Day One Hundred and Twenty-One

-A woman confided in me about how rude and unhelpful the service was when she called to activate her Target REDcard. This comes as a great shock to me, as I have always considered the automated directory that handles activations to be as sweet and compassionate a computer as they come.

-While rolling by my register, a toddler stared at me and froze up, pointing and screeching, “GAY! GAY!” I am absolutely flabbergasted that this toddler is so uncool as to blow my cover and out me in this way.

-A five year-old looked at me and squeaked, “Pikachu!” With minimal hesitation, I gave the previously agreed-upon countersign, a curt nod and half of a smile. As planned, he picked up his stuffed Pikachu, hugged it closely, whispered about how soft it was, and walked away. We have successfully completed Protocol 25 flawlessly, pulling it off without a hitch. This bodes well for Phase II.

-Tonight, I find the store flooded with guests from abroad. Hailing from all parts of Europe, Asia, and South America, we have now become a United Nations retailer. I am excited to be a part of this progressive new world and look forward to spreading stickers around the globe.

-Three gangly tween boys did not bother hiding their excitement as they purchased a few pieces of sour candy, discussing their plans of recording their painful experiences and uploading it to YouTube. These boys were steadfastly sure of their oncoming viral fame. I admire their confidence and wish them the best of luck and view counts.

-As I went to clock out for the night, I let out the slightest of sneezes. This echoed around the store with tremendous force to the point that I could hear distinct repeats of the noise even after my sneeze had concluded. This was a troubling moment for me, as the high fidelity of the echoes made me momentarily worried for the surrounding invisible men and their crippling allergies.

Grab Your Things (I’ve come to take you home)

FLUFFFFF written in the dead of night, as seems to be my wont lately. This is a late fill for @rebelcaptainprompts Rebelcaptain Appreciation Week, prompt five: Home. Title taken from the song “Solsbury Hill” by Peter Gabriel, although I actually prefer the Sarah McLachlan live cover.

Grab Your Things (I’ve come to take you home)

Cassian often thought that emerging from deep cover was like surfacing after a deep-sea dive. You had to take it in measured stages, pausing at certain depths on your way up through the levels of ocean, just the same as you had to move carefully through Imperial space, checking in through encrypted channels on your way.

If you did it too fast, you’d get the bends, or your cover would be blown, both possibly fatal outcomes. So you took it slow.

Which he appreciated. He did. But Force, it took so long.

He didn’t remember it taking so long all the other times, although logic dictated that it always had, or possibly longer.

He’d always been able to sink deep into a cover before, leaving Cassian almost completely behind as he became Joreth or Willix or whoever. But this time, a stubborn knot of Cassian-ness remained deep inside, tied up around a pair of green eyes and a smirking mouth.

He’d missed her desperately.

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In the Waiting Dark (The Red Moon Rises)

Written by: @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Prompt: #5 Everlark fairytale au of Little Red Riding Hood, preferably similar in tone to the film “The Company of Wolves.”  [submitted by Anonymous]

Rating: T for this chapter

Warnings: Mentions of blood, fantasy and horror thematic elements

A/N: This is the first chapter of what will be a multi-chapter story. Overall rating will be M for the following reasons - Blood, fantasy and horror thematic elements, violence, mentions of non-consensual, mentions of child abuse, disturbing imagery, and sexual content. There may be more as I am still working out a few details. Inspiration for this story was pulled from several different versions of the Red Riding Hood tale, to include the film mentioned in the prompt. I’ve been wanting to write this AU for a long time, so I truly hope you all enjoy what I’ve come up with, especially you, Anonymous! Feel free to stop by and tell me your thoughts, I have Anon turned on in case you wish to remain so. <3 KDNFB

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verstael’s log dates vs other canon ffxv dates

Extra stuff for funsies / how those logs fit around other established ffxv canon events:

  • “The war” Noctis + co refer to is the “30 years ago” timeframe in which Regis and his co were all running about in 725. The first 5 (chronologically) of Verstael’s logs lead just up to this point, dating 722-724. By the time Regis + co fought in the war, Niflheim had already perfected mass-production of magitek using human children; his use of daemons as weapons was beginning by 725 as well. 
  • Bonus round: sometime around 725-726 either on the fringes of or after the war, a young Cor Leonis becomes the only person to survive Gilgamesh’s trial…for the next few decades, at least.
  • Prompto is born October 25th, 735: he’s taken from Niflheim by an unknown Lucian less than a year later on May 5th, 736 (assuming Verstael is extremely fast on his logs and recorded it the day it happened.)
  • The Diamond Weapon used in the imperial invasion/Kingsglaive film is completed April 8th, 756, a few months before the treaty signing on May 16th. Ravus Nox Fleuret had signed the order/plan to destroy Insomnia (Document: Proposal for Operation: Countersign) September 18th the year before. There’s no exact date that Ardyn proposes the treaty, but it’s somewhere in a timeframe between September 755 and May 756.
    A bit of headcanon, but it’s likely the opening of Kingsglaive is basically them intercepting a magitek test run: there’s only one Diamond Weapon at that point, but by the ending there are multiple dropped on the city proper.
  • Two months after Insomnia falls, Verstael finishes his life’s work and gives a nice warm shoutout to the slime man Izunia. Who knows what Ardyn actually makes of all these things, but he’s been enabling them either way.

edit; possible inconsistency between Ravus’s signing of that document and his actual position: he isn’t appointed official commander until the time of the game. Given that every other date snaps together so well, as well as his signature looking different (I’m hunting down instances of it atm), its possible it was pinned on him in hindsight.

neoliberalism-nightly says-

it helps that you are doing exposure therapy already

every day i see tumblr user neoliberalism nightly commenting on my posts. every day, i force myself to take deep breaths. i think to myself, “even if they are completely wrong about everything, i will forgive them, even if it is the most difficult thing i have ever done”

and then i reply. it takes more effort than things like “getting out of my chair after i’ve been sitting for a long time”. it takes more effort than writing an essay. it even takes more effort than showering every day.

but i do it. i am a martyr

The June theme for @meflashfanwork is “Legacy”. 

Thirty years after the end, three old Spectres meet for the induction of the newest one.

Three Reunions

The Reapers were there too.

Citadel tourists gawked and pulled out tour guides in hopes of distinguishing the armoured proxy bodies of the three Widow Reapers by their colouring and pattern of lights. Kaidan, by now, could tell them apart by the way they moved: Paragon was upright and square-shouldered, Sentinel gangly, and Guardian had a kind of weariness to its movements that reminded Kaidan painfully of his own age.

Their primary bodies were far away, of course, holding their long watchful orbits on the edges of Widow’s system. The proxies attending the ceremony were remote platforms, each holding only a fragment of its Reaper’s mind - albeit a fragment still backed by aeons of experience and uncountable shared memories.

It was almost unheard of for all three to attend the same event, and yet here they all were, shouldering through the crowds that shrank back to give them room.

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Sometimes “good-natured teasing” is just we’re-all-friends-here countersignaling that harms no one. Sometimes it’s that one person has internalized the idea that putting up with or even encouraging a certain amount of verbal abuse is just how you get people to like you.

So I was reading the dude’s blog - the one who said that gay people don’t deserve freedoms - and there’s a post where he says “Because it’s natural doesn’t mean it’s good or that the people undergoing it don’t have a right to fight against it. Especially if you know that the place will go down the drain once your group is no longer dominant.” and “So you admit that you would cling to life and fight even if it’s a loosing fight. But still expect entire civilisations, (you can just say civilisation because without white people there won’t be much of that around.) to just shrug and let themselves be slaughtered and erased?” when talking about a predicted decline in the white population in America, which got me a little suspicious cause doesn’t that sound like he’s insinuating that culture and civilization is something only white people can do, and that America would “go down the drain” if white people weren’t dominant? Well someone else got suspicious of that and said “As far as white people being the reason for the civilization, that statement is very much untrue.”, to which our homophobic friend responded “Just because you prefer to keep your eyes shut to the glaringly obvious doesn’t mean I have to.”

So I kept scrolling and I see that he also said “The right has been playing nice for decades now. Even since before WWI. What did it get us?” on another post, and said “We need to do what he said, but at the same time we need to be militant. We need to fight.” in reference to someone saying “While I personally have no problem with running over antifa members, I would strongly advise against it as we in the right need to make ourselves look more professional.” “We need to start getting members into important places. Just as Law Enforcement infiltrate far right groups, we need to join their organizations.” So… he’s advocating for far right violence.


He also reblogged this nightmare: (Yeah, that’s someone trying to justify what the driver did and urging people not to publicly criticize the rally.)

And I’m just going to reiterate that he called LGBT+ people “degenerate”, “druggies”, “horrible”, “egotistical”, “sex obsessed”, and a “toxic dump”, blamed us for the AIDs crisis, said that we’re bad at being a “normal functional human being”, and said “we never should have been given more freedom than the decriminalisation of the acts in private”

And told me that all of that was just “legitimately criticising the ills of a subculture that’s going downhill fast”

It’s becoming a pattern where I argue with someone about some random unrelated thing, and then they turn out to be a white supremacist.

I made a comment in the tags of his ask about noticing that stuff on his blog, so I figured I’d provide evidence for what I said.

I also mentioned a post where he supports eugenics, which is here:

~ Vape

Dandelion Wine

It was half past nine,
as I searched for a sign,
hoping that someday
you would become mine.
I gazed at the skyline,
and prayed for the divine,
to send you a countersign
that would detonate the mine.
I’m hoping these words
creep up your spine,
and rest lightly upon
your loving mind.
My darling,
believe me when
I speak these lines,
you are as fine,
as dandelion wine.

Let me tell you something, confidential like.

We think we’re far gone. We think we’re exiled. Some of us think we’re making a Black Pilgrimage to the Lady in the Mountain, trying to find the hidden door.

Some of us raise our heads and yearn to join the shades that stream across the starry sky, with all their smoke and pipe and drum and battle fury.

But here’s the quiet secret, oh best beloved.

We are already in the Mountain. Did you think that Lady of the Lake stuck us in the Tree as punishment? No, that bewitchment is endlessly simple, for time circles like a noose about the neck of a wild and frenzied one, full of fury.

And the King sleeps ‘neath the Mountain, or so they say. Under hill, lain beneath the mound. But those with eyes to see and ears to hear know that in sleep, buried and close to the land, so the King may rise, so the Dux may  haul abroad his warband. For is it not said that the wizards may fall- down-as-dead, and rise to walk the winds faster than an arrow?

For down amongst the dead men, we see the fires light the starry-cave, and hear the songs raised by sweet voices and fairer folk. Drink deep of the Mysteries; the orgia of intoxicating honey singing in your veins.

For behold; it is the craftsmen of the Deep Below which may present us with tablets of gold and weapons of gods; Totenpass and totenkopf mark the way, oh best beloved. The severed heads of prophets breathe with a great hissing of snakes and rushing winds borne of a black eagle’s wing.

All about us ring the signs, stars encircling; bull’s bloody haunch flung heavenward to bless us all with blot.

And all the while, Hermes herds us with whispered words: As above, so Below. 

See Hephaistos drink from the vine-god’s cup, he who was hurled down from Olympos. Watch the crippled god smile ruefully at the bitter truth of unmoving nature; see him teach vengeance to she who doomed him, now held immobile upon her throne.

Yet, cock your head, lose one eye and you shall see the headless truth; Her blessing pours forth from milk-white breast, and so we fall inward, like a kid, seeing doom and vengeance transformed into living vibrant lesson.

Sly Hermes, liar and thief of Apollo’s cattle! But what a trade wrought upon those poor benighted beasts by way of music; raised by lute and syrinx, all in piping rhythm. Such a song, with its endless scales, as summons lost Orpheus, reborn once more in Pythagorean gold.

Pashu rising and descending; Herakleitos marks the path, and weeping and swollen, so he smears the dung upon himself, the shite of those that do not see. Obscuring himself forever, yet trusting to Sun’s bright fire, his wisdom is revealed!

Witness as, all unrecognized, he is torn apart by blackened hounds - the commonest of all deaths.

And at the crossroads, so the hero strokes the hide of Kerberos, a head on every road. Hermes passes by, whispers the sign with rod aloft, to be met with countersign.

Hodos ano kato.

Rejoice, oh best beloved. For this? This is the middle-world. Here, truly you may, by root and branch, ride the terrible fury of Being and horse the terror of existence!

Troubled by a wound that shall never heal, so we plunge ourselves deep into the roaring well of wyrd, noosed by the norns which bind our fate. Only then, to comprehend with tears of salt, the sweetest secret.

Our roots go on forever, and we are daimonic flesh and blood and bone.

People’s worries about demographic decline among the educated are really hard to square with my personal experience of everyone I know having three or more kids.

To be fair, the people I know are either academic economists or Finance Professionals and I realize this is not a representative sample of the intellectual elite, and in particular both groups are known for being kind of conservative/reactionary, at least compared to the rest of said elite.

(And for the record this totally doesn’t hold among the people I know who are not members of one of those groups.)

(Not sure how much this is economists vs. all academics–a French person once mentioned to me that “it’s the trend for all French intellectuals to have three children nowadays.”)

But it still makes me wonder if there’s some sort of countersignaling backlash to the demographic transition coming?

Like, there’s a level of education/achievement where the wife is working and wants to succeed in her career and thus doesn’t have time to have lots of kids. And then there’s a level where the wife works in a sufficiently creative/self-directed profession that she has plenty of job flexibility, plus they have enough money for the best full-time nannies and private schools anyway.

isaacsapphire replied to your postThe preference that keeps irritating me and isn’t…

Compare… for a more meta perspective on showing weakness.

I think that’s countersignaling though. “You’re allowed to wear pink and be ‘weak’ as long as you’re actually strong.” Hence the reference to “real men” and the fact that the central example of “a real man wearing pink” is not a gay sissy femboy decked out in lace, but a large strong man wearing, idk, a pink T-shirt.

Everyone understands countersignaling to not be real weakness. This is just more fear-of-looking-weak paraded about under a foundation of false-weakness, possibly in order to shame those who are afraid of looking weak *in addition to* shaming those who wear pink and who are yet not “real men”, ie those who are weak (under this paradigm of weakness-measuring).

(In some part I think this is the function that some kinds of cultural appropriation can serve, wherein someone is deliberately showing off how ignorant they are of a given culture by countersignaling.)

But thank you for the link, and I do genuinely mean that.

[…]The life of the four young men had become fraternal. D'Artagnan, who had no settled habits of his own, as he came from his province into the midst of a world quite new to him, fell easily into the habits of his friends.

They rose about eight o'clock in the winter, about six in summer, and went to take the countersign and see how things went on at M. de Treville’s. D'Artagnan, although he was not a Musketeer, performed the duty of one with remarkable punctuality. He went on guard because he always kept company with whoever of his friends was on duty. He was well known at the Hotel of the Musketeers, where everyone considered him a good comrade. M. de Treville, who had appreciated him at the first glance and who bore him a real affection, never ceased recommending him to the king.

On their side, the three Musketeers were much attached to their young comrade. The friendship which united these four men, and the need they felt of seeing another three or four times a day, whether for dueling, business, or pleasure, caused them to be continually running after one another like shadows; and the Inseparables were constantly to be met with seeking one another, from the Luxembourg to the Place St. Sulpice, or from the Rue du Vieux-Colombier to the Luxembourg […]


Look at those fucking hipsters ♡❤

More and more, I find myself writing in lowercase, and specifically in that tumblr lowercase style that uses less punctuation and needlessly abbreviates words.

When I do it I’m definitely conveying a specific register. It’s less formal, less polite, more sarcastic and deadpan. Writing in it feels good, sort of like wearing a leather jacket. It conveys a jaded world-weariness; it says, “I don’t care what you think.”

It can be used to countersignal caring: when someone I barely know wishes me a happy birthday I reply, “Thanks!” When my friend whom I’ve known for half my life does, I reply “thx man.” (Without the period. Punctuation and quotes are a problematic combination.)

I’m more likely to use tumblr lowercase when posting something that’s not directed to anyone in particular. But unless it’s someone I know well and/or it’s a casual, joking context, I use capitals and normal punctuation/spelling standards when I’m talking to someone. It conveys politeness, it conveys “I am taking you seriously” and “we are allies, in this together to seek truth.”

There are people, not so much in this corner of tumblr, but stereotypical tumblr people who show up in my Facebook feed who never deviate from tumblr lowercase. They can be having a serious discussion with a random person on someone else’s Facebook status about the Israel/Palestine situation and there it is, with liberal use of “yr” for “your” and “sry” for “sorry” (spoiler: they’re not) and lots of Capital Letters with “…” and “~” and “???” randomly thrown in from time to time.

I don’t ever want to talk to those people. It’s hard to know exactly what the lowercase register conveys to other people. But to me, it conveys Not a Good Person to Talk To. It makes it seem like they’re always trying to score points or somehow assert their dominance by being the one who cares less. Like they’re never attempting a real discussion, just hiding behind layers of snark to avoid engaging with anyone.

I wonder if that is actually what they’re doing, or if they just really don’t feel like typing the extra e, o, and e in “people.”

So there’s this local restaurant whose restroom options are robot or alien. Which has made me wonder, what other false dichotomies would make good nongendered restroom options?

So far, my favorites (that my primary and I came up with) are:
Sweet or savory
Star Wars or Star Trek
Athens or Sparta (keep all the 300 bros who mess up public restrooms in one place!)
Hamilton or Jefferson
Signaling or Countersignaling

When she says “LOL FRAGILE MASCULINITY” what she means is “It’s so pathetic that you have to signal masculinity instead of being inherently masculine enough to credibly countersignal masculinity!”

what she means is “It’s so pathetic that you’re visibly trying hard to be manly instead of effortlessly exuding manliness from your mere presence”

what she means is “you’re not manly enough”

what she means is “you’re a faggot.”

Doctor Nerdlove is a former Pick Up Artist.

Hugo Schwyzer is a practically a statutory rapist.

This is something redpillers don’t understand. They want to call male feminists pansies. They’re not.

They’re Alpha-Male Assholes who also happen to be misandrists.

What do contemporary feminists want from men? They want us to be like Nerdlove and Schwyzer. Sociopathically stoic, but with a sensitive facade, frantically countersignaling machismo.

Men who break with masculinity and actually look unmanly while doing it are raked over the coals by feminists. Bronies are misogynist. Drag Queens are transphobic. Hikkikomori are rapists. Any man who likes feminine media is steeeealing it from women. 

The only kind of man a feminist respects is one who is so overwhelmingly manly that you can dye his hair pink and drape him in flower crowns, and he STILL looks like he could kick your ass.

Smash the gender binary”? Don’t make me laugh.

Ever so slightly fine-tune the gender binary

That’s your motto.

The school district in Hometown is apparently debating banning boys from wearing dresses on Halloween because it’s offensive to transgender people.

My mom thought I would be excited about this, since I (and my sister) spent about a year campaigning to convince her to be accepting of trans people. 

I am not excited about this.

I know trans women who were scarred by “men in a dress” humor and who internalized transmisogyny from stuff like that which made it much harder for them to come out. I get why many trans people dislike cis drag events. I’m sure there are trans girls somewhere in Hometown Valley School District who’d prefer no boy ever get laughs by wearing a dress, ever again.

But, uh, I am equally sure there are trans girls somewhere in Hometown Valley School District who’d want to wear a dress on Halloween, protected by the fact that on Halloween you’re allowed to do things you’d get bullied for any other day of the year. And I’m sure there are boys who want to wear dresses who’d do the same thing, and nonbinary kids, and kids figuring out their gender. 

And more than that, even knowing that some kids will perform gender nonconformity for humor and shock value, I am not cool with punishing gender nonconformity. 

So why not talk to the kids? why not say “why is a boy in a dress funny? why is it a costume? “Galadriel” is a costume, “Margaret Thatcher” is a costume, a dress is not a costume. But you can still wear a dress, because there’s nothing wrong with boys wearing dresses”

…because I remember the kids at my high school, and if you gave them that speech it’d become less safe to wear a dress. When wearing a dress is edgy, rebellious, and anti-authoritarian, then there are kids who will do it and everyone else will be pretty much cool with it. If wearing a dress is a Administration Inclusiveness Project, then almost no one will, and the kids who do will get bullied.

I have no idea how to fix that.