Part 1: USA

Hello everyone! Happy pride month!

Last month I stated that coming June I would post about historical queer events around the world. This is part 1 of North America. Later today I will post parts 2 & 3, Belize and Greenland. The pride month calendar can be seen in our pinned post!

That being said, I'm excited to show you what I've been working on. (Also thanks Mom for helping me edit this)

-Soul

Stonewall Inn was one of many bars in Greenwich Village, New York City. It, just like many others, was owned by the Genovese crime family, the local mafia. The family thought it would be profitable to cater towards the gay citizens, shunned by most every other bar and person. Police had been bribed to ignore it, and on the occasions that they did raid the bar, ‘dirty’ cops would send a tip.

June 28th 1969, Stonewall Inn had just experienced a routine raid a couple days before. Officers burst in carrying a warrant, and arrested thirteen people. In order to check if they were truly ‘cross-dressing’, female officers would take them into the bathroom and have them strip

Usually when this happened everyone would let it go, they’d be mad, but they wouldn’t do anything. This time, however, an officer had hit a butch lesbian(widely assumed to be Stormé DeLarverie), in the head with a baton while getting her into the car. She yelled for the onlookers to act, and they did. Bottles, stones, pennies, and other things were thrown at the police. Among the first to throw them were two trans lesbians of color, Sylvia Rivera and Marsha Johnshon. The officers boarded themselves in the Inn, but the crowd had begun setting it on fire. Not long later, the firemen and riot control came and took control of the situation.

This event may be the one we are most familiar with, but it’s not the only thing that happened. Here are some links to other events that happened shortly before and after.

Before Stonewall

After Stonewall

Sources 1 2 3

Back in 1987, the AIDS (acquired immunodeficiency syndrome) epidemic had just been labeled an epidemic. There were very few treatments, and only one FDA approved one. This treatment, called AZT (zidovudine) , was only manufactured by one company. Burroughs Wellcome, a pharmaceutical company, had made the drug nigh inaccessible. The price was so high, that very few people could afford it. 

ACT UP (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power), was created in response to this. Larry Kramer was among the ones to originate this movement. The activist groups scheduled a march on Wall Street in 1987, scheduled to disrupt traffic during the morning rush hour. Activists laid in the street and held signs, chanting phrases like “We are angry, we want action”, and “Release those drugs.” Seventeen activists were arrested, but shortly afterwards the FDA announced it would lower the required time for drugs to be approved from nine years, to seven. 

Sources 1 2

In June of 2015, gay marriage was legalized by the supreme court in the landmark case Obergefell v. Hodges, forcing fourteen states to legalize same-sex marriage.

The case started in 2013, when James Obergefell and his husband John Arthur James, filed a lawsuit in Ohio when they realized that their marriage would not be recognized on Arthur's death certificate.  During the lawsuit, Arthur, who had a terminal illness, passed.

Plaintiffs told Obergefell that state officials were not going to approve his name being on Arthur’s death certificate, but filed the complaint anyway. The judge the case went to, Judge Timothy Black, granted Obergefell a temporary order that would allow Arthur to be marked as wed. 

The plaintiffs and Judge Black were not happy with this however, and the plaintiffs amended their complaint, adding two more plaintiffs. They asked that Ohio declare that their refusal to honor out of state marriages on death certificates, was unconstitutional and asked that they would fix it. Judge Black also declared it unconstitutional and banned the state from enforcing it upon the plaintiffs.

The department of health director Wymyslo appealed this, but was unable to see the case through. As was his successor Lance Himes. Himes’ successor Hodges was the one to finally see the case in court, where it was appealed. 

Obergefell filed a petition for a Writ of Certiorari with the supreme court, in 2014. In January of 2015, the Supreme Court granted it, allowing the case to be heard. The Supreme Court, decided after much deliberation, to recognize same-sex marriage as a right under the fourteenth amendment.

Sources 1 2

Additional things that I wanted to share about, but cannot do justice for.

Intersex Awareness 1 2 3 4 5

Two-Spirit 1 2 3

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-> Part 2

I'm fighting so hard not to say something salty about how FAST the other Autobot medics gave up Pharma for dead and being irredeemably evil. But like, I'm a Pharma simp but I don't want to be that embarrassing

@jewishvoiceforpeace

"Today marks one year since the death of the People’s Bubbie Shatzi Weisberger. Before she passed, she said, “I’ll fight like hell for a free Palestine until the day I die. Then I’ll keep fighting. Your queer ancestor is with you.”

If you’ve been rising up in solidarity with Palestine these past two months, your queer ancestor is indeed with you, along with countless other antizionist Jewish ancestors. For many, family and community rifts may be especially painful right now. No matter what, you are not alone. Remember that you have a long lineage of elders and ancestors at your back.

Last night, Israel resumed its brutal bombing of Gaza and has already killed dozens of people. Shatzi would encourage all of us to do everything we can right now for a permanent, lasting ceasefire. To mourn the dead and fight like hell for the living.

Shatzi died on World AIDS Day, which was b’sheret ("destined”) because in addition to being a lifelong organizer, she was a nurse for 47 years who cared for people living and dying with AIDS.

From ACT UP’s organizing to end AIDS to the movement for Palestinian freedom, we honor the ancestors and movements who made us possible."

We will be forever grateful to the ancestors who paved the path before us. May their memories fuel us to work towards freedom for all people — no exceptions."

What's new(ish) in the settler-colonial state of the US is that a series of bills have been passed in the House (the Baby Senate as I like to say) and are on their way to the Senate that make it harder to voice support for Palestinians while also making sure your direct taxes aid the genocide in Gaza.

These bills affirm the US's stance on the settler-colonial Zionist Entity and the implicit ties that the government has with Israel and really — just goes to show you how Israel is just one big base for American Imperialism.

Anyways, there's still time to call your senate and tell them that you don't want these bills that only further spiral the US into fascism so even if you think it might not do much — it's important that we document our dissent in official sources. And while you're at it — call your congressperson and tell them that if they voted for this you're not voting for them next election. If they voted against the bills, still call your congresspeople and tell them you support their decision to vote against these bills.

Here are the bills:

📍Resolution: HR 6126

Resolution Name: Israel Security Supplemental Appropriations Act Description: Gives $14.3 Billion To Israel From The IRS (Taxes You Pay). Like straight up. Just takes it from an IRS project, which used our tax dollars to begin with, to give to Israel "defense." Link to check summary: https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/118/hr6126

📍Resolution: HR 798

Resolution Name: "Condemning the support of Hamas, Hezbollah, and other terrorist organizations at institutions of higher education, which may lead to the creation of a hostile environment for Jewish students, faculty, and staff." Description: Will Penalize Students On American College Campuses For Supporting Palestine. This includes "Free Palestine" Protests as according to Rep Owens who introduced the bill (Click). Link to check who voted: https://www.govtrack.us/congress/votes/118-2023/h578

📍Resolution: HR 3266

Resolution Name: "Tolerance in Palestinian Education Act" Description: They will be examining Palestinian education materials to see if it promotes "hate" or "violence" (aka are they teaching their children to become murderers??). Will inevitably require Revision Of Text Books In Palestinian Schools To Portray The Occupation In A Positive Light. Link to summary: https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/118/hr3266

📍Resolution: HR 340

Resolution Name: "The Hamas International Financing Prevent Action" Description: Claims to stop financial support for "terrorist" organizations but considering that Gaza's government is run by Hamas, then this would mean Gaza will receive absolutely no aid and donating to people in Gaza could get you in legal trouble. Link to summary: https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/118/hr340

There's a button for most of these bills that allows you to contact your representative directly. Please do take the time to contact them — while many of this isn't especially new to Palestinians, the difference is now that we have a larger power in numbers than we did in the past. Please make sure to advocate for you Palestinian comrades in the US whenever possible! Help us Free Palestine one step at a time!

MORE HUSBAND!SUKUNA PLSSSS (not forcing TvT) (not modern-)

tough love — ryomen sukuna x gn!reader

a/n: okay but like imagine living in a palace with this guy

your husband is sweet, but not in the traditional sense.

when you think of sweet, you think of nights spent with hushed whispers and mutual giggles, you think of flowers at your doorstep every single day.

you don’t think of a 7 foot something man, with the biggest scowl on his face, staring at you in the early morning and scaring the heebie-jeebies out of you.

but he is still sweet.

despite the blood staining his hands and his manic grin doing such acts, the same hands have the ability to hold you as gently as one would stroke a flower’s petal.

they’re able to cradle you and carry you to bed and tuck you in. sure, there is no goodnight kiss, but that’s because he doesn’t leave. when you rest, your husband stays awake on the look to make sure that no harm comes to you.

he is rough with what he does. still, you feel happiness about to overflow when, for example, he gets you jewelry he believes would suit you.

add to that, the fact that he personally puts them on you. you remember that one time he got back from his endeavor—terrorizing yet another village—and he greeted you with a box painted with gold and wrapped in velvet.

you took the box from his hands and opened. it revealed a very exquisite anklet with jewels of your favorite color. they are organized in a matter that you distinctly remember telling your husband about and how pretty that is to you.

you looked up to him giddily, “so you do pay attention!”

he takes the anklet from the box, grumbling, “shut up,” and despite his harsh tone and words, he kneels and puts the anklet on you. it’s a bit hard, considering his big hands and long nails, but he manages. he pulls back with a smirk, and you examine the anklet on your leg.

“I like it.”

“of course, you do; I chose it.”

he is an ass, but that same guy takes care of you when you’re sick—somehow. when news had spread that you’ve fallen ill, you expected that your husband would simply send the maids to your aid and the doctors to ensure your rapid and swift recovery.

instead, what you saw was the figure of your—scary—husband stood at your door. you peek from under the covers, a cough escaping your lips, “how can I help you, husband?”

he frowns down at you, “you look like shit.”

you start laughing, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit—his frown deepens—, “well—obviously! I am sick,” you try to get a look of what’s behind him, “where are the maids and doctors?”

he sits on the bed, right by your side, and rests a hand on your forehead, “I am not letting their filthy hands touch you,” a sigh threatens to escape him, when he feels your temperature, “you’re foolish.”

you huff, “I can’t control how sick I get, you know!”

“well, you could’ve avoided this, if you had listened to me when I told you not to play in the rain.”

the memory brings a dopey smile to your face.

the rain was falling freely but gently. the wind was blowing just right. and your husband was watching you, under the door frames so he doesn’t get wet. he called for you, of course, but you’re a free spirit and wanted to enjoy the outdoors a bit more.

you’re never confided in the walls of the palace, but it’s nice to feel like a rebel every once in a while even if it ends up with you being sick in bed.

he sees the little kick of your feet, “but, it was fun, right? I even managed to get you to stand in the rain with me!”

yes, he did, in the end and after much whining, go in the rain with you. he was simply standing there, but it’s the thought that counts, right? and because he is the king of curses, he didn’t get sick, but he did get stuck taking care of you.

it’s a win in his book—even if he hates seeing you all frail like that—but he would never tell you that.

he shoves a cup of water to your lips, and grumbles, “shut up and drink.”

your goes up to hold the cup, but his glare makes you slowly lower them back down. you get the memo that he wants to take care of you, to the fullest. he slowly helps you drink all of the water.

so you relax the entire night, letting him nurse you back to health. he is a bit clumsy throughout it, and you understand it’s because he never truly cared for someone before nor did someone care for him in a way so tender and gentle.

you think it’s cute: his determination mixed with a hint of roughness and cluelessness.

you want to giggle and chuckle at some of the things he does like how he was confused about which medicine you were supposed to take and at what hour.

or like how—despite his enormous strength—he was unable to take the cover of the bottle of herbs off, but you’re sure he would either glare at you or leave you to suffer alone for an hour.

so yeah, he stays with you the entire time you’re sick, night and day, never leaving your chambers. even when he needed something like medicine or a wet cloth, he would send the maids.

he stays by your side till you’re back to your feet with a smile on your face.

and when you’re dinning on the very long and gigantic table, you look intently at your husband’s face. he reminds you of something with his permanent scowl and grumpily attitude.

he notices your gaze and groans, “what is it now?”

you gasp as you finally come to the long awaited realization.

a tiger.

your husband is a tiger, one hell of a grumpy tiger.

“your face looks stupider than usual; what’s up with you now?”

an asshole tiger.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

"Governor Janet Mills announced that Maine has, two years ahead of time, surpassed its goal of installing 100,000 new heat pumps by 2025, a milestone that represents significant progress in reducing Maine’s reliance on heating oil, lowering heating costs, and curbing harmful carbon emissions.

To continue Maine’s momentum, Governor Mills also unveiled a new target: installing another 175,000 additional heat pumps in Maine by 2027, thereby bringing the number of heat pumps installed in Maine homes, businesses, and public buildings during her time in office to 275,000.

If this target is achieved, Maine would have more than 320,000 heat pumps in total installed across the state.

Heat pumps can be thought of as temperature recycling machines. They are filled with refrigerant fluid and contain a compressor, and they work by extracting excess heat and moving it around, either in or out of a house depending on whether it’s hot or cold.

It’s believed they work best in hot weather, but in February, Maine’s temperatures in some places plummeted during a cold snap to -60°F. Efficiency Maine, which aided in the state’s adoption of heat pumps by organizing rebates for customers under the provisions of the Inflation Reduction Act, did a survey of owners they had helped the previous year.

Many of [the heat pump owners] reported they were comfortable and warm, and offered to bring up the fact that by February they had already saved hundreds of dollars on home heating systems, over boilers, gas furnaces, and heating oil.

“We are setting an example for the nation,” said Mills at the announcement event. ​“Our transition to heat pumps is… curbing our reliance on fossil fuels, and cutting costs for Maine families, all while making them more comfortable in their homes—a hat trick for our state.”

The transition began in 2019 with bipartisan support of the Legislature, when Governor Mills enacted laws setting ambitious targets for transitioning to renewable energy and reducing greenhouse gas emissions."

-via Good News Network, July 31, 2023

Long post ahead. My full thoughts on the fallout series. TW for references to Sexual Assault, racism, antisemitism. It's not particularly in depth here- but I do reference specific acts of violence done in the show.

I've had people insinuate I'm only mad because I'm a New Vegas fan, because I think they retconned the lore. I'm not upset at the fallout show for its dubious lore additions and reworks. I think they're quite bad in places, but they're by far the least of the show's problems.

This isn't a case of a New Vegas fan mad they messed with my game in a way I didn't like.

Please refer to literally any of my posts pointing out the racism and antisemitism in the show. They brand a black man in episode 1. They named the enclave scientist after a real life holocaust survivor and then spent most of the show lobbing around his decapitated head like a volleyball.

But I'd like to consider other elements of the show. View it as a whole.

Consider the inherent misogyny of having a female main character whose entire character arc is just her getting abused for 8 episodes. How the trajectory of her character revolves around not giving up on the humanity of the man who waterboarded her and sold her to organ harvesters. A female main character who is raped in the first episode and watches her entire community get brutalized and who comes out of it completely unphased- still as plucky as ever- just worried about her dad.

Consider the horror of having a black woman be the one to drop the bombs. Consider the horror of her leading a council of elites who have infiltrated and taken over the US government. Consider the ways this group is presented and shown, the ways every fault of the US government in the series is offloaded onto a shadowy group of elites.

Consider how the capitalist critique of the show only goes so far as saying there's a secret organization of bad people who must be purged. The antisemitism and conspiratorial nonsense inherent to that premise.

Consider the rampant classism with the show's depiction of Wastelanders as either animalistic monsters or too stupid to live.

Consider the ways the show punishes nearly every act of kindness- the ways the world rewards might-makes-right authoritarians.

Consider the way the NCR collapsed offscreen because a disgruntled husband was mad his wife left him, and how after it collapsed the army immediately became raiders and the survivors became blood drinking cultists. Don't give me "it's just shady sands that collapsed" because the NCR was a developed nation. If one of their cities blew up, they would send aid. They would assist.

Consider the way the show constantly uses sex crimes as comedy and horror- the incest jokes and the "chicken fucker" bit, and the Vault 4 monster impregnation and the main character's rape in the first episode.

Consider the ableism of the treatment of ghouls, how every ghoul is now a ticking time bomb, how Lucy helps free a small dementia-riddled old ghoul woman from a medical torture facility and then is immediately punished with the woman trying to inexplicably murder her. Thaddeus openly talks about ghoul exterminationism and it's never a joke or a bit- he just says it and nobody reacts or says anything.

Consider the way the Vault 33 town councillors use real world progressive talking points about restorative justice and prison abolition and multiculturalism- meanwhile Norm advocates for the death penalty and a closed society. How Norm is shown as good and righteous and the vault dwellers range from deluded to damningly stupid- how the mere concept of restorative justice is made a farce because the NCR raiders are screaming about eating organs and murdering people 24/7.

Consider the way they removed the Boneyard, and the Followers of the Apocalypse by extension. In New Vegas we heard about the Followers operating a university in LA. It's gone now. Not destroyed by bombs- but written out of existence because the Boneyard never existed, and Shady Sands is in its place. Consider what that says about this world- that the group most dedicated to peace and rebuilding has been surgically excised from the narrative- destroyed more wholly than even the NCR- written out of existence entirely.

This is the single most reactionary fallout story that has been produced. By a fucking country mile.

Whatever lore critiques there are should be secondary. The storytelling is reactionary in ways I straight up have not seen from other Bethesda entries in the series. It is cruel to a fault, and depicts a world that is incapable of healing or growing- where the best you can do is hold onto that small spark of goodness while every bit of the society around you tries to murder it out of you. This isn't a story about rebuilding, or about postwar politics, or about society- it's about dueling warlords and might makes right attitudes and grimdark views of the nature of humanity. It's fallout in aesthetics alone- and it's perhaps the most hateful thing I've seen come out of this series outside of the actual neonazis in the fanbase.

Whatever hope there is in Moldaver's final moments looking out over the glittering ruins of LA is undercut by the knowledge of what came before. What was destroyed. And it's undercut by the Brotherhood's totalitarian control. It's not hopeful, it's the bare minimum of survival. It's all the progress of the postwar world, 200 years of humanity and history, reduced to just barely getting the lights back on.

In the intro to fallout 1, "War Never Changes" is used as thematic glue. It ties together two concepts- past wars- and present capitalism and militarism.

Ron Perlman describes the Roman Empire, the Spanish conquests of the Americas, and the Nazi regime- and then he says "war never changes" and uses it to connect those past atrocities to the modern world of the setting- to the war that ended everything. The phrase existed to link the resource wars and their ensuing fallout to all the crimes of empire prior. War never changes wasn't a hard and fast rule of human nature- it was a specific condemnation of America.

Lonesome Road even ends with the phrase refuted. War Never Changes. But men do, through the roads they walk. There is hope. That's what this series has always been about. The Master died at the end of fallout 1 and said "leave while you still have hope."

In this show, the black woman Vault Tec exec who ends the world says the phrase. It's stripped of all meaning. Just a generic throwback because it's a famous phrase in the series' history. It's not a condemnation of America, it's a celebratory thing. Vault Tec toasting to the end of the world.

What a thing to see this series become. What a thing to see celebrated.

Loss and Bravery: Intimate Snapshots From the First Decade of the AIDS Crisis (ph. Sarah Krulwich, Jim Estrin, Terrence McCarthy)

1. Members of Act Up (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) demonstrating during rush hour in Grand Central Terminal (Jan. 23, 1991) 2. At Coming Home Hospice in San Francisco, David Brewster, an AIDS patient, being attended to by his friend Michael Bolleri (Jan. 29, 1989) 3. Andrew Weisser, a volunteer cook, serving a meal at Our House, a Los Angeles facility that helped people with AIDS (Jan. 29, 1989) 4. Margie Wilson dancing to a music video with her foster children, who have AIDS (May 5, 1988) 5. Volunteers at the Names Project in San Francisco sewing quilt panels to memorialize those who have died of AIDS (Sept. 23, 1987) 6. Robert Sanford, having relearned to play the piano without the benefit of sight, at a recital at the Lighthouse, a New York association for the blind 7. Near the Ugandan town of Masaka, a 28-year-old Ugandan woman being comforted by Maureen Nakimera, a social worker from an AIDS support organization (Aug. 23, 1990)

If you are feeling helpless: Ways to help student protests that only require a phone

(For USA but much/most of this likely applies to other countries)

TL;DR make an Instagram and follow local SJP and PYM chapters for instructions. This info will not be posted on Tumblr.

First, going to IRL protests is much lower-risk than Tumblr is making it seem. Especially if you are white or a US citizen and listen to your organizers, you are unlikely to have any convictions on your record, and any such unlikely conviction will most likely get you a few hours in a holding cell and community service, not prison time. Depends on the state but either way, arrest is unlikely especially during daylight hours.

Second, if you are unable to attend protests right now (and while supplies are great, people are needed even more!) there are many other things you can do if you're unable to protest or leave your place of residence.

You can make these phone calls from anywhere. You can call Emory University from NYC and you can call NYU from Oregon. Same with police stations. Ring their phones off the hook.

Jail support (in person, likely in shifts). Supporting comrades in jail with food, etc while they wait to be released on bail. See your local PYM and SJP chapters' Instagrams for how to get involved there. If you don't have an Instagram, make one. Send them a DM on Insta if it's not clear how to get involved.

Call police commissioner and precincts to get charges dropped. Even on the weekend, if people are arrested, SJP and PYM will post phone numbers for local precincts. UT protestors had all charges dropped. Search for "my city precinct phone number" and "my city police commissioner" if you're in a big city there will be multiple precincts, feel free to call all of them if local orgs don't tell you which ones to call.

Call universities where students are protesting, especially if you're at all affiliated, especially especially if you are an alum or have kids in college. Demand that there be no retaliation for protestors. Again, SJP chapters will likely post this info but you can look it up yourself. Specific numbers to look for: president's office, development office

Call local government (mayor, city council, etc.) demanding that city police not infringe on protestors' rights to free speech and demand that any acts of police brutality be condemned and face consequences.

Court support (in person) show support in court for anyone who has court coming up. Usually no phones/electronics/signs allowed, but shows of solidarity appreciated. Local groups will have more info. Again, make an Instagram.

Note: You are not going to turn your mayor, your local police chief, or college intern in the university development office into a leftist with these calls, but these calls can get legal (police) and disciplinary (school) charges dismissed. These are practical calls, not ideological ones.

Remember the reason for these protests: As always, keep calling your government representatives urging them to reinstate funding to UNRWA, ending aid to Israel, supporting Palestinian statehood, and supporting an immediate permanent ceasefire, and anything else you care to add. Make sure to give your name, zip code, and other info so they can document your call.

Other tumblr users, please add anything you think might be helpful.

Don't be paralyzed. Call, complain, threaten to withhold votes and money. If you have a phone, you can do something.

How They Treat You During Periods - Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuji, Fushiguro Megumi x Reader (Separate)

Summary: How some of the JJK men react to and treat you during periods!

Words: 1051

CW: SFW; Fluff; Domestic Fluff; Crack; Periods; Blood mentions.

AN: this a complex topic because everybody who menstruates has a different organism and a different dynamic, so this is very based on my own experiences, but i tried thinking about situations that could include more people ok :')

Please, do not repost or translate.

GOJO SATORU - More chill than you thought he would be. The first time you talked about it was when you had cramps during a date and tried to talk him out of doing anything.

He just came right out "Hey, there's nothing to be shy about! I'm just definitely not letting my woman suffer in front of me just to save face!" 

He sits you down, holds you close and asks if you're ok. "If you don't have medicine on you, we can stop by a store to get it while heading to your place". Escorts you home, makes you tea and tucks you in to nap. 

After you've been together long enough he's started getting real good at tracking your cycles and adjusting whatever plans you have. "Hm... honey, I've been thinking of taking some days off and heading to the beach, but next week would be no good for you right? Should we wait a little?" 

He stuffs you in candy and treats if you're feeling down (sure he'll snatch some of those...). 

One day you get a message from him:

"Babe SOS   Do we have any first aid home?  My nose is kinda bleeding...hehe"

"Toru!! You ok??  There should be some cotton balls in the bathroom" 

When you get home you find him with a whole ass tampon stuck up his nostril...."Satoru!!! What the hell are you doing?!?"

"Oh hey, honey! Sorry, couldn't find the cotton balls but figured this was even better and it DOES work wonders!", he tells you with a proud grin on his face... 

GETO SUGURU - Suguru may seem a little indifferent, but it's just that he doesn't want to step over your independence. He's trying not to overdo things and will only act after you actively ask for something.

That being said, if that's what you want, he's an expert in doing your chores and cleaning the house for you. 

He was once doing the laundry and you caught him staring at your sheets.

"Something wron-" you gasp, realizing there's a big blotch of blood in it.

"Babe! You don't have to wash this one!" you cry, feeling your face burn red.

"What are you talking about? I was just trying to remember how to take off blood stains", lifting it out of your reach as you try to grab it. "Was it vinegar or lemon..." he mumbles, walking over to your kitchen cabinets. 

He secretly enjoys that you get mellower and needy with him. You won't have to ask twice if you demand an extra tight hug. 

Loves aromatherapy and gave you a whole kit with a diffuser and oils that ease pain and help with relaxation. If you don't use it he'll pout and nag non stop until you turn it on. "Suuuguu...you're giving me more headaches than my uterus right now dear..." "If you had it on from the start there would be no ache whatsoever, dummy!" 

He's now GREAT with massages. You've always complained about how your back and thighs ache when you're menstruated, so he took some lessons to help you out with that. 

NANAMI KENTO - With Nanami it's princess treatment all the way! This man thinks it's freaking amazing how you'll have to deal with this for so long in your life, through work and everything, and that you're badass for that. I mean, you're literally bleeding!!! That's concerning enough to happen to someone he loves. 

So he'll put all the effort he can to minimize any discomfort you have on those days. As soon as it became a regular thing for you to stay over at his place, he purchased all sorts of tea, heat pads and asked you to tell him what pads or tampons he should buy to stock some. 

He loves to have dates at home, so it's a win-win situation when you stay in; he cooks you something warm and lays around with you all day. "Is this position all right love?" While rubbing gently your stomach. 

He also loves to give you useful gifts, so once he even went as far as to surprise you with a new care kit from a high end brand in a box full of products to pamper you. 

The best to have around if you're out too. Never gets bothered if you have to go to the restroom too often and makes sure the place you're attending has good access to those. 

ITADORI YUJI - Freaks out a little when you tell him you don't feel like going on a date because you're on your period. He forgot such things were a very real thing if he was dating you. Has the mindset that, as his S/O, your period is his period too!! 

You're totally lost for words when he first tells you that.....he just means he feels responsible for your well being throughout this time. 

Definitely asks Nobara for help on how to help you feel better. 

He's a really active guy and always wants you to tag along and spend time with him, so he researched a lot about exercises that'll be better to practice during that time. 

At some point in your relationship will text you:

"yo babe, I'm at the pads aisle what's your pussy size??" 

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI - Also chill about it. An absolute angel when it comes to being patient to you, who turns into a SAINT if you're on your period. 

He just knows that there are better times to deal with any stressful matters than now, so it's only love with this guy for a few days. 

He prefers to talk to you in person instead of texting, but if you mention being on your period, you'll get the sweetest messages all day long popping up on your phone to check out how you're doing.

"Love, did you eat well?" "Hey, do you need anything?" "Sunshine, hope you're having a good day"  “Never forget you’re amazing”

Secretly, has also consulted Nobara and his sister to get some tips on what he could do.

Gets his dogs to cuddle with you in bed, to keep your belly warm, if he's busy around the house. 

He has a playlist with hours and hours of comfort movies you watch together when you don't want to leave the sofa/bed. He even watches your favorite shoujo with you if you ask!

A/N: also, yes, I do think Gojo and Geto being good parents (to Tsukimi, Mimiko and Nanako) have helped them learn about periods.

Interactions are always appreciated ☆* have a lovely day!

Nick Bostrom's "Fable of the Dragon Tyrant," which CGP Grey adapted into a video, left me feeling unsatisfied, and I got a certain unsettling vibe about the entire story.

I don't think it was the dragon's lack of agency, that just makes it an unusually traditional Western dragon.

You're a master at picking narratives apart to figure out why they don't satisfy. Do you have any insight, opinions, or cracktheories about why this story might be unsatisfying to some folks?

Probably because it's a very unsubtle metaphor casting the dragon as death, and death itself as a cruel, malevolent beast devouring and subjugating humanity for its own whims. This is very much intentional on the part of the writer. The paradigm of the story is that the dragon is huge, terrifying and incalculably cruel, and everyone lives their lives in the shadow of its terror or are just too deluded to recognize that it's COMING TO EAT THEM OH GOD

Intrinsic in this metaphorical structure is the idea that the dragon, aka death, is an artificial imposition on the natural order, and if we just got rid of the big ol' mean dragon, everybody would live forever and be fine. Accepting that the dragon exists is framed as a sign of desperation or even cowardice. This is an understandable read when facing a monster that only SEEMS timeless and inevitable (like LeGuin's thoughts comparing the current state of capitalism to the historical acceptance of the divine right of kings) but becomes bizarre when applied to something as legitimately factual as biological death. It's not even framed as unnatural death - the dragon specifically gets sent mostly old people. The metaphor is very explicitly about trying to frame death from old age as a big horrible dragon that everyone only thinks is unstoppable.

I get what they're going for here. The purpose of this story is to make the audience question if death is a true inevitability or if it can be fought, staved off, even defeated. But in the process, the story frames the systems of the world that have formed around death - doctors, pallative caregivers, will executors - as macabre gears in the machine dedicated to the genocidal cruelty of feeding the dragon.

In the dragon tyrant framing, these people only exist to make the rest of the world more okay with flinging themselves down the gullet of the dragon and to streamline the process by which everybody dies. By casting death as the enemy, everybody whose jobs are based on the compassionate act of comforting and aiding people suffering from loss become reframed as collaborators with the incalculably evil enemy, and everyone who's ever accepted their own death becomes a loser. This is a deeply cruel way to frame people who dedicate their lives to helping people through one of the hardest and most tragic aspects of life.

Damn, that's fucked up. Look at this eloquent idiot, explaining why we should be okay with letting a big dragon eat us because it's the natural order. Clearly he is wrong and it's not debasing at all to want to stay alive and not get eaten by a big dragon. This is a fallacy of false analogy: death is like being eaten by a big mean dragon. All his arguments look ridiculous when applied to getting eaten by a big mean dragon, therefore they must be ridiculous when applied to dying when your organs start failing because they've been running nonstop for nine decades and biological systems accumulate wear and tear like literally everything else in the universe.

Entropy increases; systems break down, from DNA to planetary orbits. Successfully shoot down the dragon and you'll end up outliving everything you thought was eternal, even the stars. The goal of immortality isn't really to personally witness the sun exploding, it's to have more good time. It's to make your twenties last into your sixties. It's to keep your back painless and your vision good for longer. We want to postpone the story's end as long as we can, and so we extrapolate "more time" into "I never want to die, I want to be young and healthy and hot forever" even though "forever" doesn't exist. To look to "forever" is to understand that your culture and language will drift, your home will eventually crumble out from under you, your shoreline will erode and change, your climate will transform, your tectonic plate will subduct or shatter, your moon's orbit will slow and tidally lock, and eventually your sun will start burning helium and cook your planet. You don't want "forever" to look like that, you want it to look like your twenties felt. But at that point you aren't fighting the Big Mean Dragon That Eats People, you're fighting the ocean and the biosphere and the earth and the stars, trying to hold them in place against entropy so your immortality can have an equally immortal world to enjoy it in. No, this argument doesn't want true immortality, it wants their twenties to last longer. But it can't admit that.

Back to the story. There's a condescending and spiteful tone in the narration. Death (being eaten by a big mean dragon) is OBVIOUSLY awful and we should all be fighting as hard as we can to make it stop happening. Even a child can see it.

The story even helpfully adds a lengthy moral explanation at the end, in case you didn't understand that the dragon was the inevitability of death and we should dedicate all our resources to figuring out how to make a big rocket and shoot it.

"Nobody should ever die" is generally understood to be a childish dream with extremely obvious and unpleasant consequences that would turn its realization into an unending and waking nightmare, and once out of the confines of easy metaphor, the story tries to act like that wasn't what it was just saying. But its more realistic proposed substitute, "It would be great if people could live longer and have more healthy, youthful years in them," is probably the world's most uncontroversial statement. This story frames it like a bold revelation that the world will attempt to beat down and crush out of a misguided acceptance that Big Mean Dragon comes for us all. It's a morality fable whose conclusion is "I hope science improves the length and quality of our lives, potentially even to the point where we never have to die at all," which has been the number one goal of huge swaths of science since the invention of agriculture. This is not a bold or controversial take. It's just being written as though we're all looking at the naked emperor and pretending he's wearing pants.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲 | 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶A deleted scene from chapter twelve where receptionist!reader acts like a bimbo in front of Eddie just to rile him up. Written very tongue-in-cheek at the beginning.✶

NSFW — sexual themes, handjob, unresolved sexual tension, 18+

↳ start the story here to catch up!

[wc: 2.1k]

Heeding your checklist of chores, you idled at the workbench against the far corner of the wall. There were a few of the usual things you organized: placing nuts and bolts in drawers, facing products with their labels out, tidying small boxes, folding the end of the paper towel roll so it didn’t unfurl itself in the turbulent path of the oscillating fan. You bent over to toss cellophane wrappers into the waste paper bin, and took your time musing if the liner should be changed despite the little amount of balled up paper weighing down the bottom. Standing, you swept off the unsanded tabletop with your hands, and worked a crusty rag over an oil streak, making a mental note to call the laundry service to swing by a day early.

As you stepped away, you knocked a pencil to the floor. Its bright yellow body was impossible to miss, along with its excruciatingly long hexagonal roll carried by your elbow to the very edge, but you managed. You knelt to your hands and knees to retrieve the writing utensil, inspecting its broken tip. The graphite was missing completely, leaving behind an empty hole where it once was. An unfortunate accident. You rotated it a few times looking for other flaws—an honorable way to spend your time.

“You doin’ this on purpose?” gruffed out an annoyed voice behind you.

No need to check, you heard the amused twist at the corner of his lips. His left canine was probably on show, too. Not in a hurry to confirm, you gripped the pencil in your fist, and leaned forward, stretching in search of the missing lead before it was stomped into dust and potentially transferred from someone’s boot sole into a wealthy client’s car. You were thinking of them, really.

The floor was a rewarding oasis in the noonday sun baking through the warehouse windows. Your flat splayed hands and knuckles worked over the grit of dirt to inch your pursuit closer to the wall, drinking in the chill of the epoxy coated concrete cooling you down better than a 50 cent clear plastic cup of Kool Aid at a kid’s misspelled lemonaide stand. Though, the unforgiving flooring bit into your joints, and indented your knees with the netting of your pantyhose. But Eddie’s study did not sway to your shoe slipping off your heel. No, he was a gentleman. And as a gentleman, he praised the wealth of curves you put on display.

He used the heels of his heavy boots to drag himself from under a Mustang, thumping up beside you, wheels on the creeper rolling along the slick floor.

The lower you dipped your chest, the higher your skirt hem tickled the back of your thighs. In total innocence—truly giving your best effort to find the missing pencil tip—you tilted your hips to unimaginable degrees, presenting your ass to the point even your lower back side-eyed your act.

Smooth backs of fingers lifted the hem more. Eddie curled his index under your skirt, and assisted it to the crease of your cheek, following the change in nylon with his rough thumbprint as it wove denser around your thighs to hold you in. Tummy Control, it was advertised as. To a man who had seldom encounters with women, this meant very little to him, as did the change in texture. Though, curiously, he rubbed at it with interest.

“You’re something else, you know that?” But his voice was too playful to shame you, hardly traipsing through his throat to chastise. “I’m out here working my ass off, and you’re struttin’ around the garage in this lil’ piece.” The little piece in question was your corporate approved pencil skirt from a long forgotten temp job when your apartment lost two roommates in a breakup, and rent was past due.

Pandering to your audience of one, you shuffled two of the tiniest inches backwards, and steadied your hand on his outstretched leg. You bent at the hips, filling his large palm with a handful of your ass, and he admired you in a brush of fingertips near the innermost valley of your thigh, licking a divine chill up your spine. Playing along, you pretended to just notice him, assuming a sinless gasp, and following it with many airheaded inflections, “Oh! Didn’t see you there, handsome. Am I distracting you?”

The standing fan swung its head in your direction, sweeping Eddie’s bangs off his forehead in a brief burst.

You’d been on hundreds of dates, and not once had you been so deeply complimented by someone’s gaze.

Eddie dwelled in the distraction. He stroked his thumb over the fat, and traced his pinky along the hypersensitive crease before the swell which had your muscles tightening in a squirm. He was so close to the middle seam of the pantyhose. Perhaps he knew this as well, but didn’t care—he was just happy to be touching you. Laid out in the neon orange creeper, sun glancing off the packed garage, casting a glow across his puffy face. Sleepy eyes, messy hair, unbearably adorable grin—the type of candid expression showing how honored he was to look at you, so forthcoming and open. A trap, if there ever was one, luring you into picturing him twisted amongst your bedding on a late morning.

As he tracked his gaze over your backside, an aching reminder moseyed its way into his consciousness. Setting into a glare, he forced his way through any pleasantness lingering in his chest to tell you plainly, “Sweetheart, you’re fucking torturing me here.” You giggled, and he broke, falling victim to the squinch at his crow’s feet.

“You think I’m not torturing myself, too?”

“Dunno.” He craned his head back to check underneath the car for where each pair of boots were moving, and you peeped through the driver’s side window to keep tabs on the seated customers in the lobby. Once you both ensured there was no danger of being caught, he turned his attention to you fully. “You’re not wearing my favorite pair, so I couldn’t tell.” In case you weren’t sure, he wrung his hand around your leg, and drummed his fingers where there should be an easily accessible hole in your tights, where he could drag his fingers through your slick truth. His sorry features were tainted with remorse when your plush thighs weren't spilling out from the nylon; however, he drew his eyebrows in mock sympathy, and traced the area. “Could make these my new favorite pair, though.”

You about melted into a puddle of dumbstruck glee at his first foray into initiating dirty talk. “Yeah?” you stressed the word like he would—big smile and all. You raised the placement of your grip on his leg up, further, still going until the inside of your thumb threatened to assist what laid fat and heavy towards his hip. Car exhaust, pungent motor oil, and fumes swam in your head. Mind dizzy, you skimmed your nails over his heavy sack pressed tight against the seam of his coveralls. An implied line was drawn along your heat by his featherlight touch. You leaned over him, real close, chest over chest, knees spread because his hand encouraged you to do so. Mouth to mouth, considering kissing the dirt from his lips. “Wanna rip ‘em, and have me on top while you’re on this thing?”

Eddie moaned, and it wasn’t shy in the loud garage. “Want it so fucking bad, baby.”

A single ding from the bell atop your desk drew your attention.

Bodies paused, you both existed in the indecision of what to do. Eddie’s forehead wrinkled from his high brows driving his attention backwards, peering under the car again. The other employees of David’s Auto Repair shuffled around a Studebaker. There was no one inside to help the customer. What a shame.

Eddie lowered his chin in long clockticks, seeking you behind his heavy lashes and heavier gaze. His nose met the side of yours in an unrefined graze, dragging his chapped lips wherever he felt your smile. He kissed you hungry. Needy, desperate to fit the magnitude of his palm at the back of your head, and dirty your mouth with noses mashed together. He wanted you messy, he wanted you catching your balance on the creeper for the same reason his held sigh became your next breath, taking a pinch of your pantyhose over your pussy and twisting it around his fist to demonstrate his annoyance, as if the dull ache of your bottom lip against his teeth wasn’t illustrative enough. The peak of your whine and his approving hum tethered the snap of your tights and the squeeze he left on your thigh. Filthy warmth blanketed the top of your hand. Stifling hot, calluses running rough over your knuckles as he cupped your palm over his hard length, and curled your fingers around himself, kicking his hips up to really stretch the limits of your grip. Together, he guided you in a few teasing pumps along the base, ego growing at the pretty sound hitched in your throat.

“Hey, Ed!” Mr. Moore’s yell burst the bubble you two surrounded yourselves in. “C’mere, ‘nd look at this.”

It wasn’t an emergency. It could wait. There were enough mechanics on duty, they could figure out what they were gawking at, or admiring, or whatever it was they were doing. That was the justification behind your shared look with Eddie, and the tension holding you two apart faded within seconds. If anything it spurred you on. You raked your fingers through his hair, mussing the roots at the crown of his head, covering the side of his body with yours, stroking his cock. The consequences didn’t matter. He increased the pressure and showed you how he liked it when you looped your thumb and index around the edge of his fat tip and pumped him faster—

Ding, ding, ding.

The kiss slowed from the distraction, but you tried to keep going, staying in the moment with Eddie’s praise burning your cheeks. He was eager, he was close. He was whispering, “Feels fucking good when you—yeah—like that,” when you added the twist of your wrist to the end of motion.

“Ed!” Mr. Moore’s voice ruined the moment. “Where’d he… And wasn’t she at her desk a second ago?”

Ding, ding ding!

Your foreheads crashed together in a defeated groan.

Eddie sagged completely limp on the creeper. “Why do you do this to me?” He dropped his arms in a big shrug, kicking his legs out flat, throbbing hard in your palm. You curbed the urge to keep going and dragged your fingers away.

“Hey, you’re the one who started this,” you sniffed, sitting back to fan your face in effort to make yourself presentable while he considered rolling under the car for the next eternity to hide his blazing red cheeks.

“I was a good worker before you came along,” he argued, pointing at you with a nail outlined in grime. He did it with such vigor his shoulders curled off the creeper, sitting up to give you a real good talkin’ to. “I never did this sorta shit with anyone before you showed up. You’re bad for me. You drive me crazy.” Not an ounce of anger dared enter his tone, not even having strength to control his smile from going lopsided, dimpling, nose scrunching in a badly contained laugh. Never would he want you to think he was mad at you, even as a joke. He was soft like that.

Eddie broke first, and that’s all you needed to kiss him against the black Mustang door, thud on the metal deadened by his nervous hand coming up to brush his curls flat.

“You drive me crazy too,” you promised against his lips. “Now, try not to cum your pants when I bend over to get this trash, and have fun explaining to the guys why you can’t stand up for the next few minutes.” You cocked your head, and smacked your tongue in a hard, “‘Kay?”

He glared at your smugness. Glared at your backside, too. Scowled at his grip formed around the swollen length rising so obvious no matter how he fixed his legs, and surrendered to the humiliation of laying back on the creeper, summoning enough dignity to roll himself to the other side where a gaggle of boots scuffed the ground in search for him, and give some excuse that he was very busy fixing something and wouldn’t be available for the foreseeable future.

originally thursday's section in chapter twelve was split into three separate scenes. i was almost finished writing the first two when i took the section in a different direction and mashed all the important elements into the scene in the breakroom which did make the cut. truthfully i had only written to eddie's line of "wanting it so badly" and they would've gotten interrupted at that point (before any touching), but since this isn't exactly canon, i went ahead and had fun and made it a little spicier.

you might also recognize some imagery, lines of prose, or descriptions i salvaged from this piece and put into the final one!

Hi! Idk if ur still doing the kiss prompts, but can I request number 65 for Inumaki? If ur not writing for the prompts anymore feel free to ignore this.

kiss prompt 65: one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other ___

"that was really stupid,"

you were a little upset.

"i mean, did you even fucking think? you're not an idiot. or maybe you are!"

you were a little more than upset.

toge could only sit on the cot of the cot in the infirmary, knowing no other help was coming to save him from your scolding, as it was the middle of the night and the place was pretty much abandoned at this time. it was only him and you. and you were storming around the place as you familiarized yourself with shoko's organization, trying to gather the supplies you needed to fix him up after an assignment gone awry.

he'd tried to assure you that he could tend to his own first aid, but you'd given him a sharp glare that told him to shut his mouth, sit down, and not argue.

"i've never seen something so reckless and so fucking pointless in my whole life," you're muttering as you slam cabinet doors and throw supplies one after another on the counter beside where toge sat. "you're lucky you're not dead, you know that?"

you don't look at him, despite his eyes following your every movement. you keep your head down, or you're too focused on finding something.

"salmon" he agrees quietly.

when you've finally gathered everything you needed to tend to the open gash on his arm, as well as the various smaller wounds covering his body, you walk back towards him. you still don't meet his eyes as you silently begin to soak a rag in rubbing alcohol. but he can see the deep frown pulling on your face.

he feels guilty- as well as a lot of pain- but the guilt sits heavier in his stomach. you have every right to be this angry with him. he had acted recklessly. but in his defense he'd been trying to protect you. the large slice on his shoulder would have been nothing compared to what would have happened had he not shoved you out of the way and taken the blow for himself.

you very well could've lost your head. and here you were fussing over a banged up arm that hurt now but would heal in a few weeks.

"this is really gonna hurt" you mumble before you began cleaning up the wound.

you're right, he hisses and shifts his weight around as you wipe away the excess blood and sterilize the wound as quickly as you can. you're just as uncomfortable seeing him in so much pain, and it makes your throat burn, but you keep yourself focused on cleaning him up to the best of your ability. you're no stranger to tending to wounds such as these.

you're still muttering in a scolding tone as you prep the needle. something about how much you hate doing stitches, how stupid he is for acting without thinking, how shoko should be the one here to fix him up, and toge takes it all with a grain of salt. even if he could speak, there wasn't anything he could say to ease your irritation.

but he hates it. he's seen you upset, but not like this, and never with him. his stomach churns with the discomfort of knowing you were so cross with him.

you warn him again before you begin stitching up the wound. but there's a hesitation in you as he braces himself, and he glances over to see that your hands are trembling. violently. your hands shake so much he's surprised you haven't dropped the needle, but you seem to have an iron grip on the small tool.

you still refuse to look at him, your eyes set hard on the wound that was going to start bleeding again if you didn't get your shit together.

"mustard leaf?" with his other hand, toge reaches towards you, tentatively resting his hand over yours, easing some of it's shake, but not completely. he still feels the tremors under his touch.

but almost as soon as he touches you, you're pulling your hand away from his grasp, letting out a long breath, and getting to work on stitching him up.

twelve stitches. you curse each one you knot up. twelve stitches that could've been avoided.

you're tying off the last one when he hears a small sound come from you that has him trying to get a better look at you, even though you're avoiding his gaze like the plague.

but then it happens again, a small choked sound comes from your throat and there's nothing you could do to cover it.

it was a whimper.

with furrowed brows, toge reaches for you again, this time firmly grabbing your hand. finally, you look up at him.

your eyes are filled with tears, and they're pouring down your cheeks in steady streams. his face contorts into one of unease, eyes flickering over your features in a hurried assessment to find what was wrong.

and when his hands began moving across your arms, trying to find where you were hurt, you shook your head, grabbing his wrists and moving them away before he could continue.

"i'm fine," you choke out, wiping the tears from your face. "it's you i'm worried about,"

his expression falls. you sniffle as you reach for the gauze on the counter, unrolling it a generous amount.

"it's just- just- why would you do that?" you mumble between quiet sobs. "you can't do that. you scared me, toge"

you're avoiding his eyes again, but he's staring at you with concern flooding his lavender eyes.

tears still fall off your lashes as you gingerly wrap the gauze around his arm. you've probably overdone it, but as the thought crosses your mind you give it two more loops, just to be secure.

when you're done, his hand catches yours again. you don't look at him. you shut your eyes and hang your head, wishing you had a stronger resolve than you did. you're still angry, but it's starting to melt into something else as reality settles in. had things gone worse... you don't want to think about it.

toge's other hand touches your chin, barely, but enough that you get the idea, and you look up at him again.

i'm sorry, he mouths the words out slowly so that he's sure you understood. you sigh, your shoulders falling heavy.

then he points to the bandage you'd applied, and you follow his gesture as he brings his finger to your clavicle, staring at you ardently, needing you to understand what he was trying to communicate.

for good measure, he drags the tip of his finger across the base of your neck, and then points again to the wound on his arm, and at you.

you sigh, shaking your head at his rough explanation. you pull his hand down away from you.

"that wouldn't have happened," you say quietly. "i had that under control, neither one of us would have"

"ikura" it's a curse, likely him calling bullshit. he tilts his head at you, staring at you with an expression you couldn't read as easily as you usually could.

"i'm sorry for yelling," you mumble. "i was just worried, that's all"

he gives you a small smile before shrugging his shoulders and shaking your head, likely trying to tell you he's fine. you huff, knowing fully well he was going to have a long night of pain and discomfort ahead of him still.

"salmon" he says with a reassuring smile.

you wince back at him.

he tugged on your hand, gently, but enough to make you shuffle forward. your face felt warmer the closer he drew you, pulling again and again until you're as close as he wanted you to be. your eyes are wide as they land on his, silently asking what he was doing, what he wanted.

his lips pull wider into a proper smile, and your gaze falls to the way a dimple forms in the center of the mark on his cheek. you have the urge to reach up and poke it, but you don't. there's a bruise that blooms too close to the spot, and you don't want to be the cause of anymore aching.

his fingertips touch your chin again, tilting your head until your eyes meet his again. you look forlorn, like you have a deep regret. he frowns at you as his index finger hooks under your chin.

"does it hurt?" you murmur quietly as your fingers tremble over his jaw.

toge shakes his head, a bold lie, everything hurts, but nothing about you could ever inflict pain on him.

he convinces you of this when he leans forward, only needing to move a small amount in order to touch his lips to yours.

you startle, remaining perfectly frozen before him at the new sensation. you and toge had always been very close, but you weren't kiss-each-other close. this was completely new, and unforeseen.

your eyes are still wide open when he pulls back all too soon, leaving the kiss chaste, and your lips tingling with the desire for more. even in that small, quick kiss, you understood him.

he gives you a small smile when he looks at you, as if cheekily asking if that made up for the stress he'd put you through tonight.

but you're already leaning back in, eyes falling shut this time as you slant your lips over his as though this wasn't a completely earth-shattering experience. he's still smiling against your mouth as you kiss him eagerly, trying to pour every last ounce of love and concern from your mouth into his.

your movements are gentle as you rest your hands over his shoulders, barely applying any pressure, too worried you'd catch a scrape or bruise in an unpleasant way. it makes your rushed series of kisses soft and sweet, but still you're breathing heavily by the time you pull away again, your forehead resting against his.

you'll scold him again later for being reckless. but for now you could share sweet smiles and sweeter kisses in between whispered confessions of fondness. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

Wet Beast Wednesday: walrus

There are a lot of iconic arctic animals, such as the polar bear and narwhal, but my personal favorite is the walrus. Known for their large tusks, prominent whiskers, and habit for busting myths creepy eyes, walruses are unique amongst the pinnipeds. Most people know of the two main groups of pinnipeds: Phocidae, the earless or true seals and Otariidae, the fur seals and sea lions. Walruses however are in a class of their own, being the only surviving species of their own family: Odobenidae. A weird fact that I learned researching for this is that taxonoimists used to think Odobenids evolved from bears before later reclassifying them alongside the other pinnipeds. Old-timey taxonomy was wild and came up with some absolutely unhinged ideas. Like they used to think that microbats and megabats weren't related, instead classifying megabats as primates.

(image; a walrus sitting on an ice flow. It is a large, brown mammals with short limbs that end in flippers. Its head has a wide, blunt snout and two long tusks emerging from the upper jaw)

There is one species of walrus, Odobenus rosmarus, divided into two subspecies based on location: the Atlantic walrus (O. r. rosmarus) and Pacific walrus (O. r. divergens). The two subspecies are still very similar and genetic testing indicates they diverged between 750,000 and 500,000 years ago. There used to be a third listed subspecies from the Laptev sea, O. r. laptevi, but they have since been reclassified as a population of the Pacific walrus. Walruses are very large, being the third largest pinnipeds after the two elephant seal species. The Pacific subspecies is larger than their Atlantic brethren with most males reaching an average weight between 800 and 1,700 kg (1,800 to 3,700 lbs). A few males have been known to grow considerably larger than average. Male Atlantic walruses average about 900 kg (2,200 lbs). In both subspecies, females are about 2/3 the size of males and have shorter tusks. a large portion of their weight comes from the thick layer of blubber under their skin that helps them stay warm. Both subspecies have an average length between 2.2 and 3.6 meters (7.4 to 11.8 ft). Walruses have hind flippers that can turn forward to act like feet, letting them crawl on all fours like sea lions. Like true seals, they have no external ears. The skin is very thick and mostly bald. They are born with brown skin that becomes lighter as they age. While swimming, the blood vessels in the skin construct to reduce blood flow and limit heat loss, which makes them considerably lighter, almost white. Males have skin nodules called bossed around the neck and shoulders. Their creepy eyes are the result of eye sockets with no roof and powerful extraocular muscles that let the eyes protrude out of the skull and look both forward and sideways. The famous mustaches are composed of 400-700 thick whiskers. The whiskers are attached to muscles and have both nerve ending and blood supply. They are incredibly sensitive sense organs and a walrus can identify objects as small as 2mm with its whiskers. Their lips are muscular and flexible and aid in creating a large variety of noises.

(image: a close-up of a walrus's face, showing its prominent whiskers and small eyes. Its mouth is open, revealing its tongue)

How come the walrus can whistle but I can't? (video: a walrus in a zoo being instructed by its handler to make multiple vocalizations)

Of course the most famous features of walruses are their tusks. These two large canines can reach a meter in length and are larger in males than females. The tusks have a number of uses in both sexes, though males use them more. In both sexes, they are used to help dig breathing holes in sea ice, hang onto ice and help the walrus climb out of the water. Males also use their tusks in displays of dominance, especially during mating season. Larger tusks are a sign of dominance and typically the walrus with the largest tusks will win standoffs. If a standoff escalates from posturing to a fight, they will use their tusks as weapons. They tend to strike around the neck and shoulders and the skin nodules in those areas help protect males from each other's tusks. It was formerly believed that walruses would use their tusks to dig for prey on the sea floor, but this is no longer believed to be the case.

(image: a walrus skull showing the tusks)

(image: a walrus using its tusks to hang onto the ice and keep its nostrils above the water)

Walruses spend a lot of their time searching for the food they need to support a body that big. They prefer forging along the continental shelf and spend much more time in shallow water than other pinnipeds. While walruses have been tracked diving 500 meters deep, the majority of dives are much more shallow. The vast majority of a walrus's diet consists of seafloor-dwelling invertebrates including tubeworms, soft corals, tunicates, crabs and shrimp, sea cucumbers, and mollusks. While that's a wide palette, their absolute favorite food is clams. To hunt, walruses drag their noses and the forward surface of their tusks through the sediment and use their whiskers to search for food. This stirs up the sediment and releases nutrients back into the water column, a process balled bioturbation. Many foods can be swallowed whole or chewed, but they have a special feeding style for clams and other bivalves. Walruses will hold the bivalve in their mouths and use their flexible lips to form a water-tight seal around it. It then withdraws its tongue into its mouth to create enough suction to suck the bivalve meat right out of the shell. So important is this strategy to feeding that the shape of their mouths is specially adapted to it. Walruses are also known to feed on seals, though how much of that is due to hunting or scavenging is unknown. Additionally, they will scavenge whales, may hunt walrus trapped under sea ice, and have been seen catching and eating birds.

(image: a walrus foraging for food underwater. It has its snout pressed into the sea floor and is kicking up a large amount of sediment. Still from a National Geographic video)

Walruses are social and migratory, traveling south for the winter and north for the summer in aggregations that can be tens of thousands strong. They will haul out onto land or sea ice in huge numbers, blanketing the landscape in blubber and tusks. While these aggregations are preferred, they are not considered a true social species as they do not aid each other when together. Walruses on land or ice are skittish and will spook easily. Being startled can lead to stampedes while the walruses flee back to sea. Sometimes, walruses will be trampled to death during these stampedes. During mating season, the normally cordial walruses become much less friendly to their neighbors. Breeding seasons lasts from January to March. During this time, males will gather in the water around females in heat and compete for the change to get to that nice walrussy (I will not apologize). This is usually done via bellowing and posturing with the tusks, but may escalate to fights. While males become sexually mature around age 7, they often do not become large and strong enough to secure mates until around age 15. Females become sexually mature between 4 and 6 years old. Curiously, females enter heat twice per year, but males are only fertile once per year. Gestation takes up to 16 months and calves are born able to swim and weighing up to 75 kg (165 lbs). Females with calves move away from the large aggregations, possibly to keep their calves from being crushed in stampedes and possibly to make it harder for predators to detect their scent. Nursing lasts for over a year, longer than in many pinnipeds. Walrus milk is fattier than that of land mammals, but less fatty than that of true seals, forcing walrus mother to nurse longer. Even after being weaned, walruses may spend up to 5 years with their mothers. Females only mate at most every two years, which gives the walrus the lowest reproduction rate of all pinnipeds. Walruses can live up to 30 years in the wild and 40 years in captivity. Male walruses have the largest penis bone of any non-cetacean both in absolute size and proportionately.

(image an aerial shot of a walrus herd on land. There are many walruses and they are so tightly packed together that no ground is visible)

"Don't talk to me or my son ever again" (image: a mother walrus with its calf. The calf is a smaller version of the mother with no tusks. The calf is sittting by its mother's side. Both are looking at the camers)

Walruses have been hunted by humans living in the arctic circle for millennia. Hunting peaked in 18th and 19th centuries when there was a high commercial demand for meat, blubber, skin, and ivory. This almost led to the extirpation of Atlantic walruses. Since then, hunting has been outlawed except by indigenous peoples, allowing the populations to recover. Now, the major threat to walruses is climate change leading to loss of sea ice needed for hauling out and breeding. The IUCN lists both subspecies as Vulnerable. They were an important source of food and other materials to the peoples of the arctic circle and appear frequently in the mythology of said peoples.

(image: a walrus tusk carved with the images of multiple fish, seals, and polar bears)

Since the founding of the state of Israel, the Zionist movement has positioned the domination and oppression of Palestinians and the colonization of Palestinian land as the answer to the very real question of Jewish safety. They have taken the very real pain and trauma that we as Jews carry and sharpened it into a deadly weapon. We desperately must understand that what is happening is not a cycle of violence. It is a system of violence. Everyone is caught in its teeth. It is the system of settler colonial apartheid that the Israeli government has built and maintained over the past seventy-five years—with billions upon billions of dollars from the United States. Settler colonialism is a structure, a language, a culture, an ideology—an interlocking, totalizing, system of violence. It is a machine of war and dehumanization against Palestinians. It is this system that imperils the lives and safety of everyone. While the vast majority of the violence of the apartheid regime lands on Palestinians, there is no safety for Israelis in a system rooted in such dehumanization and oppression. In the words of Holocaust survivor Hajo Meyer, “My great lesson from Auschwitz is: whoever wants to dehumanize any other must first be dehumanized himself. The oppressors are no longer really human, whatever uniform they wear.” The Israeli government has lost any semblance of humanity as they wage a genocide against the people living in Gaza. It is not Palestinians who have chosen the language of violence for this land. It is the Israeli government and the United States government that have created a state of violence. Palestinians have remained steadfast in seeking freedom against immeasurable violence. Tens of thousands of Palestinians protested in weekly grassroots nonviolent protests at Israel’s militarized border wall around Gaza during the Great March of Return in 2019, and the Israeli government sent military snipers to murder and maim hundreds of children, women, medics, and journalists. Palestinians launch boycott campaigns to win their rights, and the Israeli government opens an entire new ministry to combat the nonviolent movement. Palestinians work at human rights organizations to document the crimes against them, and they are called and treated as terrorists. Palestinians speak the language of freedom, and the Israeli government responds—every single time—with the language of violence. The United States government has united to fully support the Israeli war machine. Already the United States sends more than $3 billion in aid to Israel every year. Now Senator Lindsey Graham said, “I am with Israel. Do whatever the hell you have to do to defend yourself. Level the place.” Make no mistake: Israel isn’t defending itself, it is committing mass murder. Biden says, “We’ll make sure Israel has what it needs to take care of itself.” Make no mistake: Israel is waging genocide. My dear ones in Palestine are saying that they have never experienced such destruction in seventy-five years of occupation. My dear ones are saying there is not a moment to wait. Do not sit back while Israel carries out a genocide fully enabled by the United States. Bring your full body, your spirit, your communities, your humanity, to meet this moment, to call your representatives, to the streets. “Never again” means standing up for Palestinian people. “Never again” means this very moment.

— Stefanie Fox, A Jewish Plea: Stand Up to Israel’s Act of Genocide, as featured in Boston Review

Ayo it's Gortash-conspiracy time, gather around.

Because this note you'll find outside the Zhentarim outpost at Waukeen's Rest is INTERESTING and led me down a rabbit hole. Uktar wrote a report for Keene about the upstart arms dealer Gortash and how he took over and replaced the existing networks. This is juicy for two reasons.

First, the Knights of the Shield. I had no clue who they were so I googled them, and hey, no biggie, it's only an organization that's been around for a THOUSAND YEARS, with a secret service leadership commited to the tenth (yes, you read that right) archdevil Gargauth (who was one of his enemies? You guessed it: Bane).

They were information brokers and political agents with a merchant front. And Gortash just annexed them. Took over their operations. Replaced them. The mind of this man. It really is no joke when everyone in-game talks about what a genius he is, because that type of shit requires not only planning, but a delicate hand to execute. It requires leadership and running a tight ship, and boy, do I find this interesting.

But second, and we already knew this but it hits me once again, the Zhentarim. Their leaders were associated Bane at some point but turned over to Cyric over history as well, with worshippers of Bane and Cyric in general being claimed by the other each time one of them was dealt a destabilizing blow. In consequence, the Zhentarim are listed as amongst the enemies of Bane.

Now to the tinfoil hat section of this. Unfortunately we have no date to this report, so it's hard to judge when Gortash started this. But I find it interesting how this all leads back to Bane again and again, how Gortash seems to wipe out organizations affiliated with Bane's foes. And it leaves me wondering, yet again, when exactly he got recruited or devoted himself to Bane. Was it during that time, when he wiped out those enemies and Bane took an interest in him? Or was that merely a test he had to pass to become the edict of Bane?

But then I'm also confused by Gortash's methods. Bane seems more tyrannical to me, whereas Gortash supplanted the networks. A tyrant might have made them grovel before him. Might have sowed fear and doubt and hate. Here, instead, Gortash just spins up his own operation. And he keeps doing that: He postures as this underdog noble man who worked his way to the top, he has this front, this act of being the hero (he even says so to Ketheric!). Being a hero is hardly something associated with outright tyranny, which would be Bane's classic modus operandi. Don't forget that it's not only about tyranny, it's also about fear and hate. Would you fear or hate your hero, your savior?

Do you know, however, whose modus operandi it would be to pose as a hero, only to dominate in the end? To infiltrate his oldest foe's followers, pose as his chosen one, only to subjugate them?

Cyric's.

He was "the god of lies, trickery, and strife, having previously held dominion over tyranny, murder, lies, intrigue, and illusion." His beef with Bane goes way back, so much so, that Cyric claims to have killed Bane before (oh, and he also killed Bhaal). He ascended to godhood as an exception granted by Ao, and took on all followers of (get this) Bhaal, Myrkul, and Bane. Now I'm aware I am fully in crackpot theory land. But how sweet would it have been if Gortash had actually been a follower of Cyric, not Bane; using the Bane-worship as a front.

It would explain why he's so ready to share his power with Tav/Durge (a true tyrant would never share power so easily – which is why I also think that if Gortash was actually a follower of Bane, he was trying to use Bane to his own advantage, which didn't really work out for him).

And Bane seems to have been skeptical of Gortash as well: He doesn't come to his aid in the fight against Tav/Durge, not even against the Netherbrain. Which is particularly juicy because Bane had the power to protect his chosen ones from psionic powers. (Yes. lol. Really) So if you take Gortash to the Netherbrain and the brain kills him with a thought, Bane could have protected him. And chose not to. Motherfucker

I know, this theory with Cyric has more holes than a Swiss cheese though, I'm fully aware, and I'm still learning the lore, so feel free to correct me. But it's fun to think about.

Anyway. Someone please release me from the chokehold this man has one me.