#::event

[goldenchildminmin]

A small sigh escaped Minho’s lips, for once not plump and wet with lip-gloss or chapstick as he closed the front door after Rankle, the other fae finally leaving because the town was in distress and perhaps he was needed elsewhere. Also, because he had by now spent far too long in the mortal world, way past his usual quota, a fact that worried Minho. But they would surely see each other again soon, worry about the other plaguing them both in this unexpected emergency state the town was in.

In the past hours, he’d tried to get in touch with anyone and everyone he held dear besides Rankle. Realistically he knew that it would take a while to get to everybody, that some if not most would need time before they could pick up, respond, drop by or in any other way announce and let him know how they were but it still filled him with such fretful anxiety that he could hardly keep still.

And on top of it all, no matter how much they tried, neither could make their glamour come back, conceal how they truly looked like so they could come out into the public not looking too different from the mortals they shared this town with. Minho could see himself even in the glassy, reflective surface of the back of his door. Ashen blonde hair a shade impossible for a human to achieve naturally, pointed ears sticking out of the silken strands of it, twitching involuntarily at the sounds that reached them. Large eyes were entirely black, with no whites showing, pupil hidden in the blackness and with each blink, a transparent film would close over them in a side sweep before the regular lids would follow to actually close Minho’s eyes. Tongue that peeked out to give dry lips a quick lick of moisture was a shade so dark that it looked more purple than anywhere near flesh pink.

And his hands, with the addition of an extra fourth knuckle, curled around the door knob completely, long, thin and alien with their flexibility. No matter how he turned, no matter how much he covered up, if there was light in the room, it reflected off the light dusting of golden freckles littered all over his body, which without glamour even makeup wouldn’t be able to cover - only perhaps dull their shine a little. At least the fact that he could still shrink his wings, make them whither and then fold under the skin of his back made things a little bit easier.

Already missing the man he’d just seen off, Minho closed the front door to his luxurious home with a soft click and beep of an automated smart home system. With this sound, he wished he would never have to leave this house again, at least not until this entire situation was long over and forgotten. He couldn’t bear to be seen. Not like this. Not here, where he was foreign.

[magicvet]

Perhaps people would find it strange, but Corey enjoyed the fact that barely anyone had seen him in the Town Center during the Founders’ Day Faire. He had a cup of ice cream, the first of the season, finally the weather improving just enough for the frozen flavors to not bother him. So he enjoyed it in full, just walking around the Faire grounds, people-watching. A familiar face here and there was spotted. Some noticed him and some did not, some he’d exchanged a word or two with, some he didn’t bother pestering on their fun day out. In the end, he clocked out early, like the old man he was, slipping away among the first few people who had elsewhere to be and couldn’t stay until the end.

He avoided any crowds, he avoided any commotion, he even missed the usual traffic jam common for around this time on the streets and on the way to his home in Dillon. When he got home, he could continue on with his routine. He had a meal, leftovers from yesterday’s lunch, had a cup of tea, had a shower. He vacuumed. He cleared out Bob’s outdoor aviary. The large raven with the wingspan of almost four feet greeted him with an imitation of a few eerily human-like sounds as per usual. Though Corey did find it odd that Bob wasn’t as talkative as he could usually be. He watched a show. Someone recommended to him to watch Vikings. He wasn’t feeling it, but since he hated not finishing what he'd started, he would suffer through all seasons. Maybe it would improve. He really should’ve known, the show was called ‘Vikings’ after all. But he secretly hoped that it was a history-heavy show after all. It wasn’t really.

He went to bed early, none the wiser, not turning the TV on for the news today. In the morning he got up with the roosters, showered again, had breakfast and another cup of dark tea. He fed Marlowe, the elegant gray Norwegian forest cat who wasn’t feeling particularly chatty with him either, another oddity he didn’t think much on. He went to work and only there, upon noticing that a few of the staff had called in and wouldn’t make an appearance for their scheduled shifts, did the news of the previous day surprise him. Everyone at the clinic and shelter had their own version and experience of yesterday to tell, and they did so at every corner and in every room at the clinic - the place was practically buzzing with all the stuff Corey had missed. And all Corey could think about was how he didn’t know what to think of it.

[amyinnile]

The Founders’ Day had been an event and a town holiday Amy had been attending her whole life, mostly with family, friends or coworkers. If she were honest, something happening for it at the town’s center was nothing new. She’d therefore missed quite a few in her lifetime, especially when she was out of the country. This one she’d missed for no special reason, mostly for a day off which was to be used to stay in, do chores and then just do nothing. She played loud music while she loaded up the dishwasher and unloaded her laundry. She drank wine out of the fancy glassware, the fine crystal she kept for special guests. She rearranged one of the bookshelves in her office and had a nap, with a quick, pleasant ‘date’ prior with a new little device she’d bought weeks ago but forgotten about, leaving it forgotten in her undergarment drawer. It was a short nap after which she craved a snack her fridge didn’t have.

So out to the store she went, honey blonde-dyed hair tied up in a bun far too messy for her tastes but for a trip to the store, it would have to do. It was a bit of a walk around the block to find someone who hadn’t closed up for Founders’ Day, but there were a few and she was in her running shoes so she didn’t mind the trip, fresh air chasing the remnant doziness of her nap away. Meandering between the stalls and shelves with the shopping basket hanging off the bend of her arm, Amy browsed idly, stopping curiously when she found that they had canned mimosas. That was new. But she really shouldn’t, she’d already had wine today. She had not even noticed a curl of lime green mist rolling over the not-so-clean floors of the store, creeping up at her heels like a wraith reaching for its next victim.

She turned, aiming to go around a corner and slip into the next aisle but her step slowed when she thought she'd smelled something, like passing by someone vaping on a fresh, scentless cloud. It was so strange and Amy gave it one long moment of thought because hardly anyone was in the store with her. In the end, she simply shook her head, continuing on. Until, barely a few steps after, she felt a sort of a scratching feeling in the back of her throat, like that soreness right before you officially realize you’d come down with a cold. But it kept tightening on her, much too fast and sudden to just be a cold. She wasn’t even sure if she could get sick like that anymore, she hadn’t in the past four years even though common cold was a common occurrence before.

Rubbing her sore neck, her hand reached up to run over her face as with this initial discomfort she also felt a migraine building up. Her fingers came off slick with a very fine sheen of sweat. She was starting to burn up. Now, a spark of panic was setting in too. What was happening to her? Her lips parted, dry, no saliva in her mouth, skin over them cracking and the basket she held dropped to the floor with an unceremonious spill of everything she carried inside. To her left, the cold radiating from the fridges felt so good, so inviting. She barely registered this impulse, this undeniable need for water. She tore open a fridge door, grabbed the first bottle of water her greedy hands could find and chugged. Chugged until she downed it. And then she went for another, and another, empty water bottles falling onto the tiled floor with a dull clatter of plastic.

Startled by a noise and delayed only because they took a moment to go fetch a coworker working in the back to come over with them to check what in the world was going on, the few of the staff working at the store found that Amy had ripped out most of the shelving within one of the fridges out so she could squeeze herself in instead, curled up as small as she could get, soaked with the water spilling over while she’d been chugging. Now silent tears of fear and outrage streaked her flushed cheeks, weak arms hugging her knees as she helplessly looked up at the startled people through fogged-up glass, not even daring to utter a weak ‘help me’, lest her breath made her lose even more precious water.

[strawlessandbraless]

What an unsurprising & completely expected turn of events that literally everyone saw coming 😮

Source 🔗

Free 🔗

[shamebats]

I think we owe an apology to the Americans, looks like at least some of the issues with their healthcare system can be addressed with guns

[prokopetz]

While the Onion buying InfoWars is indeed extremely funny, very few of the posts I've seen commenting on the sale have mentioned that the families of the Sandy Hook victims apparently agreed to voluntarily reduce their lawsuit payout as part of a deal to ensure that the Onion would acquire InfoWars wholesale, rather than having the company broken up and auctioned off piecemeal, as the latter course could potentially have allowed some of those pieces to end up back in the hands of Alex Jones' cronies.

Like, yes, it is in fact very funny that InfoWars is now a wholly owned subsidiary of the Onion, but the real props go out to the Sandy Hook families who saw the opportunity and willingly gave up the additional millions of dollars that could have been realised by stripping InfoWars for parts in order to make that happen.

(EDIT: Fixed a sentence incorrectly suggesting that Clickhole is still affiliated with the Onion – it totally slipped my mind that they'd sold it back in 2020.)

[sayruq]

Palestinian girls and women are forced to use tents as pads. People boost. Donate if you can

[johnny-depp-is-loved]

Please, spread this for those who might need it right now

U.S. suicide hotline: call or text 988 (available 24 hours)

U.S. trans lifeline: (877) 565-8860 (when you call, you’ll speak to a trans/nonbinary peer operator. full anonymity and confidentiality)

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357) – provides 24/7 confidential support and referrals for individuals and families facing mental health and substance use disorders, including panic attacks and anxiety.

LGBT National Help Center: (888) 843-4564

Trevor Project: Call (866) 488-7386, text START to 678-678, or chat online.

Take care of yourself and each other. Please stay safe ♡

[beaft]

the little girl i was looking after today was so effortlessly funny and she didn't even know it. she wanted me to play "holidays" with her, which i assumed was a game where you pretend to be going on holiday - and it technically was, except her version mostly consisted of roleplaying being stuck in a traffic jam on the way to the airport

[itz-rainz-world]

OG: https://earthliberationstudio.com/shop/reclaim-revolutionary-queerness/ !!!!!

[politijohn]

Source

[batbusiness-schooldropout]

My favorite thing about J. Jonah Jameson is that he just hates Spider-Man. He supports mutants and doesn't hate enhanced people. He's not racist, sexist, homophobic, or transphobic. He just hates Spider-Man. And I'm half convinced that he's faking for the publicity.

He'd probably get pissed if he hears someone hating on Spider-Man for being enhanced.

"Spiderman isn't a menace because he can climb walls! He's a menace because he's climbing walls without a license or safety equipment! He's setting a bad example!"

"I just want you to know that you that your identity as an enhanced person is valid. Your identity as Spiderman is trash."

[illmissyoutiktok]

Musician: Jesse Welles

Posted 11Dec2024

[sturionic]

Activism is not cold-calling.

Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.

I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.

As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.

Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.

Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.

This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.

Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.

[wcdonaldo]

your daily reminder that this is a microblogging website and not every post you see is a sweeping well thought-out hot take for you to consider and many posts are in fact vent posts that blew up on accident