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cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER : cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the golden age of piracy ended. The first mermaid to get tattoos :) “we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?” “kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes. “we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.” “i know.” x “daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.” her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her. “daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor. “don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing. x “father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?” “your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.” she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says. x “why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam. “we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.” she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family. “it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.” x her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.” the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass. “why not?” the mermaid asks. “he’ll win,” the first mate says. the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks. x the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her. “don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.” x the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape. “let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.” they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her. she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings. the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone. x she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea. x “you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her. she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise. “i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.” the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. “we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either. “i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time. “guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.” “without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?” “i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?” “of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.” x the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid. “you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock. the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy. “they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.” “and now?” “they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?” the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.” She protects her family. Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817 That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there! HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

cereusblue: unnameablethings: dragonsateyourtoast: redporkpadthai: dragonsateyourtoast: otherwindow: otherwindow: This is how the g...

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crapolainabox: pizzaqueen361: telltaleclerk: frontier001: auntiope-3000: telltaleclerk: I JUST learned that this shirt cost them $10,000 to put into this movie… but they refused to compromise because they were like: he’s the hugest Golden Girls fan… this has to make the movie… so they paid $10,000 to use Bea Arthur’s likeness on this shirt…  Ryan Reynolds, you’re doing Deadpool so right. They traded all the guns in the final climactic showdown for Bea Arthur’s face. Worth it. Reynolds paid it himself, out of pocket. It didn’t come from the budget. He talked with Bea’s sons and they agreed to it for a donation to Bea’s favorite charity. ☺️ I did not know that. That’s so much better than I could have imagined. The Bea Arthur Residence Officially Opens To Homeless LGBT Youth in NYC : crapolainabox: pizzaqueen361: telltaleclerk: frontier001: auntiope-3000: telltaleclerk: I JUST learned that this shirt cost them $10,000 to put into this movie… but they refused to compromise because they were like: he’s the hugest Golden Girls fan… this has to make the movie… so they paid $10,000 to use Bea Arthur’s likeness on this shirt…  Ryan Reynolds, you’re doing Deadpool so right. They traded all the guns in the final climactic showdown for Bea Arthur’s face. Worth it. Reynolds paid it himself, out of pocket. It didn’t come from the budget. He talked with Bea’s sons and they agreed to it for a donation to Bea’s favorite charity. ☺️ I did not know that. That’s so much better than I could have imagined. The Bea Arthur Residence Officially Opens To Homeless LGBT Youth in NYC

crapolainabox: pizzaqueen361: telltaleclerk: frontier001: auntiope-3000: telltaleclerk: I JUST learned that this shirt cost them $1...

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spiroandthelacktones: ashleyr1120: polygonfighter: spiletta42: since1938: mediamattersforamerica: WHAT. The tone deafness is mind numbing Okay, so is the point of these things to give cops an excuse to shoot unarmed black people for looking at their cell phones in public?  Or is it to make mass shootings easier by slipping these guns past security in schools?  This is cartoon villain levels of awful.  Fuck the NRA. Guys maybe youre also forgetting the possibility that this gives police a reason to murder ANYONE who could try to RECORD THEM IN THEIR CRIMINAL ACTS. In this day and age its vital to record the police, but with this being a thing they can reasonably say they were “afraid for their lives” that someone was gonna pull THIS on them and then shoot bystanders without question This is heinous Getting close to fifteen thousand notes and almost every single comment is outraged and disgusted, at least people can see the terrifying implications of this : spiroandthelacktones: ashleyr1120: polygonfighter: spiletta42: since1938: mediamattersforamerica: WHAT. The tone deafness is mind numbing Okay, so is the point of these things to give cops an excuse to shoot unarmed black people for looking at their cell phones in public?  Or is it to make mass shootings easier by slipping these guns past security in schools?  This is cartoon villain levels of awful.  Fuck the NRA. Guys maybe youre also forgetting the possibility that this gives police a reason to murder ANYONE who could try to RECORD THEM IN THEIR CRIMINAL ACTS. In this day and age its vital to record the police, but with this being a thing they can reasonably say they were “afraid for their lives” that someone was gonna pull THIS on them and then shoot bystanders without question This is heinous Getting close to fifteen thousand notes and almost every single comment is outraged and disgusted, at least people can see the terrifying implications of this
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fierceawakening: adelmortescryche: Reblogging for other diasporic and expat folk. Especially non-caucasian diasporic and expat folk. Some things change when you shift countries. Keep the changes in mind. Whenever I see this I wonder what the gun guys think about it. : What should I absolutely not do when visiting the USA? Charlie Knoles, I have lived in 5 countries and am an Aussie expat in the USA Answered 2d ago + Don't get out of your car ifyou get pulled over by police. I was pulled over by a police officer while driving in Iowa. It was one week afterI had arrived in the USA for the first time. I had accidentally made a minor mistake disobeying a traffic sign. Back home in Australia it's considered polite to get out of your car and walk over to the police officer's car and hand him your license so he doesn't have to get out of his seat. I wanted to be extra polite so I immediately jumped out of my car and walked towards his car while reaching into my back pocket. I'm lucky to be alive. If you come from a gun-free country like the UK or Australia you don't have any natural instinct for gun culture. You don't realize that police assume that everyone is armed. Things got immediately serious. The police officer's hand went to his weapon and I responded by dropping to my knees with my hands up. He yelled a bunch of things at me but my memory is vague because my heartbeat was suddenly pulsing in my ears blotting out all sound. I don't know if he drew his weapon or not. I was staring intently at the ground, shaking and trying to project non- threatening vibes. My next memory is that there were three police cars around me and a bunch of cops who'd been called for backup. They were all keeping their hands close to their guns. After some time passed (a minute? 30 minutes?I have no idea) the tensions de-escalated and they told me to get up. I gave the officer my license and tried to explain why I'd approached him. It was completely incomprehensible to him that there was a place where people don't fear cops and vice versa at traffic stops. It was as though I was trying to tell him that I came from Narnia and our cops were all talking animals. I've spoken to several British people, New Zealanders, and Australians who have shared almost identical stories. They really need to put signs up in all major US airports. Don't get out of your car if stopped by police. They will assume you are armed and they might shoot you. fierceawakening: adelmortescryche: Reblogging for other diasporic and expat folk. Especially non-caucasian diasporic and expat folk. Some things change when you shift countries. Keep the changes in mind. Whenever I see this I wonder what the gun guys think about it.

fierceawakening: adelmortescryche: Reblogging for other diasporic and expat folk. Especially non-caucasian diasporic and expat folk. Some...

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flicker-serthes: sebastianmichaelisthedevilwithin: wortlby2: germanamericanslavic: Colorized footage of the legendary Annie Oakley speed shooting with her Winchester rifle, November 1, 1894 “When a man hits a target, they call him a marksman. When I hit a target, they call it a trick. Never did like that much.” - Annie Oakley Idk who Annie Oakley is, but she’s so cool! Annie Oakley was. BEAST of a marksman. When she was fifteen, she went head-to-head in a shooting contest with a prize of $100, against a travelling exhibition marksman (Frank Butler). She beat him handily, and won the $100 (equivalent to over $2000 today). Please note that it was a shot-for-shot match, and he lost on the TWENTY-FIFTH clay pigeon (so it was a moving target, too). Twenty-five shots in a row, Annie hit them ALL. This, understandably, resulted in Frank, who drank his respect women juice, to be like “Wow that is super hot and I’m in love.” They ended up getting married pretty soon after that, but didn’t have any kids (but IMAGINE IF THEY DID. A FAMILY OF SHARPSHOOTERS). Some of her “trick” shooting (in other words, absolute badass nearly impossible shots given the sights on guns at the time and such) included: Splitting a playing card clean in half from thirty paces while it was place on its edge. Taking off the burning end of a cigarette placed in her husband’s mouth, from thirty+ paces. Having someone throw a DIME into the air, and shooting it clean through. She was lauded by Chief Sitting Bull for her marksmanship when he saw her blow out a candle with one shot, without damaging the wick or the candle itself. Into her sixties, she continued breaking records as well as being a vocal women’s rights activist. She, in her later years, shot 100 clay pigeons in a row from 15 meters. She died in 1915, and her husband was so consumed by grief that he stopped eating and died 18 days later because he couldn’t stand to be apart from her. After her death it was discovered that her ENTIRE fortune (a tidy amount) had been secretly given to several charities, women’s rights groups, and her family in the last few months of her life. She was legendary, and received numerous titles to go along with her abilities, but my favorite is definitely Annie Oakley, Little Sureshot of the West. : Suihisonian CHANNEL flicker-serthes: sebastianmichaelisthedevilwithin: wortlby2: germanamericanslavic: Colorized footage of the legendary Annie Oakley speed shooting with her Winchester rifle, November 1, 1894 “When a man hits a target, they call him a marksman. When I hit a target, they call it a trick. Never did like that much.” - Annie Oakley Idk who Annie Oakley is, but she’s so cool! Annie Oakley was. BEAST of a marksman. When she was fifteen, she went head-to-head in a shooting contest with a prize of $100, against a travelling exhibition marksman (Frank Butler). She beat him handily, and won the $100 (equivalent to over $2000 today). Please note that it was a shot-for-shot match, and he lost on the TWENTY-FIFTH clay pigeon (so it was a moving target, too). Twenty-five shots in a row, Annie hit them ALL. This, understandably, resulted in Frank, who drank his respect women juice, to be like “Wow that is super hot and I’m in love.” They ended up getting married pretty soon after that, but didn’t have any kids (but IMAGINE IF THEY DID. A FAMILY OF SHARPSHOOTERS). Some of her “trick” shooting (in other words, absolute badass nearly impossible shots given the sights on guns at the time and such) included: Splitting a playing card clean in half from thirty paces while it was place on its edge. Taking off the burning end of a cigarette placed in her husband’s mouth, from thirty+ paces. Having someone throw a DIME into the air, and shooting it clean through. She was lauded by Chief Sitting Bull for her marksmanship when he saw her blow out a candle with one shot, without damaging the wick or the candle itself. Into her sixties, she continued breaking records as well as being a vocal women’s rights activist. She, in her later years, shot 100 clay pigeons in a row from 15 meters. She died in 1915, and her husband was so consumed by grief that he stopped eating and died 18 days later because he couldn’t stand to be apart from her. After her death it was discovered that her ENTIRE fortune (a tidy amount) had been secretly given to several charities, women’s rights groups, and her family in the last few months of her life. She was legendary, and received numerous titles to go along with her abilities, but my favorite is definitely Annie Oakley, Little Sureshot of the West.
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Watching yet another series of mass shootings this week has me thinking: how did these people get guns in the first place? What kind of background checks did they have to go through? Did they have to hear a lecture on gun safety? Were they forced to look at dead bodies⠀ ⋅⠀ Depending on what state you live in, you might have to go through all of this and more to get an abortion. You might be forced to bury a bunch of cells you had removed, you might be forced to listen to a lecture by a doctor, you might have to prove that you were raped, you might have to read factually inaccurate anti-abortion literature. ⠀ ⋅⠀ Gun advocates so often claim that, “bans don’t work anyway so what’s the point”? Then why do so many people in this country want to ban abortion? ⠀ ⋅⠀ Our country is an amalgam of hypocrisies and selfishness. Will things change anytime soon? Probably not. But we will never stop trying. https://www.instagram.com/p/B5JAYMDhgK5/?igshid=miq5d7f0n38p: FEMALE BODIES ARE MORE REGULATED THAN GUNS @femestella Watching yet another series of mass shootings this week has me thinking: how did these people get guns in the first place? What kind of background checks did they have to go through? Did they have to hear a lecture on gun safety? Were they forced to look at dead bodies⠀ ⋅⠀ Depending on what state you live in, you might have to go through all of this and more to get an abortion. You might be forced to bury a bunch of cells you had removed, you might be forced to listen to a lecture by a doctor, you might have to prove that you were raped, you might have to read factually inaccurate anti-abortion literature. ⠀ ⋅⠀ Gun advocates so often claim that, “bans don’t work anyway so what’s the point”? Then why do so many people in this country want to ban abortion? ⠀ ⋅⠀ Our country is an amalgam of hypocrisies and selfishness. Will things change anytime soon? Probably not. But we will never stop trying. https://www.instagram.com/p/B5JAYMDhgK5/?igshid=miq5d7f0n38p

Watching yet another series of mass shootings this week has me thinking: how did these people get guns in the first place? What kind of b...

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