#internal Reblog

[questioningespecialy]

i have a problem

my latest story won't stop expanding

my time is better spent elsewhere

but i cannot stop writing

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[idiomagic]

Horse Story #2 for @elodieunderglass

Me and the KGB In 1984, the Summer Olympics were being held in Los Angeles. The Soviet Union and Eastern Bloc countries all boycotted the Olympics, and held their own event -- The Friendship Games -- in the Soviet Union.

At 14, I was too young for the Olympic team, so my horse Michael and I headed off for Sopot in Poland, where the equestrian events for the Friendship Games were being held. On the interminable plane ride, all the athletes were given a briefing by the CIA. We were told that everywhere we went, there would be KGB officers, that we could not talk to athletes from the Eastern Bloc or they could be hauled away and interrogated or imprisoned. We were told that there would be listening devices, undercover agents, all that cold war spy stuff. We were ordered to act with all decorum, to take the security situation with the utmost seriousness, to not provoke the KGB in any way. Those of you who have read my previous story can see that this is all going to end poorly. As a bratty, rage filled teenager, there was no decorum in me. I was determined that if the KGB was going to spy on me, I'd give them plenty to keep them busy. (I would like to pause here and state that I am deeply sorry to the people of Russia and Poland for my lack of respect and maturity. To all the KGB officers who were involved: go fuck yourselves with angry hedgehogs, sideways.)

At the hotel, we could easily spot the KGB agents...they always stood in groups of three. The logic went that one agent couldn't be trusted, two could conspire, but in groups of three one would always snitch. Our rooms were searched, clumsily, on an almost daily basis. Our rooms were bugged. At the stables, there were KGB clusters everywhere, and it was clear that the stablehands were almost all spies, as they seemed to have no clue how to clean a stall and spent most of their time lurking. 14 year old me found this hilarious, and I soon cajoled one of the other young American riders to join me in harassing the KGB mercilessly, for funsies. I had read somewhere that non-native English speakers found certain English word games incomprehensible, so my friend and I spent that week only speaking in Pig Latin. This was harmless fun. On the second day, however, our tack room had been searched, and it was clear that the KGB had taken souvenirs for themselves. This pissed me off. Boris the KGB agent who had been assigned to us was a horrible man...slimy, smarmy, shifty. He leered a lot. He smelled like spoiled milk and bad cheese. He would try to sidle up to us and brush against us 'by accident.' I immediately suspected he was the one who had stolen our things, including one of my sports bras. I wanted to hurt him. My prized possession at the time was my brand new Walkman tape player, with the supercool spongy headphones. Whenever Boris was around, I would ostentatiously 'sneak' into my horse's stall, huddle in the corner, and pretend to hold whispered conversations with my Walkman, as if I were receiving instructions. Boris was all aquiver...he was convinced he had unearthed a spy ring. He tried to grab my Walkman, and I ducked around him and 'hid' it in the straw at the back of my horse's stall. My horse Michael was a nightmare. He was an enormous liver chestnut gelding, crazed, full of rage and spite and strange appetites. In all the world, the only thing he loved was jumping. He hated everything and everyone, and would have happily set the world on fire if only he had had thumbs. His hobbies were kicking and biting, and pursued those with an unholy zeal that was unmatched until the advent of Taylor Swift fans. Boris knew nothing about horses. So he marched up to the stall and fumbled with the latch. And 17 hands of psychotic Thoroughbred lunged from the shadows, unhinged his jaw like a giant python, and sank his teeth into Boris's shoulder. Boris let out a shrill, high pitched scream of panic and tried to pull back, but Michael would not let go. The barn aisle was suddenly full of KGB agents, shouting in Russian. Michael clamped down harder. I stood there, laughing hysterically. After probably too many moments, I pried Michael's jaws open, and Boris was led away, never to be seen by us again. A Strongly Worded Letter was sent to our embassy, and Michael and I were banned from ever again entering the Soviet Union or any of its client states. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you enjoy my stories, please share my pinned post or buy me a Kofi. We are going through The Horrors, and all help is most truly appreciated. https://ko-fi.com/idiomagic

[theav0cadobaby]

You know I wish fatphobia was less pervasive. Even among people who consider themself as progressive, it's rampant. So quick reminder. No it's actually not easy to stop being fat, and it sucks that we are treated differently for something we really can't control. Shaming a fat person for being fat, and shaming them for not having the "willpower" to become skinny- is bigotry. And if all you talk to fat people about is weight loss and dieting- congratulations! You're being a dick! Stop.

[raynewolferune]

Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt1

Update 5/16/2024: Congrats guys, gals, and others! You have planted the seeds and they have grown. Today I wrote another 46 pages on this story (the first section was only 9 pages ya'll). I'm working on splitting it up into smaller sections so I can post it now because tumblr said no to doing it as one piece. I'll be using the tag #Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist if you want to follow it.

Original Note: I'm going to go ahead and apologize for how OOC Bane is in this. It originally was Joker but I couldn't see Jazz tolerating his proximity for more than a single millisecond so Bane it is.

~*~*~

The hardest thing about being a Meta in Gotham was responding appropriately during a Rouge's attack, Jazz mused to herself. Or perhaps that was just the hardest part about being a Meta intern at Arkham while studying psychology at Gotham University. Or maybe it was just her, she considered watching the guards and Dr. Rylie whom she'd been shadowing for the past 2 weeks wide eyed, pale, and shaking as theybstared at Bane behind her. It must just be her, Jazz decided, newbie guard Kyle Jennings was definitely a Meta after all. She should probably give him some tips on hiding his enhanced strength considering how often he broke mugs, door handles, and other delicate items used in daily life.

"Weapons down or I'll snap her skinny little neck." Bane growled out, shaking her slightly for emphasis. She very much doubted that. Liminials were built different than the standard Meta, stronger, faster, better endurance, and senses even if they could mostly appear to be standard humans on the outside.  As such, their bones and muscles were much were much denser than regular humans or even Meta humans. Technically, she could be considered "invulnerable" much like the Kryptonians are.

"Back up! Let him through!" Dr. Rylie  shouted at the guards. "She's my student! Let him through!" His voice was higher pitched than she could recall hearing it before.

Ah. That was panic.

Jazz sighed involuntarily and glanced over her shoulder at Bane. Why the man had grabbed the only person close to his own height nearby was a mystery to her - no, nevermind, he clearly meant to use her as a shield - but it made looking him in the eye more difficult than necessary.

"Mr. Bane, remove your hands from my person, please." Jazz stated calmly, channeling what Danny called her inner mom as she spoke. "I will give you to one to comply."

Bane looked stunned for a moment then laughed.

"Five."

The laughing continued. Jazz could sense a stir of uncertainty through her colleagues as they looked on.

"Four."

"Did you really think that would work?" Bane snorted out, arms tensing more around her.

"Three." She continued, indifferent to his words from her experiences raising her brother. Once the count down starts you mustn't respond to anything the kids do or say until they comply or the count is done.

"What cab you even do if I don't?" Bane asked darkly breathing directly in her ear. She kept her face expressionless despite the urge to express disgust.

"Two."

"Jasmine..."  Kyle whispered halfway across the hall from her looking on with a pained and horrified expression. Gun tilting towards the floor. Sloppy.

"One." She finished and Bane gave a derisive snort.

Then she was moving. Hauling the enormous man up and over her shoulder using the arm that had been wrapped around her neck. Bane hit the cold tile hard enough that the tiles, subfloor, structural supports, and part of the concrete foundation buckled beneath him. His shoulder popped out of joint, his wrist cracked - a hairline fracture by the sound of it -  and his breath was punched out of him from the force of impact. She released his arm as soon as his was embedded in the tiles and moved forward. Kneeling over him, support most of her weight on her left foot resting on the broken ground, her right knees pressed firmly across his throat without supporting any of her weight. The position put more strain on her muscles than she would've liked but at least Bane couldn't risk fighting back without crushing his own neck in the process. He could hardly throw her while flat on his back with a mangled arm.

"Now," Jazz began, looking directly into the behemoth's pained eyes. "Do you know what you've done wrong?" She asked like she would have done with Danny as a child.

"Yes, Ma'am." Bane choked out. Jazz heard movement and murmuring behind her. She didn't turn to look.

"What did you do wrong?" She asked. It was important to make sure children correctly understood why they were in trouble after all. There was a long pause as Bane appeared to cast around for the exact right answer as if he feared getting it wrong. A bad habit Danny still uses as well, Jazz thought to herself.

"I tried to hold you hostage," He choked out in a rush, words tumbling over one another as he tried to get them all out. "I scared you coworkers and it was very disrespectful."

So he'd gone for the grab-bag response. It wasn't wrong per sey but it did indicate a past history of abuse. The type of answer given by someone who expected to be harmed or ignored if they gave the "wrong" answer. Danny tended to use that method also and their parents had always been negligent at best.

"And are you going to do it again?" She asked giving him a Look as she did. Bane's eyes widened and he tried to frantically shake his head as much as possible with the pressure on his neck.

"No, Ma'am." He promised fervently.

"Alright then," Jazz said giving him a warm smile. She gestured vaguely towards the guards without turning to look at them. "Kyle here is going to take you to see the nurse and then back to your room then. I'm sure you'll behave for him?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll behave." Bane said. Jazz stood slowly asking sure not to put any additional pressure on his neck as she did. Kyle came and stood next to her as the giant of a man slowly pulled himself to his feet then led him away with 5 other guards.

Jazz heaved a sigh. Well, time to find out whether or not she could play all that off as normal, non-Meta human behavior.

[simplysnaps]

[r3dc4b00s3]

‼️ IMPORTANT‼️ ‼️DON'T KEEP SCROLLING OR SKIP‼️

Unfortunately this original post is no longer up, but I'm still sharing to spread the word.

Please if you are in the mouthwashing fandom made it so media can't be used in your ask box and turn off auto-play for DMS

Settings>Account settings>Media auto-play>Never auto-play.

There is many more accounts with so many different names. They can be normal names but don't trust the account and pass it off as normal.

Please reblog with as many tags as possible.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

[hoarderheart]

I absolutely love how the “miku in your culture” trend is happening just 2 days before her internationally celebrated birthday. World’s number one princess. The world is truly, undoubtedly, hers.

[questioningespecialy]

Damage Control

Spent some too much of my damn time digging into who was actually saying what (on TikTok, Twitter, and a Somalian forum) in regards to "the aftermath" and~... it really does seem like the mofos who are, let's say, against her are mostly 1) Conservative Africans and 2) Black red pillers. 😐 The percentage that's just racist fucks pullin' some "as a Black man" shit, though? 🤷🏿‍♂️

For those who don't know what I mean by "Black redpillers", here's part 3 (2.75hrs) of F.D Signifier's Manosphere trilogy (Nebula). It, uh... won't brighten your day, btw. >.>

part 1: Dissecting the Manosphere (Nebula) part 2: Connecting the Manosphere (Nebula)

On a positive note...

One person I'd like to point out in this mess is a brotha on TikTok who was actively not part of the problem: SugeWomack @sugewomack.

called out the bs and aftermath:

callin’ people out:

responding to original video (+an extreme take):

advice on bystander intervention:

Edit:

Forgot about these mofos (also positive).

Edit 2:

Forgot that SugeWomack is very in favor of traditional gender norms, which is a negative (to me... and progress) but hey.

Black News: Roda Bashe's assault by brick... and the aftermath

cw: physical assault, swelling

“Y’all, this man just hit me in my face with a brick and all these Black men just watched. This man...grabbed a rock and hit me in my face because I wouldn’t give him my number,” Bashe said in the footage. “What have I ever done to anybody in my life to deserve this?” she continued, now recording herself from a hospital room. —Candace McDuffie, The Root (2023/09/08)

After the incident, Roda Bashe received medical care at a nearby hospital where she stayed for several hours and was finally discharged with a concussion. A GoFundMe was created for Bashe by friend Kiara Davis, and it has raised $37,000 and counting for medical expenses. —Sayou Cooper, Daily Dot (2023/09/06)

There's lots of platforms and podcasts that are teaching men how to control, but not enough are teaching y'all how to care. —Jameelah Jones @sunnydaejones, TikTok (2023/09/06)

[torillatavataan]

28 September 2024 marks 30 years since the sinking of the MS Estonia

MS Estonia sank on Wednesday, 28 September 1994 as the ship was crossing the Baltic Sea, en route from Tallinn, Estonia, to Stockholm, Sweden.

The sinking was one of the worst maritime disasters of the 20th century. It is one of the deadliest peacetime sinkings of a European ship, after the Titanic in 1912 and the Empress of Ireland in 1914. It is the deadliest peacetime shipwreck to have occurred in European waters, with 852 (out of 989) lives lost.

Image source

[sandflakedraws]

⭐THE TOUCH OF SUNLIGHT LEFTOVER SALE⭐

Catstealers, the fulfillment partner who helped me with the TToS kickstarter, is moving~!! 🥳🎉

WHICH MEANS! This is gonna be the last chance to get your hands on these for the foreseeable future. I just don't have the energy or means to do fulfillment from my end.

We're hoping to keep everything US domestic. There's still the online PDF up for grabs if you're international and would like a goodie, since it requires no shipping whatsoever.

If you're interested, take a gander at Sandflake.Bigcartel.com

LEFTOVER SALE ENDS JULY 6TH.

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Internalizing Autistic Meltdowns

Neurodivergent_lou

[chaotic-carnifex]

No hold on I'm gonna make an extra post about this:

I wouldn't choose to be alloromantic

If I were given the choice to either remain aro or become alloro again, I would choose aromanticism.

And I think a lot of people need to hear that.

[kaiserouo]

let them use social media

[sensiblereblogifposts]

Hi.

I'm going to break my very strict format for once because I need your help. For the past 9 years, the irl human behind this blog has been involved in the effort to save a museum from incompetent and money hungry executives.

The museum is filled with precious objects, telling the story of the history of technology, and how it relates to art and society.

Many of these are objects are large, but delicate and have been in place for over 30 years.

No one within the museum's community trusts the CEO, who was appointed by a hostile former government, and prefers renting out museum spaces for business functions over educating the public.

In a few days, the museum is set to close down for renovations. Yet none of the staff or volunteers have been given any clear details about these plans. All we know is displays which have inspired generations will be torn down, likely never to be restored.

We have a petition asking the new government to step in and stop the closure:

If you could sign this, you'd be doing the human behind this blog a massive favour.