Meaning of the letter “A” when appearing in LGBT[…]+ acronyms:
Asexual: 95.4% of respondents, 1936 total
Aromantic: 80.7% of respondents, 1639 total
Agender: 66.7% of respondents, 1353 total
Ally: 13.9% of respondents, 282 total.
I’m just posting this here for my aces and aros who are feeling down on themselves and defeated tonight. Remember that nine out of ten people support you and that the current loudest voices are not those of the majority.
it’s sometimes hard to believe rasputin was real. like there’s no non-fucked up part of rasputin’s existence
did he do something problematic i thought he was just russia’s greatest love machine
basic (true) story: fanatical russian monk who has almost never shaved or washed and smells like goats shows up at the russian capital with a creepy look on his beardy face and everyone just assumes he’s a prophet or a saint because he’s got a cult following that believes he can cure illnesses. his stans are sexually obsessed with him and he gets just a fuckton of russian pussy wherever he goes cause apparently he can cure his true believers of illness with god-given dick magic. russia’s queen has him come stay at the palace and sets him up in luxury because she thinks he can cure her son’s haemophilia with the power of russian goat jesus, and they
(allegedly)
become lovers, probably, ‘cause she craves that unwashed goat-scented dick like the rest of his cult which she now
(allegedly)
belongs to.
then the worst assassins in the history of assassinations try to assassinate him, because all of russia is slutshaming the queen he has too much power over the royal family and it’s helping revolutionaries turn people against the royals. so these idiots have him round for tea and cakes which are poisoned with cyanide, but he is magically unaffected by poison they get the dose wrong and he doesn’t die, and then he drinks three glasses of wine, which are also poisoned, and he doesn’t die, so they tell him to look at a crucifix and shoot him in the chest with a revolver when he isn’t looking, and he doesn’t die, but they think he’s dead so one of them dresses in his clothes and gets driven to his apartment to make it look like he’s gone home to hide the crime, and when they come back he gets up and attacks them, so they stab him in the side with a knife, and he doesn’t die, and then he frees himself and runs outside, so they shoot him a few times more, including in the forehead, and they wrap his body up and chuck him in the icy river, and he doesn’t go into the water, so his body is found on the ice the next day. and get this…. he died…. of hypothermia.
additionally, everyone who wasnt in the party of getting rid of rasputin was pretty bummed out when they found him and his miracle dick dead the next day and there was a pretty bangin funeral of which the royal family themselves attended. however after the tsar was overthrown a few month later they exhumed his body and burned it because the new leadership was very adamant about making sure there were no ties left to honor the old monarchy. however this dudes body had never been properly prepped for a cremation which meant that under the extreme heat his tendons and ligaments began to retract and shrink causing his dead body to move and twitch around as if still animate. according to some testimony his body actually sat up straight on the pyre, and at least one spectator fired a gun at the body and another may have allegedly died of shock.
By the time night had fallen, the captain had managed to make a fire for himself on the beach that was burning brightly. He’d captured a handful of fish and was roasting them for dinner. Tim had watched him remove his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to work more easily.
When he’d moved into the water to hunt for fish, he’d taken off his boots and rolled up the pants of his legs. to move into the water. He’d sharpened a stick to a point and used it as a spear to catch the fish.
Tim had watched from a distance further out in the ocean, curious as to how he was going to survive. The captain had seemed determined in what he was doing and Tim was curious as to how he was going to survive the next few days. He obviously wasn’t going to be dying anytime soon as long as he was able to maintain a source of food.
Now that night was covering his presence, he moved closer to the beach to get a better idea of what the captain was doing. The waves moved gently against the sand of the beach, barely cresting over the body of the ocean. The captain had his head tilted back and was looking up at the sky and the stars above him. He let out a heavy sigh and turned towards the ocean.
Tim instinctively moved backwards, thinking the captain might have spotted him despite the blackness of the ocean concealing his presence. The captain sucked in a breath before he started singing low in the back of his throat. It wasn’t as upbeat and happy as the shanties the crew had been singing earlier, this was more mournful, as though he was searching for something.
Tim slipped closer, tail moving through the water. The captain continued to sing and Tim didn’t realize how close he’d gotten until his fins slapped the top of the water. He froze as the captain stopped singing. He squinted into the darkness and pushed himself to his feet.
Tim swallowed and tried to move himself backwards, pressing his hands into the wet sand to push himself backwards.
“Is someone there?” the captain asked, walking closer.
Tim pushed with more force, but his hand sank deeper into the sand and his shoulder fell forward, making a small splash which sounded loud in the silence. The captain turned in his direction and hurried forward and Tim struggled to back up enough where he could move freely, but the more he tried to move, the more his hands sunk into the sand and got stuck.
Tim took a deep breath as the captain’s feet splashed through the water and he continued to close the distance between them. He regained some of his composure and moved backwards, relieved when the sand below him disappeared and he was in deeper water and could kick his tail.
“Wait!”
Tim looked up and caught a glimpse of recognition in the captain’s eyes before he disappeared underneath the waves and moved away to safer waters. He swam around the island to the cluster of rocks he’d found earlier in the day and nestled down between them, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.
The desperation in the captain’s voice hadn’t sounded threatening, but Tim was still nervous to get too close after what happened earlier. He looked out at the dark water in front of him and felt weirdly exposed among the rocks. As much as he snuck out during the day, he’d always usually make it back home before dark. It was unnerving being out with no place to go.
Tim wondered if maybe that was what the captain was feeling too.
He tried to shake off the uneasiness, but something shifted in the water. A quiet he wasn’t used to. Tim looked around, trying to peer into the dark water around him. He squinted and managed to make out the shape of something moving.
Tim pressed a hand against his mouth to fight the instinct to gasp and pressed closer against the rocks. His eyes widened as the being swam closer in the water around him. He tilted his head back, searching for a path of escape. He could get up and over the rocks but it would a close squeeze out of the water. Any other direction and he’d be trying to outswim a predator in open water.
As a dark tail came into view, Tim took a breath and darted around the side of the rock, hoping he’d make it far enough to run up on the beach. He only made it a few feet before something sharp lashed across his side and he let out a scream into the water around him.
Beautifuldifferences 