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I hate how some USamericans bash other americans with low hanging fruit in order to suck up to (white) europeans like they'll get a pat on the back and a proze for bejng "less american". Especially when they make sweeping statements that are just factually wrong.
"It's sad isnt it how when we go abroad and see fast food restaurants that feels like home :( we need to do better."
WE? Is the 'we' in the room with us? Bc I never grew up eating fast food and I associate it woth being AWAY from home only.
"Our food is so poisonous and evil and nasty it's why we are so gross and bad! We need to be more like (white) europe!"
We actually have one of the strictest food regulations systems, with the EU still eating and producing things we banned a long time ago (trans fat is a great example of this).
The reason we list so many "unpronouncable" ingredients is because by US law, EVERY SINGLE POSSIBLE ingredient must be listed. Including the ingredients IN the ingredients. It's why when you pick up a carton of strawberries theres long spelled out chemical names. Because they have to list the vitamins and minerals in it and anything it came into contact with (pesticides, wash, etc). It wont just say "flour". It has to lost every single step in "flour", from the milling and bleaching process. Europe gets imports FROM us. Their food isnt inherently healthier than ours just because its ✨️Europe✨️. This whole argument stems from white supremacy/colonization, I dont have the words or research to back it up but its so blatantly obvious. Bc why are we never bringing up African diets in this conversation? Some countries in Africa have foods that are so damn nutritious but where is the praise for them? What about the vast array of food in India? Or Mexico? Right. Because it ain't about health.
Dont even get me started on unnecessary GMO hate (if you've ever eaten a banana ever — thats all gmos. Bananas are technically extinct).
The only argument that stands is corn syrup, but even then I dont ever want to hear a europeans perspective on corn syrup in US food until they read up on the american agriculture system, food deserts, and why corn syrup became a staple and why it's taking so long to phase it out.
"Europeans cant just be expected to know everything about the US!" — great! Awesome! I actually never expect then to, nor do I think they should. They dont live here, it's not their problem. But if they want to come and argue about intricate systems, regulations, social constructs, and food from here, they should be expected to know what theyre talking about. I refuse to argue with a brit about corn syrup if they havent heard of Earl Butz and the long lasting effects he had on agriculture. I dont want to hear them talking about the sugar in cereal and why we give it to kids until they read about the fortification and enrichment mandates put in place by FDR and WHY they were necessary.
Like, we know the government is shit and there needs to be better changes. But for some reason they looooovvveee punching down on the poor and falling for propaganda that encourages the to see us as greedy little bastards instead of, ya know, human beings. And again, dont even get me started on the racism or the ableism that this encourages 😒
But dw, this and their online rhetoric completely enabled MAHA to take over and absolutely destroy what we DID have because, like most people seem to hate on most things for, it wasnt white/conservative enough. It didnt kill enough poor people yet. It didnt completely exclude those they hated. It didnt starve enough people to make them look how they want them to.
But try and point that out and they get all defensive and say that it's "just about health" and call americans gross names. I just hate that at the butt end of the joke it's always vulnerable groups and never the actual bad guys lol.
Arirang is such a good house cleaning album. This is an accurate depiction of how I look by the time FYA comes on. My kids are going to know this album as THE cleaning album, body to body comes on and they scatter for safety
・❥・⠀PREMISE ⠀⠀፧ In one night, everything changed—no warning, no return, no chance to comprehend the horror that would become my reality.
I will forever be haunted by the nightmares, the memory of standing frozen, powerless, as she used her last breath to speak the word that split the world in two:
-Run.-
She said, and I did. I never truly stopped.
Featuring⠀werewolf!jungkook x f!reader : ̗̀➛ genre thriller, suspence, horror (at times), fiction, angst, enemies to lovers, yearning, soulmates, AU : ̗̀➛ wc⠀4.1k : ̗̀➛ warnings: violence, blood, mental illness, among a lot of other triggering topics to come, this is a thriller afterall.
: ̗̀➛ Author's note: Guuuys it's been rough out here, I am truly so sorry for abandoning this project but I'm back to it now thanks to some kind words for you guys! I'm truly grateful just knowing someone cares, so thank you so much! Read (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5), check my masterlist.
The noises—those gurgling sounds as she choked on her own blood.
The fire sucking the air out of the room.
The knock on the door forces me back to reality. I stare at myself in the mirror, hyperventilating, pupils blown wide, mouth dry.
My fingers hurt from gripping the counter. The bandages on my arms are stained with blood, and the veins climbing up my shoulders and neck are tainted black by the venom. I straighten my posture.
-Y/N?
Yoongi's voice calls softly from the hallway.
-One second!
I rush back to the bedroom and pull on a long-sleeved shirt before opening the door.
As per usual, he holds a tray with my dinner and some medicine in a small bowl on the side, a sympathetic smile on his face.
-Everything alright? Want some company this time?
I take the tray from his hands but hesitate for a moment. The sound of laughter and conversation from the first floor distracts me.
-Actually… could I have dinner with you tonight?
He blinks, clearly taken aback. He wasn't expecting me to accept the offer.
-Yes, of course. I'll grab myself a plate and come back.
-No, I mean… may I join you for dinner out there?
For the past three days, I've been avoiding everything. All these people. This reality. Anything that could force me to recognize Yoongi's stories as true. But I am not safe with myself anymore. Any moment of silence, every time I close my eyes, the poison whispers in my ears. My mind overflows with memories of that night. The nightmares creep up on me even when I'm awake.
His posture changes, as if he'd suddenly grown a few inches taller. A small smile threatens to rise on his lips.
-Yes, please. We'd be honored to have you.
As we make our way downstairs, I take notice of the people: small children, teenagers, adult men and women, all bearing the same embroidered 8-point star on the upper arms of their uniforms. They do not resemble one another physically, but they all share the same posture, the same precise rhythm to their steps, and the same attentive eyes.
On the first floor, they move with surprising efficiency, carrying plates, pots, and utensils, beelining for the glass doors that lead to the back garden, where long tables stretch all the way to the lake, illuminated by an enormous bonfire in the center of the snow-covered grass.
I freeze at the sight of it.
The flames climbing into the air, licking at the night sky. The roar of the wind. The smell of burning wood.
Something swells in my throat.
-Here, let's find seats by the lake.
Ever so gently, he nudges me forward with the tips of his fingers between my shoulder blades. We make our way toward the tables on the left, circling the bonfire until we reach those at the very back. As per my request, I sit in the corner, my back to the fire, facing the frozen lake ahead.
A particular voice cuts through the crowd, and I immediately snap to attention, searching until I find him.
Golden hair, honey skin, and that boxy smile.
Taehyung is standing a couple of tables ahead and to the right, deep in conversation with a group of women. They laugh loudly, and he doesn't notice me before walking back toward the house, disappearing from my line of sight.
I haven't seen him since the day I woke up.
-Kiddo, your food is getting cold. -Yoongi reminds me as he busies himself filling his own plate.
Slowly, every seat is occupied by the Faleyir children. They fill their plates with stew and game meat and bread and pies. Their cups overflow with wine, beer, and fresh juice. The conversation is endless and loud and so lively, so filled with love and happiness, that it is almost impossible to forget these people are, at all times, prepared for war.
At one point, people begin to surround us too. Our table fills with warriors wearing white skin-tight uniforms, a stark contrast to the black ones worn by everybody else. They address Yoongi with quiet respect, sitting upright by his side as they make friendly conversation.
-When will Lena visit? It's been a while! -A young man seated to my left asks. He has large brown eyes, and his right hand bears a thin, pale scar.
My cheeks burn as I recognize him as the man I assaulted with a syringe.
-I've been trying to get her to visit more often, but she says she'll go insane with the way I've been organizing the inventory and end up moving back.
-Sorry, who's Lena? -I lean forward, a mouthful of bread.
-She's my wife. -The pride in his voice doesn't go unnoticed. He briefly looks up from his food. -She was the Medical General before me, but when we got pregnant with our youngest, she decided to leave the den and move back to Caelorth until our oldest turns six. She wanted them to have a sense of normalcy before training starts.
-She's one hell of a captain -The woman on my left remarks and they all silently shake their heads in agreement.
-So you travel often to see them?
-As much as I can. I can take you next time I go, if we get clearance.
-It's beautiful this time of year. -The young man says, smiling, his eyes glowing. -You should definitely see the Winter Festival. It's quite the party.
I nod and offer him a shy smile, but Yoongi's choice of words echoes in my head.
Clearance.
So much for "you're not a prisoner here," huh?
My thoughts are interrupted by the rustle of people standing abruptly. It isn't exactly in unison, but it comes remarkably close to perfect synchronization. I'm left speechless, seated as everyone rises into an upright posture, right hands pressed over their chests in a claw-like gesture, all facing the château beyond the bonfire.
I turn in my seat and, sheepishly, stand as well, my hands hanging awkwardly at my sides.
-At ease. Sit down.
That grave, annoyed voice washes over the crowd and, as prompted, people take their seats and return to their conversations as though absolutely nothing happened.
I linger, trying to understand what to do with myself.
That's when I see him.
Our eyes meet as the flames part between us for a split second. His are as dark as the night itself.
I'm caught off guard by the weight of his presence; a dam of thoughts, lethality, and ferocity crashing against a controlled posture and a carefully studied expression.
I turn away and sink back into my seat, my chest heavy with a mixture of fear and anger.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch them move toward a larger table on the right. Taehyung walks at his side, looking solemn, a small delegation of what appear to be other generals following behind them. They sit in the center and serve themselves in silence.
Dinner stretches on, and for the remainder of it, I can't help stealing glances at them.
At one point, Taehyung and the intimidating man exchange a few words. Then Taehyung turns to an older man seated to his right. They share concerned looks before both standing abruptly.
They hurry inside.
People begin clearing the tables. They carry their plates back into the house, clean up after themselves, and, working together, move the heavy tables to the side of the château. The bonfire burns more quietly now, as though disappointed to be left unattended.
Yoongi and I head toward the porch. As we pass the man's table, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Yoongi pauses to give a few instructions to passing medical lieutenants and, distracted, I find myself watching the fire dance until every conversation around me fades into white noise.
Y/N…
The winter whispers.
A soft, feminine cry in the distance.
Child…
Wake up…
The fire creates sigils.
I'm enchanted by the way they glow and die.
He… needs… you.
I take a few steps toward it.
She's… coming…
My heart gallops as something grabs my shoulder and I spin around so quickly I nearly lose my balance.
Yoongi's concerned eyes scan me from head to toe.
-Y/N? Are you okay?
I bite the inside of my cheek and blink several times before finding my voice.
-Yes. Yes, I'm good.
-Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?
Since I came back from the coma, Yoongi has spent every night in the chair by my study table, reading and taking notes until I can no longer fight sleep.
Whenever I wake in the middle of the night from a nightmare, gasping through a panic attack, he's always there. He offers me water and reminds me to breathe until I can rest again.
In the mornings, he's already gone.
I'd like to give him a break tonight.
Maybe if I tire myself out before bed…
-Can we take a walk around the lake? Maybe you can tell me more about Lena and your daughters… It seems we don't know much about each other.
-Of course, kiddo.
We walk carefully along the edge of the lake. Yoongi explains that, despite its calm surface, the water is actually quite dangerous. Creatures called Devosi, a type of water demon, build caves beneath it and create whirlpools powerful enough to drag people under. They've been trying to get rid of them for the past twenty years with no success.
With the forest guarding our backs, we settle onto the damp grass on the opposite shore. The château stands in the distance, imposing and bathed in warm light, like a beacon of hope in the darkness.
He lights a cigarette and, as promised, begins talking about Lena and their daughters, Erin and Lexie.
It's impressive to watch someone so quiet come alive this way.
-She's my Lunvayir.
-What language is that?
-It's called Eylic. It's an ancient Faleyir dialect. Not many people speak it nowadays. I myself don't know much of it apart from a few expressions. -He brings the cigarette to his lips. -Taehyung is fluent in it, if you ever get curious.
-What does it mean? Lunva…
-Lunvayir. "The one who answers the soul's call." -He blows out smoke and looks up at the stars. -The Faleyir believe that the soul is divided into four parts: Lun, Lunvayir, Lunaris, and Yir.
Lun is the part that belongs to you. It holds your dreams, your fears, who you are.
Lunvayir is who your heart loves. It is not a symbolic term, but a literal physical and emotional bond. It is somewhat rare to find your Lunvayir, as they do not choose them -it is something that simply happens, he explains. -But when they do find them, they mate for life, for being apart is simply unbearable.
-Wow, that's… that's so beautiful. How do you two manage? With the distance and all?
He chuckles.
-The issue isn't physical distance, but emotional distance. The soul only aches for what it cannot have. We are fine because I know she's mine, and I'm hers.
-What about the other two parts?
-Lunaris is also a form of soulbind, but it is born from a sacred oath only Alpha Stars can take. -His voice is hoarse from the smoke. He pauses, searching for the right words. -"Shall you never stand alone in darkness, for wherever your shadow goes, mine shall follow. May the wind carry your howls to me. May my breath impel you in battle. Your kin are my kin, my hunt your hunt. And when you tread your path to Soeyar, I shall plead for Zytarr's patience."
We sit in silence for a moment as I absorb the words.
-I butchered it, but you get the point, right? -He flicks the cigarette butt into the snow, where it dies with a sad sizzle.
"May Zytarr be patient."
A phrase I'd heard a couple of times echo through the château, spoken so casually that its meaning slipped past me.
Faleyir's children understood death as Soeyar and Zytarr's sentence: destiny and time, the only forces standing between life and death. Their fates were so inevitable that, in their humble prayers, they didn't ask for escape from death, only for the God of Time to stay his hand a little longer.
-So… you're saying they're… soulmates?
The word feels strange in my mouth, so I drag it out, hoping he'll complete the thought for me, but he doesn't, he simply watches me, curious to see where my mind will go.
-No, not like soulmates. More like kindred spirits. -He pauses. -Jungkook and Taehyung's souls are bound together by an oath to protect the den. A shared burden. A pledge to fight and lead and, if necessary, die together.
-It's all so… so profound.
-Well, kiddo, we are talking about souls after all. They are complex things.
-What about Yir?
-Yir means "the star." It's our duty, our purpose. Faleyir created us with the intent of fighting the dark forces of the abyss. He made us warriors and gave us the star as a reminder of why we are here: to break through the dark.
It is beautiful. Every part of it is beautiful and ancient and larger than life.
And so utterly unrelatable that it hurts.
I wish I could understand it. I wish this was normal, familiar even, but instead it only reminds me how much of an alien I am in this place. How little I belong in this world.
My lower lip trembles as I force the words out.
-Yoongi… I'm sorry, but… when can I go home?
He falls into a dreadful silence, his lips pressed into a thin line and he doesn't look up.
Each passing second destroys something inside me.
And then it dawns on me.
I stand abruptly, shaking my head.
He rises too.
-I'm sorry, Y/N… I truly am. You can't.
-No.
-I'm sorry, kiddo.
-Don't call me that.
-I wish there were another way, Y/N, but there isn't. If you go back, not only will you die, every mundane you know will be at risk too.
-You are lying. You—
My chest tightens.
The world spins.
All I can see is Morgan.
Morgan's eyes. Morgan's smile. Morgan's blood on my hands.
-There's a thing we call the Veil. It's the membrane that separates this world from the Underworld. The Veil is what allows humans to live unaware of us. It masks their perception, shapes their visions into something they can comprehend. That's why they don't see sorcery or demons.
-Stop. -I'm lightheaded. My heart is pounding. -Just stop.
-Once someone breaks through the Veil, it can never be restored. They will always be able to access the Underworld, and the Underworld will always be able to access them. Our presence, your presence, would weaken the barrier between dimensions, making it possible for those aberrations, those demons, to cross into the human world.
She died because of me.
If I hadn't been there, she'd be safe.
She'd be alive.
My legs fail me and I stumble forward. My stomach twists at the memory of him.
I almost called him that night.
Jin.
He could have died too and it would have been my fault.
I curl up, hiding my face, covering my ears.
-I can never see him again?
My voice is nothing more than a weak, pathetic whine between sobs.
Yoongi kneels beside me and rubs a hand across my back.
-I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly am… but that's the only way they can be safe.
-That's… they must be— He must be looking for me!
-Their minds will be clouded for a couple of weeks, but the Veil will alter their memories. They won't remember you as you are. They'll remember a different person, with another face, another name. The Veil will slowly fill in the gaps and, eventually, the person you are will be erased from their minds.
I'm shaking uncontrollably.
This feeling is indescribable.
There were times in my life when I wished for death. But in this moment, I feel truly dead. Worse than dead.
I feel erased.
My past, my present, my future, scratched from the books.
I can never go back to the way things were. There's nothing to go back to, there never was. I can never be just a girl again, I can never go to college, I can never dream of getting a degree, I can never have the privilege of worrying about trivial, mundane things.
I can never see Jin again.
One moment we're talking about souls, the next, it feels like mine has been ripped out of me.
-I'm sorry. -He whispers.
-Get off. -I pant, beating a fist against my chest, trying to steady my breathing.
When he reaches for me, I shove him away and struggle to my feet on trembling legs.
-GET OFF OF ME!
I want to destroy something. I want to see the consequences of my anger. I want to feel my own existence. I need this pain to go somewhere.
I turn and drag myself toward the château.
Eyes follow me as I sprint through the living room and climb the stairs. With every hallway I turn down, my steps grow heavier, until I reach the corridor leading to my bedroom and stop dead in my tracks.
He's there.
That man.
Standing a few steps away from my door, hands buried in his pockets. He raises his head the moment I stop.
Expressionless, eyes as dark and indecipherable as ever.
My heart roars at the memory of how he stood over my suffering.
"She'll do without it, or she's not worth saving in the first place."
-You.
My own voice sounds foreign to my ears, so filled with rage. My tears are gone, replaced by something cruel and ugly.
-Why didn't you do it? Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?
I'm walking as fast as my blood is pumping. He doesn't move, doesn't blink, his eyes remain locked on mine.
I collide with him, shoving at his chest with all my strength, but he doesn't even lose his balance. He doesn't even take his fucking hands out of his pockets.
That only feeds my anger.
-Why drag this shit out? Why save me if I was going to lose everything anyway?
I punch his chest.
His stomach.
I shove him again and again.
-Why do you enjoy watching me go through hell? Why? Do you think I chose this? Do you think I asked to be saved?
The door to my left swings open.
Through blurred vision, I see Taehyung.
His mouth hangs open in shock, his hair messy from lying down.
In that brief moment of distraction, Jungkook grabs my upper arms so tightly I can't move and pulls me against him.
So close that all I can see are his eyes hovering above me.
I'm hyperaware of his breathing, the way he clenches his jaw, the way his palms burn even through my clothes. The silence feels dangerous, impossibly heavy.
-Compose yourself, soldier.
No screaming, no anger, just coldness. His stern words cut straight through me. My stomach drops, fresh tears burn behind my eyes.
After another long pause, he looks up at Taehyung and slowly releases me. -Are my orders no longer a priority to you, brother?
The hurt in Taehyung's eyes is so palpable you'd think Jungkook had struck him across the face.
-I… I'm sorry, brother.
His arms immediately wrap around me, turning me away from Jungkook. I bury my face in his shirt, a fresh wave of sobs tearing through me. He holds me as if he can glue all the broken pieces back together.
As if he can shield me from myself.
-Go.
He commands and Taehyung nods, his chin brushes the top of my head.
He pulls me inside, closes the door, and presses me gently against it, his arms still around me, grounding me.
I hear footsteps fading into the distance as my cries fill the room. My face trembles against Taehyung's chest as he speaks softly.
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They are submitting the wheelchair request through insurance, so fingers crossed they dont put up too much of a fight on it 😭 Got to drive it around the hospital a d almost cried when an older ot lady cheered me on. I wont get it probably until the fall, so I'm going to look into a walker or a cane for the bts concerts and borrowing a push chair for going around the city. I think I saw people say there were lockers on the upper floors for devices I cant use in at my seat? Ill have to look into it. A rollator with a seat on it will be nice for lines and preconcert events, but it cant fit at my seat. Gah. I might just have to tough it out and hope I dont fall right off the balcony LMAO
From the Nashville Zoo’s fb page! Here’s the petition, please please please take a moment to add your name (even if you’re not from Nashville!). If you are from Tennessee, contact your representatives and make it clear that the people do not want this data center. This is an AZA accredited zoo which is home to several species of critically endangered animals, we NEED to protect it. Make your voice heard!
1. The court holds Google responsible for statements made by its AI, considering them Google's statements (search engines have limited liability for results in their engine as they're the words of other sites/companies/people), meaning when their AI lies/hallucinates they're liable for the defamation/harm resulting from those statements.
2. Google's defense that customers are generally aware of the lack of reliability and are responsible for fact checking was dismissed. As the court pointed out, that would "significantly diminish" AI Search's stated purpose and it can't be distinguished from Google's business practices/statements as a search tool.
3. Studies have found about 91% of Google's everyday AI responses are accurate, leaving millions of searches per HOUR with potential liability for falsehoods. 56% of correct responses weren't supported by the sources the AI listed. Both of which mean Google is now liable for a LOT more AI "errors."
4. Google was held liable for 80% of court costs in this case and this precedent is expected to reverberate around the world. This is a massive shift from the 3rd-party search provider role Google has previously played and it comes right as they've tied ALL searches to their AI search.
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the online identity and gimmick-ifying of autism is so odd. I'm diagnosed with autism and yet I barely identify with any stuff I see about it anymore. It feels like autism is being rebranded as the Silly Guy Disorder that gives you smart and beautiful hyperspecific interests. it's not that I mind silly jokes or being lighthearted about being autistic- but when the entire social movement is based around marketing us this way, I just can't help but feel isolated from it. it feels like I'm not the right kind of autistic. I'm not marketable and digestible to common audiences, and therefore I am discarded by the movement in the name of progress and acceptance. it feels foul.
i think people are starting to confuse class analysis with bioessentialism. like... no not all men do this, but Men as a constructed social class do do this. that's still okay to say. that is regular material analysis of the world around us.
i hate that when you try and look up shit for writing purposes it starts linking suicide hotlines and addiction advice articles like bro i just wanna know the information im not killing myself i promise. now tell me what i wanna know
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I don't know who my intended audience is here, so whoever needs to hear this, I am begging you to learn to participate in conversations that are about things you aren't interested in.
Part of socializing and having friends is being a good listener even when you don't actually give a shit about the subject.
Your are hurting other people's feelings when you bluntly respond with "Anyway..." and then change the topic.
It can not always be about your preferred topic.
You are being rude. Yes, even if you are neurodivergent. You can be both autistic and rude.
if you decide to become a police officer then that outweighs any other marginalised identity you can rustle up like. not sorry, who asked you to willingly become a pig
I have heard of black people warning their kids that the race of a police officer is cop and you should not expect solidarity from them. The same applies to other types of minorities.
The sexuality of a police officer is cop.
The gender of a police officer is cop.
When you become the enforcer and protector of capital, you are making the deal to be slightly favored by the system over others like you, in exchange for being its servant. Your solidarity is with the system that you serve, even if it hates you.
If you want solidarity with those the system hates, you cannot be the system's servant and defender.
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