for the human rights causes

NowandGen Please welcome the newest Padalecki, Odette Elliott!! 👶🏼💗 I wanted to celebrate this special occasion by collaborating with one of my favorite brands, @popandsuki, to raise funds for two amazing causes: Planned Parenthood and Human Rights Campaign, who need our help now more than ever. Help us spread the love and joy Odette has brought us by monogramming your own heart tag. They are super limited edition so will run out quickly! Link to purchase is in my bio. Thanks guys! 😍

some SOFT CIVILIAN ANGEL CONCEPTS, because i love civilian angels:


a lone virtue, much smaller than many virtues but larger than some, is assigned with just one miracle– any miracle, it doesn’t matter, so long as it is moved by grace. some virtues turn planets with their miracles, but this one knows it should start smaller. much smaller, probably. it touches down in new york city, 1947, between a bustling club and a small pawn shop.

it’s very easy, once both feet are on asphalt, to stop listening to the hum of every voice in heaven and to focus on the the chorus here on earth; new york is as busy as the gates to purgatory and twice as noisy. and the music… there is really something to be said for the boundless nature of human music. the virtue sits in the window of the club and watches the musicians’ hands, losing days learning swing jazz measures.

after a while, the virtue sends a prayer up to God: “can i stay right here, where music and light never stops? there are countless patterns to it, and i want to see how people dance.”

so the virtue completes its task– one miracle, moved by grace: it learns to play the double bass, and joins a jazz band.


there are a few reasons God never sends seraphs to earth, the first of those being that they can never seem to stick the landing. the first seraph’s attempt is long, long before humankind is around to be embarrassed for it.

“smaller. slower. much less fire next time.” God says, grimacing.  “try again in 65 million years or so.”


it is the duty of a throne to know and impart all the wisdom of heaven, intermediaries for the rest of the angels and saints. this is an awful lot of knowledge, even for a mind as endless and intricate as a maze of mirrors– so much that some thrones can’t be bothered with the sharing. some find that human ears don’t take too well to their voices, simply can’t hear them at all, like colors outside a visible spectrum. one throne finds it’s much easier to whisper secrets to the dirt, all her voices at once, and make flowers bloom.


a few odd million years later, the seraph finally makes its way to earth. it gets the pacing right, squeezes itself into a form just about perfectly human, and causes no extinctions this time. but here’s another reason God never sends seraphs: they just don’t know how to shut up once they get going.

“listen, you’re on earth now. there’s only so many hours in a day for talking, learn to make it count.”

the seraph approximates a frown and says “but talking is my favorite.”

“and you’re very good at it. just maybe try only one voice and language at a time. speaking in multitudes scares the kids.”

“that seems fair.”

“– and enough with the flames.”

“i will try.”

“and remember you don’t need to cover your face when people look at you– i promise they won’t burn up.”


there’s a principality who spends all their time with dogs.

they abandon their post in heaven and come to earth with the express purpose of opening a shelter for abandoned ones, big and small, young and old. “but… couldn’t you have just let a human do that? isn’t that what humans do?” asks one skeptical angel, a malakhim, lowest of the choirs. “aren’t you supposed to be overseeing the rest of us? isn’t that your job?”

“because,” says the principality, comfortable under a pile of sleeping puppies. “half of you are so tiresome. look at these– these are the real angels.”

Midnight Masquerade - Part 7

Originally posted by talk-me-down-troye

Genre: Vampire! AU | Angst | Fluff

Synopsis: Your best friend drags you into attending a masquerade ball with her, only to abandon you in the middle of the strange dance. Standing alone in the midst of a flurry of people, the events that play out here change the course of your life; only to leave you wondering; who is under the mask?

Pairing: Reader x Yoongi (Ft. the other boys of BTS cx)

Word count: 1473

Warnings: None for this part c:

Series: Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10

(A/N: Ah, so it’s been a little while since I updated this, but it’s finally done after another bout of writers’ block! Please do leave me feedback, there’s always plenty of room for improvement! I feel like it jumped around a little bit in this part, if that makes sense cx)

(Also, I feel like this should’ve been longer, but I hope you guys still enjoy! <3)

Your eyes forced themselves open, eyelids heavy, a tremendous pain surging through your head. Staring up at the white ceiling, you pushed your hair away from your face, a thin sheet of sweat covering your forehead. You were sure you looked like death in that moment; you certainly felt like it as you lied there, white sheets pulled up to your chin. This was the second time in a few days you had ended up in a medical room of some sort - although this time it was the university’s medical room - and to be completely honest, you were tired of it.

Slowly and painfully, you propped yourself up, your head leaning against the cold wall, eyes fluttering shut again. You were strangely sensitive to every little sound; shuffling, sighing from the corner of the room, far distant voices from elsewhere in the building, the scraping of chairs against the floor. The sounds all blended together into one big mess, causing you to cower and whimper, clamping your hands against your ears. At the sight of this, one of the figures that had sat slumped in a chair in the corner perked up, an expression of slight worry on his face, his lips turning downwards in a frown. He stared at you, debating whether to approach you, or stay where he was, and so his body remained hostile, ready to jump up if your state suddenly worsened. Strangely, it pained him both physically and emotionally, as he felt that… connection again.

Your senses were being overloaded in that moment; sounds, smells, everything was merging together, your head beginning to spin, spiralling out of your control. Groans erupted from your throat, as you clutched handfuls of your own hair, shaking your head over and over again. The scar in your neck throbbed once again, pain beginning from there and searing through your body. You screamed out, the pain and sensory overload becoming too much for you to handle at once, your body shuddering, convulsing. At the sight of this, the figure shot out of his seat, fringe falling into his eyes from the sudden jerky movement. In a flash he was by your side, his hands reaching out awkwardly to take yours, squeezing them, as he called out in a rough voice to the others sitting nearby, “Go get the nurse. Now.” They simply nodded in acknowledgement before scurrying off, shooting you a worried glance along the way. His touch seemed to soothe you, your vision slowly becoming clearer, the sounds finally beginning to separate again, the pain finally subsiding. You glanced down to see who this person was, only to come face to face with Yoongi, his eyes holding a strange sort of tenderness you were seeing for the first time. Your breath caught in your throat, your emotions conflicted as you stared back, your eyes roaming around the features of his face.

On the one hand, you felt fear creep through your body; after all, he was the one who did this to you, who caused you this immense pain. You didn’t even know what he was, he certainly wasn’t human, unless humans had suddenly developed fangs and an immense blood-lust. And yet, the way he looked up at you, with the softest expression, a certain tenderness and concern in his eyes, your heart melted a little, as you felt yourself drawn to this man. It was a strange sort of attraction you couldn’t explain, almost as if there was a string, an invisible bond connecting the two of you together. You had a strange yearning to touch his face, to run your fingers across his jawline, to brush his hair out of his eyes. And so, your hand, almost involuntarily, reached out to do just that, the coldness of his skin causing you to flinch ever so slightly. His eyes remained fixated on yours, his figure remaining ever so still as you ran your slender fingers under his chin, and along his jawline. The two of you were so caught up in your own world, none of you noticed the other boys enter - the nurse following close behind -  despite the sounds of snickering and giggling. Jimin leaned on the door frame, his eyes scrunching up into crescent shapes as you watched the two of you, giggles continuing to escape from his throat. You finally snapped out of the trance you were in, a blush rapidly rising onto your cheeks as the two of you sprang away from each other. You both looked around awkwardly, as the other boys finally broke out into laughter, Yoongi glaring at them in warning.

“So, let me get this straight, one second you look like your soul is escaping from your body, but as soon as we leave, you’re suddenly touching each other up?” Jimin asked through giggles, his body shaking with laughter at the sight. “What’s going on here, hm?”

You tried to glare menacingly at them, and yet when combined with your flushed cheeks and your awkward posture, it was a rather feeble attempt which caused the other boys to laugh even harder, the nurse standing awkwardly by the door. Yoongi cleared his throat, glaring at them all once again, before stepping forward to confer with the nurse in hushed voices, as they glanced over at you every now and then with concerned expressions. The atmosphere in the room rapidly changed; the laughter stopped, and instead the nurse slowly made her way over to sit beside you, the other boys no longer doubled over in laughter, and instead a tense expression appearing on their faces.

“How are you feeling?” The nurse asked, her voice strangely soft and soothing, inducing a sort of trance in you.

“I… I guess I feel a lot better than before…” You stuttered, your gaze fixated on this strange new person. Something about her voice, this look in her eyes, caused you to feel very calm as a trance overcame you, your eyes glossing over and beginning to droop.

“I…” You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, as your body went limp, falling backwards into the bed, your breathing beginning to slow to a steady pace. At the sight of your figure collapsing so suddenly, Yoongi tensed up, only for Seokjin to touch his shoulder reassuringly.

“She’s fine, you know that?” Jin inquired, his face twisting into a expression of curiosity. “Yoongi, why are you so… hostile all of a sudden? You know, you still haven’t explained anything.”

Namjoon spoke up, his eyebrows raised, as he added, “Seokjin is right, you know. Do you know this girl? You must, judging by your reaction to her. You know it’s not a good idea to get mixed up with humans; especially catching feelings for one.”

Yoongi exhaled, leaning back in his seat and glancing at your slumped figure. “You know the masquerade ball? A few days ago? The annual ball.”

The boys leaned forward in their seats, their figures all shifted towards Yoongi now. Their curiosities piqued; they were eager to find out more about you, wanting to clear the current air of mystery surrounding you.

“Yeah well… she was there. I’m sure it was her, it’s that familiar scent… that sweet, sweet scent of hers…” Yoongi gazed off into the distance, reminiscing, his fingers subconsciously trailing across his jaw, retracing your touch. “She’s different. She’s no ordinary human. But I don’t think she’s one of us either. It’s hard to tell… She’s nothing like any human I’ve ever met… she’s a lot stronger in many ways…”

The nurse stood listening intently, jotting down information on her clipboard. She was also one of their kind; sent here by none other than Yoongi’s father, for their own “health reasons”, he had said. At least, that was what Yoongi’s father had told him, and the other boys. Her role was more than just in case something were to happen to Yoongi or any of the other vampires around the university, however. She had a special reason for being here, a reason allocated to her secretly by Yoongi’s father. A task to find someone specifically. And it was that moment that it began to dawn on her after hearing the details Yoongi was providing about you, causing her hand to freeze, no longer taking down information and instead looking up. Her eyes darted between Yoongi and you… was it possible that she had finally found the person that Yoongi’s father seemed so intent on finding?

“You might be right about her not being an ordinary human…” She mused, causing everyone to look up with surprise.

“What do you mean, Sumi?” Yoongi asked slowly, sitting up in his seat as he stared at her, anticipating her answer.

“Yoongi… I think she’s a half-breed.” She looked him directly in the eyes, her gaze unwavering. “Specifically, the girl you were betrothed to all these years ago.”

a masterpost solely dedicated to notes and stuff part one: general stuff you should know

UPDATE: Part 2 is on! Check it out here!

Heyooo everyone!

Yeah I’m finally doing stuff hahaha :D I still have some masterpost requests pending, so I decided to make one of them. This one was requested by @information-learner, so I apologize for the long wait and here you go!

Note: I know there are other requests, but I still have to figure out what to put in there… sorry and stay tuned!

Okay, so as you know, notes (!!) are one of the most important things you do during your studies. There are many types of notes and methods of taking them and tbh, there is no right way to take them cause human everyone is different and has different needs and patterns of thinking yaaay i love differences okay let’s stop this weird intro and get into the actual masterpost *cough cough*

… oh and it will focus mostly on handwritten notes, but due to my recent experience with notes on laptop, I will mention that, too ^^

And it got quite long so consider this as part one of… right now it looks like three :D


Okay, so first of all. DON’T WRITE YOUR CLASS NOTES IN SENTENCES UNLESS IT’S A GIVEN DEFINITION. Never ever. And I’m gonna tell you why. Firstly, it’s too long. Straight up you’re wasting time with it and probably you’re gonna miss the next thing that your teacher says. And you don’t want that. So no. Secondly, as I said before, every person has a different thinking process. Which means that someone might think of and say a collocation of words that you would never use in any way. Which means that you write a sentence which might really confuse you in the future. So please do yourself a favor and write in bullet points.

Again, I’m emphasizing that I mean class notes. It actually is a good idea to come home, take out your notes and summarize them in sentences OF YOUR OWN aka how would you yourself say it. It is really a cool method to kinda develop your own thinking process, find out about phrases you are okay with using and also finding a way of explaining the thing by yourself and you develop a better understanding of the subject leading to actually thinking about it better and being able to analyze it. Which is great and let’s be real, this is gonna help you in your future studies, especially at uni.

The second thing I want to say is that you should choose a pen that you can write with comfortably. Writing a lot hurts, actually, but if you have a good pen, it won’t hurt that much. I know it’s quite difficult to find the perfect pen, but try everything, from the cheapest ballpoint pens to whatever ink pen or like anything, just make sure your hand won’t go crazy from hurting. And choose a notebook you like. Just to motivate yourself to actually write in it.

And lastly, colors. Brain needs them. I hugely recommend using colors in your notes, because let’s be real, colorless notes are dull and boring. Colors help you associate information and retain them better. But don’t overdo it. In general, it’s better to write your notes with a blue pen and use a maximum of three additional colors. Too much colors lead to confusion about what the hell is actually important on this page??? yeah okay. Anyway, this of course depends on the person, as there are people who need to use more colors in their notes. Generally speaking, you should have some kind of a color-coding system.

Okay this is getting really long so I decided to split it up and make a series! Wow :D so I’ll continue and I’ll add links to the rest of it so stay tuned everyone!!! 


Part 3: PAPER VS. LAPTOP? MATCH START! (coming soon)

Other masterposts by meee~~

Study tips masterpost

How to bullet journal masterpost

Study methods

How to kickstart your new semester


Black history month day 9: human rights activist, abolitionist, and speaker Sojourner Truth.

Sojourner Truth was born born Isabella “Bell” Baumfree around the year 1797. She was born into slavery in Ulster County, New York. In 1826, Truth escaped slavery with her infant daughter. Two years later she went back and sued for the custody of her son, a suit she actually won becoming the first black woman to win a case against a white man. She later described her escape “I did not run off, for I thought that wicked. But I walked off, believing that to be right.”

In 1843 she became convinced that God has called her to leave the city and go into the countryside “testifying the hope that was in her.”, and thus changed her name from Isabella Baumfree to Sojourner Truth. In 1851 at the Ohio women’s rights convention, Truth delivered her famous speech “Ain’t I a Woman?”. According to some reports, the speech known today is actually a rewritten variant of her original speech written in a stereotypical southern dialect, as in actuality the NY native Truth’s first language was Dutch and she spoke with a Dutch accent for the remainder of her life. During the Civil War Truth helped recruit forces for the Union army. She remained very active in abolition and other human rights causes, and despite her illiteracy, she toured around with conventions giving speeches and even meeting president Abraham Lincoln.
Cuba to Trump: US in no position to lecture
Responding President Trump's announcement Friday on rolling back steps to normalize relations, the Cuban government said the US is in no position to "lecture us."
By Miranda Green, CNN

“We have deep concerns by the respect and the guaranties of the human rights in that country, where there is a large number of cases of murder, brutality and police abuse, particularly against the African Americans; the right to live is violated as a result of deaths by firearms,” the statement read.

It went on to list a litany of concerns: racial discrimination, salary inequality between genders, the marginalization of immigrants and refugees from Islamic and other countries, Trump’s proposed wall on the southern border, his decision to pull out of the Paris climate accord, the imprisonment of enemy combatants at Guantanamo Bay, the killing of US and foreign citizens in drone attacks, the preface for and conduct of the wars in Iraq and other Middle Eastern countries, and estimates that the Republican health care bill would cause 23 million people to lose medical insurance.
Theresa May: I'll tear up human rights laws so we can deport terrorists
Theresa May will start work on toughening anti-terrorism measures on Friday if she is re-elected, she said last night, and promised she will not let human rights laws stand in her way.

One Conservative source said: “If human rights get in the way – we will do something about that. The threat is changing and we are.”

So, of course they’re back onto this. Been waiting for a renewed push, in light of the recent further excuses for it.

Meanwhile, this is how concerned they seem to be about human rights in general.

But, if you’re not a suspected terrorist or disabled person scrounger, there’s no cause for concern, right?

Going to the Women’s March on Washington with Harry Imagine

Or when Harry fangirls over feminist icons and chants feminist chants…

“You sure you’re going to be alright going to this?” you fidget with the zipper of your puffy winter jacket, zipping it up and down. “It’s just they’re predicting there will be nearly half a million people there.”

Harry puts his hand on yours, stopping your fidgeting. “I’ll be fine, it’s an important day, it’s an important issue, it’s important that I’m there.”

You look up at him and smile. Sometimes you can’t believe how lucky you are to love someone like him and have him love you back just as much and sometimes more.

Harry glanced down at his watch. “C’mon then, grab your sign, I don’t want to miss anything,” he gently taps your bum as you walk away to grab your sign. The night before you both had stayed up late, sharing a bottle of cabernet and painting your sign. You were quite proud.

“Trans rights = lgbtq rights = black rights = muslim rights = immigrant’s rights = women’s rights = human rights,” the sign said. Harry had contributed by drawing on hearts and inclusive gender signs inside flowers.

You hold the sign up above your head and smile wide at Harry as you walk towards him at the door.

“Utter perfection,” Harry murmurs, pulling his phone from the back pocket of his skinny black jeans. You start to bring your arms down to get ready to go. “Nuh uh, let me get a picture of ya like that, this is history I need to preserve.”

You roll your eyes but lift the sign back up and smile.

“Got it,” Harry pushes his phone back into his pocket and zips his coat up, pulling his hoodie up and sunglasses onto his face. “Can you tell I’m Harry Styles?” he laughs.

“Not at all,” you lie, bopping him on the nose. “Let’s go then,” you say, walking out the door and waiting for Harry to follow so you can lock the door to the flat.

You take the metro to the mall, the car nearly completely packed with women in pink hats. Harry stands close behind you as you both hold tightly to the metal pole in the aisle, every once in awhile he tugs on your braids beneath your black baseball cap and chuckles, knowing how much it annoys you.

You step out of the train and are immediately overwhelmed by the size of the crowd. Then Harry grabs your hand and your anxiety lessens immediately. You both exit the station and follow the stream of people towards the museums and the crowds.

You’re a few blocks from the metro station when you hear it. “Oh my god, that’s Harry Styles, Susan, That’s Harry,” a younger girl with a bright pink hat on screeched at her friend. They immediately approach you and you feel Harry’s hand tighten around yours.

“Hey there,” he smiles down at them. “I like your sign,” he points to the ‘women of color matter’ sign in one of their hands.

They both look at him in awe. “Can we please take a picture with you and our signs?”

“Of course,” he smiles brightly, then turns to you with an apologetic look. But you’re used to it and honestly don’t mind. Harry’s fans have never been rude to you, at least in person. Twitter is a completely different beast.

You take the iPhone from the girls with a smile and step back to fit them all in the shot. Harry flips off his sunglasses and puts up a peace sign as the girls beam and hold the signs in front of them. You take four pictures and have to admit they are adorable. You hand the phone back to the girls and step back into place tucked into Harry’s side.

“Thank you so much Harry, we’re so happy you’re here!” they grin.

“It’s an important cause, women’s rights are human rights,” he smiles. The girls grin even wider and run off. “I’m going to tie my hoodie a little bit tighter,” Harry mutters to you and you giggle, it’s impossible for him to disguise himself, especially with those curls poking out of his hood.

“C’mon, the speakers are starting soon,” you skip ahead of him, catching up to the crowds before coming to a stop next to the Vice TV bus. Harry chases after you, coming up behind you and grabbing you by the waist hoisting you in the air for a brief second forcing a rather high pitched screech from your mouth.

You keep walking until the crowd comes to a standstill. You’re next to a big screen but not close enough to see the actual stage. Harry stands behind you as the crowd tightens around the two of you, his feet on either side of yours.

Throughout the speakers you hold the sign high above your head and chant along with the crowd. Every once in awhile your arms get tired and the sign falls back and hits Harry in the head, making you giggle and Harry whine.

“It’s Angela Davis,” Harry gasped suddenly as a new speaker came on screen. “Holy fuck,” you look back at him and his look of awe and can’t help but grab his cheeks and kiss him hard.

“Black lives matter,” he shouts even louder than you.

“Say his name,” he yells passionately as Janelle Monae and the mothers of the slain boys perform and say their names. You even see a tear drip down his cheek as your own eyes water.

When the speeches seem to be coming to an end and the crowd turns to march to the White House, Harry grabs your waist and mutters in your ear, “we just witnessed history, I’m so glad I experienced it with you.”

After marching to the White House and screaming at the top of your lungs you are completely exhausted. You drop your head onto Harry’s shoulder and he carries the sign as you walk towards the nearest metro station.

Once you’re back to your Airbnb, you both crash onto the couch, nearly instantly falling asleep your head tucked into his shoulder and a big smile on your face.

arguenot  asked:

1/2 I keep thinking about the crew camping. Bitty would be great, obvi. How are his shirts still clean and good looking? How early did he have to wake up to make this huge of a breakfast? Only drawback would be that he insists on bringing cooler on cooler, and crates of cooking implements. No backpacking for him. Dex would be skilled, but unpleasant to be around. He would get the frustrating tent or camper set up, but he would snap at anyone who tried to help and he'd make everyone tense.

2/2 Shitty, Nursey and Chowder wouldn’t have a lot of skills but would have a lot of fun. Chowder would love to haul water!!! You boil it to wash dishes???? Wow!! Ransom studies for camping for a month beforehand. He and Holster make “camping shit” presentations. Ransom and Jack would be the prep people, buying/borrowing the gear and buying Bitty’s food for him. Also, Jack buys Bitty a swank RV and they road trip when they retire. They would be the most popular couple in the RV park, no doubt.

I love this?? Like the boys would be a mess. It would be so bad. But also amazing. Half of them are useless and the other half are really defensive about how they set up a tent or string the food over the tree. Bitty took Dex’s guitar out of the trunk to pack more food, Lardo took a cooler out to pack her easel, and Jack and Holster are arguing about cooking the burgers over a fire vs. the grill. The only person who accomplished anything in the first two hours of arriving is Chowder, who is having way too much fun chopping wood. Nursey already has twigs in his hair. By the time the sun sets nothing is done and they’re scrambling to get the tents set up in the dark, further impeded by the fact most of them are drunk at this point.  

The next morning the guys trickle out of their shabbily built tents, eat some breakfast, and Jack rounds up a few of them for a hike through the woods. Bitty, Lardo,and Nursey just laugh when Jack asks if they’re tagging along. Ransom goes but turns back about thirty minutes later when he realizes they’re about two wrong turns away from going full Lord of the Flies. Dex is demoted from guide when they stumble across a raccoon and he freaks out because “they’re vicious, okay? And have you seen their hands? They’re too human. It’s not right.” Shitty slows the whole process cause he’s stoned af and keeps stopping to point out trees and say “I’ve seen this tree before. We’re going in circles.” “All the trees look the exact damn same Shits- oh no yeah we’re going in circles.” 

By the time they get back to the campsite, Bitty Lardo Nursey and Ransom are drunk and giggling at the edge of the nearby river, Ransom with a long stick dangling out of his hands. “We’re fishing,” they explain. “We’re gonna live off the land. Look I found berries.” Twenty minutes later they’re all eating Pizza Pops.

Anyways the rest of the weekend goes a lot like that. Bonus point: tents are thin and no matter how quietly you think you can have sex in one, everyone will hear you. 

Guardian (IX)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jongdae / Baekhyun

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Electric-shock torture 

Word Count: 3,826

Summary:  You keep seeing the same guy everywhere you go. In the coffee shop, on the streets, in your philosophy class. It’s getting to the point where you think he’s stalking you - only to realize that maybe there’s something much more mysterious at play here. (AU: Chen is your guardian angel)

Keep reading


Carole Lombard is considered by many today to have been a “proto-feminist.” A strong advocate for progressive social, economic, and human rights causes, she was staunchly vocal about her views of what she considered “modern womanhood” in press interviews. At the time, the concept of feminism in society was primarily linked with what is generally considered to be its first wave in the 1910s, suffrage - and therefore, many often relegated its significance to an older generation.

Yet, Carole sought many occasions to bring the discourse back into the public conscious in the 1930s, particularly encouraging her female fans to to empower themselves. An ardent liberal who supported Roosevelt’s New Deal, she reconciled her political views with her societal perspective, calling for a “different social order brought about by a women’s economic independence.”  Additionally, she argued that women must “make marriage serve us. We cannot be enslaved by it.” She once commented in Movie Mirror, a fan magazine, that: “Look about you and you will see for the first time since the ancient rule of the Amazons, a colony of economically independent women. Here they are rulers of a fantastic kingdom where the wealth is a product of the women. Contrast such a state with other times. Women in kitchens, subservient, mental and physical slaves…with all that went with the so-called double standard contrived by the lordly male.” 

I will never understand “health care is a privilege and not a right” like. is not literally being left to die on the street of COMPLETELY preventable causes not a human right

it’s so funny cause the type of ppl to say shit like “health care is a privilege not a right” are the same types of people to get super upset and pissy about how “free speech is a human right”


10 Days of EOS 10 Day 4: Dream Crossover (The Penumbra Podcast + EOS 10)

Akmazian drummed his fingers against the bar top impatiently, glancing around him uncertainly. The bar he sat in was seedy, an sordid spot on one of the smaller Solar Outer Rim planets. Smoke swirled around him like mist above water, moving like a river with unseen creatures shifting beneath the surface. The people around him were dark shapes, mostly human in this sector which was an advantage for Akmazian.

He fidgeted with tattered red cloth wrapped around his wrist, a sign identifying him to his new supplier. The bartender raised an eyebrow at the cloth before hurriedly turning back to his drinks and the other customers slumped on the bar. Akmazian shifted on the uncomfortable stool, his eyes towards the old analogue clock which was almost ten minutes out.

It had been inconvenient to travel all the way to the Terrain system but after blowing up Oslo it had been necessary to find a smuggler who was completely unconnected to that particular ring. Therefore Akmazian sat in a sleazy bar waiting, feeling a thousand miles away from EOS 10 in more than just distance.

An elegant man lowered himself into the seat beside him, his movement spidery. His dark suit was elegantly tailored and tagged silver earrings dangling from his ears made him stand out among the tattered patrons. The bartender slipped a small glass in front of the man before his expensive-looking trousers even hit the stool. The man gave Akmazian a wide smile, flashing, uncomfortably familiar in more ways than one. Akmazian gave a tight smile in response.

“Mr Sherwood, I presume,” the man commented in a low tone, his voice smooth and silky. Akmazian frowned, struggling to identify the accent.
“Robin’s fine. You must be Caesar Chrome.”
“Pleasure to meet you Robin,” Caesar Chrome leant forward conspiratorially, “Now tell me. What’s your poison?”
“Thanks for the offer but I try not to drink while doing business” Akmazian said, eyeing the other man suspiciously. Accepting a drink from a potential-business partner was a sure fire way to wind up drugged and blackmailed in a dark alley. Not only that, there was something familiar about the face of his shape, something that didn’t sit right with Akmazian.

The man pouted and sighed. “I always find doing it professionally so boring but if you insist. If we aren’t going to drink, why don’t we walk? There’s a nice café just down the road. It’s more classy than here and the muffins are simply divine.”
Akmazian paused for a moment, chewing his lip. He wouldn’t trust a smuggler to begin with and the man’s haunting familiarity did not help. But still it wasn’t too late and the bar wasn’t really any safer than the bar if Chrome wanted to go after him.

“Fine,” he allowed, “Let’s go.”
He slipped off the bar stool and began shoving his way through the drunken crowd, keeping an eye on Caesar Chrome, walking beside him, moving effortlessly through the throngs of people who parted like the Red Sea.

“So, after a shipment of some rather rare Martian plants, I hear,” Chrome commented as they exited the swirling smoke of the bar and walked out into the cool night air.
“You already know that’s why I’m here,” Akmazian replied sharply, annoyed by the small talk. He’d never been one for manners and affectations in his illegal deals but this man seemed determine to make small talk. Chrome chuckled and shook his head.

The street lamps were malfunctioning, only a few of them flickered with a dull yellow light. Chrome glanced towards him, raising an eyebrow and Akmazian was once again struck with the sense of familiarity. He knew that face: the dark eyes and quirkier eyebrow. He had seen a picture or video or something; something long before his life had fallen apart. The cheekbones were sharper, the face lost the softness of youth, the dark hair shorter and slicked back rather than falling in a tangled curtain but the semi-mischievous gleam in the eyes and the slight smile was undeniably familiar but still nameless.

“So, tell me, Mr Sherwood,” said Chrome, his voice like satin, “What does the Destroyer of Worlds want with a Hyperion Lily?”

Akmazian stopped dead in his tracks, his hand flying to the gun he had hidden under his cloak. He gripped it tight, forcing his voice to stay pleasant as he replied.
“I see you did your research, Mr Chrome.”
“Well, your face is being broadcast across most of the Galaxy - as soon as I saw you I put two and two together,” said Chrome cheerfully. He grinned, looking almost cat-like, flashing unusually sharp canines as he did. “You’re a wanted criminal, Mr Sherwood.” The name dripped with sarcasm. “So tell me, why would you want a Hyperion Lily?”

That was when it hit Akmazian. The grin, the sharp canines, the barely-identifiable accent. He remembered Stephen, his old bunk-mate at the academy, muttering something about savages sharpening their teeth as they had flicked through photos on their holopads. The videos had been in a file on the freedom fighters of Brahma. That had been years ago, back when the Alliance was still thinking about intervening against the multiple human rights violations caused by the war. Before that project had been deemed impossible with out violent intervention and had been shut down, and Akmazian had been shipped off to the Adrarian Sector for unspecified reasons. A name matching the face came to him, one that was only really known through leaked information from Brahmese refugees’ hopeful murmurs and a some security footage smuggled out on a physical 21st century CD: Peter Nureyev.

“The real question is,” Akmazian drawled, returning the self-satisfied smile with one of his own, “What is the Angel of Brahma doing supplying them?”

(P.S. I kinda wanna write a follow-up, would anyone be interested?)