#calling this
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Moonlight
Been thinking of an au where Sans is a banished moon god and you’re the daughter of The Sun, in the form of Sunlight. You’re one of many, but you’re the only one who dared to visit the moon god…
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A lone twinkling light floats over the night sky, like a space firefly. Your silken dress trails behind you, catching your light, like a flickering flame.
You left the earth at sundown, along with your many sisters. But this was unlike your usual travels- you weren’t with your sisters. It feels weird, the sky feels empty without them. You should’ve gone with them, to go home towards the sun, your mother. Instead… you were flying in the earth’s shadow, towards the darkened moon.
You don’t know how it happened, it just… did. Maybe because as the sun started to set and you looked up at the stars, they remembered about the moon, his myths and legends.
“They said he tried to destroy the earth, once.” Loni said. “He failed and fled to the moon.”
“They said he hates life… he hates the ring of gods, at the very least.”
“Do you think he’s even real…?” Thea wondered, prompting the rest of them to look at her.
“Thea!” One of them cried. “Of course he’s real!”
“How do you know?” She prompted. “Have you ever seen a depiction of The moon? I bet the humans don’t even know he exists.”
“But-”
“Have you ever seen him directly?”
“...”
No one has seen the moon in eons. Persumably since he was banished.
“No one can go to the moon… of course we’ve never seen him.”
“They said mother chained him thousands and thousands of years ago. If he could escape, I bet we’d have seen him.”
“... Would you go to the moon to see him?”
The rest of the girls get a giddy look on their faces when Thea’s expression sours a little. She doesn’t say anything.
You look up at the darkening sky as your other sisters leave earth.
“... I would.”
Everyone’s head snapped to look at you. You’d stayed quiet during the entire conversation, you bet most had forgotten you were there as well.
“(Y/n)?? Really?!”
They sounded scandalous.
“I want to know.” You said simply.
“You want to go there?” Loni grimaces. “No way… that’s so scary… and it’s forbidden... are you sure you want to?”
“Yeah. I’ll go alone.”
Their jaws collectively drop. As you ascend into the sky, the look on their faces tell you that they know they should stop you, but they don’t. Like children who’s seeing a big no-no but want to know what happens anyway.
You just wanted to know. It was a good question. Presumably the last being to see The Moon was your mother. The other gods literally wouldn’t touch it.
Just a little peek. Then you’ll leave.
The distant stars are your only company. You don’t think you’ve been without your mother’s light for a long time. Or alone, for the matter.
Before long, you’ve arrived on the moon.
The dust poofs away when your feet touch the ground. Almost immediately you realize that it’s… too quiet.
In the sky it was quiet but serene. Here, it felt… dead. The moon was gray, dull. Barren and devoid of life. It was nothing like earth (which was basically your second home), bustling and loud. Even when you stood alone in fields of grass, the wind was there to accompany you. There was just… nothing, here.
Your mother’s light doesn’t reach here, in the shadows. It was just you.
The only sound was your footsteps on the lunar surface. You didn’t really know where you were going, but you could see something that looked like a temple in the distance. You’ve seen plenty of temples on earth, mostly dedicated to your mother. You’ve seen temples for the other gods too, and even a shrine for the sun’s daughters. But… you’ve never seen this one. It looks, fittingly, like no one’s been here for centuries, thousands of years even. There’s a symbol on it… a sphere with an arc in it.
You’re very confident that’s where you’re heading.
Entering it, you have an unshakable feeling that you’re not supposed to be here. You know that already, but now it feels like your body is screaming at you to run out. It’s somehow even quieter in here than it was outside- like doors and windows were just shut on you, the air being sucked out.
The temple would have been completely dark if it wasn’t for you. Where your light falls short, was a black void.
You couldn’t deny it, you were shaking. Your fingers trembled, your legs felt weak. You took in a slow, shuddering breath.
Even if he’s here… and the pit in your stomach is telling you that he is, he’s chained. Otherwise he’d already be running amok. Mother would know.
The temple itself wasn’t very large (and you wondered what it’d be used for if it wasn’t for the moon god’s rampage), and it didn’t take long before you’ve descended into a spacious room with some grim looking prison bars. You could hear your heart, it was so quiet.
Just a little bit ahead of you, on the far wall beyond the bars, you saw a hunched figure on the floor. You could barely see him, thanks to your light (which was dimmer, on account of the fear the moon struck).
You hold your breath- the figure moved. He wore a dark gray cloak that draped over him, keeping his face in the shadows. The shadows around your light cut deep. A chill runs over your spine when you see a skeletal hand extend out of the robe, touching your light.
It was like seeing a ghost.
He turned his hand over, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A hoarse voice, marred from years of being unused, calls out.
“... sun…?”
He sounds… slightly… irate.
You make a small gasp when two sharp, unkind glowing eyes looked at you from under the hood.
Then… you see a wide grin stretch out on his face, illuminated by your light.
“oooh….” He drawls, “what do we have here?”
His voice was dark and ancient. It somewhat resembled the voice of the ‘big’ gods- distorted. It sounds as if he’s whispering to you, yet you could feel the power in his voice hitting you like a hurricane wind.
You were stuck- frozen. Watching the moon god of myths turn to look at you better.
“hello there, child of sun.” He greets you with what you feel like is faux hospitality.
He was waiting for a response.
“H…. hello there, Moon,” you reply with as much respectful reverence as possible, bowing to him. He looks smugly pleased with your behavior.
“very good… what is your name, little light?”
You wanted nothing more than to flee. But you had a sneaking suspicion that doing so might give banished god a grudge on you.
“I-” your voice cracked. “I’m (Y/n).”
You sounded braver on the second try. You’re sure you look much braver than you are.
The god acknowledges you. “welcome, (y/n). let me introduce yourself- i’m sure i don’t need to tell you who i am… i hope?”
That was a rhetorical question if you ever heard one. Hastily, you shook your head.
“good… but i’m sure your dear mother wouldn’t want anyone to know my name. oh, she’s tried so hard to forget me…” he chuckles bitterly. “so let me introduce myself. my name is sans.
“so, (y/n).” Sans uttered. “what brings you here, to my lowly prison… one which was once my domain?”
“Uh…”
“did your mother send you? to check on this miserable joke of a god? shackled to his supposed land of power?”
His grin was becoming sharper and his voice started to get louder. You had to reassure- no, diffuse him.
“N-no, Moon Sans.”
He seems almost surprise to hear you say his name, enough that he temporarily forgets his anger.
“... i haven’t heard anyone use that name in years…”
His grin had fallen a little.
You look innocently at him. “That is what people call you, right..?”
His expression darkens. “that is my name, but… no.”
“they call me the ‘one cast in darkness’. ‘banished brother’. the ‘dark one’. … feh. the one’s in the light love to… throw shade. the ones i called my brethren. they can’t even look at me… they threw me in here and never looked back. ” He spits.
“so… what brought a sweet little drop of sunlight to the barren moon, hm?”
The way his voice switched from dripping with poison to dripping with honey unnerved you.
“did you come to see this hideous face?”
You almost reactively take a step back when the god leans forward, more of his face revealed in the light. Part of you were expecting it, but you’ve only heard of sparse descriptions of the moon god. When you saw his skeletal face, his eyelights set in midnight black sockets, it took everything in you to keep your face neutral, lest you offended the god.
You gulped. If his temper was as famous as his stories were (and you were sure you saw his fuse ignite), would he be upset with your answer?
“N… no.” You wouldn’t call him hideous. You’ve just never seen a god that looked like him before. “I… I wanted to see if you were real.”
A flash of red on his face.
“hahahahah!” He bellowed suddenly, harshly. “of course. i’m sure i’m just a forgotten myth by now, aren’t i? no one’s visited here since your wretched mother-” You flinched, “-chained me here, left me to rot. they all did. the joke is on them… i won’t fade away like they hoped- prayed i would. one day the light will die and i’ll be there to make them pay.”
A growl rips out of his throat at his last words- you couldn’t help it, you squeaked. The banished god’s eyes snapped to look at you, the snarl on his face turning back to a smile that was too soft after his burst if anger.
“oh…. you poor thing…” Sans coos. It was like his voice was caressing you in the worst ways. “i’m sorry, did i scare you? little light… you don’t deserve my ire, you had nothing to do with my entrapment.”
You’re clutching onto your scarf, enough so that you feel like it would rip. You’re quite surprised, actually- you were sure the moon god would have such a deep grudge for your mother that he’d hate her daughters just as much, but… no. You didn’t know how to feel about the moon god’s concern for you. Having his attention felt like a horribly bad thing.
The god brings a skeletal finger to his face, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “you’re a brave one, aren’t you?” he acknowledged, “bravery… or ignorance. not even the big gods have dared come near my moon. they know what i’m capable of.”
Instantly you find yourself looking down- you let out a quiet sigh. Your light illuminates his chains, glinting whenever you move. It must be your mother’s magic reacting to your sunlight, because it wasn’t just reflecting the light, it was glowing ever so softly. It looked ancient… old, but not rusted. You felt like you were looking at living history. Just like your sisters, to you, it felt like the story of the moon god was stuck in a fairytale. That he was the villain of a story that was just that- a story. Yet here you were, looking at him in his prison, the chains your mother put on him still brilliant for its age. Two were shackled to his wrists and two more went under his robe to his feet.
Despite that and the sturdy bars between you and him… it felt like you were the one who was cornered and trapped with him.
The moon was undoubtedly still his dominion.
His chains clink quietly as he shifted.
“come closer, starlight…” Sans beckoned, “i want to see you better. i haven’t felt sunlight in thousands of years. i may despise your mother but… oh, to see light…”
You hadn’t realized how far you’d gotten yourself from the bars, almost at the opposite wall to Sans’. You hd no desire to come close to this prison of doom but- you do.
You walk halfway towards the bars.
“closer, closer…”
You walk a little bit forwards.
“please, sunlight… i haven’t seen the light in so long. i want to see your brilliance…”
You’ve come as close as you could, just in front of the bars. The closer you got to the bars, the sharper the shadows looked. A chill fell over you- it felt like his prison was a dark hole that threatened to suck you in.
He smile was too wide-
A flash of movement, a roar. He was right in your face, four sets of claws outstretched before you, so close to your light you could see every detail in his horrifying expression, his bared fangs, the wild look in his eyes.
You screamed louder than you’ve ever screamed, your light flashing, staggering backwards. The chains shone- screeching and straining against the god- he falls short of touching you, collapsing to the ground.
“AHAHAHAHAH!” The moon god laughs cruelly, the sound the embodiment of evil. It’s depth shook the entire building- no, it was shaking the entire moon.
You’re on the floor, gasping greedily, looking like a fish that had just been unceremoniously dumped on land, your divine soul threatening to fly out of your chest. Your light flickers as you get dimmer than before, the darkness around Sans threatening to devour you.
You were about to cry.
Sans’ violent laughs started to quiet, eventually shifting into a satisfied sigh. This close, you could see him in more detail- his robe was gray, with the same symbol on his temple pinning it on his chest. You could see how your light flickered over his bones, his face.
He had four arms, two of which had been hidden under his robe. Unchained, they reached beyond the bars just shy of touching you.
“aw…. you’re adorable.” Sans growls. You watch in horror as a glowing silver tongue slithers out of his mouth, licking his fangs. He’s staring at you intently, a predator excited to see prey. “had you not stumble i would’ve had you against these bars…”
You look at his second set of hands. His claws reach out for you and you shuffle back, Sans following with another low laugh. It felt like those chains weren’t going to hold against him, that they were going to shatter any second now. That he’d bend the bars apart and bite you.
“oh…. lighten up, starlight.” He chuckles, as if he hadn’t just scared you half to death. His sockets crinkled, eyelights shining with a dark ‘pupil’ in the middle. They shifted ever so slightly over you.
“you must know that it’s so boring here, all alone in this pitiful cell,” He groans, throwing his head back in dismay, “i’ve been desperate to have someone to play with… and you look like a sweet little treat.”
You use your scarf to cover yourself more, becoming more and more convinced that maybe the moon god actually wants to eat you from the way he’s staring.
“i’m impressed… you haven’t run away,” He props his head up with one of his unchained hands. “why haven’t you?”
It was a genuine question. You looked at his room from top to bottom.
“There’s bars… and chains.” You say, trying to convince yourself that you were perfectly safe here.
“hm…” his other unchained hand was tapping the floor as he thought for a moment. “are you sure they’ll hold?”
“...” You weren’t convinced.
“heh… smart girl.”
His second set of arms moved again, reaching for the bars-
Ok. It was time to leave, right now.
“Th-thank you for your time, Moon god Sans,” you say hastily, standing up and dusting yourself off. “It’s been an honor to meet you. I see you are much more powerful than you already seemed in the stories. I must go home now, so… goodbye.”
You ran your mouth. Usually you’d leave a god with a bow or at most a word of praise. But that was when you were there with your sisters and your mother, with a god that didn’t have such a terrifying reputation.
You bowed as lowly as you could, pulling your scarves to the side. You didn’t want to look at him, disguised as looking at the floor. You wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, so you turned around on your heel towards the stairs-
“wait.”
Oh mother’s storm.
“please, starlight… won’t you come back? i’m so lonely…”
You looked behind you. He was as close as he could be to the bars, in sitting position like when he was against the wall. His eyes shone brilliantly. This… powerful, dak god… was pleading to you.
You don’t know how to feel about it. You look back at him sparingly, biting your lip.
“... if you do…” Sans says after you’re silent for a little longer, “could you… bring me some snacks?”
That makes you go huh? softly.
“something sweet preferably. like a cake.”
You’re on the fence of responding. You couldn’t just say ‘I never want to come back here because I think I’d die of fright first before I could humor you.’
“I… I’ll think about it.” is what you instead settled on.
Finally, you allowed yourself to climb up the stairs, starting to run as soon as you’re out of his eyesight, flying as fast as you could home.
…
…
…
“... my. what a delicious little thing…”
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When I think about Steve Harrington and I try to think about like, his One True Skill, or his Vocation, or the Thing He’s Meant to Be Doing, like we like to do for characters sometimes, I’m always stumped. Like oh, he’d be a great kindergarten teacher, or he’d own a diner or he would be good at art… like everyone has this one ideal career path or whatever.
But I look at Steve Harrington and I see Jerry Gergich.
Hear me out. Guy’s got a 9 to 5 job, Monday to Friday, never stays late, never works weekends. Has benefits he can add his family to, steady paycheck. Paid vacation days. Wakes up at the same time everyday to make his family breakfast, gets out of work in time to help the kids with homework and make them dinner.
So Steve can sit at his desk at work and sign his forms and schedule the park activities and listen to people complain about getting sick after drinking water from the sprinklers, then he clocks out at five pm.
He takes the lunch he packed and drives to the garage where Billy’s waiting with a matching bag, and they eat together at one of the parks he wrangled the budget for because he’s a Harrington and he’s still a bit of a bitch and he can argue with the mayor until the man sweats through his shirt, and it’s not fair the children on Hawkins don’t have anywhere safe to play after the town’s been through so much. Billy laughs at stories about Steve’s coworkers and at the guy who got stuck in the playground equipment, and tells Steve about the cars he’s working on that day.
After work, Steve swings by the grocery store and picks up the milk they ran out of that morning, grape juice for Billy and this and that for dinner, and he goes home to the little house he shares with Billy. He’s almost done with the food by the time Billy gets home.
Billy hovers around Steve while he cooks, distracts him with kisses and squeezes and by stealing food before it’s done, and this is the center of Steve’s life, this is his Grand Life Aspiration.
Not a career or a huge job, but a job he can leave behind and not think about once he crosses over the threshold of his home, and that will never keep him from this, from his family. From Billy.
(His boss is still played by Nick Offerman)
#calling this#parks and rec!steve#call this a modern au if you like#wrote this quickly before bed#just some thoughts#harringrove#it’s more about Steve but I didn’t want billy antis to hijack it so I made it harringrove :)#Steve Harrington#sorcery writes#mine#billy x steve
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When you act cool until he's not looking then you squee like a little kid as you watch him dance but it's okay because nobody saw.
... spoiler, Bomba saw.
(Xavier Pellin as Mistoffelees, Fletcher Dobinson as Alonzo, and Suzie Melloy as Bombalurina; Asia tour, 25/11/2020)
#201125#2020 asia tour#s: bows#calling this#alonzoffelees#because i can#mistoffelees#bombalurina#c: alonzo#c: mistoffelees#c: bombalurina#alonzoxmistoffelees#suzie melloy#xavier pellin#fletcher dobinson
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I saw this going around another fandom and I'm absolutely obsessed with the concept so if you don't mind, please share a summary of a fic you'll never write? Whether because it's too silly, too dark, too complicated, too boring... just share some details please!
your timing is really funny, anon, because i actually woke up this morning thinking about a particular idea i've had for a while and won't ever write! but the whole reason i won't write it is because it's quite dark (the consent is...dubious to non-existent) and i'm squeamish about sharing that in a public forum.
so instead, how about an idea that i won't write because it'd be too much effort?
picture this: tim's role as robin really is temporary. he pulls bruce back onto the path of righteousness (or at least the path of "not hospitalizing petty thieves"), arranges a reconciliation between bruce and dick, and, once he's convinced that bruce is 1. stable and 2. as happy as he can be, he quits. back to his normal life.
now, obviously bruce, dick, and alfred don't just FORGET about him, but they're busy and he's busy and there's no longer any reason for tim to be hanging around the manor every day. so they grow apart. not apart enough that bruce stops excessively stalking caring about tim, but enough so that, for instance, no one thinks to tell tim that gotham’s newest crime lord is actually a resurrected jason.
this is relevant because jason knows that a) tim was his replacement and b) his replacement QUIT and is now just some normal civilian. jason finds this highly suspicious and does all the stalking investigating. he’s very skeptical but eventually accepts that yeah, tim really did quit and he really is just...going to college and living a normal life.
BUT jason’s stalking also turns up bruce’s stalking. and knowing that tim is ignorant of the state of things in gotham, but bruce is NOT ignorant of the state of things in tim’s life....well. that gives jason an idea.
namely, he arranges to meet tim in an appropriately casual, non-suspicious way and take advantage of the fact that they’re both sexually active, very attractive young men. so he and tim become fuckbuddies. very lowkey, very casual, just tim working out his stress from classes/parental pressure and jason working out his stress from the absolutely normal non-crime lord job that he totally has.
and then anytime bruce pisses jason off with his judgment/interference/attempts to reconcile, jason goes and rails tim until he cries. it’s very rough and leaves lots of marks so there is no question in any casual stalker’s mind just what tim and jason have been up to. tim loves every second of it because he has his kinks, okay? and jason is very satisfied both sexually and because he knows it’s got to be KILLING bruce that his disappointment of an ex-son is touching the perfect, innocent replacement.
it’s all going well until jason, like a moron, goes and FALLS IN LOVE with tim. which isn’t so bad at first (tim also has feelings! they transition very nicely into actually dating!) until the guilt starts to wear at jason for the false pretenses under which he started their relationship. and eventually he confesses and tim is heartbroken and betrayed and also more than a little overwhelmed that he has been FUCKING HIS CHILDHOOD HERO without knowing it
and eventually they work things out but i don’t really know how. and that’s why i’ll never write that fic lmao
thanks for asking! this was a fun way to start the day! ♡
#anon response#calling this#jaytim fic#even though it's not technically fic but close enough#yasminfic#jaytim
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I have uuuuh, a Pixie Hollow au
Yes, Rex loses his wings in this one, i had to give up for the angst lmao. I'm going to elaborate about this whole thing under the readmore, beware a wall of text
In this au, all the clones are fairies. Jango's magic (the King of Pixie Hollow) is strong enough that all the fairies arriving share a face with him.
Rex is a water talent fairy, and he's the one in charge of the other water talents. Every leader needs to wear a flower skirt with tbe colors of the talent, so that's the why of Rex's wardrobe choices. He's the most powerful water fairy, but that also makes him cry a lot thanks to all the water inside of him
Now, about the mer incident: similarly to the Tinkerbell books, the mers of Never Land got angry at the fairies, which caused the water levels to rise. This is specially dangerous because rivers started to spill and Pixie Hollow is FULL of rivers. They can't get the mers to talk to them, and Jango can't find a way to make negotiations while the mers refuse to get near the surface. Rex takes a decision and, along a group of other water talents, decides to visit the witches or Never Land.
He makes a deal with the witch: he'll give up his wings in exchange of getting the ability to breath underwater. The witch proceeds to cut his wings down to his magic source (the reason why in this au a broken wing can eventually grow again) and gives him a potion, however, because he never specified, the potion given to him would only allow him to breath underwater for 2 hours. Rex lost his wings and the thing he exchanged them to.
Rex is able to calm the mers and things go back to normal. Of course, not having his wings brings a lot of accomodations to him, like changing his clothes to make up for the fact that he has to walk to most places, and dealing with the effects that a lack of wings leave: bad short-term memory, forgetfulness, chronic pain, tiredness, headaches, irritability. He eventually learns to live with all those things, but the lost of his wings never gets easier to accept
#silly au becomes angsty YES#perart#digital art#fanart#star wars#the clone wars#captain rex#calling this#Pixie Hollow au#very original
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What if Virgil had died on the battlefield instead of Orpheus? 👀 w e l l! Thay would be tricky, and would mean the enemy had divine weapons on their side.
And would also lead to Virgil begging Orpheus to take his title and powers, with his last dying breath, because "you are the only one I trust to do this. You're the only one who can-please." Knowing that of he dies with no one to take his place, it'll be catastrophic. And he wishes it didn't have to be like this. He never wanted Orpheus to ascend to godhood like this
Things are... tricky, afterwards. Grief makes things feel like they're moving at a snail's pace. Orpheus spends his time spreading Virgil's message-which soon becomes his own. His way of honoring his lost love.
He doesn't know what he's doing for the longest time, but he can only hope he's making Virgil proud.
As for Virgil, what happens? Does he become reincarnated? Well-in a way. Part of himself is, however, another part is trapped in the divine weapon that killed him. Which now sits in a museum, awaiting the day it's reunited. And it will be. When a visitor is inexplicably drawn to touch it and the entire city is suddenly plunged into darkness
Mortal bodies cannot withstand the soul of a god. Mortal Virgil was born weak with white hair and a birthmark that took up 70% of his body and was often painful to touch. Anyways- his mortal form is completely torn to shreds now, and the poor newly born again god is left frightened in this museum as memories begin to flood back to him
Orpheus is called down to the mortal realm to handle it, darkness being his thing and all
And meanwhile Virgil has reverted back to his once feral state that he had when he first came down to this plane all those years ago. It ah, takes a lot of time to get him to calm down. And it takes Janus seeing him to recognize that it's their Virgil. Which is, ah, very emotional. And Virgil is overwhelmed because he just lived through millennias of memories in the span of a day
And where is Remus, if Orpheus never died and was never reincarnated? Well, he's still born. With a mortal twin brother. He's less chaotic here, still kooky. And goes by Romulus once his brother passes, to honor him. His brother loved this one creation he did, roses. So Romulus spent much of his time maling more, and all sorts.
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Where did y’all come from??
anyways vote avatrice
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How do you fall in love so easily with things
soft heart deranged brain disorder
#calling this#intro post#anonymous#letterbox#love for you is like a religion#lyrics#tbh this should be pinned it explains everything#about me#i don't think this message was meant as shade but if it was i deserve it i understand lol#goodnight/good morning 💞
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never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱
#was calling beckett and scouring the works of eliza cook looking for lesbianism#good amounts of lesbianism in evidence but unfortunately very little in the way of good poetry#APART from this worm one which DOES NOT MISS#eliza cook#is there a thriving eliza cook tag on tumblr. somehow i doubt it#the hand of the giant and the heart of the brave / must turn weak and submit to the worm and the grave!#not an original theme ofc but GOD the treatment is delightful. so fresh so gleeful some rlly nice use of sound. rlly solidly constructed#words#gay belligerence
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one of the most infuriating things about becoming an adult is when you realize that it actually is 10x easier to solve problems by making a phone call vs literally any other communication method
#I was forced to get over my hatred of making phone calls bc of this#one 15 minute phone call is the equivalent of 5 back and forth emails#also if you don't know exactly what you need help with you can just ask and you can get real help#instead of just desperately clawing at faqs on websites#it's infuriating that it works so well#ramblings
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Sometimes I wish we would start calling out the performative radicalism on this site for the poser bullshit it is. "Remember, it's always morally correct to kill a cop!" "Don't forget to firebomb your local government office!" "Wow, it sure would be a shame if these instructions on how to make a molotov cocktail got spread around!"
Okay. But you're not killing cops or firebombing government offices. You are posting on a dying microblogging website to a carefully-curated echo chamber that has radicalized itself into thinking that taking the absolute most extreme position on any subject is praxis but that anyone discussing the most practical way to effect actual change is your sworn enemy. You do not have the street cred OR the activist cred to be talking about killing cops, babe.
#thinking about the person i saw saying that if you're at a protest#and other protesters try to stop you from becoming violent you should just kill them bc 'peace police are still police'#even taken as hyperbole that's simply dumb as shit on every conceivable level#it's also pretty blatantly hypocritical coming from people who are usually self-avowed prison/death penalty abolitionists#like i'm sorry but you don't get to be a death penalty abolitionist and also call for the death of your political enemies online#this isn't a major issue or anything i'm just bored and annoyed
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i wake up thirsty and i think of palestine. i go to the doctor’s office and i think of palestine. a sign in the corner of the waiting room says ‘this is a place of healing, disruptive behavior will not be tolerated’ and i think of palestine. they probably weren’t thinking of bombs and snipers and mass graves in parking lots. i call my parents and i think of palestine. i drive to the grocery store and i think of palestine. i look at the clear blue sky and i think of palestine. i put the dishes away and i think of palestine. i feed my cat and i think of palestine. i listen to music and i think of palestine. i read poetry and i think of palestine. i text my friends and i think of palestine. i think of palestine and i think of palestine and i think of palestine
#i check the news and there are more olive trees burning i call my reps and my reps don’t answer i am losing my mind#palestine
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do *you* think with your dick?
I think with my packer
#(yes)#(i have actually gotten into the habit of calling my bottom growth a dick/tdick)#(feels validating. especially bc i dont have the money for phallo)#spitblaze says things#ftm#doin numbers
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the men and boys are innocent too.
we cry "the innocent women and children" to appeal to the masses, to try and force their sympathy, but the men and boys are innocent too.
I have seen sons crying out for their mothers, their fathers, their siblings. I have seen them break down at the loss of their families. I have seen them cling to their dead and grieve.
I have seen fathers cradle their dead children, seen them kiss their faces and hold their little hands. I have seen them faint with grief when asked to identify the dead. I have seen them carry their sons and daughters. I have seen them fasting to provide what little they can for their families.
I have seen men and boys digging through the rubble with just their bare hands, I have seen them comforting strangers, playing with children, rocking them, hushing them, even if the face of such imminent danger. I have seen them cry, seen them grieve, seen them break down into each other's arms, seen them be selfless, beyond selfless, becoming something I don't have a word for.
I have seen the men who are doctors refuse to leave their patients, even when they have no medicine or supplies to give them, even when they're threatened with bombings. I have seen fathers who have lost all their children pick orphans up into their arms and proclaim them their child so they are not alone. I have seen men and boys digging pets out of the rubble.
the men are innocent too. the men and boys are being hurt and killed too. the men and boys are grieving too. the men and boys are scared too. the men and boys are fighting to save their people too. the men and boys deserve to be fought for too.
#I don't have words to describe how I feel for the men of Palestine#the things I have seen them do after everything they have been through goes so far beyond selfless#what do you call this? this prevailing goodness and willingness to give everything they have and more? what word even touches it?#I don't think there is one#islamophobia has conditioned us to see these men and boys as evil and dangerous#we see this in how we speak about Palestine#and we need to uncondition ourselves#they're just as innocent and of value and good as the women and children#so fight for them#they don't deserve this any more than the women and children#free palestine#palestine
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Reblogs are off because you people don't realize that a post about gaslighting isn't the time or place for your LOL GONCHEROV XDDSS jokes idk what to tell you. If you find the info the other reblog added to be useful just screenshot it and repost it I'm done though
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how to explain to non-americans that the better call saul ads aren’t exaggerated for comedic effect they are super normie
#better call saul#[name rhyme] did someone hurt you? I’ll kill them. I’ll make them suffer. i’ll burn the world down until we are the last 2 in it#local lawyer tag
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