#yet we insist of excluding some

[nerdygaymormon]

[estrogeneral-intelligence]

Gender essentialism is a social cancer.

Just saw a post on Lex that was basically a transmasc person asking the queer community at large to stop excluding them because they pass as a cis man. They asked that we maybe stop coming down on trans men, masc NBs, hell, even trans women who don't know they're trans yet.

And…yeah. I don't think that's an unreasonable ask. Tbh I think that should also include cis men who aren't straight, because they are part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

I think what's vastly more important than whether someone has a masculine identity is whether or not they're explicitly being toxically masculine. Wanting more body hair isn't toxic, wanting a flat chest isn't toxic, wanting to enjoy more "masculine" activities and be seen as one of the guys isn't toxic. SIMPLY BEING A MAN IS NOT TOXIC.

Anytime I've seen someone insist otherwise, it's been someone closely tied to—if not within—radfem/TERF circles. The logic that leads people to say masculine traits == bad is the same as the logic that results in having penis == bad, yet for some reason the former is treated as common sense even in queer circles. We're supposed to be rejecting gender norms, not reinforcing them dammit.

What's bad, what's toxic, is possessiveness. Needless aggression. Unchecked jealousy. Entitlement (especially sexual entitlement). None of these are inherently masculine traits.

It's one thing to be cautious of cis men, who more often than not have accepted masculinity as the default rather than a conscious choice, and may have learned more toxic traits as a result. But you don't know who is or isn't trans.

You don't know how that "cis man" actually identifies. Even if you do, you don't know whether or not he's examined his gender identity and decided he's happy where he is. You don't know whether or not he's actually possessive or entitled or aggressive. Making such assumptions is no better than assuming that a woman will be shy and submissive.

You don't know, and it's not your place to decide.

[i9messi]

Speak Now — Max Verstappen

You're Max’s best friend. When he announces he's gonna get married you can't believe it. Is it too late and inopportune to let him know you're in love with him?

Word count — 1,8k

a/n: happy ending!!

max’s masterlist

"I'm going to get married. She said yes."

The call seemed to end abruptly, but you knew very well that Max was on the other side of the line, waiting for your answer. A bittersweet taste had settled in your mouth and tears began to build up in your eyes, all as you thought of what response to give. A best friend would be happy for him, a best friend would just want to see him fulfill his dreams. However, things were complicated. You felt sad, broken and submerged in deep pain.

In your stupidest dreams, you’d hoped Max would finally notice you. You’d been there, you’d listened to him and advised him every time he fought with his girlfriend. You pretended to be happy when you saw them coming back. Max had gotten so used to your presence that you had become invisible to his eyes. You were just a friend to him.

In part, it was no surprise that Max had proposed to his partner. You had assumed that sooner or later the relationship was going to become much stronger. Still, you didn’t expect to do it so soon.

"Are you there?"

"Oh, yes, Max. I’m sorry." You swallowed saliva. "I’m happy for you."

When you closed your eyes, it didn’t seem right. Max didn’t have to marry her. It wasn’t the way it should have been.

Seven months later and after much anxiety on your part, it was finally the wedding day. You had hesitated to go, mainly because your invitation had rarely never arrived. Max wasn’t aware of the way the bride had excluded you, and you hadn’t told him either. Daniel was the one who insisted multiple times on going together. In his company you had reached the beautiful place where Max was going to get married, and your eyes connected with the rest of the guests. The bride’s family were dressed in pastel.

"When the priest says speak now or forever hold your peace you have to appear abruptly and say that he is your man. Wave me down a little early so I can get my cell phone and record it." Danny joked, although it wasn’t really being a total joke, a small part of him expected the ceremony to be canceled. You denied with your head.

"I’ll behave myself, it’s Max’s day."

Daniel let out a sigh.

"I’ll go get alcohol, we need it a lot."

As the Australian disappeared from your sight, you were left alone, looking everywhere. You could feel curious looks on you. Some of the bride’s friends looked at you with raised eyebrows, while whispering among them. Barely five minutes passed, when two of them decided to come over to talk to you.

"I didn’t know you were invited," said the first.

"If I remember correctly, the bride didn’t invite you."

To save you, Daniel returned to your side, with two glasses of some liquid. The girls came back with their friends' group and your friend offered you a drink.

"You need it more than I do."

You hadn’t seen Max yet and you wanted to cry. So you got the drink and tasted the alcohol in your lips. You were just gonna have a drink, you didn’t want to be a sad drunk that day. You’d save the tears for later, when you were in the privacy of your home.

"Why do I feel like I’m being practically kicked out of here? I know I wasn’t invited, but I don’t have to be treated like I broke in either."

"The thing is, it’s painful to see the person you love marry someone else. It’s obvious how you feel about Max and nobody expected you to actually decide to come here."

"He’s my best friend, as much as it hurts, I want to see him happy."

"Even when he's happy with someone else?"

You nodded, "Even to someone other than me."

Daniel Ricciardo shook his head, "I’m told Max is nervous. I think it would do him good to talk to you. You’re the only one who knows how to calm him when he’s like this."

After a bad race, you were always there to have a conversation with him. Max Verstappen was a self-confident person, but he also got easily mad when things didn’t go the way he had planned. There was a lot of pressure on him to do his best. Even when you weren’t in the same country as him, one phone call from you was enough to get him in a better mood.

You nodded and went to where Max was supposedly to be. You knocked on the door and took a breath, that’s when you heard his voice saying you could pass. The vision completely shattered you. Max was wearing a black suit, one that fit him perfectly. He was even more beautiful than usual, he was the perfect groom. It was just a few minutes before he went out and tied himself up for the rest of his life with another woman. Realization caused you a new wound in your heart.

"Max."

"Here you are, lieverd. I’ve been looking for you for hours."

He came practically running to your side and melted you into a hug. Having him around and at the same time so far away, you ended up breaking. You started shaking and crying in his arms, it was impossible to hold him much longer. Max finally heard your sobs and noticed your tremor, his concern grew.

"What's wrong?"

When you didn’t answer, he took you by the face and your eyes met.

"Tell me, what's wrong?"

It was too late. You couldn’t say you loved him, it was his wedding. You wanted to oppose it, you wanted to yell at the priest that they couldn’t get married. That Max was marrying the wrong girl. Yet you couldn’t do it. You loved him enough to want him to be happy.

You shook your head, "I’m sorry, Max. I have to go, I just... I hope you're happy."

"Wait!"

You ignored him and ran as fast as you could, away from him. You found an empty room and with the curtains closed, the atmosphere of the room seemed dull and melancholy. You knelt on the floor and allowed yourself to cry. It didn’t matter anymore, the person you loved the most in your life was going to marry someone else. After months of waiting, Max was going to say yes in a few minutes.

"Lieverd."

"Don’t call me that."

You didn’t know when he had gotten to where you were. Not caring about the dust in the room, he knelt on the floor next to you. His suit was going to be ruined because of you.

"What’s wrong with you? Why are you running? Why are you crying?"

You looked at him, "Don’t tell me you don’t know, Max. Everybody knows."

"Knows what?"

"I’m in love with you and it hurts so much."

Max was puzzled by your statement. Hell, you thought, why did you have to talk? Couldn’t you have waited, or at least shut up for the rest of your life?

"Look, I know I’m being selfish and it wasn’t the way this day was supposed to be. It’s your day, it’s your wedding and you just have to be focused on your wife-to-be."

"Are you in love with me?"

"Max..."

"Answer."

Max held his breath and so did you. There was no room for lies.

"Yes, I am. I have loved you for years."

"And why didn’t you ever tell me?"

"Because I know you don’t feel the same way, and I understand. But I don’t want to lose you as a friend, and I certainly didn’t want you looking at me like you are now." you closed your eyes and opened them again, Max was looking at you with those eyes that you had fallen in love with. "It doesn’t matter anymore, it doesn’t change anything. Nothing’s gonna change, telling you just made everything worse."

"Since when do you feel this?”

"Max..." his gaze let you know that he needed you to answer his question. "I’ve loved you since we met, and I think the most tragic part about this is that I don’t think I can stop even if I wanted to."

There was a prolonged silence. You let out a sigh, you had ruined everything.

"I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry for everything, I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again."

Max stopped you before you could get up, his hand held yours in a strong grip. You could feel the warmth of his hand and you could almost hear your own heartbeat.

"No, don’t go away."

"Max."

"What makes you think I don’t feel the same way about you? What makes you think I’m happily marrying her?

"You’re not happy? I don’t understand... it’s your marriage, you and her—"

"Stop, listen to me. I know that I was supposed to marry her, I’ve thought several times about what was supposed to be best for me. I thought I loved her and she was the one... but I can’t stop thinking about you. Funny, isn’t it? Because while I’m thinking about you, she doesn’t even occupy even a fraction of my mind. While I have been waiting in that room, I have thought of everything."

"I know now she’s not the woman I want to marry, that’s you. It’s always been you. And now that you’re saying this, that you’re in love with me- I can’t know that the woman I’m in love with also feels the same way about me, and that with my decision I’m breaking her heart."

You couldn’t understand anything that was going on. It almost seemed like a dream, finally someone seemed to hear your prayers.

"But you’re going to marry her, she’s waiting for you. The guests..."

"I don’t care about anyone, I only care about you. I love you. Only you."

You smiled, "Max, are you sure?"

"I am."

And saying that, he grabbed your cheeks and kissed you. It was the first kiss, his lips felt exactly as you had dreamed. It was a sweet and desperate kiss, two lovers who despite the tragic events they had experienced, finally let their hearts be heard. You couldn’t believe it, Max felt the same. You grabbed him harder, never wanting him to separate from you. You wanted the moment to last a lifetime, because you had never been happier. When you walked away, you smiled at him and his eyes shone.

"I love you, Lieverd."

Just a couple of minutes later, Daniel helped the two of you escape from the horrified looks from everyone in the room.

[captainpikeachu]

at some point we need to really talk about how Lee doesn’t think his contributions to Monarch mattered as much as Billy and Keiko’s contributions, how he undervalues himself yet Keiko refuses to let him and insists this is something the THREE of them built, not just her and Billy

the way this show emphatically refuses to let any part of this trio exclude the other in some traditional love triangle BS no matter what

it will be the three of them forever

[gatheringbones]

[“Pop culture tells us that a real woman knows how to use her body to get what she wants, wielding the power of attraction, seducing with her animal magnetism. But I ask, how much power is there in being a carrot on a stick that is dangled in front of someone? And I can’t help but notice that when men try to flatter us, they often use words like “enchanting” and “mysterious.” But to me, those words seem like a subconscious attempt by them to place some distance between us.

So it bothers me when I hear women buy into a similar mysticism, as they try to empower us by proclaiming that we are magical, that we are mother earth with the ability to give birth, bearing life cycles that follow the moon like the tides of the ocean. But don’t they see the danger in buying into the idea that we are supernatural beings? For if we call ourselves “goddesses,” then there is no need for anyone to treat us like human beings.

I believe that this is where second-wave feminism came to a grinding halt: When we got caught up in the myth that women are special because of our biology. Because when we take pride in how fundamentally different we are from men, we unknowingly engage in a dangerous game of opposites. For if men are big, then women must be small. And if men are strong, then women must be soft. And it becomes impossible to write a loud and proud poem about what it means to be a woman without either ridiculing men or else pulling the rug out from under ourselves. And being a woman is contradiction enough without being both a transsexual and a dyke like myself.

I often feel like the monkey in the middle: On one side of me are older lesbians who insist that I am still a man, as if being born male was some awful disease that has infected my blood and my bones permanently. On the other side of me are younger dykes who are infatuated with trans men and tranny bois, yet secretly confess to friends that they are disturbed by trans women because we act so “effeminate.” I wonder how they can be so oblivious to their own arrogance, for anyone who admires trans men but dismisses trans women is simply practicing another form of sexism. I used to think it was a contradiction that some dykes abhorred me for my masculinity while others hated me for my femininity, until I realized that being a woman means that everyone has a stake in seeing what they want to see in me.”]

julia serano, from excluded: making feminist and queer movements more inclusive, 2013

[seapiglet]

hm

I've seen a LOT of shaming going round at the moment, both here and on twitter, of people who are seeking out good omens spoilers, mostly by those who have watched the new episodes in advance. despite what neil and david and michael may have said on the subject, it's rubbing me the wrong way! so I feel the need to make a potentially unpopular post about

✨SPOILERS AND NEURODIVERSITY✨

(and accessibility) 🤚🏼

now I cannot speak for everybody here but as an autistic person with ocd I actually !prefer! being spoiled ahead of time and will frequently read the entire wiki article for a show I'm about to watch (though weirdly CANNOT skip ahead with books?) in order to alleviate anxiety around the unexpected. trust me when I say that knowing what will happen in advance *enhances* the experience for me and I have yet to regret being deliberately spoiled, even when it comes to my absolute favourite things on earth, things I may have been waiting months and months (or in this case years) for. in fact, the longer I've had to wait, the more the feeling of gut-twisting anxiety and uncertainty beds down in my system and makes itself a very unwelcome house guest.

it's all very well insisting that everybody just be patient and ~wait and see~ but for a lot of neurodiverse folks this can be a very unsettling prospect. personally, I don't like surprises! I don't crave the sensation of being shocked by an unforeseen twist! it makes me do a panic! even the thought of it makes me feel deeply uncomfortable.

we're not simply throwing our toys out the pram because we WANT something and we WANT IT NOW (shout out to verruca salt). there is a soothing comfort and stability to predictability that is difficult to explain to somebody who doesn't experience this.

at this point I should mention that OBVIOUSLY not all neurodiverse/autistic/diagnosed-ocd people feel this way but that doesn't negate the fact that a lot of us do and there's not much we can do about it.

I'm aware that everybody's currently moralising about the rightness/wrongness of illicitly distributing and trading nuggets of forbidden information like crack-laced pokemon cards* (surely in this fandom everything should exist in a grey area?) but please don't jump on this as an opportunity to prove who's the most terribly righteous and which of us gets to wear the Super Duper Bestest Fan Neil's Favourite prefect badge for the day. devolving into needless factions and one-upmanship so near to the official airdate does nobody any good.

on another personal note (this is the 👂🏼♿accessibility♿👂🏼bit) I was due to attend one of the screenings and now can't due to the apparent lack of subtitles. pleeeeeaase think of accessibility, amazon. please? some of us have severely messed up ears and/or auditory processing disorders - it's not hurting anybody to have the words up on the screen but it excludes many of us if you don't.

again, if you think it's terrible and wrong to want to be spoiled or to share spoilers you are well within your rights to think that, and of course I encourage anybody who is participating in a bit of blackmarket spoiler dealing to utilise ALL the tags you can think of to keep it secret (keep it safe), or simply leave it to the DMs, but I really don't see the good in shaming others who feel differently.

uhh thank you and good day 🎩

(*hopefully that still scans - my references are as ancient and ephemeral as my knee cartilage)

[liesmyth]

friends. romans. countrymen. lend me your ear

listen. I know we joke that Ianthe is terrible but truly, is she really? No, she’s not. She’s not even in the top 5 worst people of the cast. Yeah, she did war crimes off page, and also did gaslight her crush for shit and giggles, and that is bad. But by canon standards, she's very far from The Worst, and yet we insist to treat her as such. This is injust.

inb4 what about Babs: WHAT about Babs, really? Ianthe killed someone she maybe liked a tiny bit but didn’t paticularly care about, and gained eternal life and immense powers. like, yeah, killing is Bad, but who hasn’t done a spot of killing in the Houses. She made an excellent bargaign, then she immediately fucked off to God Space Station to swoon at Augustine and invade Harrow’s personal space, and didn’t do any killing at all.*

*planets excluded

Meanwhile Corona went to Terrorist Bootcamp and then to Burning People Alive Compound and she got them to trust her, so you know hot girl has done shit (not judging! I think it’s hot of her! But we are sleeping on the Corona side of the war crimes tally, as a fandom)

anyway. I'm coming out as a Ianthe Apologist and starting 2023 with the type  of energy I wish to take into my future (cit. Ianthe). She did some things that were wrong! But not that many, tbh. She’s the only person getting shit done, and she does it with flair. I love and support her and always will <3

[this is 70% a shitpost, I am open to being dragged but do it lovingly. askbox is open if you want to fight <3 (affectionate) ]

[sophieinwonderland]

u have a v distinct way of doing things and i am v aware of it so i play by ur methods. i will take this excessively diplomatically so no one can possibly misconstrue my words

i made the original post ab this whole thing. in spite of having been labeled as anti endo (and a singlet for some reason) i’m not rly. i have been involved in the plural community long before my DID dx and my last bf was a veritbonder. i have seen the endo community from the inside and don’t have issues w it.

my problem is the disingenuous nature of many syscoursers, and you are not excluded from this. i could do the same thing as you have done and explain why i think PNES should just be called regular seizures and they’re exactly the same now. there are many sources where they have been called seizures for years and years. but language changes, and i know you know this. it is one of your whole arguments as to why you are for the use of tulpa. to you, that word means something different than its origins.

to me, as a bodily semiverbal person, these terms mean something different. these words have evolved within the community that they were applied to. the system community, both endogenic and traumagenic, is dissociated (ha) from the semi/nonverbal community at large. you don’t know how we use these words because you literally do not participate in our community or culture. just like someone who commented on one of your other posts said, this is exactly like when verbal autistics who lose speech insist that saying “go nonverbal” doesn’t hurt nonverbal people.

as i said in my original post, and yet people somehow become unable to read for one sentence, if one headmate fronts for a significant amount of time that you could be considered semiverbal as one body, then you can do that. you are very disingenuous with your “bodily experiences” post, even though i am very sure you understand what people mean by that. my entire body regardless of any headmate fronting will always be semiverbal or nonverbal as my brain damage progresses. i use these words to tell people that as a body i cannot speak how you speak. if i had some headmates that couldn’t talk i would just say that. those specific ones can’t talk. my body is verbal overall.

if you go into our communities, we will hear you say “i am nonverbal” and will assume that your body does not and cannot speak. we will defer to you and seek to uplift your voice as one of the most disabled members of our society. our community is based around intersectionality and understanding that there are people more disabled than you. it is the job of verbal people to listen to me, and it is my job to listen to nonverbal people.

if you use these terms just for yourself. just between you and your therapist. between you and your friends. then no, it doesn’t matter. it was never about that. it is about the community and community implications of people who are objectively less disabled taking a word for people who are more so.

headmates can be people, they can do that, but a single body exists. you can’t just ignore that. i don’t become white when my white headmate fronts. i don’t gain the ability to walk unaided when abled headmates front. i don’t become less disabled in any way. i don’t become verbal.

and if you want to counter with abled systems can have alters that can’t walk, because i know you just want to, we don’t call it paralysis. we call it functional, somatic, or psychogenic paralysis. it works differently in the body just the same. you can’t insert yourself into semi/nonverbal spaces any more than you can insert yourself into a SCI support group.

i could do the same thing as you have done and explain why i think PNES should just be called regular seizures and they’re exactly the same now. there are many sources where they have been called seizures for years and years. but language changes, and i know you know this.

I'm already lost...

Is there some sort of discourse claiming that you can't call psychogenic non-epileptic seizures... seizures?

and if you want to counter with abled systems can have alters that can’t walk, because i know you just want to, we don’t call it paralysis. we call it functional, somatic, or psychogenic paralysis.

Or that psychogenic paralysis isn't a valid type of paralysis?

The cause may be different, but there are a ton of different causes for various conditions.

Someone blinded by an eye disease is blind. Someone blinded by their eyes being physically damaged is blind. Someone who experiences psychogenic blindness is blind.

Likewise, psychogenic paralysis IS paralysis. And a psychogenic non-epileptic seizure IS a seizure. You can add a qualifier to that... but it's not necessary.

if you go into our communities, we will hear you say “i am nonverbal” and will assume that your body does not and cannot speak.

That could be a fair assumption with no context. Although I... frankly doubt this happens often, or is a mistake that lasts long without being corrected.

If someone hears me say "I'm a cis woman" without context, I'm sure they would wrongfully assume I mean that the body is AFAB.

Obviously, it's important to try to mitigate miscommunications like these. But I assume that if you're dealing with a system with nonverbal headmates, you'll realize shortly the error. Unless that nonverbal headmate is the host or is otherwise fronting all or most of the time, in which case... maybe the miscommunication isn't as important as you think it is. 🤷‍♀️

our community is based around intersectionality and understanding that there are people more disabled than you. it is the job of verbal people to listen to me, and it is my job to listen to nonverbal people.

And this, I think is a mistake. At least when taken to the extremes I see here.

First... I'm really not comfortable with the idea of "more disabled" here. Sure, you can kind of apply this in specific contexts to try to say recurrent symptoms aren't as bad because they don't happen as often... but having your legs randomly give out while crossing the street might be more harmful than being a fulltime wheelchair user who wouldn't have been in that situation.

I'm also not comfortable with this thought in this specific case as it suggests that the nonverbal singlet is "more disabled" than the traumagenic DID system with severe memory loss and c-PTSD who has nonverbal headmates, and therefore gets a right to police their terms.

But let's say for the sake of argument this has merit and DID systems with nonverbal headmates are "less disabled" than nonverbal singlets:

Yes, you should absolutely listen to people with disabilities. Especially severe ones. But...

Dysphoric transgender people are technically more disabled (in that specific context) than non-dysphoric ones.

The same logic you're using could just as easily be used to support transmedicalists over non-dysphoric transgender people. Actually, the same logic HAS been used this way. Repeatedly. It's one of the main talking points employed by transmeds to garner sympathy.

There HAS to be more critical thought put into these issues than just "listen to the most disabled people in the room," which in this context really feels more like "accept what the most vocal members of a group say on a given platform without question."

This is also the logic sysmeds use against endogenic and non-disordered systems.

"We're disabled trauma survivors, so therefore you're supposed to listen to us when we claim this other marginalized group of people aren't real and their experiences aren't valid, and they aren't allowed to use terms we claim are ours regardless of whether those terms originally were or not. If you disagree with us then you're ableist."

We cannot afford to normalize this sort of exclusionism and gatekeeping.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta if I started a different discord chat for my friend group just to exclude one person

I know it sounds bad and that I'm just starting shit but we've all been friends for 10+ years now so it's not something I'm considering lightly. We currently have a private discord server of just the 4 of us that we switched to as opposed to a traditional gc since we all have different phones and its good for having multiple conversations, quality photos and videos, and keeping a clear record of when and where plans are made

Anyway, this isn't a recent problem but the friend (A) has always had a tardiness problem it started with her not being able to wake up early in the morning but even if we have late night/afternoon plans she still can't get dressed and/or finish her makeup on time and causes us to be consistently at least 1 hour late which I was hoping she'd start growing out of after highschool but this isn't the case (we're now all 22+) and is especially frustrating when going out to eat bc by the time we leave all of us are hangry and expected to eat hours earlier. Recently A has started prioritizing other friends of hers which is nbd she can have other friends we all do except she'll drop plans last min with us to go with them which is also annoying bc it's disrespectful for the rest of us to be blown off like that. We're clearly not her priority anymore but she always expects to be ours, plans have to be on her work schedule, on her timeframe, on if she will be tired etc. plus being an afterthought leaves out a friend in the group (B) who had to move out of state with family and now he can't tell if we're making plans behind *his* back and he feels left in the dark when in truth he knows as much as I and the other local friend (C) do

It's to the point we've stopped doing any plans that start before like 2pm because we can't rely on her to be ready but she'll be upset if we don't wait for her while she's still getting ready, esp cuz we usually carpool, which already limits what we want to do together in the first place

However, it was my birthday recently and I'm currently ~2hr drive (no more than 3 with heavy traffic) from A and C, who doesn't have a car and needs to be picked up by A. I really wanted to go to my fav breakfast place and had some other plans for after and I kept emphasizing what time A needed to get here because the place closes early (they only serve breakfast). And at this point no one should be surprised she didn't arrive until after 1pm, after the place was closed, and at that point no one had eaten all day so we had to rush and find somewhere else that'd be open and nearby bc we were all starving and half my plans for the day were gone bc they were based on places we'd go after breakfast that also close in the afternoon (2-5 depending on the place) and since they are my closest friends and dont know my other friends who live closer and I've only known for less than 2 yrs (who I wasn't comfortable to ask for bday presents from yet still) (still got one from 1 even tho I insisted they didn't have to tho lol) they were the only people I made solid birthday plans with this year so it was really heartbreaking to deal with and have everything I was excited for be cancelled since it's hard for me to go out like this on my own w anxiety and busy work schedule too but I scheduled the day off. I was hoping that she would try even just a little bit because it was my birthday the one day I ask for literally anything and we rarely see each other now bc of conflicting work schedules and I DID plan for her to be semi late in secret but I didn't expect her to arrive for breakfast after 12

Anyway that's the whole backstory plus the recent straw on the camel's back but I just want to make a new chat between me, B, and C, to plan virtual movie and game nights bc she never reads the events chat anyway and all our online call plans grind to a halt for hours or days waiting for an answer bc at least C still wants to try and include A even tho her schedule is so busy or she's tired or will prob be late to the call and make us wait for her or cancel or leave early or we debate what game/movie A wants but she doesn't even NEED to be there it's just like.. Minecraft. Or a pirated 90s movie we're streaming or wtvr

I've tried saying like "hey I'm gonna be playing x on Saturday if anyone's free come and join me" but that usually just ends in me gaming alone bc it's so noncommittal the others will catch up on other work they have but really I'm just trying to hang with any of them even if 1 person can't make it at the time we don't always have to only call in a group yk?

A is nice otherwise like she's still my friend just planning anything with her is starting to be like pulling teeth and I still want to keep in touch with her and hear how she's doing from our discord server but stuff like that I just want to start separating her from weekly calls (which are currently more like monthly) bc she's so flakey but I know it's kinda shitty to purposefully leave her out and she'd be upset if she ever found out I was doing that.

I'm also open to advice on how to deal with this situation in general, thus the detail, without causing a huge fight or make anyone pick sides +her tardiness won't be something we can talk through it's something we've worked on for years and recently have just given up and accepted since she's late even to things that are important to her

What are these acronyms?

[moa-broke-me]

Nico finding an injured baby hydra, about to walk away and let it die because hello, hydra... But then he's like... Oh wait. It's a baby.

And it's hurt.

Someone hurt a baby.

So he takes it home, bandages it up, tries to feed it eggs, rats, hamburger meat, anything. It rejects the offer every time, like it doesn't recognize that it's food at all. It's getting thin, the two hungry mouths trying to eat his hand every time he nears it, and he's panicking. So he caves in and summons a cadaver to feed it because he's out of ideas and he's not letting this baby starve. It's little, so its mouths can only hold about a finger each, but it's enough.

He keeps it in a terrarium at first, but it starts to grow, and Nico concedes an entire bedroom just for his baby. He stops saying 'it', naming the heads Mercury and Medusa, still feeding them dead bodies he summons from the ground. Between the two of them, they can eat an entire leg now, though they still don't need to eat very often. He tries to keep the bodies fresh, the downstairs bathtub now permanently filled with ice to keep them from rotting any further.

They're the size of a toddler, excluding the necks that stretch their heads to his waist, and he tries to dress them in clothes they'll like, but it's hard to find clothes with two neck holes and even harder to communicate. They speak in hisses and gestures, not in words. He tries to teach them sign language, and it works, but some signs require two hands, and they can only control one hand each. They bicker and fight over what they should say, even biting each other a few times, which he has to clean and bandage up. Thank goodness their venom hasn't developed yet, the first time it happened he had a heart attack.

He tries not to take them out too often, but they need the sunlight. It's the only way they can stay warm, so he takes them in a backpack, their lower body hidden, their heads on his shoulders. The mist turns them into mere pet snakes, and most avoid them. He doesn't care. He's out having fun with his babies.

Percy finds out, and he's terrified. Nico's like a little brother to him, and he's in danger. He comes to Nico's house, tries to reason with him, tries to remind him that this is a monster, that there's a reason we try to kill them while they're small.

Nico's not having it. "They're harmless, Percy. At least to me."

"So it's never tried to bite you?"

"They" He started through gritted teeth, desperately trying to assert their personhood. "only did that when they were hungry. That's the whole problem, as long as you're good to them, they'll be fine. It's only when you, oh, I dunno, try to chop their heads off. That's when they become dangerous."

"... One day, you'll forget." He insists. "Or it's gonna want something fresher. And it's gonna come after you. Please," He's choking up now, Riptide glinting in the light. "please just let me handle this."

Nico's heart drops to his stomach. "No... No!" He lets out a guttural scream. "I don't care if they're gonna rip me apart one day, they're my babies! They're the only family I have, and I love them, and I'm not letting you take that away from me again!"

"That thing doesn't know what love is!"

"... How... Fucking... Dare you!?"

Nico lunges at him, and there's a fight, a physical fight, one that ends with Percy getting knocked out.

When he comes to again, he's in a bedroom on the floor.

Tied up.

Face to face with the two-headed beast.

The twins, Mercury and Medusa, have their first live catch.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

What if the reader and Stanley bonded over the buckets? Like decorating them and customizing them!

"This is great, Stanley! What could be better than hanging out in the broom closet and decorating our buckets?”

“..actually going on with the story?!!! Or literally anything else?! I can’t even recognize the metallic shininess of your bucket anymore, [y/n]. What was the matter with my two stickers? Were they boring? Too bland? Well..I apologize for not having an infinite amount at my disposal.”

Looking up, you just scoffed at Narrator, sensing his bitterness as you clutched your decorated bucket with pride. “I wasn’t talking to you. Besides it’s not like we can take off your dumb stickers, so we’re stuck with them regardless. Be lucky I didn’t decide to paint over them.”

All you got in response was a loud gasp of horror, as though you’ve just written him a review worse than Cookie9′s. “WHY...I’D...NEVER....!!!” 

The poor guy was probably hunched over his desk, clutching his pearls.

An amused smile graced your lips as you envisioned that. ‘Yeah, that’s pretty funny..’

Then you felt a nudge on your shoulder and looked to see Stanley present his bucket to you, lightly smiling. It had some stamps and small paintings on all sides. Excluding the Property of Stanley sticker, these new additions made it unique only to him.

For countless resets, he’s been lugging this bucket around, finding both comfort and numbness in it as he carried it throughout the office. And it’s been his only companion until you somehow entered the parable with your own bucket, assuming it was just an ordinary work day until you found him.

He showed you his favorite places in the building, such as the broom closet where you proposed the idea of decorating your respective buckets just to take a break from the story.

Although Narrator tried speaking for Stanley’s bucket by saying “that’s a horrible idea, I am perfectly content with these stickers”, your coworker thought the opposite and happily joined you in the closet. You had to go search the building a bit for more paints, and Stanley stayed despite Narrator’s insistence that he kept going.

Yeah, you could hear his complaints, too, but luckily you were the only one who could respond to him verbally. 

The three of you knew the reality of your world, so...why did he wanna get back to a story that wasn’t gonna end anyway?

None of it made sense, but doing this little “art project” brought both you and Stanley a sense of...peace. It was therapeutic in a way, and neither of you heard any protests from the buckets.

Narrator severely underestimated your attachment to them.

“I think he’s just jealous,” you muttered to Stanley, who grinned and silently chuckled in response, earning yet another chuff from a certain British man.

“Oh good, good..just go on and giggle like a bunch of schoolgirls at a sleepover. See if I care! I’ll be waiting outside whenever you’re both finished....”

As his voice faded out, you sighed in relief. ‘Thank god. It’s just us and the buckets now.’

When he did eventually reset the game, you and Stanley simply reunited in the same spot with your respective buckets, beaming with pride while he groaned.

They were still decorated beautifully.

[sjsmith56]

Away Mission - Part 3

Summary: Sloan continues her investigations, then is forced to hide when her workplace is targeted. Bucky finishes his intelligence gathering and requests extraction but is discovered by someone from his past.

Length: 4.4 K

Characters: Sloan, OFC, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Jack Rollins, OMC.

Warnings: Bucky recalling abuse while with HYDRA, violence, Bucky immobilized, crude and suggestive language, homophobia, OMC recalls past trauma.

Part 2

🚪 ✈️

Part 3

Sloan

Working with Tess Murray had opened me up to a whole new level of investigative reporting. She had contacts everywhere, people who fed her bits and pieces of information that she somehow assembled into a complete story. How she convinced those people to talk to her was still her secret but there was no doubt that she was the type of person who could topple dictators. Right from the first teaser story that we put out a month ago, about Bucky signing a contract with Excalibur Security Group, she had insisted that my name also be attached to the pieces she filed.

“You’re doing the grunt work,” she said. “Finding the background on these people who are making things happen away from the public eye. I just get the names from my contacts.”

“Some of them really don’t seem the type to be that influential behind the scenes,” I responded. “I mean, look at this guy.” I pulled up a picture of a man on my laptop, who was supposedly another hire of ESG, according to her contact. “Jake Roberts, aged 49. According to your contact, Roberts was on SHIELD’s Strike team, yet no one by that name or with that face is in any of the documentation that was released by Natasha Romanoff in 2014.”

Tess looked closely at him, then shrugged. “My contacts just give me the names. The thing about mercenaries is that there are some that are exactly what they say they are. Then there are some that aren’t; they’re wanna-be soldiers who pad their resumes just like some of the sad guys who long to be movers and shakers in the business world. Roberts is a bit old to be playing the mercenary game, your ex-boyfriend excluded. He can always claim his record was destroyed when the Triskelion came down.” She dismissed my concern then looked up at me. “Speaking of sad guys, when are you going to put Devlin Horne out of his misery and take him up on his offer of drinks?”

I shut my laptop down and rolled my eyes. The man had been persistent that we should go for drinks. It was beginning to really irritate me. Now Tess was encouraging me to move on? While she went to the ladies' room I stayed to work on some more research. When she returned, she asked if she could make a private call, so I picked up my laptop and left to the sound of her apologizing. As I headed towards the shared office where my desk still was, I heard a commotion from the lobby. There was yelling then I heard the distinctive sounds of gunfire, and I dropped lower to orient myself and hide from the shooter. Bucky had shared with me many times how to survive a workplace shooting and I was surprised to find myself reacting exactly how he had advised. Since escape was impossible, as the lobby was the only exit to the elevators and stairwell, my next option was to hide. As I was right beside my shared office I ducked inside, closed and locked the door then turned off the light. Dropping my laptop on the nearest desk I went to the other side of it and pushed it towards the door, blocking it. Then I went to the next desk and found myself staring into the frightened eyes of Emily, one of our celebrity gossip writers. She was new, starting just a few days ago.

“You okay?” I whispered. She nodded, still terrified. “Stay there, don’t make a sound, no matter what.”

I hid under another desk, scrunched up underneath and pulled the chair in tight. We could hear the gunfire occasionally, then there was a bigger explosion and I wondered if it was a bomb. Someone pulled the fire alarm and for a moment I thought it was a decoy to pull us out of hiding. There was pounding on the door, then the sound of breaking glass, and I could hear the desk being moved.

“Sloan? Are you in here?” It was Devlin, sounding surprisingly calm. “It’s okay, the shooters are down. I pulled the fire alarm to bring the authorities, so we should be okay.”

I pushed the chair out of the way, then started to crawl out. Emily came out as well and that’s when I saw the gun in her hand, pointed at me. Devlin saw it also and if I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it, but he vaulted over the desk that he pushed out of the way and kicked Emily in the shoulder knocking her down enough for her gun to go flying. In one smooth move he pulled a gun out of his waistband and held it to her head.

“Nope,” he said to her. “You’re done, Emily, or should I say, Amelia.” He looked at me. “She’s a contract killer, hired by Excalibur to take you out. This attempt at a random workplace shooting was all to provide a cover for her real target.”

“Me? I’m just the researcher for Tess Murray,” I explained.

“You’re more than that,” said Devlin, as he pulled handcuffs out of another pocket. “Cuff her, tight. I’ve already taken care of Murray.”

As he forced Emily onto her stomach and bring her hands behind her back, I did as he said, then a familiar face walked in, and I slumped back against the desk. Sam Wilson was in his full suit, and he pulled Emily up from the ground, handing her off to a man behind him in a plain tactical suit.

“What the hell is going on?” I was completely confused.

Devlin pressed a button on his neck, revealing his face to be electronically generated. When he peeled it off, I was looking at Clint Barton, retired Avenger. Now I wasn’t just confused, I was also a little angry.

“It’s been you this whole time?”

“Actually, no,” replied Clint. “I mean Devlin was watching you on behalf of SHIELD but when we got an upload of data from Bucky about a month ago that said an attempt might be made on your life and on Tess Murray, Fury decided to pull me in on the mission for extra surveillance. A few days ago, we had a new development and Devlin was put on another assignment so that I could take his place, considering he’s been hitting on you more than guarding you. I was watching both you and Tess Murray, but it became obvious that she wasn’t what she made herself out to be. Then when little Miss Sunshine was tailed to Murray’s penthouse last week, Red Wing picked up a very interesting conversation, about the hit going down today. They were going to make it look like a guy who was revealed to be a child predator in one of the Daily’s news stories come to take his revenge.” He smirked. “Their first plan was to make it look like Bucky killed you and Devlin in a fit of jealousy. Tess noticed he was always asking you out for drinks and thought it made the perfect cover story. It would also keep Bucky captive with Excalibur Security Group, her real employer. She was able to keep track of who got too close to the truth with that company.”

“Why me?” I asked, then another thought hit me. “Wait, Bucky sent you data?”

“Surprised me, too,” said Sam. “He’s been on a deep undercover assignment, so deep he had to burn all of his bridges convincing Excalibur that he was for sale. I only found out when they heard from Bucky again.” His face grew serious. “He called for extraction, but we haven’t been able to find him. So, we’re going to start with Tess Murray and Amelia VanderMas … Emily.”

That’s when I lost it for real, and both Sam and Clint came to me, offering comfort. As they led me out of the office, I grabbed my laptop. If Tess Murray was working for Excalibur Security Group it meant she was feeding me the names herself, burning the identities of those operatives. It was possible some of them weren’t with the group willingly. We just had to find out who. Since I had access to a lot of shared documents as her researcher, I had a place to start. I just hoped they could find Bucky before Excalibur Security Group realized he was undercover.

Bucky

I checked the restraints that held me in the cargo hold of the transport aircraft, figuring they were probably vibranium, designed to keep me confined. It had been a few rough days, that started with the discovery that one of the mercenaries hired as part of the larger contingent, was actually Jack Rollins, former member of SHIELD’s Strike team, and HYDRA operative. Going by the name Jake Roberts, and with a different face, courtesy of extensive plastic surgery, I still couldn’t believe he got the drop on me when he did.

I had just finished my last upload of data to the SHIELD cloud, sending them everything about the plan to invade Wakanda, including the bribe of specific border agents, and diplomats from other countries there on legitimate business. Then I activated my extraction code by speaking the phrase “I want to reclaim my past.” That should have signalled Fury to send in a team to the camp we were in, located in the mountains of the Limpopo Province of South Africa. At the time I was alone, or at least I thought I was, but when I turned around Roberts was there, an evil grin on his face. I hadn’t dealt much with him, but he was always watching me. Now, as he came towards me with a gun, I could smell his aftershave and it all came rushing back where I had smelled it before. Shaking my head, I readied myself to take him down, then he said a word, a single word, ledopad, Russian for icefall, and I couldn’t move a muscle.

“Well, well, well,” he grinned. “If it isn’t the Asset. Didn’t know about the freeze command, did you? Wish I had known before I found it deep in a HYDRA file, a little fail-safe that was programmed into you.” He stood in front of me and spat into my face. “That’s for all of my friends that you hurt when you would have one of your tantrums.”

I tried to work past the paralysis that had frozen me, but I couldn’t, until he grasped my jaw and whispered govorit’, Russian for speak. My jaw loosened, as his spittle dripped off my face.

“I thought you were in the Raft,” I muttered.

“I was, until a well-placed bribe got me out,” he answered. “My skills were appreciated by someone but with my face being known I had to change it. My first assignment was to find out where the others were, but so many were dead or incarcerated, so I was given other work to do, things that HYDRA trained me for. I was lent out to various organizations, a few assassinations here, some bombings there, and acquired a nice nest egg if I ever wanted to retire. But I didn’t because somehow, I knew I would be the one to reel you back in. When you and your bird friend took down the Flag Smashers, I saw an opportunity and helped set up the perfect trap.”

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked, although I had a pretty good idea.

“I’m going to take you to the next incarnation of HYDRA,” he answered. “Only this time, there won’t be anything left for that Wakandan bitch to fix. You’ll be the Winter Soldier forever and I’ll be your handler.” He leaned in real close, so that his mouth was at my ear. “I bet you remember how I liked it, right?”

If I could have killed him then I would have done it and slept easy for the rest of my life. Rollins always was a bastard, a sick one at that. He had taken advantage of me often, him and Rumlow teaming up against me more than once. The abuse I suffered at their hands took a long time to deal with. I wasn’t about to roll over and let him start up again, so I played along. The word he used to freeze me hadn’t been deactivated but now that he said it in my presence and I remembered it there were ways I could fight against it, ways that Shuri had made possible. It would just take time, some meditation and some luck to get to the point where I had control of that word.

The first thing Rollins did, after our little reunion was give me a tranquilizer, likely an overdose of ketamine which would knock me out long enough for him to carry me out. He did and when I came to in a helicopter in flight, I was restrained by vibranium cuffs on both my wrists and ankles. He looked over at me as we flew.

“My superiors were very pleased that I was able to take you down without damage,” he said. “The cuffs are courtesy of them. It took them a long time to accumulate that metal, but they knew the opportunity to get you away from the Avengers would come and once you were isolated it would be easy enough for one motivated man to capture you.”

I looked at him, wondering if the attack on Wakanda was all a ruse to get me away from the Avengers. He laughed. The man was ugly before and ugly still even with his new face. His laughing face was downright maniacal.

“You’re just seeing it now, aren’t you?” he asked. “Excalibur’s client was HYDRA. They do have plans to take Wakanda, but they’ll wait on them until you’re ready and prepared to obey orders without question. They knew that your reluctance to be an assassin meant you had acquired a conscience in the years you were free. You should have just lied to the Colonel. He knew from the start you were lying about being here for the money and when you destroyed my bug it was just confirmation that you were there under false pretences.”

He received a transmission on his headset and acknowledged it, telling the helicopter pilot to put it down at an airfield where a large transport aircraft was. A couple of burly men came out, one with a firearm and one with a tranquilizer gun. Before I could even try to take them on, I felt the sting of a needle in my neck again, no doubt from another ketamine shot.

Except, the body of a super soldier is a wondrous thing. When a sedative is injected that the body isn’t familiar with it allows the full effects to be felt by the subject. But it remembers that substance and the next time it’s injected the body metabolizes it, almost instantly. I acted like it worked, letting my head loll over to the side, and being a full dead weight as they hauled me out of there and onto the aircraft. During all that time I played a little mind game with myself, succeeding in neutralizing the effects of the Russian word ledopad. When I “awakened” this time, I was in the cargo hold of that aircraft, it was in the air, and I was under the watchful eye of Jack Rollins aka Jake Roberts, and the rest of my “team” all watching me, some with smirks on their faces. Shifting so that I leaned against the fuselage I looked at all of them in turn, remembering their weaknesses during training. They all had them, even Rollins, and now that I was in a confined space with them, I figured I would start taking advantage of those weaknesses, and the strengths of two of them in particular.

“So, where are we going now?” I asked, trying to sound confident. “Let me guess, Siberia. The lab where there is still a working memory processing machine since I destroyed the one in Washington. You do know the one in Siberia took damage when Cap and I took on Ironman there.” I registered some surprise in the eyes of the two I hoped still had a conscience. I focused on Ducharme, speaking to him in French. “Never took you to be a fascist, Henri. An opportunist because of your circumstances, yes, but Roberts here is HYDRA. You remember them. I’m pretty sure you were affected by a HYDRA attack on an office building where your brother was killed. I was in cold storage then. They kept me hidden unless they had a high-profile target. But for run of the mill terror stuff they had plenty of willing men to do their dirty work. Cogsworth, for example. If he hadn’t become a mercenary, killing, looting and raping for money, he would have wasted his life as a soccer hooligan. That’s where he was headed until he was recruited to help burn an orphanage in Rwanda.” Ducharme’s face grew dark, and he glanced at the Englishman Cogsworth, a waste of skin I didn’t want on the team as his only skill was being a bully. “I know you’re only in this because you made a mistake that got you kicked out of the military. Your wife, and your three kids have no idea that this is how you put food on the table. It’s a shame you weren’t given a second chance. I mean, I got one. Look how many people I killed but then I had people who believed I was still worth saving. I believe in you, Henri. It’s not too late.”

By the way Ducharme was breathing I could tell he was wavering. The guy did have a core of decency and I meant it that I believed he was worth saving. But he couldn’t do it alone, so I looked at the lone African on the team. Daniel Nwabi was an orphan, turned into a child soldier by some megalomaniac, then rescued by a group who tried to undo years of abuse, drug addiction, and programming inflicted on those kids, most of whom had no chance. I addressed him in Swahili.

“You’re going to help them enslave me, Daniel? Do you remember how helpless you were under the control of Red Jungle? They filled you with drugs, put a gun in your hand and pointed you towards innocent people, saying they were the reason you were a slave. What would Sister Mercy and Father Thierry think if they could see you now? They believed in you, believed you had a future. But you let your demons convince you otherwise. I know all about the demons, Daniel. 70 years of not being in control, killing who they told me to kill. They beat me, raped me, starved me and I still did what they wanted because I didn’t know any better until someone who cared convinced me there was still a good man inside. I’ve been trying my best since then and I’ve lived a good life. This mission was my way of paying back those who helped me, keeping them safe.”

“Shut up,” said Daniel. “You know nothing about me.”

“But I do. Excalibur keeps a full file on everyone. I’ve seen it all, know it all. They keep it so that you’re dependent on them, but I read it to understand why you were part of this. You’ve been paying back the families of your victims, making it possible for their children to go to school and learn a trade so they can take care of their own families. You stood up to an Excalibur unit to protect them and they gave you a choice to join or watch them die. It’s a noble thing, Daniel. But if you help Roberts take me back to the people who kept me their slave for 70 years, nothing will make up for that because they will unleash me on the world, and no one will be able to stop me. I don’t want that. I like living the life of a free man and I haven’t killed since I became one.”

When he looked sideways at Rollins, I knew I had Daniel on my side. Then I glanced at Henri Ducharme, and he nodded subtly at me. To make this work I had to have either my legs or my arms free. I looked at Rollins next.

“I have to take a piss,” I said.

“Go ahead,” he smirked.

I shrugged. “I just thought for old times' sake you might want a look at it,” I said, licking my lips suggestively. “Maybe even cop a feel. You can keep my hands restrained, just undo one of the ankle ones so I can walk to the head.”

There was a look of disgust on some of the other men’s faces, obviously a little homophobic, although the type of abuse that Rollins and Rumlow gave me was all about control, not sexual desire, but give a guy like that an opening and they’ll take it. I could see the wheels turning and he nodded, then leaned over and unlocked one of my ankle restraints. It was all I needed, and I kicked him in the chest, sending him flying into the fuselage. Henri and Daniel moved as well, taking out the men next to them, hitting them hard enough that they didn’t move after. While Daniel held the others with his gun, Henri unlocked the restraints. I went over to Rollins and picked him up by the collar.

He said ledopad, then his eyes grew wide when I didn’t respond like I did before. Before he could say another word, because there was always another word, I clamped my hand down over his mouth.

“You’re so limited,” I spat. “Where’s your cell phone?”

Even as he shook his head, I saw his eyes drift to his jacket pocket, so I hit him, knocked him out and reached inside for the phone. It needed a thumbprint and I put his thumb on the sensor to open it, then I dialled Fury, hoping the aircraft didn’t have a dampening field on it. When the call didn’t go through, I realized it did which meant I wasn’t being tracked. I looked at Henri and Daniel and made an executive decision.

“Immunity on everything associated with this mission,” I offered. “You tie them up, gag Roberts as well, help out at our destination, and I’ll make sure you receive a reward for helping.”

“Who do you work for?” asked Henri. “I mean you were kicked out of the Avengers.”

“Publicly, with great fanfare,” I smiled. “It was set up that way. I’m still an Avenger. No offence but mercenary isn’t a good career move, especially for men with a conscience. Do we have a deal?”

They looked at each other and nodded. I offered my hand to both of them, shaking on it. Then I grabbed a handgun and went to the cockpit. Aiming a gun at the head of the pilot I coughed. The co-pilot looked back at me, startled.

“If you shoot him, I can’t control the aircraft by myself,” he declared.

I looked over the cockpit and smirked. “Sure, you can,” I said. “I could fly this bucket of bolts. Turn off the dampening field.” They looked at each other and I pressed the gun further into the pilot’s head. “Now.”

The pilot nodded and the co-pilot flicked the switch. I dialled Fury again and this time he picked up on the first ring.

“Where the hell are you?” he asked. “Never mind, we’ve just picked up your signal. You’re flying over restricted airspace, Iran. Where’s your destination?”

I pressed the gun into the pilot’s head again. “Belarus,” he said. “A base in Belarus.”

“You heard that?” I asked. “Wakanda was a decoy although they intended on going back after they turned me back into the Soldier. I have an old friend in back … Rollins.”

“I thought he was in the Raft,” replied Fury, and I could imagine him getting someone right on that inquiry.

“A significant bribe was paid to get him out,” I told him. “Underwent plastic surgery but the asshole still wore the same aftershave. It’s HYDRA, they’re Excalibur’s client. Colonel William Moorehouse was in command of the force, so he’s likely been HYDRA’s boy for a while. How do you want to play this, Fury? I have two friendlies with me that I promised immunity and a reward to.”

“To the end,” he said, not reacting to my announcement of the two friendlies. “I’ll activate the rest of the Avengers and we’ll portal into your destination. They made an attempt on Sloan but she’s okay. Sam and Clint know the truth as I read them in. I’ll read the rest in, and we’ll track you. Keep the signal going and good work, Barnes.”

I felt a presence behind me and turned slightly, without letting my eyes off of the pilots, as I placed the phone in my pocket.

“They’re all tied up back there,” said Henri. “What’s next?”

“Keep an eye on these two until I get back,” I said. “Don’t let them flip that switch and don’t let them call for help. I really do have to go to the bathroom. We’re going to Belarus and we’re taking on a base there. You and Daniel are with me, but we’ll have to get you something distinctive to wear, so the Avengers don’t shoot you as hostile.” I turned to let Henri take my place then I stopped. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you for reminding me why I resisted being a mercenary for so long,” he said. “I was desperate but not for this.”

“Well, SHIELD is always looking for a few good men,” I answered, sincere.

He grinned and I left him to guard the pilots while I relieved myself. On the way out I saw a couple of safety vests. They were different enough that my two new friends wouldn’t be mistaken for the Excalibur or HYDRA soldiers. We just had to find out what was at this base in Belarus before I could officially believe this mission was over. Then I had another job to do. I had to make up with my friends and with Sloan, and hope that I could make it right with them.

Part 4

Short Fiction Masterlist

Series Masterlist

[h-d-w-g-h]

Hi this is the post explaining the au.

The “How Did We Get Here AU” is an idea that’s been marinating in my brain for a while now. It’s time to finally talk about it.

As stated in Zimvoid, every Zim has a thing. This Zim’s thing is that he was assigned to go to Earth way earlier than in canon. When they get there, his spaceship malfunctions resulting in it crashing right into the Membrane household. He assumes Gaz and Prof dead as Dib is the only one showing any signs of life.

Zim’s leg got injured in the crash and so he decides to postpone invading Earth for when they heal. They leave Earth for the time being, but decide to take Dib with them as they think an alien life form might be useful. 

Then, still loyal to the Empire, Zim returns to Irk to watch Operation Impending Doom II unfold. Around the same time, Zim also has to amputate its lower right leg, as an infection settles in.

As time goes by Zim tries to plan out his Earth invasion. He communicates with the Tallest, or rather tries, they ignore or ridicule him most of the time. The thing is, Zim is actually making progress, his creations are good. The Tallest however don’t care due to Zim’s record. 

While all that is going on, Zim is also taking care of the human he took from Earth. He mostly treats him like one would a pet, it is a child after all, not very smart. He knows the very basics when it comes to human needs. Zim does not know the child’s name, nor does he want to name them. Dib gets the nickname “Stinky” (playing on how Zim uses the word Stink quite lot in the canon)

Time passes and Zim cuts ties with the Empire. They’ve done nothing but disrespected him despite his trials. They failed to provide for him as an Invader. Cutting ties also means moving out. For a while Zim and Stinky just jump between different planets to see what sticks. They’re trying to avoid Irken colonies, but don’t exclude them completely. 

When Stinky gets even older, Zim sees some form of intelligence in the alien. They start schooling him for something like a second GIR. Stinky is very much interested in the technology shown so he obeys.

They make their (hopefully) forever home on Cyberflox. It’s hard at first, it isn’t the most friendly environment, but they manage to get by. Stinky seems to do fairly good. He gets along with most citizens and figures out ways to deal with the unwelcoming planet. Eventually the same happens to Zim, the aliens “warmed up” to them as they’re no longer an Invader, nor in support of the Empire. 

While Zim did cut ties with the Empire, there are Irkens it still talks with to have an idea of what is going on in there.

Hey, let's talk about Dib.

Dib is fully aware of not being Irken, however he tries to blend in. She styles her hair similar to an Irken antenna. She’s learned the alphabet and knows her way with Irken technology. They are really persistent on getting a PAK of their own, they believe they can modify it to fit a human. Zim however insists that he doesn’t need one.

Dib knows fairly little about Earth. Zim did provide him with some information on Earth, but it is very lacking. The most visible human thing about either is their wardrobe.

Stinky is in no way, shape or form recognized as a child of Zim (or whatever the alien equivalent would be). He’s merely a person living in the same place as Zim. Zim doesn’t like acknowledging Stinky as its child, Dib however mostly refers to Zim as dad.

Dib is open to learning about alien cultures and is somewhat fluent in different alien dialects. He’s enthusiastic about machinery design and focuses on becoming a robotics engineer. Yet their enthusiasm sometimes leads to mistakes that can cause a need to start over. From scratch.

While Zim is rather cold and hostile to the idea of being a parent, then he does care for the kid.

AND the care is mutual, when needed - Dib will provide to the best of her abilities for Zim.

The two enjoy working on tech together, participate in usual child-parent activities and often go to just have fun on Cyberflox. Zim takes Stinky with him almost everywhere he goes. He knows Dib would most likely be fine left alone, but there is that irk of worry. They're often snarky to each other, but never abusive. So yeah, that's it. That's the au.

[bcbdrums]

Yeah I’m gonna talk about it.

You admitted harassing me to @drakgo-reblogs

A month!? A MONTH!!??

Excluding the PM’s which have gone on for over a year, here’s the most recent and first anon asks.

Check those dates. This week, and almost a year ago. PM’s from nuked accounts happened months before that.

Oh but there’s more. Three videos to come in showing the ask harassment, one in this post and two in follow-up posts.

Note in the first vid the DeviantArt names he sent me, he also sent to @drakgo-reblogs. To whom he kept insisting repeatedly it wasn’t him doing the harassment. Yet same random links.

Look at the dates in the videos.

@midnightcaptions @split-n-splice @gothicthundra @sharperthewriter @flowery-laser-blasts @dailysassfromshego @creatorping @simplyshelbs16xoxo @danglovely @razzmatazs @amvwolfgirl @yesimacreepweirdo @ilikethequiet

and anyone else who keeps getting messages from someone who will make some small talk about smear animation but then always goes to Kim jumping on Ron in that one scene where we get the briefest tiniest not the least bit inappropriate upskirt shot of Kim in her cheer uniform, BLOCK and report each time this guy hits you.

Years of harassment needs to come to an end.

[steve-needs-a-hug]

A feminist analysis of the Galadriel vs Sauron confrontation in the finale

After watching the Rings of Power finale twice, I keep thinking about the strong friendship/bond that was forged (hehe) between Galadriel and Halbrand and how much of it is predicated on the theme of power. As we know, this bond has been heavily romanticized by some fans, and while the actors do not exclude this interpretation, I believe the focus on possible romance is obscuring a deeper aspect of their bond - that of power dynamics.

Galadriel is thousands of years old. She has seen and endured much. However, the audience's mixed reception of her portrayal is interesting: some people say they found her unlikable and bossy, she's too arrogant and out of control. These pejoratives are commonly lobbied at women, whether in fiction or in real life, who are clearly strong-willed and ambitious (high in agency) but are perceived to lack sufficient friendliness and social tact (low in communality). The use of the 'Guyladriel' nickname further illustrates that RoP's Galadriel violates some audience members' expectations of how a female Elf behaves.

If Galadriel was male, or even if her appearance reflected the darkness within her, she would most likely be seen as a tragic anti-hero whose trauma adds a sympathetic or even romantic appeal to an otherwise stoic character (as we commonly see with the reception of edgy and/or male characters who display the same traits). She acts like Robert Pattinson's Batman (actually showing a more murderous desire for vengeance at times), but she looks like (for lack of better words) a 'nice girl', smaller in stature with soft facial features, intentionally not dissimilar to the serene and gentle Galadriel we're familiar with from the LotR movies. You can't 'see' her darkness the way that we're used to it being visually coded (dark hair/clothes, brooding, ominous presence, etc), yet it is threatening to completely consume her.

Within the show, it's also interesting to consider her reactions to the way people treat her. I'd like to make one thing clear: her soldiers, Gil-Galad, and Elrond were objectively quite justified in their reactions to her behaviour. She is clearly blinded by her singular focus on bringing Sauron to justice. My aim here is not to excuse her behaviour, but to offer an interpretation of her distress when she feels dismissed, disrespected, and not taken seriously by others.

While it is the greatest honour and reward an Elf could receive to be granted passage to Valinor, it was also a simple solution to Gil-Galad's problem - Galadriel. Her insistence on finding Sauron had become a nuisance at best, a danger at worst. And in Númenor, where she expected to be treated with reverence, it quickly became clear that Elves were being held in contempt rather than in high esteem. The Númenoreans mock her and want to send her back to where she came from. This undoubtedly worsened her feelings of everyone being against her. She expresses the isolation of being 'the only one who knows' to Míriel in the hopes that someone will finally believe her when she says the threat of Sauron is real.

TL;DR: Galadriel, who would be expected to command awe and respect, feels disrespected and cast aside. Halbrand, on the other hand, is effortlessly charming and persuasive. Although he has the appearance of a common 'low man', a grimy Southlander, Galadriel (and the audience) quickly begin to sense that there's more to him than meets the eye (comparisons to the rugged-yet-heroic Aragorn ensue). Galadriel sees potential for greatness in him, and uses it to her advantage for her own goals. He knows full well that she's using him, and her own ambition reawakens his ambition to rule over people.

In their big confrontation scene in the finale, he expresses that he wants to 'redeem' himself by healing what he helped ruin, and he wouldn't be a Dark Lord if Galadriel was by his side, binding him to the light. He is seeking moral legitimacy for his ambition to rule. It could be argued that Saurbrand is playing on age-old heterosexual narratives: The wayward man who needs to be reformed by a virtuous woman.

In exchange, he offers Galadriel what he believes she is seeking: authoritative legitimacy. While it's true that as an ancient and legendary being Sauron is literally more powerful than her, he also offers her a form of credibility, the chance to change how people see her and treat her. The alliance that Sauron proposes to her is based on the assumption that Galadriel will never be respected on her own. "All others look on you with doubt; I alone can see your greatness...your light." He preys on her feelings of isolation and being misunderstood, and tells her she needs him. As his Queen, she would be obeyed without question, loved and feared. She recognizes that despite her desire for respect, tyranny will not be the solution she needs.

Rather than complementing or completing each other, Galadriel and Halbrand are remarkably similar - they seemed to recognize each other as kindred spirits, for a time. Their confrontation in the finale really revealed where they differ on what matters most.

In summary, Saurbrand offering Galadriel access to power while wanting access to Galadriel's virtue mirrors the classic tropes of an ambitious woman who won't be taken seriously without the help of a man, and an ambitious man who needs his rough edges softened out by a good woman. These gendered power games are far from romantic in my estimation, but I'll leave that open to individual interpretation ;) Thanks for reading.

[philosophicalconservatism]

hi, how are you? 😊 just for the fun of it, i'm throwing a random question at you: are there things which you think people shouldn't be able to buy or sell or do you think there should be no restrictions? like buying/selling e.g. organs, babies, weapons, drugs, sexual favors, etc. i follow some radical feminist blogs who are very much against surrogacy and oppose people (mainly sexual minorities) who say they have a right to surrogates and that it should be covered by insurance. i was wondering what a conservative thinks about these issues. i'm just curious & eager to hear different perspectives.

Thanks for the question, and once again for following.

The phrasing of your question cries out for drawing a basic distinction between Conservatism and Libertarianism. Yet the very moment we proceed to do so we come to an initial realization. If Libertarianism is only distinguishable from other ideas of government by the fact that it embraces an “absolute” ethos of liberty, then the only genuine Libertarianism is something called Anarcho-Capitalism. This is a scenario within which every voluntary transaction is permissible, which necessarily means that there can be no political state. Every element of order within such a society is to come about as a consequence of voluntary contracts between individuals at specific moments in time (including policing and enforcement).

Any professed Libertarian that adheres to anything less than this standard does not in fact embrace a genuine Libertarianism but some specific shade of Conservatism. How can I say this? Well, let us consider why someone who calls himself a Libertarian would reject an Anarcho- Capitalist model. How would he explain himself? In explaining himself he would begin to sound very much like a passage from an Edmund Burke pamphlet. He would begin to talk about abstract ideological speculation having to give way to practical human realities, and concrete social precedent. He could not exclude something like Anarcho-Capitalism in principle, as a future possibility, but he would insist that human societies as we presently know them cannot practically assume this form.

Now once he begins to reason in this way on political matters he cannot later on decide to appeal to some “absolute” Liberal ethos to settle every political question. He must continue in his confessed understanding of the fact that politics is actually a convergence of abstract ideals and (historically grounded) practical social realities. Without abstract ideals politics is morally blind, but without practical consideration and historical orientation, it is in applicable and useless. Attempt to establish a Jeffersonian Democracy overnight in a place like Saudi Arabia much less Afghanistan and see how far it gets you. On the other hand, you can take small practical steps toward gradually liberalizing such countries over time. The Conservative is a believer in freedom, but freedom is a thing into which societies must continually grow and develop.

So this brings us to your question of exactly what should and should not be permitted within the so called ”liberal” societies of the West. The answer is that we must determine on a case by case basis what we can realistically sustain as individual societies in this stage of our growth and development. We must carefully examine each issue with a close eye on the law of unintended consequences. Some professed Libertarians for example, like to talk about the legalization of drugs; but what would absolute drug legalization mean? It would consist of the right to freely dispense and use for recreational purposes, every single pharmaceutical and street drug in existence. We have absolutely no idea what an America like that would even look like.

We presently have a nationally crippling epidemic that revolves around a single strictly controlled substance (Fentanyl). One could not even begin to predict the vast sea of long term social consequences that would be created by the kind of policy referred to here. It would not even be guaranteed to eliminate the black market sale of these drugs. For example, there is still a multi-billion dollar international black market in tobacco, a legal drug. Now I made reference specifically to America here for a reason. Because in the end, every individual society must assess these issues for itself, on the basis of its own unique characteristics and national experience. Prostitution may be handled in one way by one legislature but differently by another (including within the same nation, as it is in the U.S.). One of the unintended consequences we must always consider is how the legalization of something complicates the prosecution of the illegal (or unregulated) versions of that thing.

The issue of surrogate motherhood could potentially yield some unique unintended consequences which cause it to stand apart. I do not have a problem with it in principle, but I think it must retain a certain character. If surrogate motherhood becomes a market exactly like any other market, then childbearing becomes the production of a commodity, and human beings can become articles for sale. But a child is not the “possession” of their parent, and therefore an unfettered market model is wrong for this kind of issue. There is a vast difference between parental discretion, and property rights. This topic is somewhat different from the others we have discussed so far. Those issues had to do only with how human beings dispose of their own person and property. This issue has to do with one party’s (or more than one party's) power over another (the future baby). For this reason it must be regulated even in the freest context.

In conclusion, the approach that I take on most of these question is to outline how we need to think about them rather than to try to answer them directly. Some of them are tremendously complex questions that do not necessarily have any uniform answer that is fit for every single society. We should act in a way that tends toward the maximization of freedom within the constraints of the present development of each society.