Sith!reader x Obiwan, Ahsoka, Kix, Grievous (NON romantic for all of them) gn!reader
Blood and Marrow đŞđ˘
Warnings: Needles, improper conditions for prisoners, bone marrow stealing, surgery without anesthetic, torture essentially, kidnapping, in-world curse word, parental death, ivâs
Gn!reader, teen!reader, Rex x reader, Kix x reader (both platonic)
To Be Held đŞđ˘
Warnings: Angst, blood, and wounds
Gn!reader, Tech x reader (romantic [ig it could be read as platonic?])
Marvel
Rats đ˘đŞ Part 2 đ˘âď¸
Warnings: dehumanization, torture, electrocution, unethical experiments, Hydra trash party
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If your characters have specific skillsets, consider how you could apply them in other ways. It could make for an unexpected resolution to a conflict but also just a comedic scene.
Some examples:
knife expert -> cutting vegetables for dinner (very fast but the sizes may be all screwed up the first time)
investigator -> finding out who keeps leaving dirty dishes in the sink (and other domestic controversies)
physical strength -> designated jar opener
acrobat -> changing lightbulbs, hanging up paintings, ... anything where you would otherwise need a ladder
necromancer -> gardening. plant died? no problem.
charismatic and persuasive -> on duty for handling difficult dinner guests
Also consider playing with the exact opposite: you're good at x, so everyone expects you to be good at y, but for some reason you aren't and it is hilarious.
Never be afraid to recycle an idea you had for a project you already completed. Sometimes ideas really are just that good and deserve to be used more than once.
Fascinating how what's considered feminine and what's considered masculine can change over time. The rebranding of being a horse girl into being a stereotypical feminine girly trait needs to be studied.
Look at classic children's novels. As recently as the 50s and early 60s, being obsessed with horses as a girl was depicted as strange and tomboyish, and the very concept of being obsessed with horses from early childhood and loving toy horses and desperately wanting your own horse being a "little girl thing" and not a "little boy thing" would send someone from the 1800s and earlier into a coma.
There's maybe a point to be made here somewhere about how when keeping and riding horses stopped being necessary to the functioning of society and became a more "frivolous" thing, it was rapidly rebranded as silly and girly and for women, but what do I know.
i wrote a paper in my masculinity studies class in college about this exact phenomenon, specifically about how high heeled shoes started as a practical way for Persian cavalry to keep their feet on their stirrups, then likely due to that association, became a popular fashion item and status symbol among the upper classes of Europe, before the Great Male Renunciation of the 18th-19th centuries, when men started shunning opulence in favor of utility, leaving them as a fashion item for women instead.
I've joked that the two genders are Aesthetic and Utility before but thats just kinda the case
My woke take, as someone who has worked in both a public library and a school library, is that we desperately need both more books that are at a higher reading level but a less mature subject matter, and more books that are at a lower reading level but a more mature subject matter, because 8 year olds who are advanced readers are still 8 year olds and don't want to read about graphic violence and torture, and teens and adults who have learning difficulties or who are just later readers for whatever reason are still teens and adults and don't want to read about Billy the Bunny going to school or whatever the hell.
Shoutout to people in the notes also mentioning people learning the language, I should've mentioned that really, given that I've been stuck reading German picture books myself while learning German.
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Being a young adult is so strange. You enter a coffee shop. The 20 year old girl waiting behind you cried all night because she just came to a new city for university and she feels so alone. That 27 year old guy over there works a job he is overqualified for, he lives with his parents and wants to move out but doesn't know what to do about it. That one 24 year old dude already has a car, a house, and a job waiting for him once he graduates thanks to his dad's connections. The 26 year old barista couldn't complete his higher education because he has to work and take care of his family. The 28 year old girl sitting next to you has no friends to go out with so she is texting her mother. That couple (both 25 years old) are married and the girl is pregnant. The 29 year old writing something on her laptop has realized that she chose the wrong major so she is trying to start all over. We are not alone in this, but we are actually so alone. Do you feel me
[image description: screenshot of tumblr user just-andie rebloging from spell-cleaver. They added tags reading "#this is the tumblr coffee shop au of the piano man". Below the tags are the option to reblog, or view post. /end description]
Mycoprotein is fucking cool, vat-grown meat is fucking cool, believe me I am fucking down for figuring out efficient calories and Iâm interested in attempting to reduce or eliminate animal agriculture but you wouldnât want me to sneak-feed you cricket flour, you donât get to sneak-feed me your stuff.
I wouldnât mind if you snuck-fed me cricket flour, actually. If cricket flour is indistinguishable from regular flour then sure, go for it.
I really donât know what the initial gripe is about, though. The anonymous person you quote is not trying to sneak-feed you anything. They outright say âmeatless alternative.â Is your problem that they may have GMOs? I genuinely have no idea what your complaint is, because youâre talking about people sneak-feeding you meatless stuff but your pics are all about GMO corn starch or whatever.
I have celiac disease and a corn allergy and a relative who wanted to try to pass off impossible burger as ground beef to prove how good meat alternatives are.
I donât care about âgmoâ and I dont care about the fact that itâs âtextured proteinâ I care about âcornâ and âwheatâ and I care that people without food allergies rarely know how inescapable some of those allergens are.
âOh, I checked the ingredients, it doesnât have cornâ
Okay but does it have maltodextrin, modified food starch, xanthan gum, caramel coloring, dextrose, or glucose syrup?
If it does have any of those things do they specifically say âfrom potatoes,â âfrom tapioca,â âfrom cane sugarâ or âfrom riceâ?
If it didnât did you check the manufacturerâs website? If that didnât say did you call the manufacturer?
Sometimes Iâll use almond or coconut flour as a replacement for wheat flour when Iâm cooking. I do not try to pretend that my alternate flour chocolate chip cookies are wheat flour chocolate chip cookies because most people donât expect to run into coconut or almond when they pick up a chocolate chip cookie. I donât try to hand them to people, wait for them to eat a cookie, and say âhah, bet you didnât think gluten free cookies could taste good, huh?â because if I did that to someone with a severe allergy it could kill them, but also because people should have a say in what theyâre eating.
Iâve got no problem with beyond beef or impossible burger describing their products as meat alternatives, Iâve got no problem with GMOs or the fact that quorn is made out of a heavily engineered protein. Thatâs all very neat, actually.
But I do have a problem with people trying to sneakily serve meat alternatives without considering that doing so is shitty for a number of reasons.
Also, insect protein can cause severe reactions to people with shellfish allergies, so thatâs another reason not to feed cricket flour to people without telling them.
And by severe reactions to shellfish/insect protein they mean ANAPHYLAXIS.
Thatâs medical speak for:
IT CAN KILL YOU.
Anaphylaxis can cause you to have difficulty breathing or stop breathing at all. It can cause a critical drop in blood pressure or send you into medical shock.
Never sneak ingredients into someoneâs food. Especially if you know they have dietary restrictions, but even if you donât know. They may not have told you.
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Every time I'm forced by circumstance to hand-sew something, I remember a fairytale I once read. There are lead-up shenanigans as the humble protagonist helps small animals and meets the princess and all that, but in the climax, the princess rigs a contest for her hand by setting her own task: sew her a dress in a single night.
The noble suitors, who have never sewn a thing in their lives, sabotage themselves by their own ambitions: they choose difficult fabrics to work with and cut huge, elaborate patterns and select gems and pearls and beads to sew onto it, and snip such long bits of thread that they lose time detangling their stitches, and ultimately resort to pinning bits together as they run out of time, so that their offerings initially look beautiful and flashy, but when the princess tries them on they stick her with pin ends and fall apart as she moves.
The humble protagonist uses a very simple pattern without embellishments and sews using short lengths of thread (snipped off and threaded for him by little birds of course) which don't tangle and therefore save time. His dress is plain by contrast, but holds together and the princess is able to move freely in it, and so he wins the contest and her hand.
I particularly think about the bit about threading the needle with shorter lengths of thread, needing to tie off more often but avoiding tangles and thereby saving time.
I then ignore that piece of wisdom passed down through who knows how many years and proceed to cut the longest damn length of thread I can manage because I hate tying off beginning or ending knots and I will not subject myself to more of that even if it does mean more tangles along the way.
I think their big problem there is that âdisabilityâ means a wide variety of things, with a wide variety of different problems and levels of functionality. You canât say âthis thing is good for disabled peopleâ or âthis thing is bad for disabled peopleâ because most things are going to be good for some disabled people and bad for others. Whatâs inaccessible to me, as a person with a chronic pain condition, balance problems, and an ankle-fusion surgery, isnât going to be the same as whatâs accessible to, say, the woman in the article who has nystagmus. She can ride a bicycle. I canât.
Iâd love it if they specified what âdisabled people who qualifyâ means when theyâre talking about various programs in different cities, because anyone whoâs had to sign up for any kind of program where you have to be âDisabled Enoughâ in some way knows people can fall through the cracks.
For instance, in my area, you donât qualify for reduced transit fare or paratransit if your disability is âcaused by obesity, or alcohol, or an illegal-drug-related-problemâ. Mine isnât, but Iâve been unable to access paratransit services or a reduced-fare pass because Iâm disabled and ALSO fat, regardless, because IN PRACTICE what this means is that the people who process the forms saw the assorted diagnoses listed on the form my doctorâs office filled out, and went âAh, your disability must be Because Youâre Fatâ and rejected it.
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[ID: The first image is a movie poster for the Dreamworks movie Home, showing Oh, a Boov (a wide, short, purple creature), Tip, a black girl, and a calico cat. The rest of the images are screenshots of sections of The True Meaning of Smekday, by Adam Rex.
In a ridiculously short amount of time, the Boov determined that humans were unwilling to mix peacefully into their culture. They pointed out all the people who fled instead of welcoming their new neighbors, even those whose homes had been taken outright.
Captain Smek himself appeared on television for an official speech to humankind. (He didn't call us humankind, of course. He called us Noble Savages of Earth. Apparently we were all still living on Earth at this point.)
"Noble Savages of Earth," he said. "Long time have we tried to live together in peace." (It had been five months.) "Long time have the Boov suffered under the hostileness and intolerableness of you people. With sad hearts I now concede that Boov and humans will never to exist as one."
I remember being really excited at this point. Could I possibly be hearing right? Were the Boov about to leave? I was so stupid.
"And so now I generously grant you Human Preservesâgifts of land that will be for humans forever, never to be taken away again, now."
I stared at the TV, mouth agape. "But we were here first," I said pathetically.
The tent was strung with white Christmas lights and packed with people, all facing a stage on one end. And on the stage stood a redheaded man in a wifebeater with a Viking tattooed on his chest. People were booing him.
"Shut up!" the redhead was saying. "I have the stage! All I'm saying is, now that we've all had to leave our real homes, we got a chance to get America right! There can be a place for the Saxon Americans, and a place for the coloreds, and a place forâshut up!"
"So every place has some kind of leader?" I asked. It had all happened so fast.
"Sure. Most of them are former state governors, or senators, or whatever. The president runs a little town called Rye."
"Just a little town?"
"Yes..." said Mitch. "He's not very popular anymore, because of the invasion. People assume it was his fault somehow. But we have to have leaders. We have to have government."
"I guess," I said.
"Daniel Landry's district is far south of here," he said, "on some former Indian land."
"Indian land? Like a reservation?"
"That's right."
"Is this Dan guy an Indian?"
"I don't think so, no. I'm pretty sure he's white. He wasn't a governor or anything before, but he's really rich, so I imagine he's a good leader."
"Uh-huh. But he's white," I said. "The Indians elected a white guy?"
"Well...I don't know. I imagine all the other people elected him. It's mostly white folks living on the reservation now."
I frowned. "And the Indians are okay with this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well...it was a reservation," I said. "It was land we promised to the Native Americans. Forever."
Mitch looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. "But...we needed it," he said.
"Mr. Hinkel," said the Chief, jerking his head toward the sleeping man. "He thinks Indians like me ought to live somewhere else. Likes to tell me about it a lot."
I didn't really want to talk about Mr. Hinkel.
"Well, maybe they'll let him go soon."
"Doubt it," said the Chief. "Got beat up pretty good by someone who thinks gay people like him ought to live somewhere else."
The last excerpt from the book is in comic format, divided into four main panels. The first is captioned, "2,000 (two thousand) years ago - Many schools closed by the HighBoov, because Money is Needed Elsewhere. Boov are told not to worry about learning unimportant things. Boov are told to learn one useful thing that may be done over and over again and give their life meaning. HighBoov devise clever tests to find which Boov should be taught more, and which Boov should not be taught because Money is Needed Elsewhere." Boov are shown doing things like guarding, serving food, and taking care of children.
The second panel is captioned, "1,150 (one thousand, one hundred and fifty) years ago - Certain Boov who were taught many things announce that industry is polluting the waters of Boovworld." Boov in uniforms point to a chart of their world and gesture to something outside a window, presenting this information to other Boov in fancy outfits. "These scientist predict that the oceans soon will no longer be able to sustain life, unless things are changed."
The third panel is captioned, "1,149 (one thousand, one hundred and forty-nine) years ago - HighBoov declare that these warnings of pollution cannot be proven, so therefore nothing should be changed. The scientist Boov who gave these warnings are declared evil-evil that they should call our God unclean. These Boov are named the Forgotten and sent onto land into exile forever. Some of them die of asphyxiation. Most don't." A line of Boov trudge out of water onto land.
The fourth panel is captioned, "1,003 (one thousand and three) years ago - God dies of asphyxiation." There are many skeletons with lots of darkness in the background.
Plain text: "1,003 years ago, God dies of asphyxiation" End ID]
