“Forgive Me, Amy.”

you ever want to punch someone through a podcast

sometimes i think i’m more like vale than i’d like bc i take everything that happens on track personally and will never forget even one slight

“lydia. lydia? lydia. lydia, come on. no, no, no, no, no. come on, lydia. wake up. come on. wake up. can you hear me? lydia. lydia, open your eyes. come on, come on. come on. listen to me, lydia. hey, show me your eyes, okay? lydia, you have to open your eyes.”

Punk Nun

Power bottom nun!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The pretty nun named Wanda ended up with you…

Warnings: no specified gender but reader is AMAB, VERY little plot, mostly smut MINORS DNI, strong language, some angst Ig but hopeful ending.

A/N: I’m back and posting this to proof that visiting Santa Monica Pier at night changes a person lol anyways sorry if it isn’t the best but hope you enjoy it. Also, art not mine so credit to the original artist.

-

Who would have thought?

"I'm eager to see what's under that habit." You eyed up the horny nun as your wish to see her nude body grew more and more with each second, along with the need to touch her.

That pretty innocent-looking nun with short strawberry blonde hair that had crossed a few glances with you on the few times you did attend church would end up in your room—sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at you with lustful eyes.

It happened too fast. You heard a knock on your door, and Wanda stood there, perplexing you. When you thought she would read the Bible to you, she pushed past you with the excuse of wanting to talk to you like you had offered last time. Things went up from there, so you just chalked it up to 'fate.'

A low moan left the nun's mouth, seeing as you removed your black shirt, exposing your bare torso to her. She looked attentively at your body. Looks like your build was eye candy for her.

"I promise to let you touch." You said as Wanda shifted her attention to you. "But for now, you're in my house, so we'll do a ritual." With that, you walked out of the room. The words that had come out of your mouth had only elevated her sensation of need between her legs.

A sin? Yes. An unforgivable one for sure. She had made her vows to the church. But it wasn't her fault. Wanda never wanted to be part of that. Before, she was a typical teen with dreams and aspirations like many others. But one day, her parents told her they had chosen her life path. Why? Because they had some dream that Wanda would become a nexus being that would destroy everything. Pure nonsense, she always thought. Her biggest regret is that she never fought against her parents' decision.

It didn't matter anymore because she was with you now, and no one could stop her.

Wanda removed her loafers before you came back into the room. Carrying a bottle of red wine, you walked towards her and gently laid the bottle on the bed. She couldn't resist having you so close and lifted her hand and ran it over your abdomen. A low gasp left your mouth at her gentle touch.

"Couldn't stop yourself, huh?" You grabbed a part of the fabric of her habit. "Help me a bit." Wanda raised her arms, letting you gently pull it off her, exposing her beautiful body that was only covered by her black panties. Only Wanda's perky tits were exposed but adorned with a silver cross pendant that hung from a matching necklace. From her face down, she was worthy of being described as a goddess.

"The real sin is having you wear this, which doesn't allow me to see such beauty." You lusted, tossing the habit away, and instead reached for her soft breast, caressing them to feel their softness, making her breathing hitched when you rubbed your thumb on her perky tit. "I will have to include this in my thesis now." You teased, squeezing her breast.

"Oh, you're a priest now?" Wanda asked in a challenging tone, pushing your hands off her bust.

Cheeky. Despite not speaking much, Wanda announced she was not as innocent as she looked.

"I ain't no Martin Luther." You grinned, lightly pushing her against the bed and crawling on top of her. "But I'll gladly be your punk monk, my dear punk nun."

You planted your lips on hers as Wanda gave you access to her mouth. She reciprocated, deepening the kiss. Her tongue was swirling with yours. It was noticeable how it wasn't her first "steamy" makeout. How her hands ran from your hair to your back demonstrated how much she wanted this as much as you did. Her soft hands made her touch unique.

You parted your lips from hers and rested them on the tip of her ear.

"I'm going to begin my ritual." A low moan escaped Wanda's mouth, shivering at the feeling of your warm breath next to her ear.

You got off Wanda and kneeled beside her on the bed, grabbing the bottle of wine and opening it quickly. You offered her the bottle first, which she grabbed without hesitation. It was her favorite, after all. The nun took a deep sip of it and handed it back.

She laid back down at your instruction, letting you do as you pleased with her now. You ran your hand through her soft abdomen, preparing to give her the unexpected.

You lifted the wine bottle and tilted it towards her, pouring some of the wine on her belly button. Wanda jolted and let out a high-pitched hiss at the feeling of the cool liquid making contact with her skin.

"It's okay, beauty. You're okay." You comforted the nun. Her glare softened once she heard your words.

When the naughty nun was relaxed again, you lowered your head into her abdomen and sucked the wine that had stained her skin. Some breathy moans left her mouth as you sucked the red wine on her skin, especially at the sensitivity of her stomach. Groans left your mouth at the feeling of her warm skin. You sucked and even licked her skin until there was no trace of any liquid ever being there.

Your hand made contact with her black panties, making your cock twitch when you felt how drenched in her arousal fluids they were. The touch of your fingers on the cotton fabric that separates you from her entrance was enough to make her moan.

"Hurry the fuck up." Wanda cried when you teased her by rubbing your fingers on the fabric.

"What would your fellow sisters say with that vocabulary of yours?" You grabbed her panties from the waist and gently pulled them off her.

"I don't know. You're the one who is said not to worry about what other people say." Wanda raised her legs to assist you in removing her panties.

You passed your fingers on the top of her exposed entrance that was glistening with her wetness. Wanda mouthed a moan. "Nice to know that you do listen to me." You remarked.

Wanda moaned as you rubbed her entrance. "Fuck." She Let out when you started rubbing her clit followed by other curse words. Shaking her legs at the sensation. Her losing control gave you ideas. Without warning, you inserted two fingers into her entrance. Her sudden gasp turned into repeated moans when you started pumping your fingers into her fast. "Just like that." She begged, feeling you increase your pace. "Cum for me, nun." You groaned, feeling her walls tighten around your fingers, followed by a loud moan of hers and then the feeling of her warm fluids coming out of her pussy, getting all over your hand and staining the bed.

You brought your hand up to you and licked off her cum, savoring the taste.

You unbuckle your belt and slide off your jeans, accompanied by your boxers. Finally, let out your hardened cock, twitching at the thought of being inside Wanda.

"Show me how much you wanted this." You lay in the bed, inviting the sex-starved nun to get on top of you. She crawled on top of you, her legs on each side of your thighs. "I'll make you lose control." She smirked, looking down at you. Her confidence in her voice piqued your curiosity and even increased your need for her. "Show, not tell." You countered, also smirking and running your hand through her legs.

Letting out a low moan when you felt her soft hand grabbed your hardened cock and gave it a few slow strokes before aligning it with her entrance. She kept looking down, breathing out moans when she rubbed your tip with her slit and slowly took your whole length. "Ahh." Similar moans and some groans came out of your and Wanda's mouths as she felt your length go deeper while you felt her wet walls around your cock. You melted at the unknown energy she had. Almost as if it was another person.

You were left in a trance as you felt her soft, warm walls surrounding your cock that you overlooked when she bent down to whisper in your ear. "Let me know if you can't handle it." You weren't able to process her words once she started rocking back and forth on your cock at a slow pace to accustom to your size.

"You're a demon in disguise, huh?" You groaned at her sensual actions. Wanda placed her hands on your chest. "Let's find out." She started moving at a faster pace, waves of pleasure going through both your bodies. Wanda whimpered as she repeatedly sank into your cock. The view it gave you was mesmerizing as the way her breasts bounced, which impulsed you into grabbing them again. Kneading and teasing her perked nipples. "Keep going." She encouraged you in a breathy voice, inviting you to do more with her.

Wanting more of her body, your hands left her breast and, out of instinct, reached for her ass and held her with a tight grip stopping her movements.

"You might hurt me," Wanda teased in a raspy voice between breaths, coming to a stop and having an idea of what you were about to do. "Too late to back out now." You stretched her bum a bit before and, with no warning, pumped your cock as deeply as possible into her needy pussy. The noises of your hips hitting hers just right were barely audible as the repeated moans were louder. You continued until another sexy idea popped into your mind.

Out of nowhere, you turned her over and pinned her down on the bed without pulling out of the pretty nun. She yelped at the sudden action and breathed a bit to regain herself. Your eyes locked with hers; she was panting, sweat rolling down her face. Despite your initial thought, she wasn't amused. "You love being deep inside me." She muttered, making you lose any sense of control you had left in you.

You began moving your hips, pushing your cock deep in Wanda as much as you could at a pace that even made the bed creak. Wanda's hands gripped your biceps tightly as you started hitting the right spot. The sound of her moans and skin-to-skin contact pushed you to increase your pace; at the same time, her nails started digging into your skin; you were too lost in the pleasure even to notice it.

The good sensation of her walls clenching on you announced what was coming, so you didn't stop. You wanted to feel every last bit of her like she did of you. Wanda let out a high-pitched moan as you felt her warm juices fall on your cock, announcing her release of pleasure that you had helped build up. You stayed there on top of her, still hard, waiting for her to regain her breath. Needless to say that you were euphoric to release as well, which led you to pull out of her gently, and after giving yourself a few strokes, you reached your high as thick ropes of your cum landed just outside Wanda's entrance and her inner thighs. You Guessed this was the closest to getting to heaven as you can get.

"Fuck.. that was.. was great." Wanda panted, looking up to see you trying to smile while you regained your breath, then gently moved off her to lay beside her. You would follow up on what she said, but she stood up and went to the bathroom. "You alright?" You asked, concerned that you might have hurt her with your roughness. But again, no response from her.

You got up and followed her into the bathroom after sliding on your boxers, where Wanda had gotten one of your towels to clean herself up. You stood there waiting for her to acknowledge you, but she did not react as if you weren't there. You sighed before taking the initiative to break the uncomfortable silence. "Hey." You spoke almost like a middle schooler talking with their crush for the first time.

The nun stopped her actions, looking down after finally acknowledging you. Wanda sighed and looked back up at the mirror in front. "It's just," She gritted her teeth. "Fuck," She muttered, letting the towel hit the floor. "I have to return to my boring life as a nun." Her words expressed impotence and frustration.

You stayed quiet, imagining Wanda's daily torment of being somewhere she didn't want. A literal place that can be a dream killer. Well, you didn't have to. Living in the same old boring town took away your will to live mentally. But it was nothing compared to what Wanda has been through.

"Maybe you don't have to, Wanda," You picked up the towel and put it around Wanda's shoulder to cover her. Your words made her look at you with curiosity and perhaps a bit of hope, which she needed at this time. "Why don't we leave this shitty place together?" You offered, as shock and confusion plastered on her face.

"What do you mean?" She asked, still trying to understand what you had said.

"Fuck whatever we have here. Let's leave somewhere else where we can be ourselves and leave all this behind." You said as you realized what some of her concerns could be. Also, the fact that you barely knew each other. "There is no easy way to explain, but just think about it."

Wanda said nothing but was attentive to your words. She said nothing at first, but the smile that started to creep on her face was enough to confirm that she had already made her decision, and it would be one that would change something for both.

one thing i will forever find funny about the magnus archives is how much of a pretentious academic jon is throughout the entire thing. martin slightly paraphrases a shakespeare quote? unforgivable. don't even get me started on the hungarian mountain man. 'he does know what a book is, right?' you rascal. you pseud. do you even know what a mountain is? thought not.

One of the more esoteric things that I am really really into is reptile eponyms, and since it’s a topic that most people aren’t very familiar with, I want to share just a couple with you:

The skink species Lerista amicorum was discovered and named by a pair of Australian zoologists who are also best friends. The species name is Latin for “of the friends” in honor of their friendship and discovery together

The gecko species Lepidodactylus buleli was named in an article describing the new species in 2006, but nobody knows what the species name “bulel” is referencing. The etymology states “The specific epithet buleli is given by the author as a reference to a personal and private story and has no particular signification related to the species, its characteristics, geographical origin, or biology.” Some sort of scientist inside joke I guess you had to be there

There is a species of death adder with the proposed* name Acanthophis crotalusei which is in honor of the author’s pet dog, Crotalus. In case you didn’t know, Crotalus is the name of a completely different genus of snake, so using it for a death adder is unforgivably confusing. (*There is some very complicated herpetology drama behind this story)

The Martin Garcia least gecko Sphaerodactylus ladae is named in honor of the discoverers rental car, a Russian LADA.

Homies I’m gonna be so real I think a lot of people really miss the point of hotd and got in general. The whole green vs blacks argument feels very akin to the team peeta/team gale phenomenon in the Hunger Games fandom- the very existence of these “teams” in any serious context is a manifestation of the very thing their media is criticizing.

You’re not supposed to be EITHER side in the Dance of Dragons. Spin it any way you want, but as a whole, the entire story is a critique on dynastic monarchy and blood/racial purity in politics. Both Rhaenyra and Aegon II are vying for power to a fundamentally corrupt system that, really, neither of them are entitled to or equipped to have. Dynastic Monarchy Bad, yaknow?

Neither one of them deserve the throne, just like every monarch who inherited their power from their family before them. The Targs in general have a whole lot of Mandate of Heaven/Manifest Destiny/Blood Purity thing going on that Martin is clearly criticizing in the series as a whole.

The point of the Dance of Dragons is that it is the result of two people who both believed that they were, through some law or divinity, The Chosen who deserved power. House Targaryen already had it all, but tore itself apart over their own ideas of prophecy and destiny, Who Deserved It More. There’s a reason neither Rhaenyra or Aegon II end up on the throne, there’s a reason that almost all of the Targs died in the war: it’s a cautionary tale. Through the Dance, Martin is able to criticize both the Valyrian Supremacy ideals of the Targs and the patriarchal governments within Westeros. Monarchy and patriarchy hurt everyone.

I think most fans with media comprehension understand that both sides of the war committed unforgivable atrocities, and both sides experienced unimaginable loss and grief. The irony is, it is almost all self-inflicted. By playing The Game, Rhae, Aegon, and House Targaryen lost everything, and the rest of Westeros was just collateral.

Anyway I don’t wanna see anymore misogynistic bullshit. You can critique the characters without saying the most sexist shit imaginable (this goes for greens and blacks, I’ve seen some truly heinous shit in the trenches). This show is fun and really enjoyable to watch, and I would love to see a fan community that isn’t constantly at each others throats over made up characters in a made up war.

my friend: hey, so how come Hannibal likes Clarice so much?

my other friend: i don't know probably because-

me:

*AHEM* You see, Hannibal respects Clarice because she is different from all of the money-hungry, insatiable male police officers who are after glory- Who get a rise out of saying they spoke to the great Hannibal Lecter while not being actually brave enough to converse with him authentically. They think of him as less than human, and only care about advancement. Because of this, Hannibal has come to know the FBI as a corrupt field full of corrupt officers, therefore he feels no need to give them any respect since they can't even look him in the eye. But then Clarice comes along. Instantly, she gives him respect, calling him "Doctor Lecter," being "courteous and receptive to courtesy". Hannibal is surprised she does not back down, especially since she is a woman in a very masculine career, something he already admires her for. He expects that, after he insults her, she will not come back, just like all the other cops. But she does come back, in the pouring rain, and suddenly his opinion of her soars. Nobody has ever exuded such passion for saving these victims like Clarice before. He offers her his towel, likely one of his only possessions, because he sees her goodness, her intelligence, her drive. He revels in her remarkable frankness and honesty, two things he values very highly. In the very last scene, in Memphis, is when he is truly moved by her person. In the Memphis scene, is when he truly becomes not only interested in her, but admires her deeply. Her emotional retelling of her childhood trauma about saving the lambs is what allows him to understand the goodness of her- She is truly a selfless, caring person in a world so cold and unforgiving. He changes him, and makes him believe in the goodness of humanity. THAT is what he respects about her the most, above her intelligence and respect: That she has a good heart. These lambs are the girls in a metaphorical sense, which is why he asks if saving Catherine will "make the lambs stop screaming." In the last scene, when he says goodbye to her, you can see tears welling up in his eyes. He cries because he sees her goodness, and knows therefore that she will never make it in the corrupt world of the FBI because of her refusal to stoop to unethical means in order to achieve power. This is proven true in the sequels, when Clarice’s career is tarnished because she rejects a sexual advancement made to her by her boss- Paul Krendler. Krendler makes sure after this she always gets the worst assignments and never advances because she refuses to sleep with him. He also believes Starling “robbed him” of the glory of catching Buffalo bill and is jealous that a woman, and a rookie at that, beat him to the punch. In that moment in Memphis, it’s as if Hannibal is able to see into the future, and predict her self-destruction at the hands of the FBI. He cries because he believes this is the last time he will ever see her again. He cries because he knows she is too good for the FBI, and for the patriarchal, corrupt system, yet he knows she will always blame herself for her imminent failure. (Clarice wanted to save Catherine Martin, but the FBI wanted to catch Buffalo Bill.) Her purity is a tragedy in a world so vile. For me, these two quotes from the screenwriter and director put all the underlying messages and dynamic rapport of TSOTL into an fascinating perspective:

“These are two extraordinarily gifted thinkers engaged in a tremendously important conversation. At last, a mind came into his field that was worthy of verbal and mental intercourse. I don’t know that sex has any place in any of this. I mean, yes he’s a man and yes she’s a woman; he’s very handsome and she’s very beautiful, but so what? These are minds at work here. There’s an eroticism in the thought process that transcends any kind of physical eroticism that might be between the two.” - Jonathan Demme (Director)

“The scenes between Lecter and Clarice are basically seduction scenes. They play, oddly enough, as if they were lovers. They only touch one time in the entire movie, in their last scene when he says goodbye to her- when as he hands her back her notes, he touches her finger. And it's almost a shock to the audience, when they touch. But these scenes, you would approach almost as if you were writing a sort of courtship between two lovers." - Ted Tally, Screenwriter.”

Things i can NOT forgive in modern AU bagginshield fics:

Giving thorin short hair

He has long hair in every universe, saying otherwise makes me want to fight and kill

Making them American

I will bite your throat out with my teeth that is not natural nor normal

Giving bilbo different hair

I refuse to imagine this because thats just Martin Freeman and my reaction to seeing him without the bilbo wig, even in my minds eye, is feelings of pure terror and fear

Changing their names

I This is an extremely unforgivable sin, like no they simply live in a world where names like Thorin and Bilbo are normal and not the weirdest shit you have ever heard

US Presidents as Dril Tweets

George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it

John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.

Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts

James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby

James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"

John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit

Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!

Martin Van Buren: Food $200

Data $150

Rent $800

Candles $3,600

Utility $150

someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying

William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good

John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this

James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom

Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying

Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...

Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin

James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...

Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"

Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off

Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT

Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,

James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now

Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark

Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site

Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc

William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!

Theodore Roosevelt: IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL

William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*

Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer

Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me

Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals

Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud

Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe” but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me

Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume

Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed

John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self

Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"

Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls”, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups

Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right

Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again

Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn

George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT

Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,

George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,

Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line

Donald Trump: THERAPIST: your problem is, that youre perfect, and everyone is jealous of your good posts, and that makes you rightfully upset.

ME: I agree

Joe Biden: I will shut the fuck up , IF , it will restore the Harmony. I will get on my knees like a dog and make that sacrifice, for the sake of Calm

(Nov. 4) Resources, Information, & Posts

wanted to make a post collecting many of the resources & posts people been sharing over the last several days, including posts made by tumblr users for easy access. if anyone has more to add, please do so!

from tumblr users:

this post by @/husskynees (variety of links, academic readings, ebooks, and much more)

this post by @/arabianbutch (Google Drive link, via Scott Long, to a digital library on Palestine)

this post by @/palipunk (information and aid)

this post by @/palipunk (Palestine masterlist)

this post by @/tieflingkisser (anti-doxxing resources)

Articles:

Dispatches from Gaza, via Jewish Currents

UK stifles school debate on Gaza: Remaining silent as a genocide unfolds before our eyes is an unforgivable act of cowardice.

Military briefing: How Hamas fights

Accusing Israel of apartheid is not anti-Semitic: A growing number of Jewish academics are using the term apartheid to describe Israel’s treatment of Palestinians.

The Nakba did not start or end in 1948: Key facts and figures on the ethnic cleansing of Palestine.

via Twitter:

[Video] Ta-Nehisi Coates on Palestine [Youtube stream]

[Link] Abby Martin interview with a refugee from Gaza who grew up under occupation [Soundcloud]

[Thread] Brief history of US denial of genocide on behalf of allies

[Thread] A brief history of Israel's ethnic cleansing of the Palestinians, 1890-present.

[Thread] The untold history of Hamas

[Video] Mohammed El Kurd on 75 years of violence and oppression

[Thread] Abby Martin debunks the "human shield" talking point

[Video] Michael Brooks on why Palestine and Israel are not complex

[Video] Ghassan Kanafani’s famous interview

[Thread] Anti-doxxing resources

Video:

[Lecture] Norman Finkelstein: Israel and Palestine

[Documentary] 1948: Creation & Catastrophe

[Lecture] Kwame Ture on Zionism and Imperialism

[Video] Nelson Mandela Speaking on Palestine

[Video] Why Israel Deliberately Targets Civilians

[Documentary] The Actions of Settlers in Hebron (Tel Rumeida)

[Documentary] Gaza Fights for Freedom

[Documentary] How Palestinians were expelled from their homes

Resources:

Decolonize Palestine

B'Tselem

on the apartheid:

Amnesty International

Human Rights Watch

B'Tselem

Abby Martin's eyewitness account

'misguided little unforgivable hierarchies,' 2005 in wangechi mutu - adrienne edwards, courtney j. martin, kellie jones + chike okeke-agulu (2022)

Living With the Boys • Burning Out

Moodboard

“Holy shit- is that a Martin D-41?” Jolly immediately smiled, walking over to assess the guitars, “and an Ernie Ball Music Man John Petrucci Majesty?”

“Damn, and a Gibson Thunderbird IV Bass?” Ruffilo joined in on the geek-sesh, both of them giddy.

Y/N laughed, “Wow, you must know your stuff. Those were my dads, he was really into music.”

She walked over, grazing her fingers across the strings, “I’ve kept them in his memory, but I have no idea how to play.”

I watched her as she picked up the Martin, handing it to Jolly, “feel free to use them whenever you want; they deserve some love, they were made to be played.”

Jolly’s lips fell open before he smiled warmly, gazing at the guitar, “You’re so fucking cool.”

We all chuckled and I watched Y/N in awe as she interacted with my brothers, taking them in and treating them as if she’d known us all for years.

The stone, the dirt, the dust

The unforgiving promise made to us

Unworthy of your light, your god, your touch

We're guided by the lust

Queer Charecters in One Peice.

The queer community lives and dies but those who remain in sight. What constitutes this sight? From top down, it's Activism. Advocating for yourself, those around you and those you will never see. Community, advocating for yourself and those around you. Then there is seeing yourself as something worthy of protecting, worthy of expression.  Worthy to speak in your own defense. That was an exceedingly pretentious opening for a post regarding one piece and its themes but I do believe that it's a good flat layer in which we can build our understanding of the importance of seeing Militant Queer characters. 

To be militant means to be combative and aggressive in support of a political or social cause, often in favor of extreme and confrontational methods. It is often shown to be a negative state of being. Survivors of the rise of JpegTubers angrily waving their stick puppet around yapping yelping and parking because a lesbian was miffed that she was only socially acceptable as a tab on someone's browser may sit this explanation out, please enjoy the cookies, pizza and soda left outside of the seminar hall, don't bitch about them being store brand tho. 

We still see this bastardization of what it means to be militant in shows and movies, Milquetoast hand wringing writers eager to join the laughs at the straw men they crafted with dyed hair and pronouns waved about to pantomime the faux outrage they believe comes with being militant. “Ah yes, those Snowflakes will most certainly care that I'm placing this Sticker on the back of my truck~! Mmmm, their outrage, delightful, tasty, a Special Little treat for a Special Little Man~ WAIT NO, BIG MAN, BIG MAN, BEHOLD THE BALLS ON MY TRUCK, A SIGN THAT MY OWN BALLS ARE JUST AS SWOLLEN AND ENGORGED, A BEACON OF MASCULINITY THAT ANY MEDICAL PRACTITIONER WILL WEEP AT!” What was I talking about…? 

Oh yeah if i ask you to come up with a list of characters that follow this little diddy. A well meaning, white suburbanite, oft well to do who is overly vocale on social issues much to the detriment to their own social circles. Switching the tracks, a young black woman with a protective hairstyle or Big afro. Maybe a green jacket in most weathers.Attends rallies and goes about abusing bullhorns via shouting about black issues, often alienating her from her own friend group or creating discord between them because she may have white friends that are rather Perturbed by her rhetoric.  The second may be played to attempt a positive characterization but it still comes from the same hay bale. 

This character comes from a shift in public perception that the Advocates words must be genial and pleasant if it is to make the mark. That their struggles must be made palatable and consumable to the larger audience if they are to be accepted. Of course this is a larger load of shit then the streets of london prior to the advent of public plumbing. 

Yes this is the Malcom x vs Martin luther bullshit again, a million smarter authors have penned this shit enough time for the squids to beg for a bit reprieve and I promise i'm not going to go over it to much as I have nothing clever to say on it aside from a brief summary of pop cultural digestion and acidic markings. 

Martin Luther is seen as the Soft Figure, the Proper advocate. The one that will go to a place and make a heart warming street and march and hope the police will beat them a little bit softer or hope the towns water pressure isnt as bad (an unforgivable assertion by the by, those marches were massively disruptive, you cant march that many people down a large street and not have it be in some way fucking disrubtive.) This gets turned into someone like Professor X, one who balks at his own power and helps humanity in hopes of appealing to the shared empathy of all. This is contrasted to Malcolm X, the black panther movement, the Threat of violence in service to a social cause. The Scary Other. This is morphed to magneto, the one who demands mutant acceptance now but is revealed to be a mutant supremacist. Song Meet Dance. 

Now what the fuck does all of this have to do with one piece? Simple. It is the story of the Militant Other. 

But do I hear someone say, it's a shounen manga that's filled with gratuitous fighting! Of course we're going to see those labeled as the “other” being militant! Well I must simply retort that you are trespassing, please leave im vary scared, im holding a sword and quivering in place, my fucking teeth are chattering, get out please, you can have a bottle of water on your way out but take no more I beg of thee. 

The story of one piece is about characters that are othered at birth, made others by circumstance and society or choosing to embrace their otherness and becoming militant.  Who shall we look at first? The main character?! Oh you treat me so well, what a delight~!

Now Luffy and his story isn't inherently tied to him being queer but it sets up a very clear arc path for other queer characters that we will see later on in this post. If you are not aware, luffy is almost violently asexual, by violent i mean in that way that if I was an obnoxious power scaler i could easily list it as a power feat. please note the episode when he first met boa hancock, a woman drawn to be sexually attractive with the explicit power of turning people who find her cute or attractive into stone. Luffy gets hit with this and just ignores it. Fuck you it counts and I like it… ok im sorry, i dont know how you reacted to that information, that was so rude of me, im so sorry, please sit down, you can have another water bottle ontop of the courtesy failed robbery water bottle you recived. Please try to remain hydrated. 

Funny aside, Luffy is Himself. He is always Himself. There is no situation in which he can act as anything other than himself in all situations the self that he embodies is indelible. He understands this about himself thus surrounds himself with people that are able to not change the self but help the self become more with the promise of the same happening to those around him. 

He is also astoundingly passionate in what he believes in, he is passionate about the causes of his friends, he is passionate about the causes of people he finds to be good. This passion often shows itself as Extreme, Violent and one may even say Confrontational. Of course some may not consider punching someone directly in the face multiple times as confrontational but apply your better judgment to this matter as you consider it. 

Luffy is a militant activist. When he supports a cause, it's mostly for its ideological aspects. He believes that people should be free in the most basic of terms, they should be free to travel, grow, eat, laugh. Anything that hinders that is a direct insult to Luffy's ongoing system of thought and means you are going to be punched or ignored. 

Lets keep going down the line to see who else fits in this theme, shall we? No? What the fuck man? I gave you two water bottles, and they're like…Good water bottles, they don't even have those squiggly walls, they're like… smooth plastic square bottles. 

Well I'm going with or without you, starting with my beloved Bon clay. We meet bon prior to the start of the alabasta arc, fished out of the water by the straw hat crew in which he gives his express thanks, here we are given a stark humanization. We get to see him eagerly match pace with the energy of the crew, eagerly feeding into their jokes, showing off his powers, laughing with them.  

A side note. Laughing has always been made a huge deal in one piece, whether it's the other characters' starkly unique laughs or most arcs ending off with the crew and cast laughing. It's a show of celebration, that you are in a joyous mood, that you are Happy. I wonder if that's important to any narrative theme… anyways

I think this is all astoundingly important because they show bon clay as a fun weirdo who is in love with the self they have become before they are shown as a part of the villains crew. It establishes that they are more than their narrative born role as a minor antagonist, they are a complex human that is capable of complex thoughts and ideology. Show cased by the end of the arc, the exact moment that i fell in love with them, like really fucking hard. I'm talking about running into senpai, bread in mouth. My hearts going doki doki, doctors are flipping shit trying to label it as heart arrhythmia but oh no it's not you P.H.Dick it's the power of love burning like a goddamn cyclone smashing into a oil refinery, that explosion isn't disrupting the wind flow but it is sucking up those flames like a really well thought out sexual innuendo that your super duper impressed by and think is really funny and want to congratulate me on for making such a cool sexual joke. 

They sacrifices himself in order to allow the straw hats to escape from alabasta. Ending their appearance with a heartfelt farewell to the crew that they have fought with only a day ago, that he was willing to kill on orders a day ago. Leaving them with the words

“One may stray from the path of a man, one may stray from the path of a woman, but we never stray from the path of a human.”

FUCK THATS A REALLY GOOD LINE, anyways we see him again later in impel down in one of the hell layers, with even the scorching heat and arid air unable to squash his eccentric personality like the god damn wonder they are. Dancing in the depths of hell they soon hear that luffy has broken in and rush lower through the layers to meet up with them, Eager to join up and fight with him. 

Again, we are seeing behavior Vary similar to luffy, that actions which serve their passions are to be taken always. A passion for friendship, loyalty, all of that. The willingness to serve time in a massive human rights violation of a prison…ok thats a little vague, thats most prisons… Anyways we do get to see more of bon clay's belief system as we meet both our next queer character and our next militant character. 

Ivankov. They to me are the true exemplification of all three levels of advocacy in service to a group of peoples existence. At the most basic level, ivankov cannot hide who they are, it's impossible, I mean look at her! He has powers that can increase the size of their face, they wear makeup so thick it can be peeled off, they are Violently of the self. 

For their community, we have the new kama queendom, she has created a paradise in the depths of super hell jail to protect those around her. Even outside of the jail he has done much of the same by creating the okama queendom, the island outside of government control in which men and women flock in order to be able to express their true selves. Notably, despite ivenkovs ability to turn men into women, many of them do not make use of this power. They are free to express themselves without the expectation of fitting into that role visually. That's the community aspect to me. 

Then we get the more militant activism, ivenkovs role as a member of the revolutionary army. The way he provides an outpost in the middle of the grand line, his funding through his miracle medical work, his willingness to fight for those she will never ever see. 

And there are more, we see other queer characters in the revolutionary army, and they have yet to be shown in any sort of negative light. Their militant activism, their willingness to fight and rally others to fight for a cause is shown to be positive. 

The desire to fight for a cause throughout one piece is shown to be an overall positive cause, all forms of it. Whether it's through the more peaceful methods such as otohime or through violence and confrontation such as Fisher tiger. 

So to reiterate because this is getting hella long, I love One Piece because it allows its queer characters to fight for what they believe in, in any way that they desire. That queer characters are allowed to be weird, they are allowed to be evil, they are ugly, beautiful, powerful, anything and everything! 

Thank you for reading.

Flesh avatar!Martin fic

TW: severe body image issues, self hatred, negative self talk, body dysmorphia, body horror (ish), unhealthy one sided relationships

Jon wasn’t eating.

The level of Martin’s romantic obsession had never crossed the line of tracking someone’s eating habits, but it didn’t take a genius to see that whatever he was eating, it wasn’t enough. His own apple and snack bar combination had lasted him throughout secondary school, a certainty that he sincerely hoped wouldn’t change any time soon. But Jon needed it more than him.

Behind his desk, he felt small. He didn’t have to be aware of the flesh that hung off his limbs in jiggling masses, so he opted for something better. Something smaller. Jon was substantially smaller than him - a fact that he found overwhelming at first. He switched between the constant burning of awe of a lithe and sharp frame and the need to put his excess to use.

The line of sight from his desk to Jon’s office was cruelly clear. A hulking great wooden door between them, one that was the stumbling subject of many of his own poems. A foggy allegory of distance. It was a momentous occasion of sunshine when that door peeled open. Each time, Martin drank his fill of Jonathan Sims, but recently, it had left his mouth uncomfortably dry.

Today was one of those occasions. A forest green sweater vest hung off what only just passed off as a body. Lines cut beneath his deep brown eyes, distracting rather than highlighting. Cheekbones that once lifted a haughty expression only shadowed a much heavier one. Maybe this was just the rose tint that surrounded Jon, romanticising a time of crisis where Martin could justify stepping in. Or maybe Jon was actually not doing well. His body followed this line of thinking, footsteps treading heavily after Jon’s rabbit-footed paces, into the kitchen.

“Hi, Jon.”

Fat kids could only ever want to be one of three things when they grew up. Either utilise their size as a sign of comedy, strength or as softness. Anything else was unforgivable. Martin chose softness. He let that seep into his words, melting his body into the patches in the floor, so he would not trip.

“Martin.”

He lapped up the slight incline of his neck, a nod that contained a dizzying array of possibilities. Jon was clutching at a chipped mug as if it were his only anchor to the mortal world. Martin was inclined to believe that.

“I was wondering…”

The cupboard doors bristled against the hinges in the silence that followed. Jon did not expect further conversation. Neither did Martin.

“Yes?”

“I brought too much food.”

“Right.”

Now, Martin. Prove your value as a pile of meat.

“Would you like some?”

An apple. A peace offering. An organic bridge of sorts, nutrients shared from a body that doesn’t need it to a body that does. Almost parasitic. And Jon looked at it as such. With the disgust of someone offering to attach to him, to leach off of his energy and time.

“It’s just a fruit. It won’t kill you.”

Jon’s eyes sunk further into the past. Into whatever warren he had been dragged into, taking from him his edges and sanding down into the bare necessities. Martin only had one card left to play.

“I…please just take it, Jon?”

Sincerity.

Emotions are rarely seen in the fat kid. Emotions are frowned upon. They increase your size, your ability to be noticed, so reassuring or stoic or half-laughing are your only choices. This is a wildcard. Not even Jonathan Sims could predict his response. Unpredictable was something Martin could get used to being.

“...Sure, Martin.”

Jon gave Martin a wide berth while crossing the kitchen. As if he had grown suddenly and was unsure of his new dimensions. Martin felt no contortion of his size, standing, watching Jon walk away, biting the apple in his hand. There was no door to the kitchen, of any material, let alone wood. Nothing especially poetic about eating an apple in an office. Just a faint sense of hunger and a new willingness to do something about it.