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[writingamileperhour]

You’re strapped to a table. Surrounded by cultists. They’ve summoned their demonic deity and are preparing to sacrifice you. You’ve decided to go all-in on the only way out you have left. Make the demon an offer the cultists can’t match.

[writingamileperhour]

Ukraine, 26th Feb, 2022

A friend of mine told me yesterday that he didn’t realise how much Ukraine meant to him until now. I posted yesterday about the time we spent there, and we’re all getting super pre-occupied about the invasion. As I said in that post, I can’t get our waitress out of my head. I can sort of remember what she looked like now. She had an undercut. I think maybe her hair might have been blue? But - I will never know if she lives through this, and it’s driving me very slightly mad.

So naturally, my husband spent all day yesterday obsessively researching everything he could about it with the help of his journalist friends, as a way to help me process it.

This post is me putting it all in order, as a way to try and process my own emotional response as much as anything else (I freely admit there is an element of self-indulgence here). Please don’t take me as the spokesperson for Ukraine right now, nor as a solid reliable news source. But, I haven’t seen this stuff except in bits and pieces on Tumblr, so here we go.

(This is also not about why the invasion has happened. This post is solely about what has happened, and how the invasion is going.)

So, Putin and the rest of the world believed that this invasion would take 1-4 days. The plan was to push through fast, take Kyiv, and force Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the Ukrainian President, to surrender. Given Russia’s military might, it really looked likely.

Here is the conclusion of all that’s happened so far:

Ukraine is absolutely nailing this??? Actually???

They managed to defend every single city overnight, including Kyiv. They started rolling out and using these WW2-style anti-tank thingies that look a bit like angry gabbions, look, here’s a picture of one being delivered:

A bunch of spare iron girders turned into a hefty octopus of Russian misery, basically.

But it’s not just tanks they’re taking down, oh no. Ukraine successfully shot down a transport plane 20km from Kyiv. That is, I shit you not, the single biggest hit to the Russian military since the Second Chechen War. Volunteers from Lithuania, Poland, Latvia, Estonia, Azerbaijan and Israel are all entering Ukraine to help fight and bolster the anti-Russian forces, which is probably illustrative of how Eurovision voting is going to run for the next decade. Most countries have banned Russian planes from their air space. To help stop the Russian advance, Ukraine has made and installed new road signs, like this one:

I can only say a handful of sentences in Ukrainian, Tumblrs, but as I understand it, from top to bottom, it says:

“Fuck off”

“Fuck off again”

“Fuck off Russia”

Meanwhile, it turns out the Russian military might we feared is… possibly not quite as advertised?

They’re underfunded and badly trained. Ukraine captured 200 soldiers in one go, and most of them were confused 19 year olds with no training. The equipment is shite. The tanks keep running out of fuel. Russian soldiers keep abandoning their tanks and handing them over to the Ukrainian army. Putin’s plan was to take Kyiv fast and move on, and he didn’t have a plan B - hence these kids, playing soldier. Here is an image of a Russian tank receiving roadside assistance from Russia’s finest, an old Lada.  

No one expected Zelenskyy to survive the night; but he did. America offered him asylum in the White House.

But he said no. 

Zelenskyy remains in Kyiv, with his people.

And Putin, in his desperation to be adored, has turned Zelenskyy into a global icon and hero.

Here is something you may not know about Volodymyr Zelenskyy - he used to be a standup comedian. Was he any good? No idea - but what he IS good at is producing funny short videos he can put on Twitter and that, which are absolutely fantastic for Ukrainian morale. And morale is vital in an invasion like this, and Ukraine are smashing it out of the park there.

They are utilising the internet to its fullest extent. In addition to Zelenskyy’s videos, they’ve made sure that the final words of the Ukrainian defenders of Snake Island are known and now echoed around the world: “Russian warship, go fuck yourselves.” A video has gone viral of Ukrainians mocking a group of Russian soldiers whose tank had broken down and who didn’t know the way to Kyiv anyway, presumably because of all the new road signs. They have created a website that lists every single Russian death they can identify, partly so Russian mothers can have closure (thus also painting themselves as the defenders of decency and humanity), and partly for the enormous morale boost of the world knowing, categorically, that they’ve already killed 3700 Russian soldiers (over 100 of which were from that transport plane.)  Not one word has leaked of Ukrainian casualties. I’m sure they’re devastating, but for morale purposes, they’re being kept quiet until the dust settles. Ukrainians have started setting up fake Tindr profiles to catfish Russian soldiers for intel, and they’re all 19 and lost, so it’s working. Plus, they’re using Grindr to actually track where the soldiers are, because it turns out Putin was not entirely correct about there being no gays in Russia.

So, Russia wants to cut their internet access. Can the Ukrainian Minister for Digital Transformation, Mykhailo Fedorov, shame a billionaire into providing aid?

This is crucial, remember. Atrocities happen best in the dark, and the world is watching - because of the internet. Morale is vital to maintain. Can they convince Elon Musk to help?

Yep.

Ukraine now has the fastest internet service in the world. The fastest, most stable internet service in human history, in fact. Russia cannot now disable it. The world watches.

Which is just as well, because then Anonymous decided to get involved, and have leaked the website database of the Russian Ministry of Defence. Lol. Also this happens:

And then the Russian propaganda channels started broadcasting the truth of what is happening in Ukraine. Double lol.

So what is the political response?

Well, in addition to closing airspace to Russian planes, loads of countries are sending weapons to Ukraine. Those that can’t are offering asylum. They’re also offering asylum to any Russian soldiers who surrender or defect, which is startlingly good tactics, and there are rumours of around 5000 Russian soldiers who have done just that. Germany, of course, has long had a block on lethal weapons transfer; but Germany recognise this shit for what it is. They’ve lifted the block, thus allowing the Netherlands to send weapons. Efforts are now underway to fast-track Ukraine into the EU. I presume they will consider the lack of pint glasses with crowns on to be a worthwhile price to pay.

So what about Russia’s supporters?

Belarusian leader Alexander Lukashenka helped Russia with this invasion. Now, this has happened:

Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya was actually elected president, but some wild nonsense kept her out of power. She’s now running a government in exile. I have literally no idea what this means or will mean! But my god. She has a spine of steel, and this is not a good time to be happening for Putin. 

And it’s really, really not, because then intel on a meeting of Putin and assembled Oligarchs LEAKS (hello Anonymous, probably). The highlights:

This war is costing Russia $15bn a day

He expected it to take ONE TO FOUR DAYS TO WIN

It’s been two days and he is losing very badly, currently

They will run out of rockets by day 4, maybe sooner

After that they will be down to rifles and ammo

It will take 3-4 months to make more significant weapons, except they need raw materials, and the countries that can provide them… have cut supply lines

If the war lasts 10 days, Russia will have completely run out of money and weapons

It’s only day 2, and Russian soldiers are knocking the doors of random Ukrainian homes begging for food and water because they’ve already run out

So, out of desperation, Putin turns to his greatest, closest and most trusted ally for help: Kazakhstan. 

And Kazakhstan

SAYS NO

And then Ukraine shoots down a second Russian plane.

Anyway, I’m going to finish off with a final point. Morale is vital in this situation, so here is the message from the Ukrainian government at the minute, to everyone watching around the world:

Be VERY SUSPICIOUS of any negative news about Ukraine. Russia uses misinformation and propaganda. They will want to damage Ukrainian morale.

Use your social media to spread news of Ukrainian victories. 

Don’t give oxygen to negative stories. Especially since they might not be true.

That’s genuinely something we can do to help. Every victory of Ukraine, blast it far and wide. So on that note, I’ll leave you with this:

Congrats to Natalia Antonova’s cousin’s son.

[writingamileperhour]

Welp...

[writingamileperhour]

The concepts of NSFW is being cleared of the Internet under the false pretense of children's safety when it's really about the people in power sanitising for advertisers and pushing evangelical narratives AND that not enough is done to keep legitimately harmful content off of spaces that minors have access to are ideas that can coexist

[writingamileperhour]

My complete masterlist of works. Reblogs and commentary more than welcome!

Chris Hemsworth Masterlist

Chris Evans Masterlist

Henry Cavill Masterlist

Tom Hardy Masterlist

Andy Black Masterlist

Stephen James Masterlist

Ronnie Radke Masterlist

Jared Leto Masterlist

Shannon Leto Masterlist

Geralt of Rivia Masterlist

Thor Odinson Masterlist

Tyler Rake Masterlist

Vikings Masterlist

Sons of Anarchy/Mayans MC Masterlist

Keep reading

[writingamileperhour]

blossoms on my skin, marks on my heart

In which Jaskier doesn’t wait until Geralt frees him from prison to speak his mind. A conversation set a few weeks after they have started travelling together.

This is a birthday present for the absolutely wonderful and sweet @natilieal​ ! Natalie, your friendships has been one of the best things this fandom has brought me, and I cherish it every day. Happy birthday, I love you 🧡✨ Also I had another idea that would have been h/nc, but I couldn’t hurt you that much on your birthday 😂😅

wc: 1.2k cw: none tags: h/c, canon divergence

Prompt from this list

He feels guilty. He knows that this isn’t fair, that Geralt didn’t mean it. That it was nothing more than another comment in jest, nothing more than playful annoyance.

He doesn’t, though. Know for certain. How much of Geralt’s glare is part of the joke. How much of his dismissive grunt is real. For weeks, the uncertainty has been gnawing at him, a looming threat that is overshadowing every interaction.

And so today, Jaskier snaps.

“What happened to you, huh? What happened to you to make you this way? Tell me, Geralt, what the fuck did I do for you to treat me this way?”

He shouldn’t be raising his voice, shouldn’t be yelling.

The look the Witcher gives him breaks Jaskier’s heart into a thousand pieces and suddenly their room feels very, very small. Every inch of his being wants to flee, wants to escape the tension in the air. But not this time. For once, he is going to force Geralt to actually talk to him.

“Do I mean anything to you? Anything at all? Are we even friends? Because day after day you act annoyed by everything I do, even though I try my hardest to help you. Find supplies. Earn money. Help you with your armour. But it’s never enough. I’m never enough.”

“Stop.” It’s quiet but firm, and he can see the fire starting to burn behind Geralt‘s eyes.

Good. If this is what it takes to get him to open up, so be it. Time to poke the beast once more.

Keep reading

[writingamileperhour]

theres 3 types of mlm shippers in fandoms

the "im female, but ships with female characters forces me to relate to the characters and i really just want a break from the real world and enjoy some fictional stuff" one

the "i get crippling gender envy from one of these characters and im deeply in love with the other/s but im also in love with the one who gives me the gender envy, but i dont wanna engage with reader insert bc reader insert is more than often a female insert, and i wanna be this character and be WITH this character but only from the pov of mlm" one

the mlm's who ship mlm's

[writingamileperhour]

Treeful Treehouse Sustainable Resort

Nago Okinawa Japan

© treeful treehouse

[writingamileperhour]

Forgotten Foes - Garden Guardians

Explore the hidden Verdant Sanctuary and face the garden guardians, ancient constructs created to protect this prescious piece of land.

Now available on my patreon and shop!

[writingamileperhour]

Why Moxie! Rocks

Some friends and I watched Moxie! this evening and I had some thoughts to share. It has been getting rather middling reviews from critics, which range from “it could be better” to “the characters are too woke/ not woke enough” to literally "I’d rather see Poehler throw caution to the wind and star in “Baby Mama 2.” So, here are some of my collected thoughts on the film in response to those critics:

1a. Many of the critics discuss how the dialogue is overdone/ painful, etc. and that the insights the characters arrive at are trite  without acknowledging that it is a teenage coming of age film meant for a teenage audience. I think this is an unfair critique because for the audience and the subjects of the film, saying something like “ All of the books we read were written for old rich white dudes, what’s THAT about” DOES seem revolutionary when you’re a 16 year old girl in your junior year. Plus, these critics hold the characters (and by extension the film’s audience) to a maturity level that exceeds them. Yes, the characters COULD handle many of these situations better but they’re TEENAGE GIRLS. 

1b. I think Moxie! succeeds in allowing for the kind of clumsiness/messiness of discovering how to be MAD when society has told you that girls should not be or act MAD. Many critics questioned why Vivian–who is anonymous voted “most obedient” by her (male) peers– is the central figure of the film. I think Vivian is the center because she is the character who is learning how to not accept what she has long held to be normal behavior and to get MAD about it. Vivian’s anger is powerful in its ability to make her change; she speaks out and to people she never would have otherwise would. However, Vivian’s anger is also messy in a way that matches being a high school girl. She can be selfish and not consider how she is able to do/say things that her friends cannot; she lashes out at her boyfriend and her mom in toxic ways. Vivian’s anger is palpable in that as a protagonist, it is both good AND bad.

 2. Many critics are discussing how the film does not center the intersectional identities of the side characters. I do understand these critiques and think they are valid, but I think the film is doing something more revolutionary: it accepts that these intersectional qualities– of race, gender presentation, sexuality, disability– do not usurp the characters’ story arcs/actions. It feels MORE interesting (to me at least) that characters like Meg can point out how people do not respect her accommodations but that her friends do not center their conversations around her wheelchair use, that CJ can rightfully complain about people not using her preferred pronouns but that her story is mostly about auditioning for Audrey because she’s talented, and that no big fan fare is made when Lucy and Amaya kiss. The film accepts that these are facets of the characters without then centering the film on those struggles. (MORE importantly, the film actually hired disabled, trans, and BIPOC teenage actresses to play these roles.) 

3. The depiction of Seth is such a healthy depiction of teenage masculinity. Seth is a typical skaterboy, but he is so interesting because he is…. emotional and sentimental. Seth often talks, at length, about HIS FEELINGS and Vivian respects this; in turn, Seth listens to her and their relationship is built on honest communication and mutual respect. Seth is also compelling because he asks Vivian’s consent to kiss her. HOWEVER, more compellingly, Seth stops Vivian when she goes to initiate sex without asking him. Seth tells her that he is uncomfortable and not ready and that she must also respect his. I love that this film allows its male love interest to be the one to be on the “I’m not ready! Stop! Respect my boundaries!” side of the equation. It was SO GOOD.

4. I think that anyone who has survived high school knows that the kinds of behavior which Moxie! targets are rampant and real.Critics suggesting otherwise are… delusional. Moxie! has the same cringe/awkwardness factor as a show like 8th Grade explicitly because it is almost painfully too real. 

[writingamileperhour]

The Key to the Future

Description: The reader has a hard day, but Kaz is there to help

Warnings: Mentions of Kaz's past, mentions of bad mental health/anxiety/depression

Words: 885

As always if you like my writing feel free to give me a request! My inbox is always open, I might just take a bit to post it, depending on my schedule!

Kaz loved her. Loved Y/n with more love than he thought he was capable of. He loved her smiles, her laughs, the face she made when she was concentrating, her brilliant mind working wonders in order to solve whatever problem was on his mind. He never even had to explain what the issue was. She just knew. He loved her.

But he knew there were times when she didn’t love herself. And he never knew what to do those days, the times here sobs sounded through the thin slat walls, their neighboring rooms feeling like they were oceans apart. He’d been in the same situation she was in far too many times, and just because his eyes ran dry where hers streamed tears didn’t mean the emotions differed. And yet, even with the experience of years of thinking he was a monster, countless nights spent coming to terms with it, he didn’t know how to help her. Because Y/n wasn’t a monster. And he feared that any advice he tried to give her would only make her incorrectly believe she was one.

Still, when the time rang to the 12th bell and Y/n still hadn’t emerged from her room, Kaz let his head fall onto his desk. He was the most feared person in the Barrel, the one who caused people to run from a mere glance their way, but he couldn’t do a damn thing when the girl he loved was in pain. He hid, scared he would make it worse, instead of helping. A part of him wondered if this was how Nina felt each time someone was laid on a table in front of her, and a foreign pang of sympathy rang through him. A least, it did until the first cry sounded through the wall, and he flinched away from the sound. The Bastard of the Barrel flinched. He’d avoided doing that for years. And here he was, flinching like he was the one who was crying.

Taking a deep breath, he got out of his chair, and limped slightly over to the wall, where he rested his cheek against it. Kaz Brekker would not run from this. He raised his hand, slowly, and wanted to look away when he saw the way it trembled. But he forced himself to keep staring as he carefully knocked twice on the cool wall. He waited in silence for a long moment, praying to every saint he didn’t believe in that Y/n would understand. Would know he was here for her, even if it was through a stone wall.

He let a brief smile slip past his lips when he heard a return of 2 knocks resonate through the walls. But as a sniffle followed it, his heart broke once again, and in that split second, he made a decision. Grabbing his cane, he walked out the door, and knocked once again. Only this time it was on her door.

Kaz Brekker would not run. Instead, he would help. Not something he was very familiar with, but after all of the help Y/n had given him, it was time he returned it. When the door cracked open, the sight of her reddened eyes, the tears falling down her cheeks. He was filled with the sudden urge to wipe them, and for once he followed through, gloved hands lightly cupping her cheek as the door closed.

“Y/n… I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened, and as he removed his hand from her cheek, he knew why. He wasn’t one for apologies. Nor was he one for comforting touches. But his hands were gloved, and the way her face had lifted when he’d reached out had pushed back any memories of cold flesh and salty waters.

When he continued speaking, it was after taking a deep breath, and he was acutely aware of the gravel in his voice. “I’m not good at talking about these things. My mind works more in the ways of lockpicking than comforting. Where there’s just that one twist, and everything is open. But I know, I’ve felt what you’re feeling. And there’s no pins to tension, no shims to grab. There’s no key. But I want to help you. Because sitting there and hearing you in pain; it hurts worse than any knife. And I know the guilt, the ways of counting the mistakes you’ve made, the lives you’re responsible for losing. But I know you even better. And you’re a light in all that darkness. Not just mine, but everyone’s. I’ll do anything to shelter you from the horrors in your mind. Just… tell me what to do.”

There was another sob, and for a second Kaz was worried he’d made things worse.

But then Y/n met his eyes. “Can-” She swallowed back what was likely unshed tears. “Can I-” Now she extended her arms slightly to the side, and Kaz understood. Kaz understood, and he didn’t mind. Today was for her. He could put his past behind, if it meant helping her. Because she was his future. He nodded.

As her arms wrapped around his waist, as the waters threatened to pull him under once again, he kept that thought in mind. And he clung to it. He clung to her.

He loved her.

[writingamileperhour]

God there's a Johns Hopkins study out now that says lockdowns in the US and Europe were largely ineffective at preventing covid deaths and only reduced them by around 3% while causing a huge economic burden and my first reaction was okay you're telling me the half assed lockdowns where workers still had to go to work every day and if you were lucky you maybe worked somewhere with a drive thru or outdoor seating but still came into close contact with your coworkers all the time didn't do shit in comparison to the actual lockdowns in countries that provided the means to actually shelter in place without leaving your home for 2-4 weeks and kept deaths to a minimum and got to more or less go back to normal after that until it started spreading again from Americans and Europeans? Big shock.

Then I looked at the report and the authors are all economics professors.

[writingamileperhour]

URGENT: 🚨🚨EARN IT ACT IS BACK IN THE SENATE 🚨🚨 tumblr's nsfw ban hitting the entire internet this spring 2022

February 1, 2022

I’m so so sorry for the long post but please please please pay attention and spread this

WHAT IS THE EARN IT ACT?

The EARN IT Act has been roundly condemned by nearly every major LGBTQ+ advocacy and human rights organization in the country. This is a bill that will make children less safe, undermine online safety and security, and trample free expression, because it carves out another exception to Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (CDA 230), which the ACLU describes as “foundational to modern online communications.” This has been the law that has let the internet grow into what it is today, we’ve had this law since the 90s. (For context, Trump wanted to get rid of this law because he knew it would lead to mass govt surveillance and censorship of minorities online.)

The EARN IT Act will lead to online censorship. Platforms will be incentivized to scan their users’ communications and censor all sex-related content, including sex education, literally anything lgbt, transgender or non-binary education and support systems, and sex worker communication according to the ACLU. All this in the name of “protecting kids” and “fighting CSEM”, both of which the bill does nothing of the sort. In fact it makes fighting CSEM even harder.

If this bill passes, we're going to see most, if not all, adult content and accounts removed from mainstream platforms, for fear of the liability that could come with ever accidentally hosting CSAM, as well as the erasure of end-to-end encryption on messaging platforms.

This is really not a drill. Anyone who makes or consume anything “adult” online has to be prepared to fight Sen. Blumenthal's EARN IT Act, brought back from the grave by a bipartisan consensus to destroy Section 230.

EARN IT will open the way for politicians to define the category of “pornography" as they — or the lobbies that fund them — please, (Right now, right wing organizers are catgorizing books about racism as ‘porn’ to ban them from schools) which is a cherished goal of organizations that seek to reintroduce obscenity prosecutions for content now protected by Free Speech jurisprudence. This will 1000000% be used to eradicate anything LGBT online.

What this bill says it does on the surface is make platforms liable for their users’ activity if that activity involves sex and minors. However, because of 230, platforms are not liable at all about their users' activity. This has allowed platforms to grow and thrive and many niches online to as well. The bill also creates an unelected commission to create “best practices” to combat online child sexual exploitation. While these recommendations are nominally voluntary (so Americans have no decision on who gets to be on it), platforms that refuse to comply will be liable for criminal prosecutions and lawsuits should the government decide any of their users is engaging in online child sexual exploitation.

This is already a nightmare enough. But the bill also DESTROYS ENCRYPTION, you know, the thing protecting literally anyone or any govt entity from going into your private messages and emails and anything on your devices and spying on you.

This bill is going to finish what FOSTA/SESTA started. And that should terrify you.

Senator Blumenthal (Same guy who said ‘Facebook should ban finsta’) pushed this bill all of 2020, literally every activist (There were more than half a million signatures on this site opposing this act!) pushed hard to stop this bill. Now he brings it back, doesn’t show the text of the bill until hours later, and it’s WORSE. Instead of fixing literally anything in the bill that might actually protect kids online, Bluemnthal is hoping to fast track this and shove it through, hoping to get little media attention other than propaganda of "protecting kids" to support this shitty legislation that will harm kids.

The entire EARN IT act is based on *multiple* misunderstandings of the law and reality. It's a really really really bad policy that will do serious harm. But because Senator Blumenthal wants headlines, he'll pretend that it "helps protect the children." It won't. It'll do real damage. It will make CSEM much much worse.

One of the many reasons this bill is so dangerous: It totally misunderstands how Section 230 works, and in doing so (as with FOSTA) it is likely to make the very real problem of CSAM worse, not better. Section 230 gives companies the flexibility to try different approaches to dealing with various content moderation challenges. It allows for greater and greater experimentation and adjustments as they learn what works -- without fear of liability for any "failure." Removing Section 230 protections does the opposite. It says if you do anything, you may face crippling legal liability. This actually makes companies less willing to do anything that involves trying to seek out, take down, and report CSAM because of the greatly increased liability that comes with admitting that there is CSAM on your platform to search for and deal with. This liability would allow anyone for any reason to sue any platform they want, suing smaller ones out of existence. Look at what is happening right now with book bans across the nation with far right groups. This is going to happen to the internet if this bill passes.

(Remember, the state department released a report in December 2021 recommending that the government crack down on "obscenity" as hard the Reagan Administration did. If this bill passes, it could easily go way beyond shit red states are currently trying. It is a goldmine for the fascist right that is currently in the middle of banning every book that talks about race and sexuality across the US.)

NCOSE, the far right anti-LGBT hate group behind the global anti-sex legislations, is pushing the idea that any form of sexual expression, including talking about HEALTH, leads to sex trafficking. Their goal is to eliminate all sex, anything gay, and everything that goes against their idea of ‘God’ from the internet and hyper disney-fy and sanitize it. This is a highly coordinated attack on multiple fronts.

The reason these bills keep showing up is because there is this false lie spread by organizations like NCOSE that platforms do nothing about CSEM online. However, platforms are already liable for child sexual exploitation under federal law. Tech companies sent more than 45 million+ instances of CSAM to the DOJ in 2019 alone, most of which they declined to investigate. This shows that platforms are actually doing everything in their power already to stop CSEM by following already existing laws. The Earn It Act includes zero resources for proven investigation or prevention programs. If Senator Bluementhal actually cared about protecting youth, why wouldn’t he include anything to actually protect them in his shitty horrible bill?

The Center for Democracy & Technology (CDT) along with a coalition of 26 civil society organizations urged the United States Senate to reject the EARN IT Act. Groups on the left and right, including the ACLU, Fight for the Future, EFF, and Hacking // Hustling oppose it. Because it threatens free expression online and will threaten marginalized people’s safety while being totally unnecessary and failing to fix the problem it claims to address. The EARN IT Act empowers states to give law enforcement access to users’ private conversations and force companies to create encryption backdoors for law enforcement. This is totally unnecessary. Platforms are already handing over CSAM to the federal government. It’s actually likely to make prosecuting child molesters more difficult since evidence collected this way likely violates the Fourth Amendment and would be inadmissible in court.

I don't know why so many Senators are eager to cosponsor the "make child pornography worse" bill, but here we are.

WHAT YOU CAN DO:

EARN IT Act was introduced yesterday! And it’s already scheduled to get marked up, which is the first step post-introduction. Most bills never go to markup, so this means they are putting pressure to move this through. IF YOU LIVE IN THESE STATES (IL, VT, CA, RI, MN, DE, CT, HI, NJ, and GA), CONTACT YOUR SENATOR AND HOUSE MEMBERS NOW. THIS IS URGENT. This is who gets first crack, and folks in all have Senators who are on the Judiciary committee.

I'm guessing this month or March is when the bill would be passed if there is no opposition 😭 The bill was re-introduced yesterday, already set for markup this Thursday. This feels like an attempt to fast track it this month. Additionally the current makeup of Congress favors those who want it passed. Back in 2020 it was mostly Senate republicans and democrats who are basically republicans (just like now, check the sponsors) pushing it with Ron Wyden using the filibuster to stop their efforts. The house dems didn't want to give Trump a win and needed to appear as pro-privacy/free speech for the 2020 election. Now the dems have the presidency, both chambers of Congress and if you've noticed have spent a few years repeatedly demanding social media censorship and desperately want to give Biden victories. biden isn't like obama who opposed sopa/pipa to appeal to younger voters. This is similar to how FOSTA passed with the group who made it happen last time back again. Far as I'm aware Wyden hasn't spoken about new earn it yet but even if he does oppose it, it's very possible there will be enough Senate democrats to join the republicans in passing it beating a filibuster. Then pelosi's band of house idiots pass it and we have to choose between breaking the law because they can't stop us from using encryption or being obedient sheep to a group who consider themselves above laws.

It already has a fifth of the Senate cosponsoring it. There is a very very very real chance this bill becomes law. This is an uphill battle that's going to happen fast and quick. PLEASE, FIGHT NOW.

202-224-3121 connects you to the congressional hotline.

This website takes you to your Senator / House members contact info. EMAIL, MESSAGE, SEND LETTERS, CALL CALL CALL CALL CALL. Calling is the BEST way to get a message through. Get your family and friends to send calls too. This is literally the end of free speech online.

More sources to read about this bill:

https://cathyreisenwitz.substack.com/p/the-earn-it-act-is-anti-evidence

Fight for the Future’s Statement

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=678EW8v09z8&t=1s

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20220131/22423648395/senates-new-earn-it-bill-will-make-child-exploitation-problem-worse-not-better-still-attacks-encryption.shtml

EARN IT Act treats Myths as Facts.

https://surviveearnit.com/what-is-the-earn-it-act/ From 2020, but little has changed about the bill.

https://www.protocol.com/bulletins/earn-it-act-back

Center for Democracy and Technology’s Statement

DISCORD LINK IF YOU WANT TO HELP FIGHT IT

TLDR: The EARN IT Act will lead to online censorship of any and all adult & lgbt content across the entire internet, open the floodgates to mass surveillance the likes which we haven't seen before, lead to much more CSEM being distributed online, and destroy encryption. Call 202-224-3121 to connect to your house and senate representative and tell them to VOTE NO on this bill that does not protect anyone and harms everyone.

[writingamileperhour]

The Care and Feeding of Bards

Yen narrows her eyes at Geralt as she's shoving him out the door. “Aren’t you going to take some supplies for your precious bard?”

He blinks. “Why would I do that?”

She looks at him as if he’s stupid. “So you have food for the road.”

Geralt scoffs. “It’s one human, Yen. How often do I need to feed him?” He rolls his eyes. “Every day?”

Yen says, “Uhh.”

-

“It’s only a little further to the next village,” Geralt says, full of confidence. “If we push on through the night, we can be there by morning.”

Jaskier’s lip wobbles. His everything wobbles. “I’m trying here, I am,” he says, big eyes wide and pathetic. “But I really need to sleep.”

Geralt squints at him. “What, again? We just slept two nights ago.”

Jaskier looks, horrifyingly, like he might actually cry.

“Fine, fine,” Geralt says quickly, stopping and laying out a bedroll. “Just don’t get all weepy on me.”

-

The autumn is fading fast, and the nights are getting longer. Jaskier is bouncing up and down on a log in front of the fire, his seemingly endless energy bubbling through the skin.

The log is jittering and it’s making it difficult for Geralt to sharpen his swords. “Still sit,” he growls, putting a heavy hand on Jaskier’s leg. “You’re jostling me.”

“Sorry,” Jaskier says, teeth chattering together, “but it’s so cold.”

Huh. Geralt tilts his head to one side. It’s not as if it’s snowing, or there’s a blizzard out. There’s only a thin layer of ice on the river. But now that he looks, he sees that Jaskier’s skin is pale and his lips are tinting blue. Ahh.

He digs in a saddle bag and finds his winter cloak, the one he only uses on the road to Kaer Morhen. “Here,” he says, handing it over.

“Thank the gods,” Jaskier says quickly, wrapping himself in the cloak and sighing happily.

-

“Can’t you just,” Geralt waves a hand vaguely, “not be ill?”

Jaskier looks up at him from his mug of tea, eyes watery, forehead clammy, sniveling pathetically.

He says, slowly, like it’s taking the last of his patience, “That’s not how it works, Geralt.”

How tedious. Humans really are sickly little things.

-

Geralt had been unsure about bringing Jaskier to Kaer Morhen at first. But seeing his bard here, surrounded by his fellow Wolf witchers, brings a smile to his face and a warmth to his chest.

They’ve said their greetings and they’re settling in for a first evening’s cheerful drinking when Lambert lunges across the table at Jaskier.

“Hey!” Lambert knocks the drink out of Jaskier’s hand. “You can’t drink that!”

Geralt frowns at Lambert while Jaskier cowers. There’s no need to be rude.

“White Gull is deadly to humans,” Lambert explains. “And all our ales are laced with it.”

Oh. Well. Jaskier better not drink anything from the kitchen then.

“I can’t believe I’m the sensible one here,” Lambert grumbles.

-

Clearly, something had to be done. Geralt had consulted with his brothers and Vesemir, who proved surprisingly well-informed in the ways of humans.

The result is this: A big basket which Geralt delivers to Jaskier’s room. In the basket is the thickest, warmest blanket he could find, as well as some little woolen mitts he’d knitted. They are a little misshapen in places, because he still hadn’t quite got the hang of short rows, but they left the fingers uncovered so Jaskier could play his lute.

There's also a generous bag of dried fruits and meats, and some tea bags he’d made from the loose tea in the kitchen so Jaskier could make himself a mug without having to brave the cold. He’d even found some untainted beer at the very back of the storehouse and popped that in as well.

Finally, there is a little card on top on which Geralt had written, in his very best attempt at calligraphy, “For Our Human Friend :)” Eskel had drawn the smiley face next to it.

Jaskier looks at the basket. He looks at Geralt. His face does the scrunchy, wobbly thing which warns of tears incoming.

“Oh, no no no -” Geralt starts, because he’d meant this to be nice, he can’t cope with Jaskier crying, but then Jaskier flings himself at him and wraps him up in a hug.

Jaskier snivels into his shoulder and says, wetly, “Thanks, Geralt.”

Confused, Geralt pats his back. So crying is not always a bad thing? He’ll have to make a note of that in his book, which he has tentatively titled The Care and Feeding of Bards.

[writingamileperhour]

Can Ragnar please fuck me? Thanks.

oh boy do I have something for you, anon. Also, come and get him @mrsragnarlodbrok Ragnar x fem!Reader

HIS HAND IS rough when his fingers curl around your bicep and his grip strong —punishing in his fit of blind rage. Ragnar’s breath is hot against the back of your neck, but unlike you, he appears calm. The madness is only alight in the stormy depths of his eyes. You turn to face him and see the red streaks across his cheek that align perfectly with your fingers. “This is not what I agreed to!” You hiss, face twisted at the very thought of the Saxon King’s terms —terms to which your husband accepted without contemplation, without consulting those closes to him, you included. Collateral is what Ecbert of Wessex called it —an exchange of high-ranking and valued individuals to remain in good faith.

Ragnar looks down his nose at you, tilting his head, and leans down, his voice a venomous whisper at your ear. “Necessity demands our plans change,” he reminds you. His dream —your dream— of a peaceful life with the fertile English soil meant pacifying the Saxons one way or another. If that meant allying his people with one king to help bring the downfall of another, then so be it. There are far worse things that could have come out of the meeting than sending his beloved to stay with Christians.

He steps back, hand falling away from your arm, daring you to speak against his decision again with only a look. But anger still festers in the pit of your stomach. Decisions such as this —affecting your people, your future— should not be made in haste. You first came to England together, and Ragnar had made promises now broken. You lift your chin, rage giving way to a sickly-sweet smile. “Do not forget, Ragnar,” you begin, “I am your wife. The mother of your children.”

The words strike something deep within him —the insinuation that he could ever forget you are the woman he swore himself to, the woman who gifted him two strong sons and a gentle daughter. Ragnar's nose twitches as he reaches for you with a closed fist. The backs of his knuckles brush over your cheek. He blinks, and it is though his eyes are brighter than ever, laced with determination and madness. You exhale, a shaky breath, refusing to back down until he says something, anything. His hand follows a braid in your hair, down your neck —fingers splaying out over the flesh. “How could I?” He taunts, thumb pressing against your jaw.

Neither of you is willing to back down, to set this aside and carry on. It is Ragnar who breaks first, knowing he is not prepared to feel your absence in the coming weeks. His kiss is aggressive and impatient. He moves his lips against yours like a man unrestrained, finally able to consume what —no, who— he’s been craving since you first stormed off into the trees from the meeting. He steps closer, forcing you back until you bump against the trunk of a great ash tree.

You match his greedy touch without hesitation, running your hands up his torso, over the metal rings sewn into his dark raven armor, and around his neck, arching your back to fit the curve of his chest. He hooks his hand around the back of your knee and hikes it over his hip, pressing his pelvis to yours. You feel the ridge of his half-hard cock pressed against your hip. Seeing you like this made his blood boil in more ways than one. And his kiss, controlling and bruising, and the light pressure on your neck —heat pools low in your belly.

With the heat of his mouth and the broad expanse of his form, he envelops you, devours you. Ragnar releases you, his hands darting to the ties of his britches. You mimic his movements, ridding yourself of your swordbelt and the painted shield on your back —throwing both to the forest floor. But you are not quick enough to satiate his temper and impatience. Ragnar shoves your hands out of the way, pulling at the ties of your pants. He towers over you, leering when he sees the hunger in your eyes and feels the heat flushing your skin —hears the shallow breaths passing your parted lips when he presses you tightly between the tree and his body.

His hands stray from your waist to the back of your thighs, lifting you —and only a moment later, his cock is nudging at your slick cunt before he presses himself into you with a fluid snap of his hips. It pulls a ragged groan from his lips as he feels your warmth engulf him. With your ankles linked at the base of his spine, the heels of your soft leather boots pressing against his back, you carve your fingernails into the ropes of muscle rippling across his shoulder blades through the wool of his tunic.

Ragnar bites down hard where your neck and shoulder join, tearing a yelp from your hoarse throat and leaving a lasting mark to remember this moment. Your eyes flash open, meeting his —wild, dangerous, carnal. It is all you can do to hold fast to him, to keep from falling as he thrusts into you over and over, trying to meet his hips with your own. You arch into him, hands moving from his shoulders to his neck. Ragnar bares his teeth when you pull back on his warrior’s braid, hard enough to tilt his head back. His next thrust is harsh —retaliation.

Breathless, you seek out his lips, and he obliges with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss —panting and moaning into each other’s mouth. He knows you are right on the precipice, and he leans in closer, giving you that nudge and his permission in a raspy whisper against your ear. You clench around his twitching cock.

A strangled groan passes through his gaping mouth as he presses through the tightness —striking the place that makes your limbs go weak. “Ragnar,” you plead, the whisper of his name a prayer that saps away whatever ire he’d felt before this moment. He shifts, the angle changes and each thrust sends a spark of friction where you are joined. Ragnar watches as your head tilts back, eyes droop shut, and ecstasy overtakes you, but he is not done yet —has not had his fill.

He slams into you and clamps his hands around your waist so he can yank you back onto his cock. His thrusts are uneven, uncaged, unhinged. Ragnar pants and grunts and groans against your neck, using your body to chase his own end. All you can do is hold tight and endure the punishment until his hips lose their rhythm. He presses his face against your neck, cock twitching as he spills himself deep in your warmth, listening to the sound of your thundering heartbeat.

Ragnar keeps you pinned against the tree with his hips, his hands pressing yours back into the rough bark. The scrape of the tree against your backside and hands, his cock softening and seed dripping from your ruined cunt —it’s too much, and just for the moment, you will forget your previous misgivings and relish the feel of him. A warm thought to keep you company on lonely nights. He leans toward you, lips ghosting along your jawline until he reaches your ear. “Do not forget,” he echoes, almost mocking your previous words, but the glint in his eyes is more mirth than anger now, “I am your husband.”

He lets you down and steps back, righting himself as you do the same on shaky legs, replacing your swordbelt and shield as he picks up his axe and sword. You step to him, resting your hand over the fading marks on his cheek, fingers combing through the wiry hair of his unkempt beard. “How could I ever forget you, Ragnar Loðbrók?” You query, turning back to join the Saxons at their camp —unwilling to turn your husband into an oathbreaker.

[ Vikings taglist: @elizabethroestone @naaladareia @gossamarnie @n0sferatus @alicedopey @charming-merlin @ahotmesswithprivilege @certifiedlittleshit @pats-talking @gearhead66 @mrsragnarlodbrok @xxdearlybeloved @gxorg (for Ragnar) ] if you want to be added to my Vikings (Harald, Halfdan, and Ragnar) taglist, just let me know! if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you.

[writingamileperhour]

“The prince just fell in love with Cinderella because of her looks!”

Wrong. Okay, picture this–

So there’s the prince, okay? He’s like, smack dab in the center of the ballroom, and he is like, horrifically aware that this whole ball thing is a result of his dad falling into a panic about the royal lineage or whatever and he’s stuck listening to highborn girl after highborn girl, all lined up, introducing themselves like, “Oh yeah my family’s been a longtime supporter of the crown, and I think you’re cute, *cough* I’ve been told I have child-bearing hips *cough* Who said that? Anyway–” and Princey boy is just smiling through it, he has been the center of attention for entirely too long, he misses his emotional support horse, and is just internally like “Someone please kill me now.” And then… he sees her–This isn’t a love at first sight thing, this is a ‘what the hell is going on over there’ thing, because this girl has not gotten into the Debutante line for a solid 45 minutes. 

She’s just at the hors d’oeuvres table going HAM on the prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, and like, she’s polite about it, she’s happy to move aside for other people grabbing punch and canapes (and she’s really so sweet with the wait staff, it’s kind of cute because they’re like… definitely not used to being acknowledged) but it’s like, “Damn girl, did you not eat today?” and then the prince is kind of stuck with the uncomfortable thought of ‘how many girls starved themselves to fit into a corset for this.’ And then the Prince realizes he’s missed the past 4 Debutante introductions because he’s watching Mystery girl hork down crab rangoons. So he’s like, “Excuse me” and manages to break free from the never-ending parade of girls who will hop on his dick for status.

 And as he’s approaching Mystery Girl, it’s kind of hitting him that something’s not quite natural about her. Not fake, but not quite real. But at the same time this whole evening’s been just a whole circus of people acting fake as hell, so like, someone seeming a little off doesn’t seem bad, necessarily. And he sidles up to her like, “Hi,” and she’s like, “Oh–hey, have you tried the tapenade?” and she points to one of the plates, and at this point, he could hit her with the “You don’t know who I am, do you?” deal or the “Very funny, I see your play” deal, but at this point it occurs to him that, no, he hasn’t had anything to eat throughout this whole damn ball, partially because of being stuck in the debutante parade, partially because of nerves, and there’s something so disarming about the question that he grabs a crostini and she still seems so food-focused that it doesn’t seem possible that this is a play. So they both grab little plates and ditch the party.

She pretty much clears her plate in under two minutes and then has half of his plate, he’s cool with it, mostly he’s just absolutely fascinated listening to her.

See here’s the thing about Cinderella:

1. She doesn’t know he’s the prince. Like yeah, he’s been at the center of the room, but she’s kind of spent half the party eagerly looking around everywhere she’s allowed to go (”Have you seen rose garden? Have you seen the solarium??” further confirmation that she doesn’t know who she’s talking to) and the other half stuffing her face with food. 

2. She assumes she’s never going to see anyone here tonight again, and no one recognizes her, so she has no filter.

So she’s just talking about whatever with this guy. He seems cool. She talks about her friends, who are rats. She makes little outfits for them. Sometimes they bring her little gifts. She is already the coolest person the prince has ever met because of this. She pretty much offhandedly talks about whatever is fucked up about the kingdom that would take his advisors two hours of hemming and hawing and watering down to address. She just says it like it’s nothing, just funky little things she’s observed, and again, she’s not aware that he’s the prince, but it’s still pretty damn bold to bring up at a literal royal ball.

She… seems to have the majority of graces that lots of girls from Respectable Families™ have, but there’s something strange about it, something simultaneously broken and hardened, like the way you can see where ice has thawed and re-frozen. Also the way she talks about her family, and the way she avoids talking about her family– is raising several red flags, not in the “Oh this is another person trying to take advantage of me” sense, but in the “Oh fuck, something’s gone really wrong and you need help” sense and also lowkey a ‘damn is she even getting fed?’ sense. But he can’t say, ‘Hey, that’s not fucking normal for people to say that to you or treat you that way. We need to get you out of there,’ without sounding crazy himself, so for now, he’s just going to chill, make sure she’s comfortable, and keep enjoying the evening. She’s somehow befriended like 4 of the waitstaff so they’re willing to cover for them while they disappear for a little bit, and they get plenty of time to talk, but eventually it hits her that she hasn’t danced yet and she’s like “Come on! I bet we can make the prince jealous!” and he just bursts out laughing at that like “hell yeah, let’s make the prince jealous. He’s a real asshole.” Like clearly she’s having a good time, so who is he to make it weird? So they head back to the ballroom and they dance. And our girl, Mystery Girl, Cinderella, while they’re dancing, becomes acutely aware that everyone is staring. That doesn’t seem quite right. Like, yeah she’s hot, she knows she’s hot, but at least a good third of the party should still be focused on the prince, right? Where is that guy, anyway?

Oh.

Oh wait.

Oh shit.

And Princey Boy actually picks up on her realization and they whisper argue for like 3 minutes. “Why didn’t you tell me?! Now I feel like a goddamn idiot!” “I dunno it was nice being treated like a normal person” “Well me treating you like a normal person makes me a goddamn felon or something did you consider that?!” “Hey–Hey–it’s cool–you’re cool–I think you’re amazing, and if anyone says shit about you, I can shut it down.” “Well I don’t like that! That’s fucked up!” “I agree. It is fucked up, but I believe in you, and I think you should have a chance, and I’m here to back you up. I know power is fucked up right now. I know. But are you cool with working with me to change that?” And our girl Cindy pauses on that for a couple seconds, because.. she’s just spent hours with this guy and like.. she knows he’s a good guy, she knows he means well, so she’s like, “I don’t know how long I can actually work with you.” and the prince is like “Look, I know your home situation is complicated right now, but I really think we can–”

And then the bell starts ringing.

It’s midnight.

And then she takes off in a panic, and our prince just met the coolest person ever, and like, he’s pretty sure whatever situation they’re headed back to is fucked up, and all he’s got going to find her is a shoe. A shoe. 

[writingamileperhour]

lavandula stoechas

Druig x Reader

summary: after the disbandment of your family, you traveled the world painting it as beautiful as you found it. Your travels always brought you back to Druig, when he made a new building in his village, you paint it. As the emergence approached Druig was the only one who knew your permanent location by your signature in all your paintings; lavender.

wc: 2k

a/n: thank you for your patience with this story, anon! I hope you enjoy it. TBH I really hate lavender.... but it looks pretty. also minorly inspired by the story of painter Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun♡ I struggled a lot with this one, I hope you like it♡

A warm, gentle breeze blew through the stone doorway, the sun shining down on the city. You stood at the edge of the entryway, your eyes flashing between the city you grew to love and the replica on your canvas.

You hummed softly as the wind brushed against your face, tilting your head to get a better angle while you absentmindedly tapped your paintbrush on your palette. The people moved below you, their figures looking like ants from this high up. It was peaceful these days; the number of deviants was almost zero, which meant more time to spend with the people, paint them, paint with them, then there was him.

Druig was sprawled out on the stone slab, trying to catch his snack of choice in his mouth. He stayed relatively quiet while you worked, a soft groan escaping his lips whenever he missed a shot. "My love," you spoke softly, cutting the comfortable silence between you two.

The master of mind control turned his head, his blue eyes lingering on your back. "Yes?" he inquired in between chews.

Your eyes glanced up at the city below to compare it to your painting. "When will you let me paint you?" you asked him, returning your brush to the wet canvas.

Druig could sense the smile on your face. He lurched forward, sliding off the slab gracefully. He walked up next to you, letting his hand touch the small of your back, the warmth of his gentle touch radiating through your light purple tunic.

"Portraits are for when you're trying to remember someone and what they looked like," he chuckled, "you get the honor of seeing me every day... and I don't age."

You rolled your eyes at his response. It wasn't the first time in the centuries that you had asked to paint his features, and it wasn't the first time he'd turned you down. Even when you told him Ikaris sat down in front of you and let you paint him, Druig dismissed it. "It would be nice to have your picture in my room," you sighed.

Druig looked down at his empty palm only thing remaining was the crumbs. "It's a good thing I get to share your bed then, m'love" he quipped, showing you the emptiness in his palm.

With a deep exhale, you pull a piece of paper from the pocket of your apron. Taking the pencil from your hair, you drew a sloppy version of some grapes. You took the drawing and placed it on Druig's palm; gold circles and lines appeared around the paper before turning it into the real fruit.

Druig grinned boyishly and kissed your cheek, "Thank you," he said cooly as he popped one of the green grapes into his mouth. His eyes looked down at the painting, the pop of purple caught his eye "What's all this?" he asked, pointing to the flowers.

"Oh," you beamed, "It's lavender; I thought it could be my signature. So that when the mortals take credit for my work, I'll at least know it's mine."

"You could just put your name on it."

"I don't want all the questions," you replied, setting your tools down and beginning to walk over to the slab.

"What do you want?"

"To paint you, Druig." He smirked at your comment, making his way over to you. He took a seat beside you, letting you take a few of the grapes from his hand.

"Besides that," he mumbled.

You let your shoulders relax, leaning against the stoic Eternal beside you. "I want to be the greatest painter in the world, including Olympia. And when we finally go home, I want to be by your side forever."

Druig concealed his frown like his best-kept secret. He didn't have the heart to tell you about what was brewing below them. Doubt poked at his mind as he looked at your painting across from him. If he had told you about the brewing violence with the mortals and the rumors he'd heard from Makkari, would you have stayed with him if Ajak really let you all go? You could go and be the artist you'd always dreamed of, far away from the plan of isolation forming in his head.

"Go paint a masterpiece," Druig whimpered releasing your hand that was warm from the fires below, "then come find me if your wants are still the same."

The Eternals walked the grounds of the village Druig built, their eyes watching the people who lived there. "Ignorance is bliss," Kingo smirked as they walked.

Sprite looked at the wood buildings, some much older than the others. She caught sight of one of the walls, it was different than the others. The dull yellow and purple paint still stood out amongst the blues and greens of the environment. It must have been there for years since the paint was almost chipped away to nothing. The redhead raised an eyebrow and hummed in thought.

Druig woke up with a slight groan, sitting up in the make-shift bed. As he sat up, his tired eyes scanned the cold room. Your scattered clothes from the night before are no longer there. His still swollen lips formed a soft smile.

"A little higher, please," you sigh as you place your paintbrush in your mouth, as you stood on a wooden crate, a man below you holding up your wooden pallet "Thank you." You took the brush and added a soft purple to the lavender in the center of the painting.

You didn't tell Druig your plans to paint the first building they constructed in the Amazon. After declining to let you paint him, this was the next best thing. "What are you doing, my love?" Druig asked from behind you.

You turn and smiled brightly, "Painting! This place could use some color."

Druig exhaled softly and placed his arms behind his back. The few years you spent in Italy were kind to you, he noted. "Do you think the masters would approve?" he joked.

You huffed and climbed down off the crate, sauntering up to him before wrapping your arms around his neck. "This is better than some church."

Druig leaned in, his lips dangerously close to yours, "Don't let Michelangelo hear you say that, my beloved"

"I've missed all of you," Druig spoke lowly with a smirk as he emerged dramatically from the building. Sersi took in a deep breath, the smell of the earth was mixed with something else. It was floral and calming to her senses. Her warm brown eyes glanced at Druig's feet, short lavender springs were planted by the doorway. She tilted her head, that plant wasn't native here.

"Y/N," he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw you walk through his growing village. When you left him the third time you told him it would just be a year or two you'd have to spend without him. Then you'd been summonsed by Marie Antoniette to paint her family and you didn't come back till now. He didn't tell you how much it broke his heart to watch you go time after time. Maybe he should've just taken you with him when you offered the first time.

But here you were, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. Your light giggles send waves of warmth to his heart. "What brings you?" He asked, lips pressed against the top of your head.

You pulled away and placed your hands on the sides of his face, you missed the feeling of his skin. "Well, being associated with the royal family right now isn't ideal. I needed somewhere safe," you informed him.

Druig melted into your touch, his fingers covering your wrists delicately. His blue eyes looked into yours, "You are always safe with me."

He had gotten used to waking up beside you again, your frame pressed against his as you snored softly. Your hand rested on his chest, he glanced down at the dried paint that was lingering on your fingernails.

You awoke to the feeling of his nails scratching your own, "I love you," you yawn.

He hummed and nuzzled his head into the pillow, looking lovingly at the vase of purple and white flowers on his nightstand, "I love you too."

He let you paint as many building walls as you wanted in the few years you spent with him after the revolution; they were almost all covered in your art. Druig approached you one morning, your knees in the dirt and a twig in your hand. Your drawing came to life, lavender sprigs from the drawing you made rose next to the steps.

His expression turned sullen as he looked at the steps, an opened letter threatening to blow away in the wind sat in the center. He didn't need to read it to know what was inside. "Where are you wanted?" he managed, trying to not let his emotion show.

"Russia. The royal family wants me to do their portraits."

Druig turned to walk away wordlessly. He fully regretted telling you to go make masterpieces than night. He was tired of your absence, but this is what you wanted. This was your dream, and who was he to get in the way of that? And besides, you hadn't told him you wanted to stay.

Sersi approached Druig as he stared at the water. She stood next to him, twirling the purple flower in between her fingers. The place he kept safe for twenty generations was gone, all the memories destroyed by deviants. Your paintings on the wood were strewn across the camp, but what did it matter, you hadn't been around for centuries. There was nothing left for him here now, he could take his broken heart anywhere.

"Who do we find next?" Phastos asked as they boarded Kingo's jet. "Has anyone heard from Y/N?"

Druig frowned at the mention of your name. Kingo's laugh cut in as he looked into the camera "Y/N, the painter, the one who can bring art to life! She got famous and never returned," he spoke dramatically.

Druig clenched his fist, he could easily drive his sunglasses through the actor's heart. But was he wrong? She planted a garden and left him. The mission was important, the humans needed them... all of them. "I know where to find her."

The team walked along the large fields of lavender in the French countryside. The smell of the flowers was overwhelming, "Why would she wanna live here," Sprite complained as she swatted at a bug. Druig had his hands in his pockets as he lead the way to a little cottage at the top of the purple-covered hill. He hesitated as he approached the door. He took in a deep inhale and finally knocked hesitantly.

The door swung open, "Druig!" you cried happily, pulling him in for a hug. The mind controller swore he heard you whisper, "you finally came for me." but he wasn't sure. "Come in, come in," you ushered, holding onto his wrist.

He followed you inside the small dimly lit home, the skylight pouring golden light on the middle of the living room. He listened to you ramble about your paintings and what you'd been up to. He looked away from you and latched onto the large easel in your living room. His partly done portrait staring back at him. "You painted me," he interrupted.

Your bright demeanor shifted, shyly clasping your hands in your lap. You meekly nodded, "I got tired of asking," you said, your voice coming out as barely a whisper.

He swallowed and clenched his jaw, "You never came back," he told you bluntly.

You shrugged and avoided his gaze, "You never said goodbye when I left for Russia. I took it as a hint."

He jerked his chin upward, snapping his attention to you "I never wanted you to leave," he scoffed, slowly walking to you, "I regretted telling you to go off and paint. I just wanted you by my side, I didn't realize what I was missing till it was too late."

You closed the distance and slid your arms around his chest, your head falling to his shoulder, "It's not too late, my love," you whispered, your voice cracking. "I don't want to paint anymore, I just want you."

Druig pulled away and pressed his lips to yours, "Finish one last masterpiece," he told you as he pulled away, tilting his head towards the painting of him. You chuckle and nod happily in agreement.

"How about I paint one last building of yours?"

"About that... there's something we need to discuss outside, I brought company."