story)

printing response... ` - * , ✒

📝 ; Aaawwh crochet? 🥺🥺 That sounds absolutely ah-dore-rha-bowl 🎀 Okay but hear me out--what if instead of earrings which are less noticable, you make hairpins instead? 👀✌🏻

Also imagine going yandere on yandere!Poe hahhshshs I could definitely do that if I loved him hahaha just kidding tho unless?

This may sound kii~inda weird but I didn't shed a single tear because of BSD, not even once 😏 In exchange tho i had a literal heartache in my chest for 2 days straight and zoned out for 30 minutes at least‼️🤩 But all is well because Odasaku is fine 😏✌🏻 My pretty man went through a lot but everything works out I'm v v happy for him ☺💞🌼

[vstranslations]

MY FIRST STORY - アンダードッグ (Underdog) - Lyrics

music video (Youtube) Japanese/Romaji/English lyrics under the cut

物足りない Give me some more 片付けてやるからだからもっと こなしてきた、ガキの頃から 唾 吐かれた事があるから かける時間は他の何百倍 負けず嫌いさ You know that I won't die It's a cypher チャクラ開くさ It's a mind of a Rasta I see a bitch in a crowd and want to know why I want to know why what you want from me You want to come take a ride it's do or die It's you or I dead serious Do I see you walk away from me Then I'm coming to get you I'm known to be The one that runs in the family You better be ready for me もう何回　白い目されたって　七転び八起きして 真っ直ぐ　道を歩いてれば　棒に当たるから 今　四半世紀経った　結果を教えてくれよ 最終的な判定は？ This is who I'm supposed to be

何度も　挑んで　闘い続けてた 自分だけの「夢」叶える為に 一人で交わした　約束だから いつか越えてみせる 吠え続けろ I'm the「アンダードッグ」 I'm 'bout to break, get the fuck up 何時　どの時代になっても 出る杭を打ってくる人はいんだよ 中途半端な奴が　毎日 Ringing in my ear real loud you know what I mean 変わる事を進化とみなす 上には上があるから　目指す Don't test the master I'm a rocker but a rapper A controller

I see a bitch in a crowd and want to know why I want to know why what you want from me You want to come take a ride it's do or die It's you or I dead serious Do I see you walk away from me Then I'm coming to get you I'm known to be The one that runs in the family You better be ready for me

So 雨に打たれて泣いて　涙で地固めて 凍えそうな夜だって　I will stand and fight again 100回　足を止めたって　1回　空を飛べるなら 全て　覆せるな This is who I'm supposed to be 何度も 挑んで　闘い続けてた 自分だけの「夢」叶える為に 一人で交わした　約束だから いつか越えてみせる 吠え続けろ I'm the「アンダードッグ」

Okay... 気にしない　下らない事だらけの中で what are you going to find 比べたり並べたり　小さい世界の中にべったりと付いた 汚れをとってはつけて　とってはつけてを繰り返す I'm a challenger こっから離れた　今　マトに撃ち込むぜ　見てな

遠くの世界を　見に行く為に この首を繋ぐ　鎖を千切る 何度も　挑んで　闘い続けてた 自分だけの「夢」叶える為に 一人で交わした　約束だから いつか越えてみせる 吠え続けろ I'm the「アンダードッグ」 I'm 'bout to break, get the fuck up

--

Mono tarinai Give me some more katazukete yaru kara dakara motto konashite kita gaki no koro kara tsuba hakareta koto ga aru kara kakeru jikan wa hoka no nan hyaku bai makezu kirai sa You know that I won't die It's a cypher chakura hiraku sa It's a mind of a Rasta I see a bitch in a crowd and want to know why I want to know why what you want from me You want to come take a ride it's do or die It's you or I, dead serious Do I see you walk away from me Then I'm coming to get you I'm known to be The one that runs in the family You better be ready for me mou nankai shiroi me sareta tte nana korobi yaoki shite massugu michi o aruitereba bou ni ataru kara ima shihan seiki tatta, kekka o oshiete kure yo saishuuteki na hantei wa? This is who I'm supposed to be nandomo idonde tatakai tsuzuketeta jibun dake no yume kanaeru tame ni hitori de kawashita yakusoku dakara itsuka koete miseru hoe tsuzukero I'm the underdog I'm 'bout to break, get the fuck up itsu dono jidai ni natte mo deru kui o utte kuru hito wa inda yo chuuto hanpa na yatsu ga mainichi Ringing in my ear real loud you know what I mean kawaru koto o shinka to minasu ue ni wa ue ga aru kara mezasu Don't test the master I'm a rocker but a rapper A controller I see a bitch in a crowd and want to know why I want to know why what you want from me You want to come take a ride it's do or die It's you or I, dead serious Do I see you walk away from me Then I'm coming to get you I'm known to be The one that runs in the family You better be ready for me So ame ni utarete naite namida de jigatamete kogoesou na yoru datte I will stand and fight again hyakkai ashi o tometa tte ikkai sora o toberu nara subete kutsugaesu na This is who I'm supposed to be nandomo idonde tatakai tsuzuketeta jibun dake no yume kanaeru tame ni hitori de kawashita yakusoku dakara itsuka koete miseru hoe tsuzukero I'm the underdog Okay... ki ni shinai kudaranai koto darake no naka de what are you going to find kurabetari narabetari  chiisai sekai no naka ni bettari to tsuita yogore o totte wa tsukete totte wa tsukete o kuri kaesu I'm a challenger kokkara hanareta ima mato ni uchi komu ze mite na tooku no sekai o mi ni iku tame ni kono kubi o tsunagu kusari o chigiru nandomo idonde tatakai tsuzuketeta jibun dake no yume kanaeru tame ni hitori de kawashita yakusoku dakara itsuka koete miseru hoe tsuzukero I'm the underdog I'm 'bout to break, get the fuck up

--

I’m not satisfied; give me some more I’ll clean this up, so give me more I’ve been torn down since I was a kid People have spit at me -- so I’ve worked hundreds of hours longer than others ‘cause I hate to lose; you know that I won’t die It's a cypher; chakras opening It's a mind of a Rasta

I see a bitch in a crowd and want to know why I want to know why what you want from me You want to come take a ride it's do or die It's you or I dead serious Do I see you walk away from me Then I'm coming to get you I'm known to be The one that runs in the family You better be ready for me

I’ve gotten cold stares so many times, but I won’t stop til I succeed If I walk straight on my path, some misfortune will find me It’s been 25 years, just tell me how it ends What’s the final verdict? This is who I’m supposed to be

Over and over I kept trying and fighting on I made a promise to myself to fulfill a dream that was all my own, so one day I’ll show you I did it Keep howling, I’m the underdog I'm 'bout to break, get the fuck up

No matter the time or period, there are people who’ll beat down those who stand out Every day, these half-baked assholes are Ringing in my ear real loud, you know what I mean Things that change are seen as evolution Aim to go higher than the the top Don't test the master I'm a rocker but a rapper A controller

I see a bitch in a crowd and want to know why I want to know why what you want from me You want to come take a ride it's do or die It's you or I dead serious Do I see you walk away from me Then I'm coming to get you I'm known to be The one that runs in the family You better be ready for me

So cry as you’re drenched by rain; your tears lay the foundation Even on a night I feel like I’ll freeze, I will stand and fight again If I fly once for every hundred times I’m stuck on the ground, I can’t reverse what everyone thinks of me This is who I’m supposed to be

Over and over I kept trying and fighting on I made a promise to myself to fulfill a dream that was all my own, so one day I’ll show you I did it Keep howling, I’m the underdog

Okay...

I don’t care; in a pile of useless shit what are you going to find? Compared and lined up, stuck inside this little world A cycle of taking off the dirt and being dirtied again I’m a challenger; now I’m gonna fire at that far-away target, just watch

To go see that far-off world, you have to tear off those chains around your neck Over and over I kept trying and fighting on I made a promise to myself to fulfill a dream that was all my own, so one day I’ll show you I did it Keep howling, I’m the underdog I'm 'bout to break, get the fuck up

[kinsbin]

Brother and Sister [Xena/Obi-Wan Kenobi {Platonic}]

Title: Brother and Sister Pairing: Xena/Obi-Wan Kenobi {Platonic/Familial Selfship} Word Count: 2710 Rating: T [Drinking, Mentions of Vomit]

Summary: On an undercover mission to scout out a wanted criminal, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Xena find themselves in a cantina with a little too much alcohol in their system. Well, too much in Xena’s system at least. The confessions it causes Xena to spill to her friend comes as a shock to them both as she tells him feelings she hadn’t told anyone else before. Yet, it brings them closer all the same.

A/N:A piece I did for my platonic ship with Obi-Wan because HE’S MY BROTHER and thought we had a rocky relationship at the start, I grow to love and cherish him as my family ;w;

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

Xena threw her head back, swallowing her fifth shot of hard liquor in one fell swoop and slamming the glass down onto the table with a satisfied sigh. Obi-Wan felt his eyes narrow as he watched the girl before him sink comfortably down to lay her head on one of her arms against the table, humming as her eyes lazily scanned over the crowd with delightfully obvious curiosity. .

Obi-Wan kicked her under the table, making Xena yelp and slam her head a bit too hard into her glass. 

“Obiiiiiii-” Her whine was childish as she pouted, her gaze genuinley misty with near tears as she threw herself forward to tug at his arm, “Why’d ya do thaaaaaaaaath-?”

“Shush,” Obi-Wan ordered carefully, “We’re undercover, remember? You shouldn’t use my name in a place like this.”

“Huh? Oh, right.” Xena nodded as she waved down a passing waiter, tapping the edge of her shot glass with two fingers to signal her need for a refill. She smiled as the Mandalorian woman in the cantina’s uniform gave her a nod and scooped up her glass without another word. She waved as the server disappeared behind the bar and giggled when she saw the look of near fatherly disapproval in his eyes as he watched her form. There was another tap to Xena’s leg, softer this time and with more of a worried reach through the force than pleasant. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough? I doubt you could even see straight enough to identify our target.”

“Puh-LEASE-” Xena giggled out as she accepted her shots from the same Mandalorian server as they passed by, throwing it back as quickly as she had the fifth one, “You said we’re undercover right? You’re not a patron in a cantina unless ONE OF YOU is drunk off their asses. ‘Sides, it’s been a while since I’ve had any good liquor! Can ya just let me have this?”

Obi-Wan sighed, knowing that no matter his orders she was too far gone for him to truly be able to stop her. Her mind was swimming in a groggy field of wet soup, endless and vast in its reach as he prodded gently at her with the force to assure her state of mind. Xena tilted her head from side to side as she stared at the table for a while longer with a spacey curiosity that seemed to overrun her mind. 

The two wore such casual clothes in the night that one would never assume their position as Jedi and Force Sensitive sidekick, Xena mused with a giggle to herself. Indeed seeing Obi-Wan out of his Jedi robes, a pair of simple trousers on and a top that showed off his arms a little too much (Anakin’s defense being that it was the only thing they had available, though she was sure he just wanted to embarrass his master) was a sight that no one would believe should she try and describe it to them.She couldn’t wait to message his lover, though, and describe the sight to her. Lord knows it would make the woman flustered and that, Xena hid her mischievous smirk, was worth this entire mission. A bubble of giggles rose in her throat and she exhaled them with a smile beneath her arm.

“What’s so funny?” Obi-Wan took a sip of his own water as he asked the question.

“You look stupid,” Xena declared, “Your face and those clothes... all so stupid!”

“Are you always this brutally honest when you’re inhebriated?”

“Maybe? Can’t remember! Haven’t been proper drunk since I left Tatooine YEARSSSS ago.”

The mention of her old planet made Xena pause as she leaned forward, touching the rim of her sticky shot glass with moderate fascination as she let the sound of the music and laughter surrounding them overrun her senses for a few, sweet moment of blissful static in the back of her mind. 

“He never liked drinking... We rarely went to cantinas unless it was for trying to find information on the Jedi... even then, it was always to eat more than to get a drink.”

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything. Xena could tell from the tenseness in his shoulders that he knew clearly who she was talking about. Her smile turned something between bitter and sad as she sat up a bit, wobbling through her lack of central balance and leaning her face on the palm of one hand, staring at the Jedi with vague interest as her mouth curled and offered itself to continue with an almost biting done behind her slurred speech:

“You know, he was a really good guy, Obi.”

“He was a sith lord.”

“HE WAS THE MAN I LOVED!”

She yelled this last part, hands slamming down on the table as she flew upwards into a standing position. Xena’s eyes were fire, red and hot and angry so much so that her tattoos seemed to glow along with her frustration. At this point the cantina fell silent as patrons turned to face them both, eyes suddenly all too interested in the spat of friends that seemed to be occurring between them. Obi-Wan cleared his throat and stood up, slamming down his own glass alongside enough currency to cover the tab both of them had accumulated before making his way to Xena with a sigh.

“I think you’ve had quite enough for one night. We’re going back to the hotel.”

“No,” Xena bemoaned, “I want another shot.”

“No,” Obi’s firm voice left no room for fighting him, “You’re going back.”

---

Xena couldn’t walk straight as they left. Obi-Wan settled for wrapping one of her arms over his shoulder and carrying her sideways, like a drunken puppet, out of the cantina and towards the overlooking inn a close distance from the small hole in the wall they had found. All the while Xena didn’t look at him. Her gaze cast itself to the side as she wobbled, mumbling words to herself in languages she was clearly mixing up and slurring with the alcohol in her system. 

Eventually she fell, laying down on the cool concrete and refusing to stand, causing Obi-Wan to groan and simply scoop her up in his arms to carry her the rest of the way.

Xena let him, though her constant wiggling and shifting in his grip was enough of a signal that she wasn’t thrilled. 

No words were spoken until they arrived to their shared room, the two beds on either side sparse in their decoration but comfortable enough. Obi dropped her unceremoniously onto her own bed and ran a hand through his hair, sighing at the chances they had wasted all for one drunk assistant. 

“Next time,” Obi-Wan groaned, “You get one drink and water the rest of the night.”

Xena giggled and rolled in her bed, sitting up and hugging a pillow, tilting her head at the Jedi with a deep sigh.

“You know,” She hummed, “I used to really. REALLY fucking hate you.”

Obi-Wan froze and turned to her, his brows furrowed. He would be lying if he said those words didn’t hurt him just a little bit. Xena looked away before she continued through the pillow pressing ot her mouth.

“When you first found me on Maul’s ship... I lied to you, you know? I saw you kill him... I saw his body fall and I was so. So angry at you that I went to that ship and waited for you because I wanted to kill you myself... But when you came and I felt your... Your force and aura and... I thought ‘whats stopping him from killin you if he finds out what Maul was to you’? So I lied and told you ‘n the council that.... that he kidnapped me. But you know- you know i know you do- that that wasn’t true. He was-”

“Your lover,” Obi finished for her as he saw the tears stain the corners of her eyes, “I know.”

She laughed as her sadness rolled off of her in waves. A hot and warm thing that boiled the air of the force around her as she clung to the pillow tightly and shut her eyes to try and stop any more wetness from accumulating in her ducts. Instead the tears fell anyways, hot and thick down her cheeks as she laughed a little more.

“I hated you for months after that. I hated seeing you... Hated being near you... But... But I... You offered to keep me with you and Annie... Let me stay by you and train even th-though I wasn’t even fully anything but a little force sensitive and... you were so fucking kind to me it made me want to throw up -k inda still does but i also had six shots of liquor...”

Xena winced, suddenly queezy, but she finally opened her eyes, still tear filled and wet but... she was smiling now, wincing at Obi as she tilted her head.

“Now I... don’t hate you, just so you know. I don’t I... You’re the closest thing to family I ever had, really.”

“Family?” The word left Obi-Wan’s lips before he could stop himself, confusion and awe clear in his face.

Xena nodded vigorously as she smiled wider.

“Yeah! Like an annoying older brother who never lets me have any fun.”

“You don’t get ot have ‘fun’ because I let you have fun tonight and the result was six shots and a scene in the cantina we’re supposed to be laying low in.”

“Yeah exactly just like that!”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and Xena giggled, falling backwards onto her bed and taking a long, deep sigh as she pulled her pillow closer to her and shut her eyes.

“I don’t hate you anymore, Kenobi... I just.... Wish that things had been different and I could still know you and have him... I know they can’t be but... As much as I love you....I miss him.”

Obi-Wan had nothing to say to her words. He merely approached her bed and sat at the side of it, running a hand through his friend’s hair as he watched her slowly, surely, pass out into a deep and immovable sleep. 

Obi-Wan didn’t move after that. He simply sat there and watched her rest, the slow and steady breathing of her dream-state the only sign of contentedness he had ever seen on the woman’s face in his life. Even then, there was something troubled about it. something in her brow and within her force that laced itself with a pained sort of pity that only substance abuse could possibly bring up within her as she clenched and unclenched her jaw rhythmically through her dream. 

She hated him, but now she didn’t. The words repeated themselves in his head as he thought of his own feelings towards the other. Similarly familial, he thought of having a sister. Of growing up at her side, protective and careful should any man or woman or creature alike try to hurt her. It was a strange sense of protectiveness that overwhelmed him. A gentle worry for the girl before him as he exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Perhaps if they were truly brother and sister, he could have led her away from the path Maul had set for her.

With her stubbornness, his mind warned snarkily back, he honestly doubted he would have made any successful progress.

Standing, Obi-Wan left Xena to her rest and exited out of the hotel room they shared. She wasn’t going to be feeling well in the morning, that was for certain, and he had to make sure that she at least could function during a call from the other Jedi Maters of their progress. 

---

Xena awoke the next morning with a pain in both her head and her stomach.

She groaned and rolled slightly in her bed, wincing as the light from the window above her assaulted all of the senses that were just too sore for her to function. Reaching aimlessly for a pillow, she flung it over her head and groaned in exhaustion as the hangover began to pump itself excessively in the back of her mind. What the hell happened the other night?

She spent the next few minutes simply thinking, as hard as the task was, about the night and the events of the bar. With Obi-Wan Kenobi and-

Her eyes widened and her face paled. Oh. So that’s what she had said to him, huh?

As if on cue the door to their room opened and Xena felt guilt sink itself fiercely in the pit of her stomach as she tried to bite back tears of shame. Her aura could not be hid as Obi-Wan stared down at the amalgamation of her in the bed, his eyebrow raising as she tried to curl herself into an even smaller ball against his Jedi presence.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan greeted with a small smirk to his lips, “Still in the mood for another shot?”

“I’ll shoot you,” Xena groaned from her pillow despite herself, “Next time cut me off at two shots, please, I’m begging you.”

“I tried that,” Obi-Wan chuffed, “You gave me a less than pleasant gesture with your finger before taking your third.”

“Yeah, that sounds like two-drink Xena.”

There was a long swatch of silence as Obi-Wan walked over and placed a glass of water at the side of her head atop the table, the cool beverage making itself known with the metallic ‘clink’ of the cup as it hit the wood. Alongside it, a couple of small white pills were placed just in arms reach. Xena lifted up one edge of her pillow to squint at the newly arrived items in surprise.

“Some pain killers and water,” The Jedi above her stated, “I figured you’d need them after all of that.”

“Oh... thanks.” Xena murmured as she sat up just enough to take the beverage, popping the pills and chugging the water gratefully as her dry throat heaved in refusal of anymore liquid. God, she was probably going to vomit later, she winced at the thought. 

Obi-Wan smiled before going about his business in their room, and silence engulfed them once again.

Xena swallowed hard as she finally spoke:

“Master Kenobi about... What I was saying the other night... I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Obi-Wan paused and turned to look at her with another raised eyebrow.

Xena didn’t look him in the eyes, hugging her cup close to her as she bit her lip and nodded.

“I talked about... I know he killed your master. I know what he did is wrong... I shouldn’t have shared what I did with you, and I especially shouldn’t have gone out of my place to talk about my personal feelings for you and-”

“That’s quite enough of that.”

Xena startled as Obi-Wan plucked the empty cup from her hands and set it on the nightstand with a sigh. 

“I won’t pretend what you told me didn’t hurt. It did-” Xena winced at the words - “But... You also told me how you see me as a brother. As someone, now, you care for. Was that part true?”

Xena blushed and huffed, nodding her head ‘yes’ as she curled in more on herself. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile.

“And that feeling is mutual. I can’t stop the decisions you’ve made in the past, Xena, but I feel your future brimming with a brighter hope than ever before. Should I have the honor of being in your life to help guide you, well, I won’t say ‘no’.”

Xena stared, slack jawed in shock at the man before her as he ruffled her hair (causing another long pained groan to escape her lips) and returned about his business. She watched his back with curiosity, tilting her head and wincing as more light poured over his form and hurt her eyes and head all at the same time. Then, looking down at her hands and seeing the simple shape of them against the sheets... Xena smiled slightly.

Jedi couldn’t make decisions with their feelings... but it certainly didn’t stop them from having them, now did it?

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes?”

“... Thank-You.”

And he smiled despite himself.

“Of coures.”

[shatteredglassbutterfly]

breath

So, as I sit here and type this whole bunch of shit out, I’m struggling to stay calm and to breathe. There was no trigger or any reason for me to have to feel like an anxiety attack is coming honestly. I’m just chilling. Or maybe, it was the fact that I kept over-thinking what a friend of mine asked me. “What have you been up to lately?” Normal answers would be to say “oh nothing much” or that you went somewhere or did something. Except I won’t tell you because if I did you’d probably think I’m just trying to get attention and be an attention whore or something. I don’t know. I honestly don’t know where along the line that I've fallen so far back down into the depths again for me to feel this way. Thought things were going well. And for the most part, I really believed so. But I guess all I did was just push back and ignore as much as I could. That didn't solve shit. Then there’s the fact that I know I've been feeling progressively worser each day but I still didn't do anything about it because why would I? I get dips in moods on a regular basis. Some are bad for a bit and it passes. And so, seeing its a norm, I didn't think it would lead up to such a huge pile of mess. I just went about my days, just feeling more and more lethargic and shitty. I literally got frustrated at everything and everyone. And I mean, throw-your-controller-out-the-window-punch-some-motherfucker’s-face-in inda of frustrated. You could breathe and I’d wanna rip your throat out. It was that bad. So like how my mood dips frequently, my suicidal thoughts are pretty much the same. Its there everyday and I just brush it off and let it be like its nothing. Because I know I have a lot to live for and I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I know. I have my reasons and what not. I want to live. Or so I thought. So, Sunday rolls around. Normal day with my moods getting progressively worse and my irritation is obvious. I can’t think straight, I can’t reason with anyone about anything and I start doubting everything and everyone in my life. I start talking to my husband who is lying on the bed looking at his phone about some work messages. Things get a bit tense. But hey, which couple doesn't fight? Thing was, this, wasn't a fight. There was no anger or screaming. Nothing. It just got tense. And before I go further, let me bring you back a little as to how everything started to just.. explode. So for you guys who read the stuff I've posted before, you guys already know my in laws live with me. And my husband’s crazy brother. My husband has 2 other siblings apart from this mofo living in my house. His sister is super sweet and super pretty with 3 kids. His oldest brother has 6 kids and I absolutely cannot stand the youngest child. I was okay with everyone else. FYI, I live on the first floor and I have a window ledge outside my window where you can put plants and shit, the area is literally big enough for a grown person to sit and chill. So, while my bro in law and his wife are missing with a few of his children (the older ones), their 2 youngest children thought it was a fucking good idea to peek into my room by climbing up said ledge and laughing about it. Okay, firstly, invasion of privacy. Do not even start telling me “oh but they are kids!” Fuck that and fuck you. When I was a kid, no one and I mean NO ONE in my family or relatives family ever dared to go near someone’s room door as long as its not their own house, let alone climb their fucking window ledge and peep into the person’s room. Its rude and disrespectful and everything. So they peek and after I ask wtf they doing, they run off and come back into the house where they look at me like nothing happened. Now, I don’t have the parents numbers and they were no where to be seen so I tell my father in law to pass the message on to the parents about wtf them 2 mofos just did and all I got back was ‘they were scolded already’. No apology from anyone. Nothing. Absolute shitheads. Anyway,  this sent me over the edge. So getting back to me speaking to my husband. I left the room to go to the toilet and the next thing I know, I’m crying so hard not a single sound leaves my mouth. My chest hurts like a fucking bitch and every fucking thing starts to hurt (emotionally and psychologically). Thousands of thoughts race through my mind and eventually, it stopped at one. Just one. So I sit there, finding reasons not to do what my brain is telling me to do. Can’t find a single reason. Nothing. Just blank. Blank like how its supposed to be when you think of doing something like this. After what seemed like forever, I clean up, walk back to my room where I see my husband laying there looking at his phone still. I sit on my computer chair and I took the pills out. Mmhmm.. I went to that dark place again. I held a bunch of pills in my hand and just stared at it. I kept asking myself “Just one reason not to do it. What reasons did you have in the past that kept you for ending it all?” And like I stated above, I had many reasons to live for. I do. I still do. But for some reason, I couldn't think of any at that crucial moment. So after holding those pills in my hand for a good 20 or 30 minutes, I messaged my best friend and spoke to her about it. About how I’m just so fucking tired and I don’t see a point in trying anymore. About how it seemed like nothing was getting better when I thought I was. About how my mental health was deteriorating the longer I lived here. About how I felt it was better to just end it all. And nothing and I mean nothing seemed more important to me at that point of time than popping those pills and letting it do its thing. I was struggling. I was struggling to be heard. To not drown. And then after speaking to my best friend for a while, I remember what it felt like to think about living on while she was gone. (She had a break down quite recently and she deals with depression etc as well) And I just thought, “how painful it must be to continue living on and moving forward in life even though you lost the one person who could understand you like no one else could”. So I told her I’d talk to my husband and try to calm down. Which I did. I spoke to my husband, calmed down and kept the pills and eventually my husband and I just hugged it out in a much needed embrace. But you see, what scares me is that, I’m here. Very much alive but I still feel like at any time I could snap like a twig and just do it. I've done it before. Its not new. But having so much to live for but not being able to talk myself out of doing such a thing scares me. When I remember this whole incident, all I feel is pain and fear and sadness. Everything just feels so isolated and I feel like I’m about to cry. The words I told my husband kept replaying in my head. “I just wanna go. I just wanna stop trying cause it just seems like its never enough. I just wanna stop feeling and stop thinking. I just wanna go.” And it pains me. I don’t even know why it pains me but it does. It hurts. I don’t get why I feel this way, but I do. And I’m trying to cope. But recent events have showed me that apparently, I’m not coping as well as I thought I was. Its getting bad. I know this feeling and its familiar. But for some reason, I don’t know what to do. Therapy? I don’t wanna rely on it forever. Meds? High chance I’d just overdose again. How else do I cope? I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being me and for being such a person. I really am. I just.. don’t know what else I could do anymore.

- Mel

[songketalliance]

A Daughter’s Duties: Sexism at Home

““Seharian inda nampak,” the adult says when I go out. My curfew is rock solid while a male child’s is fluid. I don’t see them waiting in line for the “going out” application process often. Do they even ask permission? How much shouting, arguing, and negotiating do they have to endure?”

by Haley B

“Payah jadi bini-bini ani.” I feel like I could say this to a stranger in passing and have her agree with me. Don’t get me wrong though. I love being a girl—it’s just that, lately, as I traverse deeper into the realms of adulthood, society around me seems intent on weighing me down due to what I carry between my legs.

Growing up, I remember trying to make sense of the world in parallels. Where I saw a difference (between boys and girls in particular), I would draw parallels to understand it.

For example, I wear a skirt and boys wear pants at school but we wear the same things at PE. Different toilet signs: boys are ordinary and girls wear capes. The buzz cuts on their small heads, the braid that fell on my back. The anatomy between our legs were different, it worked differently too (to my dismay, standing up over the toilet bowl, willing for a clear shot and disappointingly having to wash my legs after) but it’s cool, girls get to chill and sit while peeing.

But that was where the parallels ended for a while for me. Except for the complicated concept of childbirth I found out a little later.

I was always observant as a child and was usually chastised for butting in older people’s conversations, because “kanak-kanak inda boleh menyampuk.”

So I ended up just listening. I listened as older women talk about how painful childbirth is and I, in my kanak-kanak mind, dusted that information off with, well... Boys get circumcised and I hear that’s painful too... not realising girls also get circumcised earlier in my culture  and is made into a smaller deal than boys’.

And then puberty came and things became a bit more complicated.

The line between boys and girls were drawn from my home life. From the adults around us who built this strange platform for being a daughter.

I couldn’t sit and talk just any way that I wanted to. I have become “anak dara” and I can no longer play with my toys and mind my own business.

A son comes home, noisy and hungry. That’s the time ‘dapur berasap’. And when I--the daughter--comes home hungry, I’m supposed to figure that out on my own.

Well, it’s because “kamu (daughters) pandai sendiri-sendiri,” the adult says.

Okay. So when are the boys going to learn?

My time (the daughter) isn’t my own anymore; I can’t chill too long because somehow my tiredness weighs less than that of a man’s.

“Seharian inda nampak,” the adult says when I go out. My curfew is rock solid while a male child’s is fluid. I don’t see them waiting in line for the “going out” application process often. Do they even ask permission? How much shouting, arguing, and negotiating do they have to endure?

I have become a part of the hosting committee in Ramadan and Raya, often dominated by women. Cooking and hosting for family during sungkai. “Banyak pahala,” they tell you (but the boys don’t have to have pahala?), the expectations are as high as if I were Nigella Lawson when really, the reason is simply because “Kau bini-bini!”

During Raya, you gotta prepare the tea, serve the guests and attend to refills. You have to be on stand-by. My brothers do this too but they actually get to volunteer before they’re actually forced to be stationed near the guest living room at all times.

Daughters are suddenly at the forefront of representing your family, but not when it comes to more important matters like voicing out opinions during family meetings--no, you just become the perpetual memo taker.

Suddenly, at raya, people want to know, where do you go to school? How well are you academically? Have I considered X and Y products for that acne? Maybe some weight loss would help too.

Beyond what lay between my legs, my chest, my bottom and my skin, my weight too, seem to hold so much more meaning to the adults around me. 

So many expectations. So many! The teenage me grumbled.

BUT academically! Yes, expectations were there for my brothers too. Phew! Okay.

Oh, but what was this about marriageable ages. I gotta get married at 24? And what of my brothers, when do they wanna marry? Oh it’s up to them?

Unfortunately, it’s hard to bring this up with my brothers. Not because they wouldn’t listen to me, but because I never even considered bringing them into that fold—it somehow feels sacred now to talk about between the womenfolk. This underlying imbalance we’ve been accustomed to. And sadly, I realize lately, even between girls you need to discern who to talk to that could relate to this.

Because like the boys, they seem to think this is just the way it’s supposed to be.

On the other hand, maybe I don’t want to address the issue with my brothers for fear of... what if they think this was the norm too? I guess I didn’t want to confirm this for myself, because talking about it makes it true. Like how you do with harsh truths, even when the sight of reality is glaring right in front of you.

Lately I realise my accomplishments are dimmed by the light of things like my age. I’d convince myself  with how I’ve gotten a degree, and university for me was so difficult, and I now have a job in this economy. 

"BUT you’re 27 and by that time your mum already had 3 children," a voice bellows from the depth within me.

And I look at the daughters that have become mothers, entering into this wheel. It’s not enough if you’ve reached a high ranking position at your job--you could be THE boss for all it’s worth...but can you cook? Are your children happy and getting straight A’s?

Why do we have to meet so many standards, answer to so many people?

Why is our worth conditional to so many things?

At a sungkai family gathering, I sat and observed the older women tending to their husbands, bringing the men plates of food and glasses of drinks.

Wondering why the merit of preparing food for your partner, tending to your children and looking good while at it, fell solely on the girls’ team.

I sat alone, looking at this 'normality' sighing, “Payah jadi bini-bini ani.”

by Haley B

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[atmanviv]

1. Marijuana makes you an animal. (I am not saying animals are bad stuffs). Rather they are cool and lovely, except tiger and such which eats us up). If your sense is not under your control, there is no difference between you and an animal. When I say “an animal” you don’t hunt and scare.....but JUST ANIMAL. You lose control means, you lose control over your thinking power and thoughts. Though we ordinary men have hardly any control over our thoughts.

2. Road-accidents happen from surrounding factors, not necessarily from straight vehicles. So, while riding, continuously watch the surroundings (if you can) (meant for Indian condition).

3. You must be the voice of people. When people listen you, you must be so entertaining and invigorating to them that they will feel that it is their inner voice. Then you’re a leader. This is politics.

4. Do you want to work for strong democracy in India? Then preach Vivekananda's message to one and all. This state of things exists because Indians are yet to be educated. Can't you see the vast amount of illiteracy all around. Rahul Gandhi and Congress Party of Inda had shouted all around that poor people would be paid Rs.6000/- every month. And when I talked to poor, ordinary men, 90% of them were unaware of this scheme by Congress Party. You struggle to get justice for you and for people, but once you realize you need to give up this struggle with the machinery of democracy, give that up. You know that politicians are like this. Don't go against politicians. Go to people, to one person, make him a little better. If you will go on, serving like this, all things you are struggling after will come straight in few centuries. It is not essential to be a member of a political party to serve the nation.

5. You can't talk again and again to someone about the latter's bad habits and how to change it. It might irritate him. Throw the ideas, and let the result take care of itself. You can't do anything much about it. Leave the result unto the lord within him; and know that success will follow.

6. If for some reason you’ve been losing exercise of late and it is because of that an unhappy mood comes to you. Initially you may not find why you are unhappy. You may be thinking there may be of so many reasons. Simply resume walking.

7. People who do physical work every day, are healthy, and their diet will be different from those who don’t do hard work and are sick.

8. Even in past, without information technology life was quite busy too. One must give a bit of time to his mind to think for itself, instead of grasping information from phone or computer on and on. Once you decide to give your time to something, you do well with it, and it improves. So the secret is what you give your time to.

9. Wealth, property, money separates people; takes away our attention from love and goodness. Money, wealth is one of the major reasons why two persons get separated. The problem starts when man thinks money is greater than man. Whereas a person is more important than all the wealth of the world. For holy people, men are valuable than all the wealth. Other's body is more important than this body.

10. Desire makes you neglect the present and go for it. Instead of trying to get political power, why not to try to build character of these people who are already in power and the people who elect the former.

11. This is the nature of man, that where he'll find love, there he'll return that in love. Give love, and love will come back in multiplied way.

Giving love is serving, giving service and help.

12. Sitting a lot in the morning or evening, daily, might cause depression. Doing physical work like working in a garden or land or some kind of physical work removes depression.

# After a little weight lifting, you smile more, and is more positive.

13. "As far as we can we must give up".

Evening should look quite calm and quiet. People might misunderstand for not pursuing entertainment from TV, Internet, etc., or food from street, alcohol or other junk forms of pleasure.

14. Write naturally without imitating or being an impostor like an expert or habitual one.

15. Much reading is bad. What is needed is practice.

16. A teacher is to act as a doctor. The doctor doesn't prescribe the same medicine to all kinds of disease. All students are not in the same stage. Each need particular separate attention.

17. When you look at the end, things look impossible. Take care of the means.

# How can you say that it'll not work? Have you got any previous experience with that? As experience is the only teacher.

Do not look at the end/result.

# Take care of the means and the end will take care of itself. Take care of making men, then, those men will take care of any future eventuality or circumstances.

18. A Yogi can only help you on the path of God. A Yogi will hardly help you to fight with the world for material gain, to live safely.

19. The greatest philosophy, religious principles should be combined with all the practical activities. Work it out both in theory and in practice.

20. Let not a ripple conquer the mind. Every moment you're a new creature.

21. Do not desire anything. Whatever work and duty I've at hand, I need to do that well.

22. You must be sincere. Life means sincerity. It is (sincerity) needed not just for success but for life itself.

23. Working in a farm land or such laborious job is a very very fortunate job. In India people misunderstand if you work there and think you were a backbencher, illiterate man. But these fortunate men who work in land either as farmer or other cultivation are very happy people, and healthy too.

24. Our pleasure and interests change as we grow. As a child you might have enjoyed a lot something, but may not like so today. And what you enjoy today, may not like that tomorrow.

25. Selfishness is a poison-----do not let it enter into your body.

7303 At one time you are conscious what diseased food do to your body. The problem is that next moment we forget it; and consume again. This forgetfulness is man's enemy. Use information technology to defeat this disease of forgetfulness. No sensible person would consume disease knowing in full awareness that he/she is consuming disease.

# If I'm not unselfish at any point, it is because I had forgotten the teachings of Vivekananda on "Unselfishness'. So is with all other values taught by Vivekananda. This forgetfulness is a devil. Tackle it well by placing the teachings of Vivekananda in front of you time and again.

2. Students should start believing themselves. Believe that you can, and you will.

If you will go on saying that "you're an idiot", "you are an idiot"….... You remain as an idiot. If you say I can't remember; you really can't. Start saying that you're god, you are god, and that 'you can', 'you can' ….. then you will see yourself doing that.

# The whole world might discourage you. Even bad teachers and bad colleagues will discourage you and would tell you that you are good for nothing. Why? Either they are jealous or are told by some forces to behave like that to you. So after listening to your surroundings for years and years together you might start believing that you are really good for nothing. In India some people think the best way to move forward is by kicking the next person standing near you. So someone could think of rising only by pulling another’s leg, destroying the latter.

Nothing comes without sacrifice. Can you sacrifice your pleasure? And in that place give your time on your work? For the time being you can forget everything and give all your concentration to the matter you are studying. You need to have faith that you have the full potentiality like any other best student. And if one can understand and study that well, so can you. Never weaken yourself. Never say that I'm less than any colleagues. The moment you lose faith, your problem begins. Always say, "I've a strong mind". The moment you say "You're weak", that moment you are gone.

One can be best at something by constant practice. Someone has achieved something only by months and months and years after years of practice. Practice will make you what you are.

# Students should be careful in taking advice from anyone and everyone. A student needs to have faith on himself/ herself because he/she knows what's best for him/her. You're your best advocate, you know well what study you should pursue.

# Is our education system a big scam? The other day we found in news how two students were declared topper in Bihar which is a scam. In one other example we found one student evaluating his own paper. In such situation, those students who are really sincere, shouldn't feel guilty for not becoming the topper, for we know how it all works, how corruption has engulfed our society.

3. First obey. Then, you'll be what you are supposed to be, and what you can be.

4. The aim and motive of a Sanyyasin is to do good to all beings, excluding all other things from his life.

5. Impatience is a disease. If you think you can understand, achieve, do, perform everything within minutes, it is a symptom of a disease called impatience.

6. "We are never attached where we do not find pleasure."

Do not judge everything from the point of view of pleasure.

The greatest thing, the greatest work may be that which may not be giving us pleasure.

7. Things which I've learned from Cyclone Fani: pass more time in nature, in silence, in dark open sky if possible. Pass some time with real people, and not always hooking at your phone.

8. A good lawyer is one who can investigate well with originality, with whatever material is placed before him. In that case, lawyers are to learn from people belonging to so many professions. A scientist, investigates well. One can learn from a scientist how he finds the truth. Journalists who write investigative journalism, are very very talented. Even lawyers should learn from them how they present the fact and the truth.

Dealing with an habitual offender

Habitual offenders really fear a good prosecution. If there would not be court, law, prosecution, etc, these criminals would not wait a second to burn you alive. Even these kinds of criminals might be close relatives to you. Anyway lord Krishna was also the nephew of Kansa, the demon king. Try your best to stay as far away as you can from these kinds of greedy and selfish people who can do any form of evil for properties, money. If their shadow would falls on you, you will become unholy. Take a holy bath in a pure river or sea and f*** off these ass*****.

Every adverse situation is an opportunity to show in practice some of the virtues which you claim to possess......the virtues of patience, un-attachment, courage, etc.

Speak the truth, practice the truth, people will love that. Because truth is power. Truth is God.

Dealing with enemies 1. While dealing with enemies, do not take decision thinking of some remote improbable possibilities. 2. No matter what sorrow you face in life, do not resort to faction-mongering to achieve something. 3. You are not to go against anything. …...And then the oneness will come. Then you'll take everything with you, every theory, every scripture, every person..... 4. Enemies should be blessed for so many things, reasons. They show you the reality of this world. Initially you become anxious when enemies start laughing and intimidating you.

Can something prevent your enemy to kill you? It is the power of goodness which protects you. Even do not get jealous of your would-be killer. Be humble. If you've got to die, you've got to die. Let the murderer live life happily thereafter. Does your enemy preventing your path of progress, the path of truth! If not why should you be unhappy with your enemy. I'm holding the present and it seems the enemies are holding my past defects. The more you'll give to the enemy, the more they've to give back to you.

If the enemy has decided to suffer on and on, let it suffer.

5. Just preach tolerance, as you yourself is tolerating. While creating awareness about evil of life, do not degrade the soul of any vulnerable person.

6. The Mafia which keeps an eye on you will try to create illusion on you that you are not being watched.

7. Avoid cowardice. And any form of retaliation will simply be an act of cowardice. You think deeply, you'll find it to be so. Now when I find enemies attempting to mentally torture me, though alertness comes to me for a sec, but then it is the enemies which reminds me to remember the sayings of Swami Vivekananda. The enemies should be thanked first for this. When I remember the sayings of Vivekananda, heavenly joy fills my heart. Now I see things in different way and this way is the true way. Now there is more happiness and joy.

The enemies could bring the evils of life to be used against you; you might take it up as a challenge and opportunity to destroy these evil------but you are to learn that evil is destroyed only by the growth of good.

8. Sacrificing a lot is necessary for protection of weak ones. This is not just sacrifice but inborn duty too. My ammunition is Vivekananda's message; creating the awareness, rousing the knowledge........ My job is to spread his message. This is the ammunition which I'm to hold all my life.

9. Our body many times plays mischief with us. So is our mind. He who couldn't control the body and mind and the senses is an animal for the time being. You can practice to control it. Observe your feelings, how your body reacts. Rather you manipulate that. Shift that energy to some other source. Whenever you're tempted to react in certain way, by the provocation or taunt of your enemies, watch your feelings and redirect those feelings to some positive work. E.g., if you feel like doing something, get up, clean you room, street, etc. In this way, enemies work as trigger to some good job.

18. Forgive all their transgressions, and when you'll forgive, you'll see a Vivekananda in the sinner; and then will come real sympathy. Because behind all, there is that infinite soul, there is that innocence.

19. By truthfulness, practicality, and listening to truth, it is possible to tackle organized criminals who day and night plan against you.

20. Never fear to listen to the words of those who hates you. You get very very valuable information free of cost.

21. Be an example for one and for all. Let your life be an example. This life is a chance. Take stand on goodness. Goodness is strength. Try not to become impure. Purity is more important than wealth, money, property. Goodness is more important than money. Peace is more important than ego. People never support injustice. People support Dharma.

22. Girls are good motivators for boys to do something. If girl says a boy to build Taj Mahal, there are indeed few maniacs who will contemplate how to build one. Boys try to turn the impossible possible just because the girl want that to happen. If the girl tells the maniac “Can you do espionage (kill/ open fake Facebook account) for me?”. Maniac nods in affirmative.

So watch out. The person with whom you are chatting online may be a spy of your enemy and collecting information to put you in trouble.

Following Swami Vivekananda 1. Because of Guru, the progress has been faster. Had there not been discovery of truth by Vivekananda and made over to us, it would have taken thousand lives like us to find these truths.

2. Don't take any intoxication like Marijuana. Because Vivekananda has said to keep ourselves off from all weakness; everything which makes you weak physically, mentally..........

3. I need not preach the words of Vivekananda. If I strongly believe I would follow and people can see it in action. Then I’m in a comfortable position to preach what I do.

4. See Vivekananda within everyone. This whole universe is one. How can there be difference! They are like this because they don't have the right thing. Therefore, go, and spread the Vivekananda’s message; spread any way you can.

5. Each and every instruction of Vivekananda is like a "check-list". You should bring everything to these teaching to ascertain the truth.

6. Just keep on living, thinking on the messages of Vivekananda --- this is the greatest religion. This is what Vivekananda says us to do. Because realization alone is the soul of religion. And realization comes from thinking.......therefore think only pure thoughts.

7. Human beings constantly do one work, viz., "thinking". So how about doing this work in right way. On this work depends our life. Either we do it rightly or we peril our life. Vivekananda says us, whenever we think we should think good thoughts and great thoughts. how many of us can really do that?

8. Find out the oneness in everything. Find out that you are one with every single atom, every single word of this universe and beyond it.

9. Every moment of this life should be a moment of resistance. You must resist the “less-good” thoughts each and every moment and fill your thinking system with the holy and pure thoughts.

Perfect chastity in thought and nothing less of it.

# Real knowledge preached by Vivekananda is the only thing which you need to arouse in others. No need to talk of any other rubbish.

# By following the teachings of Vivekananda, it is possible to remove stress from life.

11. Practicing an ideal reforms your character. It makes you what you should be.

12. Can man think evil things? Even though man thinks some “less-good” things, he thinks so in righteous way and never in evil way.

13. Love comes out of (perfect knowledge). Why do I feel less disturbed when someone tries to taunt or tease (my ego). It is because I've perfect knowledge. I've no ego.

Read, realize, practice the sayings of Vivekananda to get this perfect knowledge. And when you'll get this knowledge, love will come to your heart.

14. Vivekananda shows you who you are; what man is; what our nature is.

15. When you see "less good", why don't you first think what Vivekananda has said on “evil”? After that you may think something else.

16. The message of Vivekananda is my guide for life.

17. We must have sympathy for people. Whereas we’ve the message of Vivekananda, we understand, realize, and follow, but these people hardly have such knowledge.

18. Understand the importance of which Vivekananda has given to devote our whole life to serve and train even a single person.

19. Keep that infinite love within you which everyone is in need of. It is very difficult to find such a person who will open his heart for you. But you can be that person for everyone. Always stay ready to stretch out that helping and loving hand. Don't think from beginning that you can't help. Always think that you can.

# All love is for eternity. It is not just for one life, for one century. If one get many love in one life instead of feeling sorry he/she should feel fortunate.

20. One thinks of "less good' thoughts on and on, worldly matters on and on, because these are what affects you. Follow the sayings of Vivekananda, so that evil thoughts won't make you worse.

# Our thoughts cling on to the best. If I think less-good thoughts, it is because it is best for me. Man needs to be given "more-good" instead of "less-good"; "better" instead of "good".

The message of Vivekananda should be accessible to mind so that mind will be prevented from filling itself with trash.

Therefore, keep tracking yourself with the message of Vivekananda. It's a life-long process.

21. The secret to all success, all power, all goodness, etc....is to think incessantly only pure and holy thoughts.

22. Why to go on thinking worthless things, when experience is the only teacher.

# It won't do much good to be anxious even for a moment, getting too worry.......because experience is the only teacher. You'll not know a single word of truth until you experience it in your very soul.

# Never fear. Because experience is the only teacher.

# Why are you reading any word of truth? Do you know you shall not understand a word of truth until you experience it yourself?

And what you experience in the depths of your soul is realization.

Do you know that it's not by talking, theorizing, argumentation........but REALIZATION.

Therefore the question is how to get experienced? OR, how to reach realization?

# Not talk, not argumentation, but realization, and that lies in ourselves and comes from thinking.

Therefore think only pure thoughts.

The realization of love comes to none unless one becomes a perfect Gyani.

For Gyana refers to the message of Vivekananda and practicing these teachings one after another.

Practice is the basis. Because Gyana comes out of practice. Experience comes out of practice. Because we'll know nothing unless we experience it in our very soul.

Practice will make you what you are.

23. Love will come to your heart when you obey Vivekananda—that divine love will come.

24. Here is the god I was looking for. Now I don't require anything. I just need to follow Vivekananda. Now there is no misery for me. Even happiness is not to be cared for. He is my salvation. For me he is alive and with me every moment.

25. Consciously, or unconsciously, we are all striving for perfection.

# All is for the best.

# Everything works for the best.

26. Don't you find how badly people need Vivekananda's message. Think how great their life would not turn into once they start following Vivekananda's message.

# My shield is Vivekananda's message. I'm to show this shield first whenever I'm confronted with any challenge. I'm to show this, in both good and bad situation.

27. Always manifest this personality of your. You're the ever pure, the all-perfect..... you're all love. You've a heart as vast as infinite sky. You've love as infinite as knowledge itself. You're that balanced person.......that ever understanding.

28. The same experience (bad or good), struggle, blows, come to all. But one who follows Vivekananda will tackle it in one way, and those ordinary people will follow it in another way.

29. If one good and great man can make another good and great ---this is the solution for all the evils of this world. This is the way to lessen miseries from this world.

30. If being a prophet is the goal, then may be all the people of this world are working, struggling and striving to become a prophet.

31. "Do not look to others for help".

Here is the clear command which says not to look to others for help. Also, "Do not seek help from anyone. We are our own help.

32. For me Vivekananda's message is above all law, all morality. I may follow any law, any morality, any standard, strategy, etc., but I must start with Vivekananda and end with Vivekananda.

# The message of Vivekananda is as necessary to me as oxygen and water. When I don’t have it, the result is suffering, continuous suffering.

33. Atman is not an unintelligible, wired super-power which is infinite, immortal and all other qualities which Swami Vivekananda has instructed. If we have intelligence, it is because of Atman; if we have beauty, brain, eyes, heart, etc, etc, it is all because of Atman.

# Enjoyment blocks the growth of Atman.

# The goal of each soul is freedom.

The goal of each soul is mastery-freedom from the slavery of matter and thought.

The goal of each soul is mastery of external and internal nature.

# Always talk about this Atman.

Always hear about this Atman.

Always reason about this Atman.

# I'm the spirit.

The nature of this spirit is purity. This spirit is perfect.

This spirit is infinite in power.

The nature of this spirit is blessed.

# The soul within you is pure, is perfect, is infinite in power, is blessed.

Nature of soul is pure, perfect, infinite in power, blessed, immortal, all-powerful, bliss, peace, unchanging, resplendent, effulgent, ever-pure.

We are not this body. We are spirit.

We are (all) pure.

We are (all) perfect.

# This world is so big. Look at the Bay of Bengal. Its huge and huge. Its just one of the seas like many other in this world. So there are mountains, plains, rivers and so on. And this world of ours is just like a tiny sand on the beach of this Universe. Then, how can we say that this world doesn't exist but only Atman!! Atman is the reality. I'm finding it hard to see. But then if I can't see it now I need to wait for it. Will I drink poison if I'm dying of thirst? Hence let me think of Atman only. It might get difficult, but it is the only way.

34. The task is to rouse the knowledge of Vivekananda within men, so that whenever experience would come, they would be able to make the standard use of the experience, and prevent repeating of uneasy incidents.

35. Whenever fear comes, and it seems it will almost take over me, I refer what Vivekananda has said on "fear". I read one message, try my best to realize it, and meditate and make myself one with it......then fear just vanishes. "It is knowledge which eliminates fear".

# Unflinching faith on teacher! Even if while following the teacher you lose your hand and leg, you are to have unbound faith on Guru and on yourself too. Even if the whole world says it is impossible and laughs at you, if you believe in Guru and in yourself and in God, you will succeed.

36. Do not desire for power. Just be an instrument in the work Vivekananda has laid before you.

37. Do not see wickedness in others. Because you see outside what you're inside. This world is our mirror.

38. It is better to practice more than to read more (the message of Vivekananda).

Practicing the ideal one after the another, only one ideal at a time, do really helps. I feel more confident; my personality is more strong than before.

39. Love is struggle of a human soul to find its complement.

Love is struggle of a human soul to find its stable equilibrium.

Love is struggle of a human soul to find its infinite rest.

40. Money is not power. Goodness is power; holiness is power.

# Practice holiness. If you'll be holy you'll be sympathetic to others.

41. All knowledge is within us, therefore nothing will hide from us.

42. "It is through the feelings that the highest secrets are reached'.

The more you follow the above word, the more you'll know, the more you'll work, the more you'll love.

43. All work is same, whether you work for yourself or work for someone else.

But working only for your pleasure and enjoyment is selfishness. And selfishness is evil.

44. Oneness: Everyone is with me, does not matter if they're with or against me.

45. "Manifest the divinity within you, and everything will be harmoniously arranged around it".

That manifestation is the manifestation of unselfishness, of love, of sacrifice, and all those high ideals which Vivekananda has taught

[lodelss]

“All Hell Broke Loose.”

When Kishon McDonald saw the video of George Floyd’s murder at the hands of four officers from the Minneapolis Police Department, he could tell it was going to turn the country upside down.   “I knew it was going to catch fire,” he said.   McDonald, a former sailor in the U.S. Navy, watched over the following days as demonstrations against police brutality spread from Minneapolis to cities and towns across the country, eventually reaching Washington, D.C., where he lived.   On June 1, he heard that people were planning to peacefully gather at Lafayette Square, a small park directly across from the White House, and decided to join them. By then, police had begun to attack and beat demonstrators in Minneapolis, New York, and others in states everywhere, escalating tensions as smaller groups broke into shops and set fire to police cars.   But when McDonald arrived at Lafayette Square, he found a crowd of a few thousand people cheering, chanting slogans, and listening to speeches. Washington D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser had imposed a 7 p.m. curfew after clashes the night before, but that was still an hour away.   “Everybody there was like, it’s alright, we’re going to be here until 7 o’clock,” he said. “It was a very good energy.”   It wouldn’t be long before that would change.

Kishon McDonald, 39, originally of Cleveland, Ohio, poses for a portrait in his neighborhood in Washington, D.C., June 13, 2020.

Allison Shelley for the ACLU

In the days following George Floyd’s murder, President Trump had focused his attention on the relatively small number of people who had damaged property, threatening to use the “unlimited power of our military” and tweeting “when the looting starts, the shooting starts.” What the protesters gathered in Lafayette Square that day didn’t know was that he was planning to stage a photo opportunity at a nearby church that evening.   Unbeknownst to McDonald, as he and the others chanted “hands up, don’t shoot,” the U.S. Park Police and other law enforcement agencies were just out of sight, donning riot gear and checking the weapons they would shortly use against the crowd to pave the way for the president’s walk to the church.   At 6:30 p.m. — half an hour before Washington D.C.’s curfew — dozens of battle-clad officers rushed the protest, hurling stun grenades and firing tear gas canisters, rubber bullets, and pepper balls into the crowd. McDonald says there were no warnings, just an onslaught of violence.   “All hell broke loose,” he said.   As the deafening explosions from the stun grenades gave way to thick clouds of tear gas, terrified protesters began to run from the batons and riot shields that police were using to force them out of the square.   “It was just straight fear. Everybody was scared and running for their lives,” he said.   McDonald tried to plead for instructions from the advancing officers, asking them what they wanted people to do. Instead, one threw a stun grenade at him.   “As it exploded, hot shrapnel hit my leg,” he said. “It felt like somebody put a cast iron skillet on my leg, it was just so hot. I started jumping up and down trying to get away from it, but shrapnel was going everywhere.”   Suffocating tear gas enveloped him and the other protesters, making them gasp and cough as they ran down the street.   “I saw a young boy, he must have been about 15, and he was choking a lot. Somebody put a shirt over his face and kind of ran him out,” he recalled.   McDonald had seen enough. Bruised from being hit with riot shields and with his vision still blurred from the tear gas, he walked home. In a phone interview with the ACLU, he said that the experience had made him more wary of attending protests, but it also illustrated why he’d gone there to begin with.   “It seems like everything is getting to be a military type thing in our society, and we were protesting to calm that down,” he said. “And the message we got is, ‘No, we aren’t calming down.’” “I hope someone gets held accountable,” he added.

****

Law enforcement officers clearing protesters from Lafayette Square in Washington, D.C., June 1, 2020.

Derek Baker

In the wake of George Floyd’s death, Americans poured into the streets to voice their condemnation of police brutality against Black people. The weeks that followed were a milestone in American history, with protests and displays of solidarity reaching towns as small as Cadillac, Michigan, and cities as large as Atlanta. As months of a painful COVID-19 lockdown gave way to incandescent fury over the killing of Floyd and the violent response of the Minneapolis Police Department towards the initial protests, a few people went as far as burning police precincts or destroying upscale shopping districts.   The vast majority of protests, however, were almost entirely peaceful.   Still, police departments across the country deployed staggering levels of violence against protesters. On social media, the world watched a near-instantaneous live feed of police in dozens of cities firing tear gas, rubber bullets, and other projectiles into protests, using pepper spray against protesters and journalists alike, and beating people with batons.   This widespread and indiscriminate deployment of what are often called “less-lethal” weapons – LLWs – injured countless people, some severely.   In Austin, Texas, 20-year-old college student Justin Howell suffered a skull fracture after being shot in the head with a “beanbag round” filled with lead pellets. Linda Tirado, a journalist and photographer, lost her left eye to a “rubber bullet” fired by police in Minneapolis. In Seattle, 26-year-old Aubreanna Inda nearly died after a stun grenade exploded next to her chest. According to Carl Takei, a senior staff attorney at the ACLU’s Trone Center for Justice and Equality who focuses on police practices, this widespread and violent use of LLWs during the George Floyd uprising was an attack on the protesters’ constitutional right to free speech.   “There’s just no justification under the existing Fourth Amendment framework for the use of these weapons,” he said. “And it’s happening over and over again, with patterns that are so similar across the different cities.”   For years these weapons were referred to as “non-lethal.” But in practice, they have a long history of causing serious injuries and deaths.   A 2016 report by the International Network of Civil Liberties Organizations analyzed 25 years of available data on the use of LLWs by law enforcement across the world. It found that between 1990 and 2015, “kinetic impact projectiles” — a category that includes rubber bullets and beanbag rounds — caused at least 1,925 injuries, including 53 deaths and 294 instances of permanent disability.   Tear gas, which is banned for use in warfare under the 1925 Geneva Protocol, injured at least 9,261 people over the same time period, including two deaths and 70 permanent disabilities.   The report also found that LLWs are most commonly used to stamp out political protests and shut down aggressive demands for greater rights.   According to Takei, even the term “less lethal” downplays the damage they can inflict.   “Beating somebody with a baseball bat, as long as you’re not hitting them in the head or other sensitive areas of the body is ‘less lethal,’ but it’s still incredibly violent,” he said. During the civil rights and anti-war demonstrations of the 1960s, police used tear gas and other LLWs extensively to disrupt and disperse protests. But after three federal commissions found that abuse of those weapons provoked aggressive responses by protesters and contributed to a cycle of violence, they fell out of favor with U.S. law enforcement as a method of controlling crowds. According to the Marshall Project, in subsequent decades, some police departments adopted a “negotiated management” approach to protests, working with organizers in advance to establish ground rules meant to prevent violence. But any movement toward de-escalation evaporated in the wake of large anti-globalization protests that took place during a 1999 World Trade Organization meeting, in an event that would come to be called the “Battle for Seattle.” In a prelude to how many police departments would later approach the George Floyd uprising, Seattle police attacked the mostly non-violent protesters with LLWs, provoking a handful to respond aggressively in kind.   “The response of a lot of police departments after that was, well if some people won’t act as predicted, we should have a hyper-aggressive response for everybody,” said Takei. “But when police adopt this type of response to Black-led protests against police violence, they are repeating a pattern of brutality that goes back to the origins of American policing in Southern slave patrols.”   Now, as outcry over the indiscriminate use of LLWs against Black Lives Matter protesters mounts, some municipalities are weighing restrictions on the weapons. After the ACLU sued the Seattle Police Department in early June for its violent response to protests in the city, a judge ordered police there to cease using the weapons against peaceful demonstrators, saying they had “chilled speech.”   Days later, Seattle’s city council voted unanimously to prohibit their use against protesters. Legislators in Atlanta and other cities have also proposed similar bans.   The ACLU spoke to a number of people who were attacked with LLWs by police during demonstrations over George Floyd’s murder in recent weeks. This is how they described their experiences.

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Gabe Schlough at his home in Denver, Colorado.

Jimena Peck for the ACLU

Gabe Schlough wasn’t surprised that the Minneapolis Police Department had killed another one of its Black residents. He lives in Denver now, but he’d gone to college years earlier in Minneapolis. Just before he graduated, he’d been shot in the back with a stun gun by police who entered his home and tried to arrest him in a case of mistaken identity.   Schlough had been invited to a protest at downtown Denver’s Capitol Building that night, but instead he decided to drive his motorcycle up into the mountains with a friend.   “In one of the areas where people were hiking and snowboarding and skiing down I saw three Black people, and I was just fucking happy,” he said. “I was like, thank God not every Black person thinks they need to be at the Capitol right now.”   But when he got back home later that night and saw images of the Denver Police Department’s response to the protest, he felt his blood start to boil.   “We can’t even give doctors and nurses facemasks, but we can give our police access to militarized weapons that are exceedingly more expensive and hard to create than the protective mechanisms we need for health care workers,” he recalled thinking.   Schlough has a degree in public health anthropology, and he’d worked in health care across the world, including a stint in an Ebola clinic in Sierra Leone. He had medical training and had participated in protests before, so he decided to defy the curfew along with a few friends to see if he could offer help in case anyone got hurt. Donning his face mask along with sunglasses to protect his eyes, Schlough set off towards the Capitol Building.   When he arrived, he saw a crowd of two or three hundred people facing down a line of police.   “They were standing just a little bit more than shoulder to shoulder apart with full riot gear, with their face shields and full protective armor on,” he recalled.   Schlough moved up toward the front of the crowd. Behind him, somebody set a pile of garbage on fire. That was all the police needed to begin their advance. As they moved forward, they shot canisters of tear gas into the crowd and tossed stun grenades.   “I was going around and telling people who didn’t have eye coverings to watch their eyes and protect their face,” he said. “Just running up and down the line and getting people educated, like this is happening and this is what you need to know.”   As a canister of tear gas landed next to him, Schlough bent down to try and cover it with a traffic cone so the gas wouldn’t spread. Suddenly, he felt sharp blows to his face and chest.   “A shock hit me and my head popped up,” he said. “I felt like somebody had punched me in the chest.”   Schlough had been shot with rubber bullets, although he didn’t know it yet. As he fell back further into the crowd of protestors, someone told him he was bleeding.   “You need to go to a hospital,” they said. “Your face is falling off.”   Another bystander pulled out his phone and showed Schlough his injury. The bullet had left a gaping wound on his chin, and blood was pouring down onto the front of his shirt. In retrospect, Schlough says he thinks he was specifically targeted, and that police knew exactly where they were aiming when they shot him.   He and a friend left and started walking toward a nearby hospital where he did volunteer shifts. But when they arrived, Denver police were also there.   “There were cop cars there and more pulling up, and I understood that it was not a safe place for me to get treated because of the amount of police presence there,” he said.   Instead, Schlough had to drive outside Denver to be treated at a different facility. Doctors cleaned his wound and gave him 20 stitches. More than a week later, part of his chin is still numb. He worries that he may have suffered nerve damage.   Last Christmas, while visiting his mother in Wisconsin, he says one of her friends asked him what the most dangerous place he’d ever been was.   “I told her that I’m the most scared when I’m in the U.S. and around a police officer,” he said. “Because I know that no matter who I am or what I’ve done in my life, I can be shot and killed, and nothing will matter.”

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Toni Sanders, 36, poses for a portrait at her home in Washington, D.C., June 13, 2020.

Allison Shelley for the ACLU

Toni Sanders arrived at Lafayette Square along with her wife and 9-year-old stepson in the late afternoon of June 1 – the same day that Kishon McDonald was there. Their son — identified in court papers as J.N.C. — had been watching the news over the preceding days, and the family had been having difficult conversations about George Floyd and why there was unrest rocking the country.   “We spoke about Aiyana Stanley-Jones and Tamir Rice, and people right here in D.C. who had been killed by Metropolitan Police — Raphael Briscoe, Terrence Sterling, Marqueese Alston, and explained to him that was why people were protesting,” Sanders said.   He said that he’d like to accompany Sanders and his mother to Lafayette Square.   “I assured him that it would be safe because it was a peaceful protest and that we would leave before the curfew started,” she said.   At first, she was glad that she’d agreed to bring him to what felt like a “community environment.” People in the square were passing out snacks, chanting, and kneeling in solidarity with George Floyd.   “Everything started out wonderful, it was a great experience,” she recalled. “We even took a picture when we first got down there just to remember the date we all stood together.”   Then, the attack began.   “I just heard the loud bah bah bah bah, and smoke started to fill the area.”   Sanders was immediately terrified for her young stepson.   “I just started screaming to my family, run, run, run,” she said. The three sprinted away from the sound of detonating stun grenades and the shrieks of injured protesters. After making it a few blocks away, they stopped to catch their breath and check in with one another.   “He said, ‘I can’t believe I just survived my first near-death experience.’ And it literally broke my heart because there’s honestly nothing I could say to him. I couldn’t tell him this wasn’t a near-death experience.”   Sanders was furious that police hadn’t warned protesters to disperse before violently clearing the park. If they had, she said, she would have quickly brought her stepson to safety.   “If we had been asked to either move back or leave, we would have. We would not have protested that because we have a child that we must look out for,” she said.   After the attack, Sanders’ son expressed anger and hurt over how police had treated them. Sanders had refused to allow the experience to scare her away from attending protests, but now when she left the house he would ask her to promise that she wouldn’t die.   “I wanted to show him that even though you’re afraid, if someone is trying to take your rights and do you wrong, you have to stand up for who you are and what you believe in,” she said.   The couple decided to put him into therapy to work out how that day affected him. Sanders says he told his therapist that he thinks that it’s the end of the world now, and that the government is at war with Black people.   “Now we have to have uncomfortable conversations with him about systemic racism, overt racism, covert racism,” she said. “And it’s horrible to have to take that innocence from him.”   Along with Kishon McDonald, Sanders is one of two plaintiffs in an ACLU lawsuit over the attack on Lafayette Square protesters that day. Over the phone, she recites the poem ‘If We Must Die’ by Claude McKay.   We’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack, Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!   “We’re here to show you that we’re still citizens, and we’re going to exercise our rights, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

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Alexandra Chen, a law student at Seattle University and a plaintiff in the lawsuit Black Lives Matter Seattle-King County v. City of Seattle, poses for a portrait in Seattle, Washington on June 15, 2020.

David Ryder for the ACLU.

On May 30, first-year law student Alexandra Chen marched to a police precinct in downtown Seattle along with a few hundred other demonstrators. It was the second protest she’d attended, the first being the day before. When they arrived at the precinct, there were police in riot gear out in front, with others standing in the windows and watching the crowd from above.   “People were clearly agitated, but I didn’t see anyone really try to push the ticket,” she said. “Folks were just crowding around and leading chants.”   A few scattered water bottles along with a road flare were thrown at the precinct, but aside from that, Chen said nobody in the crowd was signaling that violence was coming.   “I remember thinking to myself, ‘You know, this would be a great opportunity for someone to come out with a megaphone and make a statement about how you understand why we’re so angry and you want to work with us on how to fix this,’” she said.   Instead, just like in Washington, D.C., Denver, and dozens of other cities, the Seattle Police Department began to throw stun grenades and tear gas into the crowd.   “There was no warning at all,” she said. “It was just absolute chaos.”   When the first stun grenade detonated near her, she felt a “deep percussive feeling” in her chest. People began to scream and run as tear gas filled the street. As she and her friend tried to move away from the precinct, she noticed another young woman desperately trying to find fresh air.   “There was a gap in a wall that was about six to eight inches between buildings, and she was trying to escape the gas. It looked like she was trying to crawl into that space, and you could hear her retching,” she said.   Tear gas is by its nature indiscriminate. It can’t be controlled or targeted to incapacitate specific people. As soon as a canister or grenade is launched, it becomes the property of the wind. Young and old alike are subject to its effects, which Chen says go from “uncomfortable to intolerable in a short amount of time.”   Chen says that when the group first arrived at the precinct, nearly everyone was wearing masks to prevent the spread of COVID-19. But after the tear gas was fired, people began to rip them off as they choked, coughed, and gasped for air.   “First, you think to yourself, “Okay, I can tolerate this,’” she said. “You don’t really expect that it’s going to get worse, but it does. It moves deeper into your face and once it gets into your sinuses, everything it touches burns.”   All around her, people were calling out for their friends and loved ones through the thick smoke.   “It was hard to tell which direction to run because when they threw the canisters, they rolled down the hills spewing tear gas the whole way. So effectively, you had not just the immediate area in front of the police station gassed, you had the whole block, and when you’re in the middle of it, you can’t tell where it ends,” she recalled.   After Chen and her friend emerged from the cloud, a medic nearby helped flush her eyes out with water, and the two walked back to her apartment. She is now a plaintiff in an ACLU lawsuit brought against the Seattle Police Department over its use of tear gas and other LLWs.   “I don’t care what they want to say about how people are violent,” she said. “What I saw was peaceful protesters met with an immediate and overwhelming show of force to get us to disperse.”

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Jared Goyette stands in front of the remains of the Minnesota Police Department’s Third Precinct.

Brandon Bell for the ACLU

Jared Goyette moved to Minneapolis five years ago to be close to his daughter. As a journalist, he’d covered protests over police brutality before — first at the Mall of America during the Ferguson uprising, and then later after the killing of Philando Castile.   Over the years, he’d developed ties to the city’s activist community, and in the hours after the video of George Floyd’s murder was released, his phone began to buzz.   “I started getting texts from different Black activists in the Twin Cities,” he said. Goyette could tell that Floyd’s killing would lead to unrest, and before long national news outlets began reaching out to ask for his help covering the story.   On May 27th, two days after Floyd’s death, Goyette heard the sound of helicopters buzzing over the Minneapolis Police Department’s Third Precinct. The Precinct had already become a flash point for demonstrations, and Goyette decided to head to the area to see what was happening.   “When I started surveying the scene, it was entirely different from anything I’d seen in my previous years of covering protests against police violence in Minnesota,” he said.   Several hundred people had surrounded the precinct, and officers in riot gear were standing on the roof firing tear gas and rubber bullets at them. Goyette had his camera and notepad with him and, along with other journalists there, was visibly covering the standoff in his role as a reporter.   He saw that a young man had been shot in the head with a ballistic projectile, and moved towards him to try and see if he could do anything to help.   “He was just writhing on the ground in clear, severe pain,” he said. “People were screaming, ‘Call 911.’”   Goyette noticed that his ten-year-old daughter had texted him to ask where he was, so he moved off to the side to text a response. Suddenly, he was on the ground.   “There was a searing pain in my eye,” he recalled. “It wasn’t like I was hit and then I fell, it was like I’m standing and then wait, I’m not standing and everything is black.”   Goyette had been shot in the head with a rubber bullet. His nose was bleeding and his eye was swollen and black. People moved towards him to help, but tear gas began to flood the area.

Policing the Press: A Journalist on the Frontlines

Journalists covering protests against police brutality across the country are facing an influx of violence, suppression efforts, and arrests by police…

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He managed to woozily make his way to safety, and after gathering his composure for a few minutes, found his car and drove home. Initially, he didn’t think he needed medical attention, but his girlfriend told him he had to visit a community clinic. Health workers there said that if he’d waited longer for treatment, he might have lost sight in that eye.   He says he thinks it’s unlikely that officers didn’t know he was a journalist when they shot him.   “I wasn’t running, I wasn’t chanting,” he said. “Protesters aren’t normally dressed in a dress shirt and slacks.”   Goyette wasn’t the only journalist who was targeted by Minneapolis police that week. Many documented being pepper sprayed despite clearly identifying themselves as reporters. Others were arrested, gassed, threatened, or ⁠— like Goyette ⁠— shot with rubber bullets. In a clip that went viral, CNN reporter Omar Jimenez was arrested on live television, despite the fact that he was accompanied by a full news crew with cameras and sound equipment.   “I worry that the sort of ‘fake news’ doctrine is leading to journalists being targeted,” said Goyette. “And this is the first time that I think we saw that at a systematic scale.”   On June 3rd, the ACLU filed suit against the City of Minneapolis over the attacks on journalists that were carried out by MPD officers. Goyette is the lead plaintiff in the case.   “I don’t want this to come out wrong, but I feel angry, and a little bit afraid,” he said. “The Police Chief made an apology to journalists who were fired upon, but there wasn’t anything behind that apology. No promise to investigate and hold people accountable, nothing other than a sentimental gesture. And I fear that people are just going to move on.”

Published June 23, 2020 at 11:42PM via ACLU https://ift.tt/3eu2a5Y

[greatshell-rider]

i really really really gotta reread inda quartet to rehash the terms of fox’s deal with detlev cuz. i think. now that i know more about norsunder i will understand more of what fox got himself into. which is very important to me now. fox what did you get yourself into. fox,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

[nancydhooper]

“All Hell Broke Loose.”

When Kishon McDonald saw the video of George Floyd’s murder at the hands of four officers from the Minneapolis Police Department, he could tell it was going to turn the country upside down.   “I knew it was going to catch fire,” he said.   McDonald, a former sailor in the U.S. Navy, watched over the following days as demonstrations against police brutality spread from Minneapolis to cities and towns across the country, eventually reaching Washington, D.C., where he lived.   On June 1, he heard that people were planning to peacefully gather at Lafayette Square, a small park directly across from the White House, and decided to join them. By then, police had begun to attack and beat demonstrators in Minneapolis, New York, and others in states everywhere, escalating tensions as smaller groups broke into shops and set fire to police cars.   But when McDonald arrived at Lafayette Square, he found a crowd of a few thousand people cheering, chanting slogans, and listening to speeches. Washington D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser had imposed a 7 p.m. curfew after clashes the night before, but that was still an hour away.   “Everybody there was like, it’s alright, we’re going to be here until 7 o’clock,” he said. “It was a very good energy.”   It wouldn’t be long before that would change.

Kishon McDonald, 39, originally of Cleveland, Ohio, poses for a portrait in his neighborhood in Washington, D.C., June 13, 2020.

Allison Shelley for the ACLU

In the days following George Floyd’s murder, President Trump had focused his attention on the relatively small number of people who had damaged property, threatening to use the “unlimited power of our military” and tweeting “when the looting starts, the shooting starts.” What the protesters gathered in Lafayette Square that day didn’t know was that he was planning to stage a photo opportunity at a nearby church that evening.   Unbeknownst to McDonald, as he and the others chanted “hands up, don’t shoot,” the U.S. Park Police and other law enforcement agencies were just out of sight, donning riot gear and checking the weapons they would shortly use against the crowd to pave the way for the president’s walk to the church.   At 6:30 p.m. — half an hour before Washington D.C.’s curfew — dozens of battle-clad officers rushed the protest, hurling stun grenades and firing tear gas canisters, rubber bullets, and pepper balls into the crowd. McDonald says there were no warnings, just an onslaught of violence.   “All hell broke loose,” he said.   As the deafening explosions from the stun grenades gave way to thick clouds of tear gas, terrified protesters began to run from the batons and riot shields that police were using to force them out of the square.   “It was just straight fear. Everybody was scared and running for their lives,” he said.   McDonald tried to plead for instructions from the advancing officers, asking them what they wanted people to do. Instead, one threw a stun grenade at him.   “As it exploded, hot shrapnel hit my leg,” he said. “It felt like somebody put a cast iron skillet on my leg, it was just so hot. I started jumping up and down trying to get away from it, but shrapnel was going everywhere.”   Suffocating tear gas enveloped him and the other protesters, making them gasp and cough as they ran down the street.   “I saw a young boy, he must have been about 15, and he was choking a lot. Somebody put a shirt over his face and kind of ran him out,” he recalled.   McDonald had seen enough. Bruised from being hit with riot shields and with his vision still blurred from the tear gas, he walked home. In a phone interview with the ACLU, he said that the experience had made him more wary of attending protests, but it also illustrated why he’d gone there to begin with.   “It seems like everything is getting to be a military type thing in our society, and we were protesting to calm that down,” he said. “And the message we got is, ‘No, we aren’t calming down.’” “I hope someone gets held accountable,” he added.

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Law enforcement officers clearing protesters from Lafayette Square in Washington, D.C., June 1, 2020.

Derek Baker

In the wake of George Floyd’s death, Americans poured into the streets to voice their condemnation of police brutality against Black people. The weeks that followed were a milestone in American history, with protests and displays of solidarity reaching towns as small as Cadillac, Michigan, and cities as large as Atlanta. As months of a painful COVID-19 lockdown gave way to incandescent fury over the killing of Floyd and the violent response of the Minneapolis Police Department towards the initial protests, a few people went as far as burning police precincts or destroying upscale shopping districts.   The vast majority of protests, however, were almost entirely peaceful.   Still, police departments across the country deployed staggering levels of violence against protesters. On social media, the world watched a near-instantaneous live feed of police in dozens of cities firing tear gas, rubber bullets, and other projectiles into protests, using pepper spray against protesters and journalists alike, and beating people with batons.   This widespread and indiscriminate deployment of what are often called “less-lethal” weapons – LLWs – injured countless people, some severely.   In Austin, Texas, 20-year-old college student Justin Howell suffered a skull fracture after being shot in the head with a “beanbag round” filled with lead pellets. Linda Tirado, a journalist and photographer, lost her left eye to a “rubber bullet” fired by police in Minneapolis. In Seattle, 26-year-old Aubreanna Inda nearly died after a stun grenade exploded next to her chest. According to Carl Takei, a senior staff attorney at the ACLU’s Trone Center for Justice and Equality who focuses on police practices, this widespread and violent use of LLWs during the George Floyd uprising was an attack on the protesters’ constitutional right to free speech.   “There’s just no justification under the existing Fourth Amendment framework for the use of these weapons,” he said. “And it’s happening over and over again, with patterns that are so similar across the different cities.”   For years these weapons were referred to as “non-lethal.” But in practice, they have a long history of causing serious injuries and deaths.   A 2016 report by the International Network of Civil Liberties Organizations analyzed 25 years of available data on the use of LLWs by law enforcement across the world. It found that between 1990 and 2015, “kinetic impact projectiles” — a category that includes rubber bullets and beanbag rounds — caused at least 1,925 injuries, including 53 deaths and 294 instances of permanent disability.   Tear gas, which is banned for use in warfare under the 1925 Geneva Protocol, injured at least 9,261 people over the same time period, including two deaths and 70 permanent disabilities.   The report also found that LLWs are most commonly used to stamp out political protests and shut down aggressive demands for greater rights.   According to Takei, even the term “less lethal” downplays the damage they can inflict.   “Beating somebody with a baseball bat, as long as you’re not hitting them in the head or other sensitive areas of the body is ‘less lethal,’ but it’s still incredibly violent,” he said. During the civil rights and anti-war demonstrations of the 1960s, police used tear gas and other LLWs extensively to disrupt and disperse protests. But after three federal commissions found that abuse of those weapons provoked aggressive responses by protesters and contributed to a cycle of violence, they fell out of favor with U.S. law enforcement as a method of controlling crowds. According to the Marshall Project, in subsequent decades, some police departments adopted a “negotiated management” approach to protests, working with organizers in advance to establish ground rules meant to prevent violence. But any movement toward de-escalation evaporated in the wake of large anti-globalization protests that took place during a 1999 World Trade Organization meeting, in an event that would come to be called the “Battle for Seattle.” In a prelude to how many police departments would later approach the George Floyd uprising, Seattle police attacked the mostly non-violent protesters with LLWs, provoking a handful to respond aggressively in kind.   “The response of a lot of police departments after that was, well if some people won’t act as predicted, we should have a hyper-aggressive response for everybody,” said Takei. “But when police adopt this type of response to Black-led protests against police violence, they are repeating a pattern of brutality that goes back to the origins of American policing in Southern slave patrols.”   Now, as outcry over the indiscriminate use of LLWs against Black Lives Matter protesters mounts, some municipalities are weighing restrictions on the weapons. After the ACLU sued the Seattle Police Department in early June for its violent response to protests in the city, a judge ordered police there to cease using the weapons against peaceful demonstrators, saying they had “chilled speech.”   Days later, Seattle’s city council voted unanimously to prohibit their use against protesters. Legislators in Atlanta and other cities have also proposed similar bans.   The ACLU spoke to a number of people who were attacked with LLWs by police during demonstrations over George Floyd’s murder in recent weeks. This is how they described their experiences.

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Gabe Schlough at his home in Denver, Colorado.

Jimena Peck for the ACLU

Gabe Schlough wasn’t surprised that the Minneapolis Police Department had killed another one of its Black residents. He lives in Denver now, but he’d gone to college years earlier in Minneapolis. Just before he graduated, he’d been shot in the back with a stun gun by police who entered his home and tried to arrest him in a case of mistaken identity.   Schlough had been invited to a protest at downtown Denver’s Capitol Building that night, but instead he decided to drive his motorcycle up into the mountains with a friend.   “In one of the areas where people were hiking and snowboarding and skiing down I saw three Black people, and I was just fucking happy,” he said. “I was like, thank God not every Black person thinks they need to be at the Capitol right now.”   But when he got back home later that night and saw images of the Denver Police Department’s response to the protest, he felt his blood start to boil.   “We can’t even give doctors and nurses facemasks, but we can give our police access to militarized weapons that are exceedingly more expensive and hard to create than the protective mechanisms we need for health care workers,” he recalled thinking.   Schlough has a degree in public health anthropology, and he’d worked in health care across the world, including a stint in an Ebola clinic in Sierra Leone. He had medical training and had participated in protests before, so he decided to defy the curfew along with a few friends to see if he could offer help in case anyone got hurt. Donning his face mask along with sunglasses to protect his eyes, Schlough set off towards the Capitol Building.   When he arrived, he saw a crowd of two or three hundred people facing down a line of police.   “They were standing just a little bit more than shoulder to shoulder apart with full riot gear, with their face shields and full protective armor on,” he recalled.   Schlough moved up toward the front of the crowd. Behind him, somebody set a pile of garbage on fire. That was all the police needed to begin their advance. As they moved forward, they shot canisters of tear gas into the crowd and tossed stun grenades.   “I was going around and telling people who didn’t have eye coverings to watch their eyes and protect their face,” he said. “Just running up and down the line and getting people educated, like this is happening and this is what you need to know.”   As a canister of tear gas landed next to him, Schlough bent down to try and cover it with a traffic cone so the gas wouldn’t spread. Suddenly, he felt sharp blows to his face and chest.   “A shock hit me and my head popped up,” he said. “I felt like somebody had punched me in the chest.”   Schlough had been shot with rubber bullets, although he didn’t know it yet. As he fell back further into the crowd of protestors, someone told him he was bleeding.   “You need to go to a hospital,” they said. “Your face is falling off.”   Another bystander pulled out his phone and showed Schlough his injury. The bullet had left a gaping wound on his chin, and blood was pouring down onto the front of his shirt. In retrospect, Schlough says he thinks he was specifically targeted, and that police knew exactly where they were aiming when they shot him.   He and a friend left and started walking toward a nearby hospital where he did volunteer shifts. But when they arrived, Denver police were also there.   “There were cop cars there and more pulling up, and I understood that it was not a safe place for me to get treated because of the amount of police presence there,” he said.   Instead, Schlough had to drive outside Denver to be treated at a different facility. Doctors cleaned his wound and gave him 20 stitches. More than a week later, part of his chin is still numb. He worries that he may have suffered nerve damage.   Last Christmas, while visiting his mother in Wisconsin, he says one of her friends asked him what the most dangerous place he’d ever been was.   “I told her that I’m the most scared when I’m in the U.S. and around a police officer,” he said. “Because I know that no matter who I am or what I’ve done in my life, I can be shot and killed, and nothing will matter.”

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Toni Sanders, 36, poses for a portrait at her home in Washington, D.C., June 13, 2020.

Allison Shelley for the ACLU

Toni Sanders arrived at Lafayette Square along with her wife and 9-year-old stepson in the late afternoon of June 1 – the same day that Kishon McDonald was there. Their son — identified in court papers as J.N.C. — had been watching the news over the preceding days, and the family had been having difficult conversations about George Floyd and why there was unrest rocking the country.   “We spoke about Aiyana Stanley-Jones and Tamir Rice, and people right here in D.C. who had been killed by Metropolitan Police — Raphael Briscoe, Terrence Sterling, Marqueese Alston, and explained to him that was why people were protesting,” Sanders said.   He said that he’d like to accompany Sanders and his mother to Lafayette Square.   “I assured him that it would be safe because it was a peaceful protest and that we would leave before the curfew started,” she said.   At first, she was glad that she’d agreed to bring him to what felt like a “community environment.” People in the square were passing out snacks, chanting, and kneeling in solidarity with George Floyd.   “Everything started out wonderful, it was a great experience,” she recalled. “We even took a picture when we first got down there just to remember the date we all stood together.”   Then, the attack began.   “I just heard the loud bah bah bah bah, and smoke started to fill the area.”   Sanders was immediately terrified for her young stepson.   “I just started screaming to my family, run, run, run,” she said. The three sprinted away from the sound of detonating stun grenades and the shrieks of injured protesters. After making it a few blocks away, they stopped to catch their breath and check in with one another.   “He said, ‘I can’t believe I just survived my first near-death experience.’ And it literally broke my heart because there’s honestly nothing I could say to him. I couldn’t tell him this wasn’t a near-death experience.”   Sanders was furious that police hadn’t warned protesters to disperse before violently clearing the park. If they had, she said, she would have quickly brought her stepson to safety.   “If we had been asked to either move back or leave, we would have. We would not have protested that because we have a child that we must look out for,” she said.   After the attack, Sanders’ son expressed anger and hurt over how police had treated them. Sanders had refused to allow the experience to scare her away from attending protests, but now when she left the house he would ask her to promise that she wouldn’t die.   “I wanted to show him that even though you’re afraid, if someone is trying to take your rights and do you wrong, you have to stand up for who you are and what you believe in,” she said.   The couple decided to put him into therapy to work out how that day affected him. Sanders says he told his therapist that he thinks that it’s the end of the world now, and that the government is at war with Black people.   “Now we have to have uncomfortable conversations with him about systemic racism, overt racism, covert racism,” she said. “And it’s horrible to have to take that innocence from him.”   Along with Kishon McDonald, Sanders is one of two plaintiffs in an ACLU lawsuit over the attack on Lafayette Square protesters that day. Over the phone, she recites the poem ‘If We Must Die’ by Claude McKay.   We’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack, Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!   “We’re here to show you that we’re still citizens, and we’re going to exercise our rights, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

****

Alexandra Chen, a law student at Seattle University and a plaintiff in the lawsuit Black Lives Matter Seattle-King County v. City of Seattle, poses for a portrait in Seattle, Washington on June 15, 2020.

David Ryder for the ACLU.

On May 30, first-year law student Alexandra Chen marched to a police precinct in downtown Seattle along with a few hundred other demonstrators. It was the second protest she’d attended, the first being the day before. When they arrived at the precinct, there were police in riot gear out in front, with others standing in the windows and watching the crowd from above.   “People were clearly agitated, but I didn’t see anyone really try to push the ticket,” she said. “Folks were just crowding around and leading chants.”   A few scattered water bottles along with a road flare were thrown at the precinct, but aside from that, Chen said nobody in the crowd was signaling that violence was coming.   “I remember thinking to myself, ‘You know, this would be a great opportunity for someone to come out with a megaphone and make a statement about how you understand why we’re so angry and you want to work with us on how to fix this,’” she said.   Instead, just like in Washington, D.C., Denver, and dozens of other cities, the Seattle Police Department began to throw stun grenades and tear gas into the crowd.   “There was no warning at all,” she said. “It was just absolute chaos.”   When the first stun grenade detonated near her, she felt a “deep percussive feeling” in her chest. People began to scream and run as tear gas filled the street. As she and her friend tried to move away from the precinct, she noticed another young woman desperately trying to find fresh air.   “There was a gap in a wall that was about six to eight inches between buildings, and she was trying to escape the gas. It looked like she was trying to crawl into that space, and you could hear her retching,” she said.   Tear gas is by its nature indiscriminate. It can’t be controlled or targeted to incapacitate specific people. As soon as a canister or grenade is launched, it becomes the property of the wind. Young and old alike are subject to its effects, which Chen says go from “uncomfortable to intolerable in a short amount of time.”   Chen says that when the group first arrived at the precinct, nearly everyone was wearing masks to prevent the spread of COVID-19. But after the tear gas was fired, people began to rip them off as they choked, coughed, and gasped for air.   “First, you think to yourself, “Okay, I can tolerate this,’” she said. “You don’t really expect that it’s going to get worse, but it does. It moves deeper into your face and once it gets into your sinuses, everything it touches burns.”   All around her, people were calling out for their friends and loved ones through the thick smoke.   “It was hard to tell which direction to run because when they threw the canisters, they rolled down the hills spewing tear gas the whole way. So effectively, you had not just the immediate area in front of the police station gassed, you had the whole block, and when you’re in the middle of it, you can’t tell where it ends,” she recalled.   After Chen and her friend emerged from the cloud, a medic nearby helped flush her eyes out with water, and the two walked back to her apartment. She is now a plaintiff in an ACLU lawsuit brought against the Seattle Police Department over its use of tear gas and other LLWs.   “I don’t care what they want to say about how people are violent,” she said. “What I saw was peaceful protesters met with an immediate and overwhelming show of force to get us to disperse.”

****

Jared Goyette stands in front of the remains of the Minnesota Police Department’s Third Precinct.

Brandon Bell for the ACLU

Jared Goyette moved to Minneapolis five years ago to be close to his daughter. As a journalist, he’d covered protests over police brutality before — first at the Mall of America during the Ferguson uprising, and then later after the killing of Philando Castile.   Over the years, he’d developed ties to the city’s activist community, and in the hours after the video of George Floyd’s murder was released, his phone began to buzz.   “I started getting texts from different Black activists in the Twin Cities,” he said. Goyette could tell that Floyd’s killing would lead to unrest, and before long national news outlets began reaching out to ask for his help covering the story.   On May 27th, two days after Floyd’s death, Goyette heard the sound of helicopters buzzing over the Minneapolis Police Department’s Third Precinct. The Precinct had already become a flash point for demonstrations, and Goyette decided to head to the area to see what was happening.   “When I started surveying the scene, it was entirely different from anything I’d seen in my previous years of covering protests against police violence in Minnesota,” he said.   Several hundred people had surrounded the precinct, and officers in riot gear were standing on the roof firing tear gas and rubber bullets at them. Goyette had his camera and notepad with him and, along with other journalists there, was visibly covering the standoff in his role as a reporter.   He saw that a young man had been shot in the head with a ballistic projectile, and moved towards him to try and see if he could do anything to help.   “He was just writhing on the ground in clear, severe pain,” he said. “People were screaming, ‘Call 911.’”   Goyette noticed that his ten-year-old daughter had texted him to ask where he was, so he moved off to the side to text a response. Suddenly, he was on the ground.   “There was a searing pain in my eye,” he recalled. “It wasn’t like I was hit and then I fell, it was like I’m standing and then wait, I’m not standing and everything is black.”   Goyette had been shot in the head with a rubber bullet. His nose was bleeding and his eye was swollen and black. People moved towards him to help, but tear gas began to flood the area.

Policing the Press: A Journalist on the Frontlines

Journalists covering protests against police brutality across the country are facing an influx of violence, suppression efforts, and arrests by police…

Listen to this episode

He managed to woozily make his way to safety, and after gathering his composure for a few minutes, found his car and drove home. Initially, he didn’t think he needed medical attention, but his girlfriend told him he had to visit a community clinic. Health workers there said that if he’d waited longer for treatment, he might have lost sight in that eye.   He says he thinks it’s unlikely that officers didn’t know he was a journalist when they shot him.   “I wasn’t running, I wasn’t chanting,” he said. “Protesters aren’t normally dressed in a dress shirt and slacks.”   Goyette wasn’t the only journalist who was targeted by Minneapolis police that week. Many documented being pepper sprayed despite clearly identifying themselves as reporters. Others were arrested, gassed, threatened, or ⁠— like Goyette ⁠— shot with rubber bullets. In a clip that went viral, CNN reporter Omar Jimenez was arrested on live television, despite the fact that he was accompanied by a full news crew with cameras and sound equipment.   “I worry that the sort of ‘fake news’ doctrine is leading to journalists being targeted,” said Goyette. “And this is the first time that I think we saw that at a systematic scale.”   On June 3rd, the ACLU filed suit against the City of Minneapolis over the attacks on journalists that were carried out by MPD officers. Goyette is the lead plaintiff in the case.   “I don’t want this to come out wrong, but I feel angry, and a little bit afraid,” he said. “The Police Chief made an apology to journalists who were fired upon, but there wasn’t anything behind that apology. No promise to investigate and hold people accountable, nothing other than a sentimental gesture. And I fear that people are just going to move on.”

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8247012 https://www.aclu.org/news/criminal-law-reform/all-hell-broke-loose via http://www.rssmix.com/

[kiyosims]

Get to know me tag

Ty for the tag @daylightdisco ♥

Rule: Tag 10 followers that you would like to know better.

NAME - Veronika

NICKNAME - Roni

STAR SIGN - Pisces 

SEXUALITY: Straight (But gay when it comes to Chloe and Rachel lmao)

HOGWARTS HOUSE - Gryffindor

FAVORITE ANIMAL - Never thought about that but wolves rock pretty much

CATS OR DOGS - I’m a dog person :D

DREAM TRIP - Egypt and exploring the pyramids 

DREAM JOB - I guess I’d love to be a journalist

WHEN I MADE THIS ACCOUNT  - Probably 3 years ago? I honestly dont remember xD

REASONS FOR URL - Well.... the Sims.... and my passion for it idk. It’s pretty obvious :D

I tag…

@justdenver @kat88833 @inda-sims @muraisawesome @simtress @reverieinsimlish @thenarwhalpickle @sommeliersims @ninjaofthepurplethings @pixelddump (and eyerone who reads this and feels like doing it :>)

[878-sparksofmagic]

The Crystal Fanged Snake- A Duck’s Adventure

This is for schooooool but im putting it here because reasons. Warning: It’s super cliche and probably predictable because it’s meant to demonstrate the standard heroes journey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was an odd day for Grape. She had woken up, gazing around the coop for a bit. She saw the ducklings snoozing peacefully in the corner, while her crazy Grandpa was clearly awake in the roost above her. She could feel the small vibrations in the wood of the roost as he preened his feathers, getting ready for the day. She could not, however, hear her Grandmother, or her parents. They must be outside, Grape thought. I should join them, perhaps the farmer simply brought breakfast early today. With that, Grape stood, ruffling her feathers and stretching out her wings as she carefully climbed down the small ramp that led from her part of the roost to the ground, being very quiet so she did not wake her siblings.  

As she stepped outside, she saw Grandmother, so she hurried over to her, asking where Mother and Father were at. "Oh them? The farmer came earlier and picked them up, most likely for a contest." Grandma replied, waddling with confidence towards the feeder, slowly, despite her leg, which had been crippled for as long as Grape could remember.  

"Ah ok, so that means I have to watch the kids, right?" This was not an unusual thing for Grape, her parents were prized show ducks, and traveled with the farmer frequently. When this happened, she was forced to deal with her siblings, all three of them, and boy, were they a handful! "Alright Grandma, I'm getting breakfast."  

The day went on as usual, and nothing to out of the ordinary occurred, other than Melon getting his head stuck in the fence when looking at the cows. He was not even supposed to go over there, but that never stopped the oldest of Grape's sibling from doing anything.  

As Grape got the ducklings ready for bed, they seemed suspiciously compliant, putting up nearly no fuss, not even when Grape told them to preen their feathers. They usually hated doing that, but today they did it without a complaint. That was suspicious, but oh well, they must just be tired. Grape thought before heading up to sleep herself, carefully stepping up the ramp to her bed.  

CRASH! "Wha- what?" Grape awoke with a start, immediately seeing Sugar, the youngest duckling, standing at the coop door, shaking and obviously terrified. "S-Sugar? What's wrong sis? Are you ok there?"

"Gwape! There- there- there waz a snakey!! It got Melo and Lemon!" Sugar shouted, and Grape could barely understand her. She was beginning to cry now, so Grape just wrapped a wing around her until she quieted down a bit.  

"Can you talk now, Sugar?" She nodded. "Okay, then start from the beginning."

"Ok big sista. Melo said that we should sneak out, and I didn't wanna but he said I waz a chicken! And I'm noda chicken ima ducky!" She sniffed before continuing, "So we all snucked out while you were sleepin, and we went inda the forest to look at the pwetty stars." Grape nodded to say she understood the poor child before asking her to continue.  

"Then what happened, kiddo?" Grape asked.

"We were just sittin' there, lookin at the pweeeetty stars but then there was a crack behind us and- and-" She was starting to get scared again, but she swallowed and continued. "-and the there was a big, scary snakey! It wasn't a normal snakey, it was BIG! And it stoleded Melo and Whemon! I runded away and hided in a tree trunk. I went weaaaaaaal close to me Gwape! It's eye was diiis close!" She gestured with her wings to show that it was only an inch or two away. "And it had a big, old, white eyeball!" She said the last word with a particular emphasis.  

" Ok ok, so let me get this straight. You guys snuck out to look at the stars without telling me, and then a giant snake, with a white eye, came and took Melon and Lemon?" Grape asked with a hint of disbelief. "Are you sure that’s what happened?"

"Yes! Yes! And now that big stinky snake has Melo and Whemon!" It was clear by the way Sugar exclaimed this with such exasperation that this wasn’t just a joke set up by Melon. Something had happened to Grape's brothers, and she, being the only semi-adult duck that wasn't elderly around, would have to go rescue them. Oh no, she couldn't do that. What if there really was a huge snake monster, what could she do about it? I'm not ready for this! Grape thought. She would have to tell her grandparents about this, perhaps they would know what to do.  

"-are you telling me us that you guys saw the crystAL FANGED SNAKE?! And it didn't EAT you?!" Well. It seems like Grandpa does indeed know about this thing. "How on EARTH did you survive Sugar??" Grandpa shouted.  

"I hided in a tree twunk Grampi!" Sugar said in an innocent tone.  

"I personally do not care how Sugar got away, the fact is, it seems like Melon and Lemon were not as lucky. We must find them again, and soon. Before that snake decides that it is hungry once more." Grandmother declared in a commanding voice. "Oh, curse this leg. If only it wasn't so useless! Grape, you must find the Raven. He has travelled to that creature's lair before, perhaps he can do it again. Me and Grandpa will watch Sugar."

"Uh, ok. Where do I find this guy?" Grape was nervous. She had hardly ever even left the farm, and now she was supposed to go find some strange bird? She hoped he didn't live too far away, at least she would not have to defeat this snake thing. This Raven fellow could do it right? He had before anyways, according to Grandma.

After receiving directions and eating some dinner, Grape set out on her adventure. She was nervous, but also full of hope. Her brothers would be alright, she just had to make it to this strange Raven and it would all go back to normal. He could save her siblings, and maybe she could even help a little!

Almost a half hour later, Grape was near the tree her Grandparents had described. Well.. This was it. She decided just calling his name might bring him down. "Um, Raven? Are you there?" She semi-shouted.

"Who's asking?" A voice croaked from above.  

"Um, hello? My name is Grape?" Grape asked timidly.

"What do you want?" The scratchy voice asked.  

"My brothers! They were captured by this snake and- and my Grandma said you could help? Can you please?" Grape called out.

"No, go away. I want nothing to do with some snake!" The Raven shouted back at her before ducking his head back into the small tree hole that must have been his home.  

"Wh-what? But Grandmother said-" Grape was cut off.

"I said NO! I don't care what your grandma said, I won't risk my life to save some idiot ducklings from a snake. Any normal snake would have eaten them by now anyways." The Raven stuck his head back out, and Grape saw that he had no eye on one side of his face. Instead, the socket was blank and covered with skin. The other eye, however, was piercingly yellow as it stared beadily down at her.  

"But sir, this isn't a normal snake-" His head tilted a bit at that "-It’s a, a what did Grandpa call it? The Crystal Fanged Snake, that’s what it was!" Grape shouted, cheery becaouse she remembered the name.  

"No it is not. It couldn't be. I killed that snake years ago, I stabbed out its eye myself! It died, I saw it bleeding out! I- I sacrificed my own eye in the fight- it MUST be dead-" The Raven babbled, confused.  

"Sir, you said you stabbed its eye? Well, my sister, Sugar, said that this snake was missing one of its eyes, plus it was spikey and certainly not a normal snake." Grape explained.  

"Oh no, oh no. If what you say is true, girl, then this whole area is in grave danger. That snake was once the familiar of a witch, a witch who happened to love birds very much. It's a sad, complicated tale, one I do not have time to tell, but in the end that witch passed- leaving a bitter, angry, absolutely mad snake. One who has a passionate hatred for bird kind, and who magicked himself into being nearly invincible." He explained, shaking his head and trembling ever so slightly.  

This was not good, Grape thought, If this snake is really as much of a threat as this Raven says, and he won't fight it, then what am I to do? "Can you fight this thing then?" She asked, nervously.  

"No, no. I can't. I've been no good at fighting since I lost my eye. You will have to go. Don't worry, if he is truly blind in one eye, then I know how to fight him. Come up here, and we may discuss this." He said.  

Grape looked at the tree, trying to find the best way up. The Raven rolled his eyes at this, and said: "There's a hole in the bottom that leads to here." He said dismissively before poking his head back in.  

Grape scooted around the base of the dead tree until she found what he was talking about. As she climbed, the full realization that she was going to have to save her siblings weighed heavily on her, giving her a sinking feeling in her stomach. She was scared.

After discussing what she needed to do with the Raven, Grape set off to find the snake's Lair. According to him, she simply needed to sneak in, careful to stay out of his range of vision, grab her brothers, and get out. Simple. Or so she thought.  

Grape was nearing where Raven had told her to go, and she was starting to grow apprehensive. But she would push on for her siblings. She gulped. I can do this. She hoped that Raven's advice would be good enough to get her through this.  

She took a step forward, towards the ominous dark cavern of the snake, pressing on into the darkness. Ok, alright, just stay to the left... Her thoughts trailed off, she had heard a sound. Something slithering, scales scraping against the rock. She froze. Stay calm, stay calm.  

"Helllloooo therrrre agaiinn littlllle duckiessss"  Oh god he saw me he saw me he's going to eat me oh go- A clear voice rang out, interrupting Grape's panic.

"Shut up you dumb snake, and let us out!" Melon. Of course. He was always the bravest of them all, sometimes to a fault. Grape took a deep breath, she was still unspotted. She inched forward, and soon saw quite the scene before her. In cages all around, various birds, most of them young, were captured. In the center, watching her two brothers, was the Crystal Fanged Snake. His bad eye was towards her, luckily. He was massive, atop his head was a crown of rocky horn-like spikes, and protruding from his mouth were the crystal-like fangs of which his name derived from.

"Fooooolllisssh duckssss, I cannot let you ooooout. That would ruuuiiiin tomorowsss dinnneeer" His voice was sinister and cold. "Beeeeennn a whiiillleee ssssince I had duuuuck." And then he laughed, a chilling sound laced with all the cruelness imaginable. Grape started doubting herself once more, but then one of the birds near her, an owlet, caught sight of her, and its face lit up with hope. Grape put a wing to her beak, telling the bird to be quiet, and it nodded. Grape couldn't give up now. She would have to wait until the snake moved away, then she could free the birds and, especially, her brothers.  

So she waited. And waited. But the snake never moved. Instead, he fell asleep right there, mumbling about ducks and dinner. Well, I suppose this will work, as long as everyone is very, very quiet when I let them out. Grape decided now was as good a time as any, and stepped forward, away from the shadow of the rock overhang she had been hiding under. Around her, she heard birds gasp in excitement as they caught sight of her. She pointed to the snake, indicating that they remain silent. Most got the idea, and stopped making noise. As she crawled forwards towards the nearest cage, she thought of how crazy this all was. Her she was, a young duck from a small farm, who happened to have some rambunctious siblings, about to free the prisoners of a crazy magical snake. She supposed it wasn't the most absurd thing that could happen, but still, it felt as if this was meant to occur. Her nerves had nearly disappeared, oddly, despite being terrified out of her mind only moments ago.  

Lost in thought, she stepped on a stone, sending it tumbling. Nearly every very bird in the cavern gasped, looking towards the snake. But he merely let out a snore, turning over in his sleep.  

Grape made it to the cage, and to the disbelief of the small owl inside, flicked open the lock. Grape pointed to the cave, telling the bird to escape now. The owl looked at her, nodded and sent a thank you with its eyes before scurrying out as quickly as it could without making any noise. Grape continued, freeing many. A crow, a rooster, two woodpeckers, all freed from the snake's clutches. Just as she was about to free Melon and Lemon, who were particularly close to the snake, there was a crash.

BANG! The last bird she had freed, a very young blue-jay, had fallen over a rock. The sound echoed through the chamber, and the blue-jay jumped up, sprinting towards the exit. Grape looked towards the enormous head of the snake, and was met with the blue eye of the snake. Grape realized her mistake. She hadn't stayed on the left, and now she was caught, red-handed, by the most powerful creature she had ever seen. The snake raised its head, eye fixed on Grape.  

"HEY IDIOT LOOK AT ME!" Melon shouted, and the snake whipped its head around to snap at him.

"Ssssshut up you insssssolent morssssel!" Grape wasted no time, and ran to the other side of the snake, the blind side. "Heeey, where diiiid the other one goooo?" He hissed. "I willll find you, ruuuunt." The snake whipped his head around, searching. Grape ducked behind a rock.

She was scared, but her body knew what to do, somehow. She had to get her brothers out, they were the last ones. She just had to get over there. She peeked out from behind the rock. The snake had his back to her, perfect. She crept out as quickly as she could towards her brother's cage. "Theeerrree you arrreee. Thouuught I woullld leet you get awaaayyy didn't you?" Grape looked around. She was cornered. The cage was on one side, and there were rocks on the other. "Oh, loook at thhhhat, yourrr trrraped" The snake appeared gleeful, he would have his revenge on the bird that had released his meals. "You'lll be a greaaaat feaaast, idiiiot duck." Grape looked up, perhaps she could, no, she wouldn't make it, not with flying skills like hers- the snake lunged, and Grape's half-baked thread of a plan was put to the test. She leaped, popping open her wings, and soared over the snake's head. The snake had not expected such a maneuver, and it crashed, mouth agape, against the rocks. As Grape landed, the sound of shattering glass rang throughout the room.  

"No- nooooo my fangggsss, they'rrrre brokeeeen!" The beast wailed. A substance leaked from the mouth of the wounded snake, wrapping him in a blanket of smoke. Grape covered her eyes, and when the smoke cleared, all that remained of the snake was its rocky horns, and the broken remains of its crystal fangs.  

It was over, Grape had won. Granted, she had gotten much more then she had bargained for, and gotten very lucky, but she had still one. Melon and Lemon cheered, while Grape stood in disbelief. When she finally shook off her shock, she hurried over to unlock her brother's cage. Together, they walked out of the cage, Lemon and Melon both excitedly chittering about how cool that had been.  

"You did it Grape!" Said Melon.

"That was the coolest thing I have EVER seen a girl do!" Lemon said, and Grape rolled her eyes.  

"I suppose it was pretty cool, wasn't it?" Grape said with a smirk. Before leaving, the cavern for good, however, Grape took a look back, and decided to grab a few pieces of the snake's shiny fangs.  

As they left to return home, they stopped by the Raven's house, who claimed that he was shocked Grape had actually lived. She gave one of the fragments to him. Next, they went home.

There was a lot of hugging and congratulations, as well as a firm scolding from the ducklings now returned parents, who were still in disbelief.  

That night, as Grape was getting ready for bed, she looked at the ramp leading to her bed. Instead of taking it up, however, she leaped up, landing neatly in her bed. She tucked the last of the snake's fang fragments underneath, proof that she defeated such an odd creature. As she fell asleep, she saw her three siblings peacefully sleeping in their bed, and Grape knew in her heart that she could protect them from anything.

[tannen]

@notyouransweringservice:

                 // linda pulls her jacket tighter around her shoulders, crossing her arms in front of her chest. biting night air hits her face as she walks, cool, but fresh- the scent of springtime apparent. she glances up at the canopy of trees overhead, layers of dark greens and blacks, shadows dipping in and out of arcing branches, the occasional firefly illuminating a new leaf or two, showing off its’ true green hues.

a mix of dirt and gravel pops beneath her sneakers, and at one point, a twig snaps under her heel. its sharp crack is the only sound in a long time, and it seems to echo louder than their footsteps for a long while.

their. linda isn’t alone- she’s walking through a trail on the outskirts of a park near hill valley with tiff tannen, and she doesn’t know how she feels about it. tiff is… well, tiff, and linda both likes her and recognizes some of the danger in getting involved with a tannen. speaking of tiff, when she returns her gaze to looking straight ahead of her, she is greeted by her face- she’s watching linda, and walking backwards down the trail. because of course she is.

linda rolls her eyes, but smiles a little. ❛ tiff, c’mon. if you don’t walk right you’ll fall off the trail and die, and then i’d have to think of something nice to say at you funeral. ❜ she says the words in a quiet tone, mindful of the silence of the night, but it’s still light, clear that she’s only teasing. it belies her concern for tiff’s safety, however, even if there isn’t any real danger. she’s still just a bit worried.

after a few more minutes, the trees begin to thin out, the trail beginning to gain more grass and weeds, and eventually- they emerge onto a grassy hill.

its a long, gradual slope that eventually becomes almost a straight drop off; wide and open, and here the sky is free of the trees that previously hid it away. it overlooks hill valley- linda can see the distant, tiny glow of the streetlights down there, the head and tail lights of the rare car driving through at this time of night,

it’s a popular spot for kids to come out and do things, and it’s a good spot to watch the stars. it’s a good spot to be alone, and sit, and think. or…. be alone together.

she comes to a slow stop halfway down the long hill, staring at the quiet city she calls home, and then slowly raising her eyes to the dancing stars above her.  ❛ well, ❜ she says finally, breaking the silence. ❛ here we are…. ❜

she sends a glance over to her left, eyeing tiff. ❛ guess we didn’t bring a blanket or anything, huh? ❜ she sinks down into the soft grass without waiting for an answer, taking a final look at the distantglow of hill valley before collapsing onto her back,

now blinking up at the stars. tiff’s face is still above her too, and she grins up at her. ❛ hey, you know, you’re pretty hot from down here too. ❜

|| stargazing was romantic, or at least the most romantic activity that Tiff could think of. she didn’t consider linda to be anything more than the occasional fuck - buddy, of course, because she would never have romantic feelings for a McFly. yet it never hurt to treat your friends, did it ? besides, she’d have peace and quiet with a cute girl, beneath a velvet blanket of stars. what could be better ?

     she walks backwards up the track, eyes blazing like green fire in the dark of night, watching the path melt away into a haze of darkened foliage. she keeps her eyes open, alert, watching for anyone who dared intrude on their evening together. she couldn’t have that. her gaze falls down to linda’s face when she hears the other speak, the corner of her mouth twitching in a smirk.

she doesn’t know quite what it is that attracts her to the middle child of her rival family. it might’ve been her simple preference for those who were older than her, or those at least old enough to dominate her. maybe it was her weakness towards beautiful girls she couldn’t get enough of. or the idea of a no strings attached, friends with benefits relationship.

     it was likely an amalgamation of things, too complex and rooted in her subconscious for her to even begin to comprehend. whatever her attraction stemmed from, its influences certainly weren’t waning. if anything, they seemed to weave their way into every interaction with linda, and Tiff can’t help but find herself even more hopelessly attracted to the girl.

her silence remains all the way to their chosen spot, until they emerge on the grassy knoll overlooking the measly city of hill valley. it’s almost sad that she can pick out her favourite bars and clubs from among the flurry of blurring technicolor lights.

               “ Hey, you know, you’re pretty hot from down here. ”

     she shrugs off her leather jacket with a low chuckle, placing it on the grass and lying back upon it. toned arms stretch upwards, muscles pulsating and straining visibly in the pale moonlight, before her hands settle upon her abdomen as she turns her head to face linda.

          ‘ I’m pretty hot from every angle, according t’ you. ’ she smirks, watching her partner with inquisitive eyes. a blissful sigh escapes painted lips as she turns back around to stare up at the sky, taking a faux interest in the constellations twinkling above. ‘ .. I think you’re pretty hot too, y’know. Especially when I’m lyin’ on your chest and you’re callin’ me princess. ’