#Pat Leahy

[vyorei]

YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT WE ARE

NOW DRAG ISRAEL THE FUCK OUT OF PALESTINE

AND STOP THE FUCKING GENOCIDE

🇵🇸✊🇮🇪

Source: @IrishTimes on Twitter

[thenewdemocratus]

The Washington Post: Christopher Ingraham: The Orwellian Deception of Chuck Grassley's Leniency Industrial Complex

Source:The Washington Post Anyone who calls them self a Conservative and especially a fiscal Conservative, but who supports the American Prison Industrial Complex and our current criminal justice system, I at the very least would question how fiscally conservative are you. I would also question how conservative you are when you have Conservative Republicans in Congress like Senators Ted Cruz,…

[dontcallittimetravel]

Happy birthday to Pat Leahy, but not that Pat Leahy

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have Angry Neighbors 2022

[zepskies]

Show Me - Part 1

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader || Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy (background)

Summary: Dean meets your infamous ex-boyfriend at a fallen hunter’s funeral. You just forgot to mention that he’s a hunter as well. Maybe because he still has the power to get under your skin…in the worst of ways.

AN: Another story for the Espresso-verse! This is set after “Devour Me,” and plays on plot threads in “Midnight Espresso” and the flashbacks in “In Bad Weather.”

Word Count: 3,100

Tags/Warnings: Angst, body shaming, body insecurity, protective Dean.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 1: “Objects Are Closer Than They Appear”

Hunter funerals aren’t supposed to be lively affairs.

Alicia Jackson is special, however. She’s known so well throughout the hunter community that news of her death creates a kind of reunion at her mother’s house after the funeral, not unlike Asa Fox’s wake last year.

Even you had known Alicia, though not particularly well. You met her through Eileen. They’d called for your help on a ciguapa case a few months ago, and ever since, Alicia had insisted on buying you a beer anytime she was in town.

So today, Sam and Dean are really supporting you and Eileen by coming along.

Alicia’s mother, Martha, is a lovely Haitian woman in her late sixties. Her house is modest, but welcoming. She’s a gracious host to have so many rough and tumble hunters in her home.

The wake is mainly gathered in the backyard, where plastic tables and chairs have been set up. Most of the hunters have collected into groups of the ones they know, sharing stories, laughing, eating, and drinking.

You’re in the kitchen with Martha, as you’ve offered to help her put out some more beers on the table outside. The smaller woman falters for a moment when she glances at a framed picture of her daughter on the wall. Alicia was beautiful, with coal-dark skin and soulful brown eyes she’d inherited from her mother.

You end up holding Martha’s hands in comfort when she nearly crumbles again. Your heart breaks for her. Even if you hadn’t been that close with Alicia, you’d hope that someone would take care of your own mother in a situation like this.

“She just has so many friends,” Martha says, with a tearful chuckle. “I never realized…”

“We try to look after each other,” you reply, smiling. “Everyone here knew your daughter, if not personally, then by reputation. And guaranteed, all of them have at least one good story to share.”

Martha nods. Somehow, she’s able to smile through her tears as she pats your hand. 

After spending a few more minutes with her, you predictably find Dean by a long table of hors d’oeuvres and desserts.

“Babe, you gotta try these mini quiche. They’re delicious,” he says, after popping another pastry into his mouth. You can see that he’s eaten nearly a whole tray while he’s been waiting for you.

“You realize we’re at a wake, not the Golden Corral,” you lightly tease. He shrugs.

“Still gotta eat, right?” he says.

His capacity for food knows no bounds, but you love him for it.

You glance over at Sam and Eileen chatting with a small group of hunters under the shade of a tree. They’re sitting close together at a picnic table. Your lips form a subtle smile, and you lean in close to Dean.

“Look at your brother, being a supportive non-boyfriend,” you say. They’ve been loosely “dating” for weeks, though you aren’t sure they’ve put an official label on what they are together.

Dean’s expression turns both fond and amused. “Think they’ve sealed the deal yet?”

You glance over at him. “What do you mean?”

“You know…” Dean waggles his brows suggestively. You do know what he means, and you playfully smack his chest. Mostly to stop him before he starts making lewd hand motions.

“Come on, that’s none of our business,” you reply. Inside though, you’re wondering the same thing.

Dean spies the look on your face and smirks.

“See. You’re curious too,” he says. He gestures at your face with the same hand that holds a bacon-wrapped cocktail weenie. You have to raise a hand to fend him off when he tries to veer it into your mouth.

“Don’t point at me with your sausage,” you quip.

“Funny. I’ve never heard that particular complaint outta your mouth before,” he smirks.

He eventually gives up on feeding you and eats it himself. His warm gaze is still on you though. You start to blush.

“Again, we’re literally at a funeral reception,” you say, despite your growing smile.

His gait becomes more flirtatious as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Like I said. We still gotta eat, don’t we?”

You splutter laughing, though you attempt to contain it behind your hand. Dean’s chuckle resonates through you when he pulls you in by your waist. His thumb brushes your hip. He’s not so much into PDA, and certainly not as “touchy” as you, but this much will do for now. You lean into him in turn.

He finishes off his umpteenth hours d’oeuvre and sets his nearly empty beer on the table. After letting loose a barely stifled belch, he mentions something about finding a bathroom.

“Dogs are already barkin’, huh?” you tease.

“Yep,” he freely admits, patting his stomach. “Give me five minutes…or ten.”

He squeezes your arm in parting before he takes off down the hall at a purposeful pace. It leaves you to contemplate the mini quiche.

Damn, they do look good. You bend over the table slightly to peruse your options, when a familiar voice drawls behind you.

“Still got a fat ass,” he teases.

You freeze. Slowly, you straighten up, and you turn to blink in surprise at the man who stands there, holding a beer and wearing a playful smile.

Yours is polite at best as you try to get through your shock.

“Carter,” you blurt out. What the hell are you doing here?

He greets you with an incline of his head. The way he says your name is both familiar, and a little unsettling.

You cross your arms and lean back on your heels. “You knew Alicia?”

“We tangled a few times,” Carter replies with a nod. His smile laces with a bit of innuendo, but his eyes have just enough heaviness to convince you that he really did have some kind of relationship with Alicia.

Oh, Ali. You could’ve done better, you think. You wish you’d known that tidbit of information when she was alive. You would’ve warned her.

“I’m sorry for your loss then,” you say. Carter nods again. A silence falls awkwardly between you two.

“Is that all we’re gonna say to each other?” he asks. “It’s been…what, a couple years?”

“Almost four,” you supply. You and Carter had ended just a few months before you met Sam and Dean, a little over three years ago now. You and Dean hadn’t started dating until last year.

“All right,” Carter says, rubbing at his chin. His gaze roams over you with a slight smile. They take you in from your high-heeled boots and jean-clad curvy thighs, to your green blouse, laced loosely in the front. You’d decided to dress a little nicer for the occasion.

“You know, you look the same,” Carter says. His head tilts. “But different somehow.”

You raise a brow. “Different?”

“Yeah, like…” He draws closer and leans on the table beside you. He sips at his beer. “Confident. Like you’re not hiding yourself anymore.”

He mimics the hunch of a turtle in its shell.

“You used to be like a little mouse sometimes,” he adds with a light chuckle.

You know he means to be teasing, but you’re not laughing. If you’re not hiding anymore, it means you’re not trying to bury yourself under shapeless clothes, along with much of your inner self.

“Don’t you think that’s a little tight?” he’d asked you once, before you two went out together. It wasn’t the first time. (And it wouldn’t be the last.)

“I’m just saying,” he would often say. “You might feel more comfortable in something a bit looser. Cover these up a little.”

You remember how he’d squeezed the softness around your sides or your stomach. You also remember a well of anxiety in your chest that had made you feel almost grotesque when you’d studied yourself in the mirror afterwards.

Objects are closer than they appear…

You remember agreeing with him. Changing clothes. Drowning yourself in crewneck shirts and breezy buttoned-downs. Always wearing pants and baggy shirts to bed. Thinking all of this was to make you comfortable, and not the man who didn’t really love you.

So now, you give him a passive look as you take Dean’s forgotten beer and finish the last sip. Carter wears a hunter’s red plaid over jeans and his old leather boots. His blonde hair is shaggy around his ears, his face a little rough with stubble, his eyes still a deep blue.

He looks exactly the same. He probably is the same.

He’s right about one thing though. You’re not the same.

“We’re not in the profession of hiding,” you finally reply. “Guess I just got tired of it.”

Carter seems to sense your shift, and maybe, what you’re really saying. His smile falls into contemplation. He crosses his arms.

“Did I spot you with one of the Winchesters earlier?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah, that was Dean.”

Before you can add the boyfriend part, Carter whistles lowly and shakes his head.

“I’d steer clear of them if I were you,” he says.

You quirk a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Those two are walking hurricanes of bad luck, blood, and mayhem,” Carter says.

“You don’t even know Sam and Dean,” you counter. Your voice is sharp and your brows knit together in thinly veiled irritation. “So I suggest you shut your mouth and steer clear of me.”

You set the beer bottle a bit hard on the table and mean to brush past him. You spot Sam and Eileen again, still sitting in their same table under the tree. You aim to head over there to wait for Dean, but a hand wraps around your arm.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that,” Carter frowns.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you tell him. You’re discreet in the way you try to twist your arm out of his grip. You glance around to make sure no one’s watching you two. The last thing you want to do is make a scene here, but Carter is being a stubborn ass.

Even though you manage to wrench out of his hold, he grasps your hand next to stop you from pulling away. He looks down at your hand, brushes his thumb over your skin. His gaze looks heavy, almost melancholy.

You know that funerals tend to bring out the sentimental shoulda, coulda, woulda in hunters, but you think he might be looking back on your time together with rosier glasses than he ought to be.

“Look, I'm sorry. Can’t I at least get you a drink? We can catch up,” he says.

“Consider me caught up,” you toss back. Frustration begins to set you on edge. “I don’t know why you’re pushing this. I mean, God, we weren’t even good together.”

At that, his grip tightens on your hand. Confusion and denial cross his face.

“That’s not true,” he protests.

Unbidden, you’re forced to remember the weeks you and Carter spent in Miami, where you’d met him. You remember how he’d convinced you to leave with him after his hunt was done, and to leave your family behind. A decision you regret to this day…

You lean in closer just to whisper hotly. “You know it is. We didn’t have a relationship. We had a transaction, in which you liked what I could do for you. But you never loved me. You never even really knew me.”

At that, his hold finally loosens in his shock. You take the opportunity to slip your hand out of his. Another familiar hand rests along your lower back, and a firm wall radiates warmth behind you.

“Hey, party people,” Dean says. He gives Carter a “pleasant” smile, and you a more genuine look. You okay? it says.

You let out a subtly relieved breath and nod. “Hey, was just gonna go check on you.”

“I’m good,” Dean says. He looks over at Carter, whose expression has cooled considerably. Still, Dean inclines his head. “Hey, man.”

“Yeah,” Carter says. His tone is bland, until his gaze slides back to you.

“Don’t tell me you’re shacking up with this one now,” he says, leveling a finger at Dean. Then he gestures across the lawn, over at Sam. “Or is it the former anti-Christ over there?”

Both you and Dean bristle. Your temper has a thin fuse right now, and while you still don’t want to make a scene, you might have to make an exception.

“Why don’t you remember where the hell you are and have some decency,” you hiss. “Do us all a favor and fuck off.”

Once again, you try to walk past him. This time when Carter grabs you, it’s because he smarts at you getting the last word. A sharp breath escapes you, and Dean intervenes with a firm, warning grip on the other man’s wrist.

“Hey, you wanna act right, before you make yourself a problem?” Dean says. His face is relaxed, but behind his eyes are a very real threat. “I got no issue laying you out right here, in front of all your buddies.”

Carter has a moment of indecision. He notices a few pairs of eyes drawing their way, and so he lets go of you, even as he sneers at Dean.

“Shove the Prince Charming bit, asshole. She ain’t a damn princess,” Carter snaps. “She don’t act like one, and she definitely don’t look like one.”

You roll your eyes at his spite, but Dean can’t quite let that one slide off his back. 

His grip tightens on Carter’s wrist as he pulls him in. He pats Carter hard on the back and smiles as if they’re old friends. But really, it just gives him the vantage point to speak lowly near the man’s ear.

“All right, douchebag. Keep talking shit. I’ll bet that’s how you’ve gotten this far in life,” Dean says. “But touch her again, and I’ll break every damn bone in your hand. And maybe, I won’t stop there.”

He tilts his head, so he can see the glimmer of intimidation hidden well behind the other man’s eyes. Then Dean lets him go. He turns and lays a hand at the small of your back. The two of you fall into step together while walking across the lawn in the backyard.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly.

Dean frowns and notices the way your gaze has lowered. His hand moves around your waist and squeezes to get your attention. Without him realizing, it just reminds you of the way Carter used to point out the thicker curves on your body.

Cover these up a little.

“Hey, you okay—”

“I’m fine, Dean,” you say, easing out of his hold.

It leaves him feeling unbalanced, and a bit put out. Dean remains quiet as he follows you over to his brother’s table.

“Are you all right?” Sam asks you, discreetly, but with concern. The wake is coming to an end, and by now Dean has filled him in on your run in with your ex, Carter Hall.

You give Sam a nod and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I'm good,” you reply.

Dean is quiet. He stands beside you with his hands in his pockets. Eileen has invited you and Dean to join her and Sam at a nearby bar to keep the evening going with a few other hunters, but this has already been one hell of a day. You’re ready to make the long drive home and call it a night.

Eileen’s also agreed to take Sam home (eventually). You notice how they share smiles, how Eileen ducks her head with the beginnings of a blush. You’re happy for them, even as you and Dean part ways with a more stifled silence on the way back to the car.

It’s late, and it’s cold. You walk beside him with your arms crossed, just to brace yourself against the windchill eating through your jacket. You glance over at your boyfriend and feel a measure of remorse for the way you brushed him off earlier. You have a feeling that’s part of the reason why he’s quiet, giving you your space.

You decide to close the distance. You sidle up closer and curl your arm around his. Your hand slips into his as well, threading your fingers together with Dean’s.

He looks over at you with a slight raise of his brows. His lips quirk at a smile, and his hand tightens on yours. You’re able to give him a more sincere smile in return.   

“Can I tell you something?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Dean says.

You look up at him and bite your lower lip. “I’m starving. I never did get to try those quiche.”

It only takes a moment for you to devolve into a quiet giggle. It’s infectious, and Dean laughs with you.

“Okay, we’ll stop somewhere,” he nods. Though his eyes widen in realization. “Damn, that means you haven’t eaten since, what, this morning? Before the funeral?”

You mentally count back the hours, and you have to agree with a sheepish nod. Dean shakes his head in disapproval.

“Come on, sweetheart. You should’ve said something.”

You shrug, even though you know he’s right. Your free hand curls around his bicep, and you lay your head against his arm. He looks down at the top of your head and heaves a sigh, despite his lingering smile.

Though the peace you’ve brokered is soon interrupted.

Dean had to park down the road of Martha Jackson’s house. Two cars down is Carter, who’s about to climb into his old Honda Civic.

Damn. He’s still driving the same piece of shit too, you note. His head raises, and as if he knows he’s being watched, his attention turns toward you and Dean. You don’t allow yourself to react, other than staring across the way, directly at Carter. You wait until he looks away first, opening his door and getting into his car.

You expel a breath and brush your thumb over the back of Dean’s hand.

“Let’s go,” you say.

Dean nods. He guides you toward the passenger side of the Impala, but his gaze lands beyond his car, to the Honda still parked and warming up. He finds Carter’s gaze through the front window for a moment.

It’s Carter who once again breaks first; he revs the ignition and peels onto the street, and down the road past them without looking back.

Dean's lips curve. Bitch.

Shaking his head, he rolls his shoulders and rounds the car towards the driver’s side.

He’s more than ready to go home.

AN: *sighs* Okay, originally this story was going to be a one-shot, but it just got too damn long. Let me know what you think of Dean finally meeting her ex-douchebag, Carter.

Part 2 (coming next week) will include all the angsty hurt/comfort and smut to come...

Next Time:

“I’ll just speak for myself then,” he says. His hand trails lower... “If you need me to remind you how beautiful you are, how goddamn sexy…then I got no problem showing you.”

His hand moves down the soft slopes of your body and comes to rest at the curve of your waist. Hearing your faltering breath, Dean pulls back so he can see your face.  

“Let me take care of you for a change,” he says. His lips pull at a grin, and it makes you smile in turn.

You take his face in your hands and bring him down to you for a kiss, languid and a bit devouring. It makes heat lick up Dean’s spine.

“Okay,” you whisper, close to his lips. “Show me.”

Keep Reading: PART 2

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[wolveria]

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 39

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Involuntary medical procedures, humiliation, brief noncon elements via medical procedures

Chapter Summary: “Don’t do anything to antagonize him. I’ve seen what he can do, and it’s so much worse than this.”

AO3

Heaviness weighed you down, like a blanket made of lead. Your mouth was cottony and dry, and a dizzy ache cradled your skull. You blinked in discomfort as bright lights were out of focus above you, and you felt underdressed.

And your legs were bent at an odd angle. Something was wrong. You attempted to move, but a pair of hands held you down. And then two.

Dull pain shot upwards between your legs, and your eyes widened, lucidity hitting you like a bucket of water at the coldness splitting you open.

“Stop... stop... please!”

“It’ll be over soon,” a nurse said, patting you on the shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

“W-what?”

Discomfort tinged in your gut at the familiar scrap of something inside you, and you realized what was happening. It didn’t calm you.

And then it was over, the swab retracting from your uterus, the metal forceps removed from your vaginal canal, and the doctor sitting in front of your stirrups sat up on her stool.

“Here are the samples, make sure the labs get them with priority status. Mark everything else as normal.”

The nurse pulled your legs out of the stirrups, but your movements were clumsy, heavy. Despite that, you trembled, disoriented.

“What did you do to me?” you rasped over your dry tongue.

The doctor, an older woman with brunette hair in a bun, frowned at you and then gave a sympathetic smile.

“Just a simple pelvic examination and pap smear. You’ll be coming out of the sedatives soon, but they should still relax you so you don’t feel any further discomfort. It’s all right to have anxiety about medical procedures, nothing to be ashamed of.”

You had no idea what she was talking about—and then, you understood. She didn’t know you were an experiment, Leahy’s little test subject. You knew because she treated you like a person. The shock of being talked to like a human being after so long was enough for your voice to go silent.

The nurses helped you off the examination gurney and into a wheelchair, your legs still unable to support you. Your legs and feet were bare and cold, and all you wore was a flimsy light green hospital gown.

You didn’t notice when the nurse pushing your wheelchair was replaced by a guard, or when the medical sector became the thick walls of Heavy Containment. You could barely keep your head up, wanting to slip back to sleep and not think about anything.

Two guards unceremoniously pulled you from the wheelchair, supporting you by the arms and half-dragged you into a containment cell. They dumped you to the floor with just as much delicacy and left you there.

You remained in a collapsed heap, bracing your palms against the floor but barely able to lift your head. You fought against the dizziness, the dwindling adrenaline allowing the sedative to seep into your senses again.

A pair of hands touched your shoulders. You gave a pitiful cry and tried to push them off.

“Do not fret, dear one. There is no one else. Only me.”

You grabbed onto those hands like a lifeline, melting into them with the last of your strength. 049 caught you easily, crouching next to you on the ground. You pulled in close, curling into a ball and tucking your legs underneath you, seeking his natural warmth and the sense of safety he always provided.

Once you were safely ensconced against his chest, he caressed your hair and softly said, “Good. That’s very good.”

He slipped his arms under your knees and back, lifting you easily as he stood straight, and 049 carried you into the inner containment room. As soon as you felt the bed underneath, you panicked.

049 stilled your movements, easily done with your lack of strength, but he was gentle, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

“I know what this bed signifies and why you would avoid it, but I will not leave you on the floor. You need warmth.”

You breathed a little easier when he pulled the blankets over you, covering your legs where the short hospital gown had ridden up your thighs. The feeling of vulnerability was made worse when they hadn’t bothered to give you anything to wear underneath.

049 situated the pillow beneath your head so it was more comfortable, and you noticed the thick band around his wrist that hadn’t been there before. A biomonitor.

“What…” You swallowed down the rising horror. “What did they do to you?”

He paused, as if the question caught him unawares, but his eyes were warm. His fingers brushed against your hair again, stroking the strands and allowing you to further sink into the mattress.

“Aside from the distress of not knowing where you were taken, I am unharmed. But I fear the same cannot be said of you.”

You swallowed and looked away, fixing on the far wall. The confusing memories of having an involuntary pap smear, of thinking the dark shapes in the room and the hands on your skin were SCPs, it filled you with a hard shudder. Upon waking, you’d believed Leahy had made good on his threat.

Regaining awareness in the middle of the procedure had somehow been the worst. Being unconscious for the entire thing, or fully lucid and awake, would have been preferable than waking up, disoriented and scared.

The sharp taste of bile lay on your tongue as you forced out the words.

“They gave me a pelvic exam. Took samples from my uterus. It was all standard procedure, but... I didn’t know what was happening, I woke up during it. I wasn’t… I didn’t want it, but I was still sedated, and-and I know Leahy is punishing me. Showing me what happens when I resist.”

I don’t brute-force things that don’t need it.

049’s hand froze, a flash of real hatred in his eyes, but then it was gone. The look of intensity didn’t fade, simmering beneath the surface.

“He has much to account for, and I will ensure he pays in full.”

You took his hand and pulled it down until it rested against your cheek. He blinked, following your movements with his gaze.

“Don’t do anything to antagonize him,” you quietly pleaded. “I’ve seen what he can do, and it’s so much worse than this.”

His expression softened, his thumb trailing along your cheek.

“Let us not worry about such things tonight. You need rest, and I… need to think.”

You looked up at him questioningly, but he only gave you one of those faint smiles using only his eyes.

“Sleep, my dear. I will not leave your side.”

You knew he meant it, so you turned over on your other side, facing the wall. Right now, a blank wall was a comforting canvas of nothing. You hoped it would help settle your mind and also keep it empty. The sedatives still lingered, and you hoped for a few hours of sleep before having to face whatever came next.

Expecting 049 to go to his desk, you were surprised to feel the mattress dip behind you. Warmth curled against your back as he draped his arm around your waist, his beak brushing against the side of your neck.

You didn’t stiffen at the close contact this time. You settled against him, grateful for the comforting weight of his presence on your back. He held you closer than he ever had before, as if he too understood. It didn’t matter what the cameras saw, what your former colleagues thought of your interactions with the SCP. All of your careful distance had amounted to nothing.

Dignity was the last surrender, and then there would be nothing left for the Foundation to take.

Chapter 40

[mariacallous]

as I said in this post

No one is really asking or bringing these questions up with senators like Dick Shelby, or Jim Inhofe, or Pat Leahy, or Bernie Sanders, or Chuck Grassley - all of whom are around the same age as Feinstein (and that’s just in the Senate - there’s Hal Rogers, Steny Hoyer, Bill Pascrell, etc. in the House) and decline or perceived weaknesses and health issues get brought up more easily and quickly and negatively with women in public office than with men, and there’s almost this shock or offense when you try to discuss men being weak or flawed or ill.

The perpetual candidate to which you refer had a fucking heart attack that his supporters and commenters just brush(ed) off and god forbid you ever mention it.

[batboyblog]

Nagging potential voters while offering them nothing has been a losing political strategy every time it's been tried. If you actually care about wresting political power from fascists - yes I am questioning your commitment - you'll get involved in on-the-ground organizing instead of acting like an asshole online. Because I cannot stress this enough: what you're doing here on tumblr? That hurt us in 2004. And 2016. And a bunch of the off-years too. Knock it off. And before you complain about my tone: I'm using the same one you did in your post. If reading this made you upset, maybe sit for a while and think about the implications of that.

lol, I honestly can't tell you how much this makes me laugh so thanks for the early morning comedy

I don't actually have any idea which of my MANY posts you found and decided to have an issue with.

Any ways, I have a Tumblr, which is mostly non-serious because in real life, my real life my real work is very serious and political and this generally is a decompression space away from that were I can express other interests, US Senators generally don't want to hear my take on comic books (well Pat Leahy....)

I'm not gonna lay out chapter and verse what I've done or do because I'm not doxing myself for an anon troll, but last election I knocked over 2,000 doors for Democratic candidates, I've been pretty open that I was HFA in 2016 and OFA before that

so generally in most of my posts I'm asking, basically begging people, to get as involved as I am, well maybe not AS involved, you don't all need jobs In politics someone has to drive the buses after all. But its very easy as a volunteer to make a huge huge impact on your local Democratic Party and on elections around you and it's amazingly healing to get out and talk to voters, a day of walking around knocking doors and talking to voters will cure you of wanting to dive bomb a strangers in box with nonsense like this.

any ways since I was you know, there, in 2004 and I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume (since you assumed quite a lot about me) We lost that election because the Bush team totally shamelessly claimed our famous war hero candidate had in fact faked his Purple Hearts and hadn't earned his Sliver and Bronze Stars. Also they pretty shamelessly implied that a vote for Democrats was a vote for terrorism and stressed to evangelical voters that they'd ban gay marriage forever and always if Bush won re-election, which I think was very key to pulling Bush over the finish line in Ohio (and the election as a whole)

Not that that matters the "Nagging" narrative is silly, and mainly used by people who want to not feel bad for not voting being engaged. That its somehow Democrats fault for asking them to vote and pointing out the negative things that will happen if Republicans win. Thats how all campaigns since the dawn of time have worked however. All Campaigns are a mix of two things "here are the good things I would like to do" and "here are the bad things my opponent will do if they win" there's no way to campaign without the latter duh.

any ways like I said Tumblr is my silly happy place, but I'm still me, so sometimes I shoot off about the real life topics that matter to me. And here on Tumblr sometimes I can be blunter and ruder than I might on social media linked to my real life, thats not gonna change or anything I'm just saying.

finally I hope everyone gets involved, its fun its easy it makes a big difference, google your city or county and "Democrats" to find a local meeting, Everyone should check out The Sister District project, Swing Left, and Run For Something as I've said else where there are important elections happening all the time, Democrats have a chance to win the Governorship in Mississippi a dear friend of mine is down there right now working that and I couldn't be more proud of his unwavering efforts to blue the south (he helped get Andy Beshear elected in 2018) so random troll anon I hope you're doing more than uh... whatever this is, I'm gonna keep doing my thing.

[racefortheironthrone]

I mean he "feels" like one, but the Wikipedia article on "Watergate Babies" doesn't list Joe Biden. The definition is young politicians elected post Watergate scandal, but Joe Biden was already in the U.S. Senate when the class of '74 came in? I tried finding an article referring to Biden as one since there were a bunch of piece of "the end of Watergate babies" when Pat Leahy (of the Batman movie cameos) retired.

He was elected a couple years earlier, so if we're going by strict definitions maybe he wasn't, but I just meant that he shared a lot of their politics and was trying to kind of ride their demographic wave when he ran for president.

At the very least, he was a proto-Watergate baby.

[straightbaittournament]

only the option with the LEAST votes will be eliminated. propaganda under the cut (and more always welcome!):

akko kagari and andrew hanbridge:

Very typical hetero-love-interest introduction, rival vibes, aloof rich boy & headstrong "commoner" girl, learning to see each other's point of view, she dresses up for the first time in the series to sneak into his party to try to talk to him. Just classic 'ugh they're clearly gonna get together' but... they don't. Nothing romantic is ever explicit, and by s2 they're friends and that's it. there's no discussion or drama. they're good friends. literally shocked me. apparently a guy and girl who fit a bunch of romantic tropes... can just be friends

sam winchester and eileen leahy:

The last season set them up to be together, and then in Sam’s finale flash-forward, they replaced her with “blurry wife” literally a random blurred out woman rather than having him end up with Eileen Eileen is the coolest Supernatural character: she's deaf and also formerly dead (like Sam)

asuka tenjoin and yuki judai:

The ship name (fianceshipping) comes from the episode where Judai *accidentally* duels some guy to become Asuka's fiance (said guy never asks Asuka how she feels about this, ugghhh greater Duel Academia student body be normal about ladies challenge). Turns out that he *didn't know what a fiance was* and just wanted to have a good ol' time cardgaming. I think that this says more about this ship than anything else I could tell you. During the final season, Asuka almost confesses to him but cuts herself off & they then thank each other for giving each other some clarity of mind because they're both going through pretty rough times at that point in the plot. Looks concerningly like they're about to do a whole "ohh we need to make the main girl and boy romance out of obligation" bit and then they just don't do it. It's great. judai is the gayest guy of all time (subtext) and im like 80% sure asuka was experiencing comphet bc he's the only guy in their grade that treats her like a person. besties 4ever!!!!!!!! [straightmod has been informed that judai is also textually queer because he is canonically attracted to a non-binary character.]

kurosaki ichigo and kuchiki rukia:

Oh man, where do I even begin? So, for some context, Bleach starts when Rukia (a shinigami) gets critically injured saving Ichigo from a monster, and she transfers her powers to him so he can finish it off. Instead of transferring half her powers as planned, however, she transfers all of them, which forces Ichigo to take over her job as a shinigami. During this time period, Rukia... lives in his closet. Yeah. The entire first arc of the manga is dedicated to their relationship, and while a lot of it is playful banter, Rukia's presence in Ichigo's life fundamentally changes it for the better. Rukia then gets kidnapped by the rest of the shinigami who aren't at all happy she gave her powers to a human, and the main plot ensues from there. Throughout the story, Rukia and Ichigo constantly save each other when they're at their worst. When Rukia thinks she deserves to die, Ichigo is there to tell her she deserves to live. When Ichigo is in a funk about his superpowered evil side, Rukia is there to snap him out of it (something his canon love interest explicitly realises she was unable to do). They share a sun/moon motif for crying out loud, and yet like that last sentence said... they don't end up together, but with other people instead. Yeah. No shade to the canon ships, but Ichiruki is peak straightbaiting, honestly. They have a lot of banter/chemistry, fundamentally change eachother's lives for the better, save each other when they're at their lowest, and have a very deliberate sun/moon dichotomy... but they both end up paired off with different characters instead asdfghkl

izuku midoriya and ochako uraraka:

It’s the classic main character x friend who is a girl ship. They have no actual romantic interactions outside of their friendship. Ochako has “feelings” for Izuku, but they are clearly feelings of friendship until one of her friends insists that she must have a crush on Izuku, making her feel confused and embarrassed. Izuku clearly sees Ochako as a good friend, but when they first meet, he blushes and thinks “I can’t believe I just talked to a girl.” On the same day, he also blushes when he sees that a famous male hero is proctoring their exams. It’s literally so boring as a romantic ship. They have no chemistry as a couple.

edward elric and winry rockbell but SPECIFICALLY in the 2003 anime:

literally in different dimensions by the end! they still have a lot of the hallmarks of "ohh endgame childhood best friends" or whatever but fma 2003 just said. naah. winry got the shortest end of the stick and i feel so bad for her!!! continuity specific straightbait. in every other universe they get married and have kids but screw you two specifically 🙏

mako, korra, and asami:

it's that one meme where the guy ignores his girlfriend to check out another girl, only the two girls get to know each other and get together. S1/2 has love triangle drama between who Mako will be with (Korra or Asami). S3 no one is together but Korra and Asami become really close friends. S4 Korra and Asami are together. Mako is single. Like the only example of exes being good friends and Not getting back together, as well as giving the middle finger to heteronormative assumptions when after the love triangle is over, the two girls get together Shipping the two girls in a love triangle together but it actually happens

pat and ink:

Pat has a crush on Ink early on, and it seems possible at first that she may feel the same way. However, it is later revealed that she actually has a crush on his sister and is a lesbian. It's okay though because then Pat realizes he's in love with his childhood rival and they become wlw mlm solidarity! Everyone wins!

maka albarn and soul evans:

Throughout the series, they have a deep friendship with each other which is consistently extremely important to the story's narrative. In order for them to be able to fight, they must get along and resonate with each other, and due to the mechanics of their world, fighting independently of each other is extremely difficult. In multiple instances, they are shown to be willing to put themselves in harm's way to extreme degrees to keep each other safe. They are even shown to live together. They are The Singular Straight Ship I have ever shipped and I love them. Also they are really cool and Soul can turn into an awesome scythe weapon that like only Maka can wield. And they fight really awesomely together.

luke skywalker and leia organa:

The idea of Luke and Leia was used in advertisements but they obviously decided not to do that. IT’S SO FUNNY. Like, I think this is the closest white straight people will ever get to ‘they were cousins’ing a couple. I looked up advertising to see if it was just in the movie proper or it WAS used to sell it and https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=5z1SziDPKQw&t=118s&pp=2AF2kAIB ‘Luke and Leia: in danger, in love, in Star Wars’ is going to be one of the things that rolls around in my head for ages. It’s not just the whole ‘het love triangle advertises 2nd pairing that everyone knows won’t happen’ like Twilight, it’s the backpeddaling ‘no no it can’t happen, they’re actually siblings! It’d be weird! Ignore the ‘good luck’ kiss and the ‘I’ll be back’ kiss in the medbay and of course the full on make out session scene that happened! And even our own advertising’ Of it all.

good luck everybody! now go vote!

[meanstreetspodcasts]

Episode 585 - Between the Rock and a Hard Place (Gang Busters & Pat Novak For Hire)

Welcome to the Rock! Alcatraz - America's most notorious prison - is the subject of this weeks' show. First, Gang Busters presents a dramatic recreation of the most violent escape attempt in its history in "The Battle of Alcatraz" (originally aired on ABC on May 11, 1946). Then, it's a double feature of Pat Novak For Hire when the gumshoe is caught in a pair of Alcatraz escapes and the hunt for the escapees (episodes known as "Joe Feldman and Father Leahy" - originally aired on ABC on April 2, 1949, and "The Only Way to Make Friends is to Die" - originally aired on ABC on June 18, 1949).

Check out this episode!

[goalhofer]

Where every player played during the 2004-05 NHL lockout: Boston

Czech Extraliga: Jiří Šlégr (H.K. Chemopetrol A.S.) HockeyAllsvenskan: Ian Moran (Bofors I.K.) NL: Joe Thornton (Hockeyclub Davos) SEL: Anders Axelsson (Frölunda Hockeyklubb) EIHL: Nick Boynton (Nottingham Panthers) & Ian Moran (Nottingham Panthers) Liiga: Hal Gill III (Rauman Lukko) & Andrew Raycroft (Tampereen Tappara) RSL: Sergei Gonchar (Metallurg Magnitogorsk) & Sergei Samsonov (K.K. Dynamo Moscow) AHL: Patrice Bergeron (Providence Bruins), Carl Corazzini (Providence Bruins/Hershey Bears), Andy Hilbert (Providence Bruins), Pat Leahy (Providence Bruins), James MacDonald (Lowell Lock Monsters/Omaha Ak-Sar-Ben Knights), Colton Orr (Providence Bruins) & Martin Samuelsson (Providence Bruins) Didn't Play: Travis Green, Martin Lapointe, Dan McGillis & Glen Murray

[toshootforthestars]

From the report by Ken Klippenstein, posted 11 Jan 2024:

Targeting intelligence — the information used to conduct airstrikes and fire long-range artillery weapons — has played a central role in Israel’s siege of Gaza. A document obtained through the Freedom of Information Act suggests that the U.S. Air Force sent officers specializing in this exact form of intelligence to Israel in late November. Since the start of Israel’s bombardment in retaliation for Hamas’s strike on October 7, Israel has dropped more than 29,000 bombs on the tiny Gaza Strip, according to a U.S. intelligence report last month. And for the first time in U.S. history, the Biden administration has been flying surveillance drone missions over Gaza since at least early November, ostensibly for hostage recovery by special forces. At the time the drones were revealed, U.S. Gen. Pat Ryder insisted that the special operations forces deployed to Israel to advise on hostage rescue were “not participating in [Israel Defense Forces] target development.” “I’ve directed my team to share intelligence and deploy additional experts from across the United States government to consult with and advise the Israeli counterparts on hostage recovery efforts,” said President Joe Biden three days after the Hamas attack.  But several weeks later, on November 21, the U.S. Air Force issued deployment guidelines for officers, including intelligence engagement officers, headed to Israel. Experts say that a team of targeting officers like this would be used to provide satellite intelligence to the Israelis for the purpose of offensive targeting. 

* * * * *

“For air advisory missions, which I imagine involve intelligence sharing and training, specific domestic legal restrictions such as the Leahy law and the assassination ban would likely come into play,” [Tyler McBrien, managing editor of Lawfare, a website specializing in national security law] said. But the Leahy vetting process is “reversed” for Israel; rather than vetting Israeli military units beforehand, the U.S. State Department sends aid and then waits for reports of violations, according to a recent article by Josh Paul, who resigned from his post as a State Department political-military officer over his concerns with U.S. support for Israel. “As a general matter, U.S. officials who are providing support to another country during armed conflict would want to make sure they are not aiding and abetting war crimes,” Finucane told The Intercept. He emphasized that the same principle applies to weapons transfers and intelligence sharing. The Israeli military intentionally strikes Palestinian civilian infrastructure, known as “power targets,” in order to “create a shock,” according to an investigation by the Israeli news website +972 Magazine. Targets are generated using an artificial intelligence system known as “Habsora,” Hebrew for “gospel.” “Nothing happens by accident,” an Israeli military intelligence source told +972 Magazine. “When a 3-year-old girl is killed in a home in Gaza, it’s because someone in the army decided it wasn’t a big deal for her to be killed — that it was a price worth paying in order to hit [another] target. We are not Hamas. These are not random rockets. Everything is intentional. We know exactly how much collateral damage there is in every home.” The Biden administration has gone to great lengths to conceal the nature of its support for the Israeli military. The Pentagon quietly tapped a so-called Tiger Team to facilitate weapons assistance to Israel, as The Intercept has previously reported. The administration has also declined to reveal which weapons systems it’s providing Israel and at which quantities, insisting that the secrecy is necessary for security reasons.  “We’re being careful not to quantify or get into too much detail about what they’re getting — for their own operational security purposes, of course,” White House spokesperson John Kirby told reporters during a press briefing in October.  This contrasts with its support for Ukraine, about which it has been far more transparent.

[thenewdemocratus]

Slate Magazine: Beth Ethier: Senate Leader Mitch McConnell Promotes Industrial Hemp

Source:Slate Magazine This might be the only bipartisan bill short of a federal budget and the appropriations bills that Congress may pass this year. At least in the Senate where I think Leader Mitch McConnell will have Democratic support including from Minority Leader Harry Reid and Senator Pat Leahy the Ranking Member of the Judiciary Committee and the two Oregon Senators Ron Wyden and Jeff…

[gilsoulassociates-blog]

Disability Work Without Worry

WYDEN, CASSIDY: ALLOW AMERICANS WITH DISABILITIES TO WORK WITHOUT WORRY

Bipartisan Bill Ensures American with Disabilities Will Not Lose Social Security Benefits for Working

Washington, D.C. – Senate Finance Committee Chairman Ron Wyden, D-Ore., and Senator Bill Cassidy, R-La., today introduced legislation to remove a Social Security work disincentive for Americans with disabilities. The Work Without Worry Act would allow Americans with disabilities to work to their full potential without causing them to lose out on higher Social Security benefits.

“All Americans who wish to work should be able to without disadvantaging themselves in the future,” Wyden said. “Americans with disabilities and their families rely on Social Security’s earned benefits. This bill lets families know that working – not matter how long or at what level of earnings – will not mean their child with a disability will lose out on a higher Social Security benefit in the future.”

“Government should encourage work. Americans with disabilities deserve the freedom to work without worry to secure their own financial future,” said Dr. Cassidy.

If an adult has a severe medical condition that began before age 22, they may be eligible for a Social Security benefit called the Disabled Adult Child (DAC) benefit. Their benefits are based on their parent’s Social Security earnings, in the same way that benefits of a child under age 18 would be. However, under current law some of these young adults fear that if they try to work they will lose future DAC benefits, which are often higher than any benefit they may qualify on their own. This fear inhibits the ability of Americans with disabilities to explore their ability to work as they transition to adult life.

The Work Without Worry Act promotes financial security by ensuring that any earnings from work – no matter how much – will not prevent an individual from receiving a Social Security DAC benefit from their parent’s work history if they have an eligible medical condition that began before age 22. This bill treats all individuals with severe medical conditions that began before age 22 the same – no matter when their parents claim Social Security benefits. This change is estimated to increase Social Security benefits by $100 million and improve the lives of nearly 2,000 individuals with disabilities over the next 10 years.

Additional original co-sponsors include Senators Sherrod Brown, D-Ohio, Amy Klobuchar, D-Minn., Bernie Sanders, D-Vt., Pat Leahy, D-Vt., Jeff Merkley, D-Ore., and Bob Casey, D-Pa. The House of Representatives introduced a companion bill today, led by Congressman John Larson, D-Conn.

A one-page summary of the legislation can be found here.

Legislative text can be found here.

For more information regarding Elder Law, Estate Planning and much more, please visit: www.gilsoul-law.com and click on BLOGS or ARTICLES.

We specialize in Disability, Estate Planning, Medicaid and VA benefits planning, successions (probate), Interdiction’s (guardianship), Trusts and asset protection planning, particularly for the elderly.

We take pride in customizing every client’s plan to their unique needs.  Cookie-cutter planning is not what we offer. This means that we take the time necessary to know our clients, their families, and their circumstances. We emphasize clear communication to our clients to make sure our they understand the options available, allowing the client and us to create the best plan for them and their loved ones.

https://www.gilsoul-law.com/disability-work-without-worry/

[newswireml]

Covfefe, Bigfoot Erotica and Pat Leahy’s Face: A Short, Strange History of Political Twitter#Covfefe #Bigfoot #Erotica #Pat #Leahys #Face #Short #Strange #History #Political #Twitter

Covfefe, Bigfoot Erotica and Pat Leahy’s Face: A Short, Strange History of Political Twitter#Covfefe #Bigfoot #Erotica #Pat #Leahys #Face #Short #Strange #History #Political #Twitter

An era of firsts Not long after Twitter’s launch, big shots and small fries in politics signed up — and, naturally, explained their presence via tweet, no matter how banal. Sen. Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa) was one of the very first politicians to make his debut, in 2007. Attending events in Iowa — Chuck Grassley (@ChuckGrassley) November 26, 2007 loading Mom’s new ipod — tammyduckworth…