#AND MY PRESENTATION IS ON MONDAY

[achillesunly]

WE-CAN-DO-THIS-WEEKEND

[andy-clutterbuck]

The Ones Who Live | 1x04 - What We

[stuckinapril]

Something so ineffable about exhaustion that comes not from a lack of sleep but from a lack of rest

[grelleswife]

In the end, this truly was our Phantomfam Phriday.

[lost-estradiographer]

I

know that voting for the status quo sucks.

To say it "sucks" massively understates the exact amount of suffering that exists under the status quo, an amount that I acknowledge I am too privileged to ever fully grasp.

I cannot magically provide some viable third-party candidate just barely a month before the election. I cannot solve Israel/Palestine Conflict that has haunted the world for over 70 years. I am a 29-year old transgender woman working her way through her own mental illnesses, trauma, and an undergraduate degree. I was never going to be the one to solve anything here.

All I can tell you is that regardless of whether you vote or not, there will be a presidential election. It's going to be a shitshow, regardless. Whether you vote or not, there will be a different president in January. Voting for the status quo may not be directly in your interests.

We had four years of Trump and we are still trying to unfuck ourselves from that. The beginning of my antagonistic relationship with the government was protesting in the streets of DC under his administration. I've fled from the Metro PD. I've put on a change of clothes and slipped out the back door of a gay sports bar.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Honestly, I

I don't want to see this voter apathy shit anymore.

People are going to keep dying under any president. Any president can, and probably wil, be morally culpable for the deaths of innocent people, both in the country and abroad. Carter might be the last president we had that wasn't overtly a war criminal and we still had foreign civilians killed by U.S. military involvement under the Carter admin.

I'm torn between asking you to block me, or asking you to message me, if you're taking the route of voter apathy. I'll tell you right away, here and now, that I probably don't have a solution to whatever problem is keeping you from voting for Harris. I can't even solve my own problems right, tbh. The government isn't really here for me, either.

But there isn't going to be some sort of miraculous revolution that results in The Ending Where Everyone Lives. If there's a revolution, then supply chains will falter and children and the infirm will die of preventable diseases and infections and complications in hospitals that would have otherwise been able to easily deal with such things. That's what happens in a revolution. I'm after the long-term idea where Humanity as a species lives. I'm after the route where we don't have an ending, we keep going.

Fucking vote, because exactly one of the two leading presidential candidates believes climate change is real, and it is the single greatest threat to all life on earth. We have spent the past 250 years, not just playing God with the environment, but actively creating an ecological niche in which future generations of humanity must continue to play God with the environment, dragging it back to a healthy place drop by drop, inch by inch, a degree at a time.

Or, I mean, don't vote. Either way, we'll all die at some point. Perhaps some of us will be lucky enough to die standing by our principles.

Those lucky few will become soil one day, just like I will.

I am begging you on my hands and knees to fucking vote, though, because our options are The Status Quo vs. Worse. That's

That's it.

There is no door number three right now. Our system, our flawed and broken and imbalanced and unjust system, does not accommodate for a third door. Whether you vote or not, you will be dragged through either Door 1 or Door 2 with all of humanity, as we whirl through the cosmos upon our tiny little speck of dust. The only other legitimate option is to allow oneself to become trampled; to become soil early. I don't say legitimate to give this option legitimacy, but to make clear that again, there is no door three. Door three is a casket. A one-way bed.

I didn't vote in 2016, and I'm hoping that you'll vote for the status quo this time, because that's the route that gives me the best odds of having a long and healthy life to regret my failure through inaction.

Just please

Fucking vote.

Or again, if you're taking the apathy route, probably just save me the time of blocking you, because you're not going to magically pull a viable third-party candidate out of your pocket less than six weeks before the election.

[thebigoblin]

dumb & dumber

tags: Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Failwolf Derek Hale, Failhuman Stiles Stilinski, is that a tag? it should be actually, Implied Sexual Content, Possessive Derek Hale, Attempt at Humor, Failwolf Betas, they're all just dumb tbh

"You know, you're kind of the worst," he says this with a pout on his face, the television in front of him blinking back his own face at him. He sorta looks cute with a pout. Huh.

Beside him, the couch dips with the weight of his boyfriend. An arm snakes up along the back of the couch, and he moves forward before that arm and his shoulders can make contact. The huff he gets at his pettiness has him scoffing right back.

"You're being petty."

"And you're an asshole. What's new?"

Another huff. A sigh. He stares forward, resolute.

"Stiles, please." Nope. He is not giving in. He deserves to be upset! "Baby," and oh no.

Stiles turns towards his left, and sees the forlorn look on Derek's face. His eyes are searching Stiles', likely trying to impart how unhappy he is, and how much he wants Stiles' forgiveness.

Stiles might have turned around to actually have a conversation, but hey, he's still got the upper hand here. When Derek reaches out to hold his hand, Stiles takes his wayward limbs towards himself and crosses his arms. Derek isn't happy, his nostrils flaring, but hey, Stiles isn't happy, either.

"Why are you so angry at me?"

Stiles instantly points a finger at his dumb boyfriend, wagging it at that dumb gorgeous face to punctuate his point, "Oh ho ho, don't you play the dumb boyfriend card with me! I wish I could tell Lydia she's right and that all men, no matter the age, suck at being a good boyfriend. But welp! I can't, can I? Because even now, after months of us having been together, I cannot tell people I have a boyfriend! Nobody in the fucking pack knows who you are to me, and you know what Erica has been planning, huh? Huh?"

Derek blinks his dumb, gorgeous eyes at him. He has been staring at these eyes for counting on four months now, but he still can't pinpoint what colors they are. Are they blue? Green? Hazel with gold flecks in them?

Fuck. He is getting distracted. He once again wags his finger at Derek's face, who, this time around, wraps his big, rough arms around it and pulls Stiles forward until Stiles stumbles right onto Derek's lap, and really, why is the universe so unfair? Why is Derek in a barely there wife-beater and grey sweats?

"You know what I am to you, Stiles."

Stiles resolutely stares at Derek's chest. His hands are gripped tight in Derek's, but Derek lets one of his hands go free to grab at his chin, forcing him to look up at the eyes that reflect the early morning sun in a deep, beautiful forest.

"Baby, I am yours."

"But not to the world. To them, you're a single, hot, in much need of a date Alpha werewolf. You're not mine in their eyes, Der."

His heart doesn't waver at the truth, but his chemosignals must change because Derek leans down to rub their noses together, dragging his down to Stiles' neck, scenting him.

Claiming him, in a way.

"If Erica is planning a date for me, she's not competent as a wolf. I might not have told them we are dating, but you smelling much more like us should be a clue."

Stiles noses his way down from Derek's nose to his neck, bites at the junction between it and shoulders just to be a little shit. Derek arches under him, and it has Derek's dick, from under the damned grey sweats, rubbing a delicious friction against Stiles' ass.

"We smell good, huh, Alpha?" He could say more, but Derek is already panting like he cannot take it any more, and hey, that is lips on his own and he can't really speak now, can he?

Derek kisses him with passion, pushes him down back on the couch so he is on top of Stiles.

"Erica needs to learn how to use her fucking nose. You smell like mine," Derek's growl has Stiles instantly wanting to take off his clothes and present to him, down on all fours and ready to blackout in bliss for hours, but.

Stiles pushes at Derek's chest so there's space between them, and asks, a bit breathless, "Why haven't we just told them?"

"You're a fucking tease. I'm going to ruin you once this conversation is over, understand?"

Stiles stares back, wide-eyed, pupils evidently dark. Licks his lips. Nods.

Derek grabs his hair and wrenches him in for a deep kiss before letting go, putting space between them.

They don't speak for a few minutes, trying to get back to some semblance of control. Once they are, Derek speaks.

"I haven't told anyone... because I forgot."

If this weren't Derek, and he wasn't Stiles, he would have been offended. Because what the fuck? But he is Stiles, and this is Derek, so.

"You figured everyone would use their super-sniffers?" Derek nods. "Except you also forgot not everyone is a werewolf, and that even those with super-sniffers are idiots. They would first figure out how to stop a bus with failing brakes from crashing by jumping in front of it rather than using their wolf strength to well, pull the bus Superman style."

"Yes, I'm aware my pack is brave but stupid. Especially because their leader is here with me."

"Hey!"

"Then why didn't you tell them?"

Stiles opens his mouth. Closes it. Scratches his head, his hair. Eyes fixed on the TV again, he mumbles, "I thought you didn't want to."

Derek takes his hand and points it at himself with a raised eyebrow. "Me? The one who has been scenting you extensively and making you wear butt-plugs? Me?"

His cheeks color with embarrassment. "Alright! We are both idiots. Got it."

"Truly made for each other." Derek again uses Stiles' hand to pull him forward, right until Stiles stis on Derek's lap. Again. Except this time Derek is already working to make Stiles' jeans dissappear. "Now, tell me about this date Erica has planned for me while you warm my cock with your pretty hole, okay, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha." Oh, coming to the Loft in a fit of anger/sadness was the best course of action today.

And Stiles is definitely going to pilfer that fancy-pants restaurant Erica has reserved for Derek's blind date with one of her college friends for a date for them.

And then he's going to be fucking annoying about calling Derek his, just like he is sure Derek is going to be insufferable about making it clear that Stiles is his in return.

[strabius-berry]

YEAH! Meat time Monday!

[avida-heidia-5]

I went down a bit of a Martian rabbit hole today and came across these pictures of Sebastian Vettel congratulating Mark Webber for winning the 2010 Monaco Grand Prix.

Uhh…let’s just say I went a teeeeeny bit feral. *glances guiltily down at my broken fingernails* Oops…! 😳

Look at these pictures and tell me they don’t look like they were about to kiss each other right there and then. I DARE you!

Apologies if these images are all out of order. That’s just how I ordered them! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[sorryiliketoscreenshot]

[outlying-hyppocrate]

MY SCHOOL SCHEDULE ABSOLUTELY FUCKS????????

[frnkiebby]

these absolute babes~🎃

[chalkythetalkie]

This week has been very rough but i'm determined to make it through

[specialinterestshows]

I had to make this

[cicadaemon]

bought to get a haunted doll of ogata that drinks all my pepsi and calls me a bitch

[vertigo-tango]

i need to memorise a short speech for tmrw's test however I got really distracted so have the usual sketchy shitpile

i like to think that he's the kind of person to actually take care of his hair. well not anymore but still

extra doodles under the cut

the day i finish a piece is the day sisyphus reaches the mountaintop okay back to figuring out how to cram my script into cards

[abortionado]

majoring in education will ahve you 23 years old off a delta 8 gummy frantically googling "thanksgiving online games for kids" on a wednesday night