#Postal Applications

[alexpdcl]

y'all ever think about them and feel a little warm and runny inside

[aegri-somnia-vana]

⁺✲₊Looking for Friends₊✲⁺

════ ⋆✦⋆ ════ {⛧} Basic Info- ♱┇Collective Name : Cirque ♱┇Gender : Systemfluid ♱┇Default Pronouns : They/It ♱┇Body Age : 22 ♱┇Relationship Status : Taken ♱┇Carrd Link : Here (constant WIP) ════ ⋆✦⋆ ════ {⛧} Interests - ♱┇Hobbies : Drawing, writing, listening to music, watching things (videos, TV, etc.), playing video games, spending time with friends n partners, roleplaying, character making, going for walks, spending time with my pets ♱┇Music : Gorillaz, Jack Stauber, Lemon Demon, Nero's Day at Disneyland, Will Wood, Slipknot, Sewerslvt, Seether, Creep-P, Ghost and Pals, SoaD, R.I.P, Maretu, Kikuo, Mother Mother + more ♱┇Shows : Trinity Blood, Berserk, MHA, FMA, Clone High, Invader Zim, Bigtop Burger, Helluva Boss, DHMIS, HTF, Slenderverse Series, The Mandela Catalogue, The Walten Files, Camp Camp, JJBA, Dungeon Meshi + more ♱┇Games : FFVI, FFVII, Dissidia, Splatoon, OFF, Postal, Sims, Boyfriend to Death, Skyrim, Frost Bite, Digimon, Dragon Age, FAITH, INMIMB, ST:NaF?, Lurking for Love, OMORI, Oxenfree, NItW + more ════ ⋆✦⋆ ════ {⛧} Other Things To Know -

Not cool w/ DMing any minors, pls don't try

I'm mainly active on Discord but trying to be on here more again

Discord's listed in our pinned post

Way more interests and a DNI listed in our carrd

I usually respond pretty fast if I'm not AFK or sleeping

Usually on DNI on Discord to avoid pings, usually happy to talk

Super anxious so i'd prefer to be approached first tagging with some interests n stuff lol-

[thursdayg1rl]

killing myself in front of the houses of parliament to change their life tragectories forever. and then maybe they will consider trying to make life easier for people in abusive situations

[falseandrealultravival]

Japanese Central Government Agency (2) Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications

They make the Postal Service under their supervision do ugly things. If the postal transfer application form was in red, it was customary not to collect the fee from the person making the transfer. However, in reality, more than 110 yen is collected. The already unpopular postal administration and post offices are losing users. The Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications stands out for its palliative behavior. One of the lowest government offices.

Rei Morishita

日本の中央官庁（２）総務省

彼等の麾下の郵政公社にエグイことをやらせている。郵便振替申し込み用紙が「赤字」だったら、振り込むひとからは料金を徴収しないのが慣例だった。しかし実質１１０円以上徴収されている。ただでさえ人気のない郵便行政、郵便局からは利用者がいなくなる。総務省は、姑息な行いが目につく。最低の官庁のひとつ。

[skullduggeryandfilibuster]

Boots theory is still applicable, because the point of it is the reason the rich have more money than the poor is because they spend less money. Which is very much true: they cheap out on their own products and wages, and they get subsidized and tax cuts.

This makes me so sad and also I'm trying to remember if any of the Discworld books dealt with late stage capitalism

[is-today-the-uk-general-election]

NO.

Today is not the day of the UK general election.

There are 16 days remaining until the UK general election.

THERE ARE FEWER THAN 17HS REMAINING TO REGISTER TO VOTE.

In addition, you have:

Under 2 days in which to apply for a postal vote, or for changes to existing proxy votes.

Fewer than 9 days to request a new proxy vote, or alternative photo ID (Voter Authority Certificate or Electoral Identity Card) if voting in person**.

Parliament has now been dissolved.

Voters in Northern Ireland can no longer apply for postal or proxy votes. Please be aware that emergency postal/proxy applications may be processed in exceptional cases; refer to the relevant links for further details.

THE POST YOU ARE SEEING MAY BE OUT OF DATE; PLEASE REFER TO THE POSTING TIMESTAMP. ACTUAL APPLICATION DEADLINES FOUND UNER THE CUT.

There are:

0 days 16hs 59min left to register to vote (deadline 23:59 18 June 2024).

1 day 10hs left to apply for a postal vote, or for changes to existing proxy votes (deadline 17:00 19 June 2024)*.

8 days 10hs left to apply for a new proxy vote (deadline 17:00 26 June 2024)*.

8 days 17hs left to apply for an Electoral Identity Card (Northern Ireland), or 8 days 10hs to apply for a Voter Authority Certificate (rest of the United Kingdom)**.

*Excluding Northern Ireland.

**Only required if you do not have suitable ID, or you no longer resemble your ID photo, or your name as per your ID does not match the name on the voter register.

[thashining]

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A post shared by Joy-Ann Reid (@joyannreid)

Between 10,000 and 20,000 voters in Erie County, Pennsylvania still haven’t received their mail-in ballots, according to a new lawsuit filed by the Pennsylvania Democratic Party.

The lawsuit, filed on Wednesday, says that 40,844 mail-in ballot applications were approved in Erie County but, as of Oct. 28, only 21,536 ballots have been returned — a return rate of 52%, which is 15 percentage points under the state’s average return rate of 67%. Because of this, the plaintiffs alleged that up to 20,000 mail-in ballots requested by Erie County voters were never delivered.

The lawsuit also alleges that more than 300 voters received two mail-in ballots, one of which may not correlate to the local races those voters are eligible to vote for. The plaintiffs also allege that the United States Postal Service has no record of having received 1,800 mail-in ballots from the third-party vendor that the Erie Board of Elections contracted to distribute mail-in ballots.

The lawsuit says the vendor is still “in the process of trying to locate” the lost ballots. Under state law, mail-in ballots are required to be delivered to voters who requested them at least two weeks prior to the election.

The plaintiffs are asking the court to force the Board of Elections to fix the error by releasing the names of all the voters who might have been affected, to allow those voters to cancel their mail-in ballot status and cast a provisional ballot at an in-person polling place.

This might not happen on Nov 5

[rosehipsister]

(low voice) secret samol....

decided to go for a little found materials thing with my sangfielle prompts this year, so it's barely readable haha actual transcripts under the cut because that's a lot to put into alt text

For @aphrddt hope you enjoy it! Thank you @secret-samol

Page 1, marked "5.2" and "Jna -> RvneP -> Ctbk -> Prse" 5:30 train to Perseverance

Mighty excited and grateful (blessing sign) to make my third observation so soon sense the year began. Here's to a great journey and if those gods (blessing sign) willing a striking UMR (Unschola Monthly Review) entry!

(under a sketch of the train emblem) not half bad!! can clean it up back at Mona's

5:29 Left Jahna with a minute to spare. Tough to take the mood in so early, wonder if the Tern has the flighty nature its name suggests. Promised travel time declared 21 hours only, which puts me in Perseverance by nightfall.

Page 2 (next to a scheme of a train car) "Bright Tern Postal, coach car 3" a1, a2 - doors b - windows c - luggage racks Full cherry wood interior with simple glass inlays, light and airy. Four seats per isle, hard seating with roll-up Bright Tern livery cushions affixed every bench.

No sign of a dining car - justified by our size and destination, but still a shame. Yet man can't be picky (blessing sign)

Card included: Train sighting log Day seen: 5th of 2nd month 8xx Place seen: departing from Jahna, Fifth Canton Mandate, Sangfielle Name: Bright Tern Postal Livery: faded cobalt and white Number of carriages: 6 (six) total, with 4 passenger and 2 mail and baggage Boarded: y/n Ticket number if applicable: C3/I2/S3

Page 3 5:55 - drafting for now? After filling out my observation card and taking in the detail, i took a window seat in isle 2 to absorb both the gorgeous scenery of Ojan plains and the bright c (crossed out) airy confines (?) of my train. Bright Tern pamphlet, kindly provided to me at the station, tells the traveler that their person shall be delivered swiftly and safely to Unschola held inns by nightfall. Seasoned ferroequinology fan such as myself in turn knows this ain't always true and schedules are more suggestions than rule.

6:50 Fell asleep promptly despite excitement. Car filled with low relaxed conversation and i can only hope i wasn't snoring like a complete fool.

(next to a sketch of a tea glass holder) akin to burl wood? lightweight and porous to touch

Page 4 Interior unchanged save for three glass holders, such as added to every isle table. I truly am in luck (blessing sign) since I've never seen these in situ before! Why three? Would i have neighbors? Reread my early notes - in need of editing, desperately. SHAPES ON THE TRAIN! 1 masked 1 avian (with arrow pointing from 7:04 timestamp)

7:20, i gather since i had a moment of awe and frankly dared not bring attention to myself at the moment. Yet clearly they do not mind me.

Page 5 Immediately past 7 car visited by a slight ojant. woman of quiet but nasty demeanor wearing Tern colors, heavy tea cart in front, steaming. Was tempted to strike a conversation, but reconsidered. Neither of the Shapes said a word yet. They don't touch the tea either, which is plain silly to me - never have i heard about train foods being nefarious to one's person.

(underlined) No snacks offered yet!

8:40 Insufferable people. Still silent, not even (page break)

Page 6 (page break) a glance in the window. Spent all my patience on detailing one sketch. M. seems to be asleep or sitting terrifyingly still.

8:43 IMPOSSIBLE PEOPLE! Wish they let me be. A. caught me sketching and very rudely grabbed my book. Nearly made me tear a page. If every Shape starts attacking inno- (crossed out) Both are still silent. A. ignored and possibly disrespected my Society badge. Book returned to me moderately crumpled. 9:17 Tern entered a tunnel as we were coming up to the mountain foothills. Terribly intrigued but can't see the devil's arse in there. A. got tired of harassing me and is now fast asleep. M. in turn finally aware of life.

(with arrow pointing at the tea maid sketch) back to our car. for what, just to glower at the shapes?

Page 7 9:20 - still in the dark All curtains rolled down as one! How i wish i knew the mechanism behind this. This further startled an impressionable young man in isle 5, and i admit i was secretly taken with the feeling too, but all were reassured by a returning passenger.

Managed to strike a conversation! Emidio seemed happy to discuss the Tern with me, and i've put a great amount of his observation down in shorthand. Told we're due to arrive at Ravine just some 10 minutes after leaving the tunnel, yet when - varies greatly. Despite being as persistent as i dared, didn't get too much about the dark route we're taking. Hiw can it be that we spend a different time under the peaks QAD and yet make stops with enviable punctuality? My greatest desire is to find any personnel besides the gloomy tea woman, yet not so likely with the Shapes around.

If i am to trust Emidio's words, some of the paper trash rolling under the seats he swears is a rudimentary emdemic life form akin to rootless plants of the west. Still unsure if that's a joke of his.

Page 8 (next to the sketch of a scene) Ravine-Postal 9:50 10:10 Finally back to open sky. Shapes out for a smoke and look almost careless. Sent a postcard back to Society in Jahna. Bought steamed buns of decent taste. Really need to find Emidio and get a good expo for Ravine, but he's nowhere to be found. Way too many insects ouside.

Page 9 10:40 - RvneP -> Cantbank Well, they do talk! Shapes have congratulated me on being through "the worst of it", whatever they meant. Both of them are now quite loud and inconsiderate. A. only laughed when i mentioned his rudeness. I miss the morning quiet.

11:00 Passed a mountain lake which amused us all greatly. At first i thought we're being blinded by the suns, yet the bright shimmer came from dozens of fish, moving through with their sides to the light. A. is particularly taken with the picture.

(next to the sketch) Emidio and the tea maid

Page 10 Spotted Emidio who i started to worry about, since none has seen him since our stop in Ravine. Almost glad to see the tea maid and her cart back in time for the afternoon round.

11:10 - switching tracks? Apparently taking a detour, which everyone is understandable annoyed about. Can't hear even half of the announcement over Shapes as usual. How can M. make so much noise by just walking! Curtains closed back again, so gather i should also walk over and finally as- (text interrupted)

[agirlandherkinks]

Hypnovisor: Beta Test (TGTF, Hypno)

James had always been a tech super-fan. The newest phone, newest headphones, shiniest laptop, he had to stay abreast of and on top of the current trends. So when he read about some fancy new VR company that wanted beta testers for a headset, provided for free (minus shipping), his vision blurred and he signed up before he even considered finishing reading the ad.

Three weeks of anticipation and waiting passed until his doorbell finally rung, accompanied by the corresponding buzz of an email notification on his phone. Scrambling from his couch he flung the apartment door open, and to his mild surprise saw that the postman was nowhere in site. There was just a nondescript cardboard box labelled "Fragile", which fortunately bore none of the expected dents and scratches one would associate with the postal service and delicate freight. Practically bouncing with undignified delight, James scooped his parcel up and dashed back inside, barely remembering to lock the door behind him.

The headset looked even better than he had imagined. Sleek plastic curves surrounded a central visor that was just translucent enough to see through, meaning you could walk around safely if you turned a program's opacity down. It fit beautifully when he tried it on, more comfortable than anything he'd ever worn. Wearing it felt wonderful and... right, somehow. His only complaint was that the black headset was decorated in hot pink highlights, although it still looked futuristic enough to sooth his fragile masculinity. His roommate and best friend Erik certainly agreed, interspersing James' insightful comments with appropriate "Ooh's" and "Aah's". Waiting for the battery to charge seemed to take a thousand years, although chatting with each other about what it could do replaced their boredom with swiftly growing excitement.

Two hours later, a soft buzz from the headset in the corner signified its charge was complete. Erik cheered, his sandy-blonde hair bouncing behind him, and even James couldn't suppress a soft whoop of excitement. Erik unplugged it and handed it to James with a flourish and a bow, who accepted it with a suitable stuffy speech. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he was so giddy with anticipation he felt he could match Erik's goofiness for once. The advertisement had promised unmatched realism, a luxurious fit, and cutting-edge, groundbreaking technology. Normally James would have discounted claims like that as corporate claptrap, but the headset fit so well he actually believed the rest of it.

Booting up the headset brought a perky, relaxing jingle in his ears and wall of settings text in his vision. He would have read it, but between his own excitement and Erik's infectious enthusiasm he left the settings on default and skipped to the main menu. The feedback for the buttons was amazing, it felt just like he was pressing down on them whenever he touched one! Another little jingle sounded as he confirmed his choices, and a few games and applications bubbled up into his view, imposed over a hot pink background.

"So Erik, what do you think I should try," James asked. "We've got a music player, interior design app, some sorta idle monster game, and a few RPG's." "Surely try out the RPG's man! You've gotta see that high-definition you were yammering about when we called." Erik's voice came back surprisingly muffled, as if he was speaking down a long tunnel. "Bro, I can barely hear you, the noise-cancelling on this headset's insane! It's like I'm in a world of my own!" James took a deep breath, recovering a little of his composure. "Alright, an RPG it is. Fantasy, sci-fi, or modern day?" "Go fantasy! You know we've both got a thing for elf chiiiicks. Hell, with the kind of feedback you were telling me about, you might even get to grab her" Erik's distant voice sounded playful, with a ting of desire and jealousy. And it did make James hard, at the thought of getting to look and squeeze and fondle some busty elf bitch, made entirely to his wishes~

To James' horror a quiet moan escaped his lips, accompanied by faint hysterical laughter from his friend. Brushing it off angrily, he slammed the icon for 'Silverflame: A Magical Journey' (the button felt like thick moss to his touch). Instantly a soft flute begun to play in his ears, accompanied by the gentle lull of a harp and a quiet sparkling. James felt himself relax, all the tension draining out of his body. Erik must have noticed too, because James heard his laughter die down to be replaced with a slightly concerned silence. "Don't worry man," James said, "music's just really pretty..." He trailed off with a slight giggle, but heard Erik give an affirmative just before a silky, sultry voice started to speak.

"Welcome traveler, to the beautiful world of Silverflame. An untamed paradise where strange beasts roam the land, noble adventurers go forth in search of treasure, and the most wonderful magic [James shuddered] is woven. You are the latest brave, beautiful heroine [Heroine? Shouldn't I get to choose my character's gender first?] to step foot into this land. But first, tell us a bit about who you really are."

Pink sparkles rained across the screen, superimposing his view of a vibrant meadow with a series of stats. Physique, IQ, Wisdom, and Charisma, fairly standard stuff. And next to it, a human man with a blank, slightly happy expression on his face [...did he look familiar?]. James gasped, he looked just like a real person! Erik was suitably impressed by this information, and urged him to pick some stats so he can get to the body modification. "You can always change them later man, might as well pick a couple of stats now and get a move on. Sounds like you're not gonna get to pick your gender for a while, which kinda sucks. Buuut if we're being horny about this, you might as well go for a slut scaffold so you make less changes later." James chuckled at this, remembering the build they discussed one night while both sloshed beyond belief. For this game it would be high Physique and Charisma, low IQ and Wisdom. James touched the slider for Physique, and gasped as he felt himself feel... better than he had in a long time.

Not trusting his senses any more, and worrying about Erik being exposed to whatever was happening from the other side of the headset, James brushed off his concerned questions (which he could barely hear now, past the soothing, soothing, music) and suggested he went to the toilet, since he'd been holding it in since he got here. Erik grumbled at missing out, but mercifully left. James was actively sweating from what just went through his body, but couldn't muster the energy or concentration to feel the level of panic he knew he should be. The music was just so, so calming, that fear was harder to feel than usual. The prompt told him he still had to change two more stats, so he decided to turn down Wisdom. He gasped again and his vision went blurry, and when it cleared he felt a bit, fuzzier? In the head. But it wasn't too bad, in fact it was perfectly manageable. He felt even calmer now, so maybe changing another stats would make him feel better. Why not IQ? He tapped the slider.

He groaned as an immense pressure wrapped around his brain. Thoughts, aspirations, memories felt like they were melting from his head faster than they appeared. The pressure seemed like it lasted forever, but eventually it trailed off and he was left panting in his chair. It had felt, really good? Like, tots good, even. James giggled to himself. Something was different about him, but he couldn't think what. Oh well, it'll probably come to him later. He squealed in delight as he realized he could get a step closer to the body modification page, although he looked longingly at the IQ slider. He could come back to it later, for now it was time to make his super-hot elf slut a body!

James clapped to himself with delight as a cute little melody played, a shower of sparkles spiraled [spiraled...] across the screen, and the man on the side moved to the center of the screen. "Firstly", the sultry voice said, "choose what race you want to be." That was an easy choice. He clicked on the 'Elf' button, and shivered as he felt tingles run through his body, intensifying in his ears. Reaching up to touch them, he inhaled as he felt long, pointed tips. In fact, his whole body seemed a bit slimmer. This doesn't quite feel right... he thought. Oh I know! It must be making me an elf too! Maybe we'll be in a party together! Between the strange fuzziness and the pulsating heat in his groin, James quickly flicked to the next page and made his choices. Long, silver hair, gorgeous big purple eyes, and some giant perky lips. "Combination unlocked!" the narrator exclaimed, "+1 Charisma, -1 Wisdom!" James giggled again as the mental fog settled a little tighter around his brain and naughty thoughts about cute girls and boys filled his brain. Boys? Well I guess I've never minded swinging both ways... This felt natural to him, because of course he'd always been bisexual. Next screen!

"Choose your voice young heroine," the woman commanded. James felt a little strange, like her voice was echoing around his head. And why were the sparkles still there, spinning and spinning around the screen. He felt confused, but knew he had to obey that voice. He picked the sexiest combination for his own voice; high pitched, breathy, perky. "Combination unlocked! +1 Charisma, -1 Int." He moaned as that wonderful pressure wrapped his brain and his weekend plans changed to eyeing hunks at the beach. Girls were cool and all, but men had always been more interesting to him [and their pulsing, hard...].

"Now heroine, can you tell me: Are you a girl, or a boy?" The question sent shock waves through his brain. He was a he... right? Why did it feel like there was some longing, some need to acknowledge the woman in him... her? The fog, the music, the spirals, all the feelings he had been having, James could hardly think. Maybe he should think less. Being a girl sounded fun, it's just a character after all. And he needed to be sexy. "Wonderful choice young lady! Now, are you a dominatrix, a super-switch, or a bimbo slut?" Bimbo slut~ James giggled as the words echoed in her brain. She was a bit of a slut, now that she thought about it. It felt odd to pick it, but why not for funsies? "Bimbo slut selected! Wonderful choice, just wonderful. Hold still while your stats are adjusted, and then we'll begin on giving you the perfect, sexy body you've always wanted."

The spirals filled her view and began increasing in speed. James was taken aback at first, but quickly felt oddly calm and receptive to that sultry voice.

"Physique +1, Physique +1, Physique +1." James felt wonderful, like every ache and blemish in his body had faded away.

"Wisdom -1, Wisdom -1." Thinking was fuzzy, but Jamella felt so content she didn't care.

"Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1. Charisma +1." Jamella gasped as visions of sexy men, pecs and abs and juicy, throbbing cocks filled her mind. A desperate heat filled her, and she began touching her groin against her will to try and ease it.

"IQ -1." She moaned, feeling light.

"IQ-1." Empty. She was so, wonderfully empty.

"IQ -1." This was like, so much funsies! She didn't know what was going on, but everything felt so nice~

"IQ -1. Congratulations Ella, you now have the 'Bimbo Slut' build."

Ella giggled absently. Thinking was like, so hard, and she felt like, so hard~. The fun spirals had disappeared... But the nice lady was talking to her again! With great effort, she listened in. "Now that your mental changes are complete, it's time for the physical changes!" Ella rubbed her thighs together and cheered in excitement. She couldn't wait to have more fun! "Unless you choose so now, the process will be au-to-ma-tic [...why was she using such big words?]. You can choose to take over at any time, or wait until the end and adjust as you please [...please. That word felt funny in her brain]".

"No user input detected. Body adjustment commencing."

A nice shiver went through Ella's body as she felt her headset warm against her face. Looking at the boring young man she'd begun to customize (her reflection, of course), she couldn't wait to begin! She sighed happily as waves of pretty silver hair drifted into her view and cascaded down her back. It felt especially nice against her smooth, soft skin, and she couldn't help but gently shake her head to watch it sway. A cool feeling brought her attention to her face, and the alluring amethyst eyes now set in it. Her face itself became much more elegant [but cutesy, too!], and she puckered her lips as a lovely pressure made them swell and bulge out, giving her a sexy and kissable pout [the boys'll love this look! boys~]. She felt herself shrink a few centimeters, gulping as her Adam's apple disappeared into her body. In fact, her whole body had become even more slender, with narrow shoulders, adorably small hands [pretty purple nails!], and a tiny little waist. She gasped, then clasped her hands over her mouth in delight. Her voice was so high and cutesy! She couldn't stop herself from giving out tiny, high-pitched giggles, just to hear how cute she was!

"Basic body structure altered. Adjusting outfit in preparation for primary and secondary sexual characteristics."

Ella ooh'ed appreciatively as a stream of sparkles enveloped her body. And when they disappeared, she squealed in delight! Her drab t-shirt and denim shorts were gone! In their place was a beautiful silver mini-dress that shimmered like starlight when she moved. She frowned in vexation, though. The plunging chest and shoulder-less design was very pretty, but her chest was flat! [shouldn't I have tiddies? The boys won't like me like this...] And the way it clung to her waist and hips would have been sexy, but as it was there was barely any difference between them! Her ass wasn't nearly big enough to justify how the dress cut off barely past it, and with how tight the fabric was Ella could see how achingly hard she was [wait, why do I have a cock? I'm supposed to get cock! In my mouth, in my ass, in my tight little pussy~]. It wasn't right!

"Thank you for your patience sweetie. Optimal figure calculated. Prepare for adjustment of sexual characteristics."

Ella let out a moan as a wave of heat and pleasure washed over her. With how horny she was she could barely keep her eyes open, but she knew she wanted to watch herself become the sexy little [cum] slut she was meant to be [I want it... I want to be~]. The heat settled in her hips, her ass, and her chest, and she moaned again as the changes begun.

Her nipples grew first, more than doubling in size and stiffening through the soft fabric of her dress. Tentatively touching them induced a gasp of pleasure [so nice~] and sent her rocking backwards. The motion made her giggle, because in that time she'd grown a cute pair of B-cup breasts that jiggled when she rocked. Jiggle makes me giggle. I like giggling. I like jiggling. Ella nodded thoughtfully to herself, feeling very wise. Her boobies grew to C-cups. She jiggled some more. She giggled some more.

A tightness around her hips distracted Ella from her tiddies. They were growing! She groaned as fabric and flesh tightened around them, too euphoric to feel pain. Sliding her hands from her waist to her hips made her squeal happily. She had such a sexy hourglass figure, she knew any girl worth her money would be jealous [and the boys would wanna hold me and squeeze me and fuck me raw]. Thighs thickening dramatically in response to her growth, she slapped her ass in impatience. Why won't it get bigger already!

But get bigger it did, swelling out in response to her touch. She fell forward as sheer pleasure blanketed her mind and weakened her knees. Squishing her boobies against the ground made her feel even nicer, until she was panting and moaning for somebody to help, to hit her again and make her bigger~

A slap landed on her booty, and she groaned in delight as it and her thighs swelled again. More. More! I NEED MORE! She moaned in ecstasy as blow after blow landed, making her swell and grow and grow and swell and feel so gooooood! Her tits inflated to D, then E-cups [good for the boys. I can jiggle so well for them~]. Her hips widened and thighs thickened, until she looked ridiculously large compared to her waist [ridicu... ridic... really, really sexy...] And her ass kept growing, and growing, and growing and growing and growing and growing! Tighter! Around my cock! Cock... I... oh~ Too... too... much! Too much! I'm~ I'm!

OooOOoOoOOooOoOoooOOOOOHHH~

Ella screamed in delight as she came, just cumming and cumming and cumming her tiny little brain out.

"Wisdom -1. IQ -1. Charisma +1. Charisma +1."

She was desperate, humping against the ground as the flow of cum abated from her cock. Everything she had been was flowing out of her messy stupid brain, and everything that she should be was coming in. Boys... Cock... Need fuck... Breed~ I'm such a dumb little cum slut~ She giggled to herself.

"Final adjustment required."

Ella stood up shakily, the bottom of her dress a cum-soaked mess. She squealed with delight as the mental fog settled even tighter and she felt an intense heat in her groin. She could see the tops of nipples trying to break free from her dress, and could feel the air drift over her ass, which had mostly escaped the fabric in her growth. So sexy. Hehe~ Boy can take me~ Don't even need dress off~ Thinking hard... Her ass and hips had pulled up so much fabric that her cock was visible now, deflating and still leaking from her orgasm, but she gasped in pleasure as it began rising up again. And, as she felt something long and hard brush her booty [cock? Boys? Fuck?].

A pressure like hands on her shoulders forced her to her knees, and she whimpered in desire as she felt an unseen cock touch her cheek. At the same time, something began intensely stimulating her own. She reflexively opened her mouth in a moan, but was cut off as she felt the cock shove inside [Feels~ Feels!].

All thought stopped.

Her mind was blank, full of pleasure and desire and happiness. Her cock felt good like it never had before, and the dick in her mouth tasted wonderful~ This was what Ella was made for, what she was meant to be. Feeling good, feeling sexy, feeling a pleasant emptiness that could only be filled with cock. Her haze reached a crescendo. Dimly she was aware of her own cries of ecstasy, muffled by the cock fucking her mouth and mind, as she came harder than she even had before. And as she came, her dick shrunk with each spurt until it went inside her [inside me!]. The cock withdrew from her mouth, filling her with a desperate longing. Emma moaned for her unseen hero, then gasped as she felt him once more. And blinked in surprise as the pretty meadow and her sexy reflection disappeared.

She was kneeling on the floor of an unfamiliar room. Shaking off a little of her confusion [don't need know much anyways...], she gasped as the tell-tale smell of pre-cum filled her nose. There was a man standing in front of her!

Sandy-blonde hair. Body like a surfer hunk! Naked. With a massive, sexy cock, dripping with her saliva and it's own juices. Ella moaned in desire, falling on all fours. Visibly trembling with lust, he tenderly cupped her cheek and slowly moved behind her.

Touching her with his [cock!].

Ever so gently, on the edge of her [...pussy!!!!]

He rammed inside her, and she screamed as an absolute feeling of rightness, of sexiness and pleasure and single-minded happiness rushed through her [MORE! HARDER! COCKKKK~]. Riding his dick she felt herself go into a trance, with nothing, absolutely nothing, disturbing her feelings. Ever. This was right. Ella moaned and surrendered to herself, drifting away on her lover's cock and mindless pleasure.

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 4

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

I am now uploading this fic on AO3 for those who'd prefer to read it there. You can find it here.

TW: Mentions of Death - Jason always talks about his death

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Chapter 4

Tim thought the letters were a stupid idea.

And maybe he had a point, not that Jason asked for his opinion. It was his memorial foundation. He died for the right to set stupid parameters for his scholarships. Besides, it wasn’t like you were the only one to receive a scholarship. He picked two other students from the pool of applicants.

One wanted to be a doctor and work at the Martha and Thomas Wayne clinic in Park Row where she grew up. Another wanted to study law so they could provide pro-bono representation for people who couldn’t afford it. Three scholarships didn’t seem like nearly enough, but it was a step in the right direction. Maybe he’ll expand it to five next year. There was plenty of money in the foundation.

You were the only one he asked for letters from—not because he didn’t want to hear from the other two—he just figured you’d appreciate the parallel to your favorite novel more than they did. Irony was delicious, and it seemed more fitting for a writer.

Or at least, he thought that would be the case.

The new semester started that week, and Jason might have been excited to hear from you. Giddy was a better word, but he had a reputation to consider. He checked the PO box daily in anticipation of your first letter.

The first week passed.

Nothing.

He texted Tim. You’re sure she accepted the scholarship?

His response: Srsly? Get a life.

Rude, but whatever. Tim already confirmed you accepted—several times now. Jason even saw the finished paperwork with your signature (only because Tim wanted him off his back). Asking again wasn’t going to change his answer.

Jason shrugged off his initial disappointment. You would write to him, er, Bruce Wayne next week.

No one paid him any mind as he approached the PO box the following week. He wore street clothes, another variation of joggers and sweatshirts because it was too much effort to figure out his aesthetic as Stephanie had told him. Seriously, he had no idea what the fuck lunarcore was. Unlocking the box, a frustrated growl rumbled in his chest, earning him some startled looks from the postal workers behind the counter.

Empty.

Again.

Maybe he overestimated your appreciation for poetic irony. Or Tim had lied to him about you accepting the scholarship. He always expected Tim to get back at him for the Tower incident one day. Psychological warfare seemed more his speed.

If all of this—you, the Jason Todd Memorial foundation and scholarship—had been a cruel joke, it might be enough to break him.

He grabbed his phone to text him. Halfway through, a notification appeared at the bottom of the text box.

Tiny Tim Drake has notifications silenced.

Jason gritted his teeth and slammed the ‘notify anyway’ button before sending three more texts in quick succession—just to spite him. By the third text, he was notified that it couldn’t be delivered. Jason swore under his breath. The bastard blocked him.

He slammed the door closed, rattling the middle-aged worker who sorted mail in the corner. His fingers curled and uncurled as he breathed through the irritation welling in his chest. Irritation could quickly turn to anger and anger was… well, destructive.

At one point, anger was all he knew. It burned at the center of his chest, hot and bright. He spent so long feeding the flames, and for what? Acting on his violent urges rarely left him satisfied when the smoke cleared.

But there wasn’t always anger. Frustration, certainly. He had been frustrated with the hand he was dealt. Park Row was unkind but he managed to look past the shit and chose happiness instead. Smiling wasn’t a chore. Robin gave him magic—before it was ripped away from him.

If he chose happiness once, Jason believed he could do it again. He just wasn’t sure how.

Jason stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, other passerby parting around him like water around a boulder. These letters. They were supposed to make him happy. He needed to speak with you.

But how?

And as who?

Jason Todd was supposed to be dead—killed abroad in a terrorist attack. A tragic hero in the story Bruce fabricated to hide the truth. A ghost. Nothing more.

The nameless man you met in passing on the subway didn’t know your name, let alone where to find you.

But you knew Red Hood. He knew about the writing program, just not that it had panned out for you.

You even shared the general location of where you lived…

He shook his head to dislodge the plan slowly forming in his head. Getting involved was a bad idea. You didn’t need him meddling any more than he already had.

Jason was intelligent—certainly. One didn’t spend their life tucked between the pages of a book or working for the Batman and not learn a little common sense. He recognized all the different ways this could blow up in his face, and yet…

One last time, he promised himself as he continued toward his apartment. Once he spoke with you, he could move on with his life.

But first, he needed to change.

***

The air cooled significantly with the setting sun, enough to sting his skin as he navigated the rooftops of Park Row. For someone like Jason, who always ran a few degrees hot, it was a welcome change. His footfalls stayed surprisingly light for a man of his stature, not that anyone was around to appreciate it (nor would they have heard him coming until it was too late).

As he closed in on your complex, he counted the windows to find your apartment. His efforts were moot because, well, there you sat on your fire escape with a notebook balanced on your knees. No yellow hoodie this time.

Jason slowed his stride, assessing how best to make his presence known without startling you.

Your gaze shifted up as he reached the edge of the adjacent roof, pinpointing where he hid amid the shadows. He froze. How did you…? You squinted; another hard expression tinged with what he could only describe as morbid amusement.

“Stalking isn’t a good look for you.”

He hopped down to join her on the escape, the iron groaning under his heavy boots. “I’m just checking in to make sure you haven’t gotten into any more trouble.” Even Jason heard how lame that excuse was, especially given you hadn’t been the one to seek out trouble in the first place.

You, of course, called him on it. “Bullshit.”

“Standard protocol,” he insisted, though he sounded less certain.

“I wasn’t aware the Red Hood followed protocol. Doesn’t really seem like your style.” You tapped your pen thoughtfully on your notebook before adding, “You track down every person that you save, weeks after the incident occurred?”

“I happened to see you,” he tried again, grateful that his modulator hid the desperation in his tone, “So, I decided to see how you were doing with the…” He threw up his hands in defeat. “How are you?”

Not even the Red Hood alias saved him from his painfully awkward attempts at small talk. His fingers flexed at his side. He had a nasty habit of fidgeting under pressure, and your discerning gaze stressed him out. You already clocked him as a liar. What was stopping you from connecting the dots between this and everything else?

When you failed to respond in favor of staring at him, he asked, “Do you look at everyone like this?”

You blinked. “Like what?”

“Like the world is out to get you.”

“You saved me from getting mugged the first time we met.”

False. You were trapped with him on a subway while he rambled about books for ten minutes the first time you two crossed paths, but he caught his tongue between his teeth before he admitted it.

“I think I’m allowed to be wary of people, especially when they wear masks and track me down at my home to check in.”

A flush crept down his neck. “Noted. This is weird, isn’t it.”

“A little weird,” you agreed.

“If it counts for anything, I’m aware that I'm not very good at this,” he admitted.

Your expression softened. “Or maybe I’m being a little harsh. I’m sorry. I’m just—I’m a little overwhelmed right now.”

“Why?”

“For starters, the semester started two weeks ago?”

Jason jumped at the opportunity to talk about your classes. “Does that mean you got a scholarship?”

“That’s the other part. I did. It’s a Wayne Foundation scholarship. Real niche, I guess. It wasn’t even listed on their website when I applied. Now it is, so maybe I just missed it, but…” You sighed. “Now they expect me to write letters to Bruce Wayne every two weeks.”

“And you don’t want to?” he asked, fearing the answer.

“It’s not that,” you insisted, “I don’t mind it, I guess, but writing them seems a little old-fashioned. It would be easier to send an email instead.”

“Maybe he finds emails impersonal,” Jason muttered before he could stop himself. Emails would also require Jason to have a business email, and that was a little too corporate for his blood.

“I get it. He’s old, but I didn’t think he was that old.”

Jason flinched. People, mostly adults, called him an old soul. He used to preen under their attention, believing it was a compliment, but being called old outright—by you—didn’t feel as good.

“But there’s something romantic int the art of writing letters,” he insisted.

You shot him a dubious look—a favorite in your arsenal of guarded mistrust, it seemed. “Romantic?”

“I-I mean, not in the context of romance, but through the lens of an idealized reality. Picturesque, idyllic, pick your favorite synonym. I’ve always been partial to quixotic myself. Not enough words starting with the letter q.” More blood rushed to his face. This was going south and fast if he was talking about his favorite synonyms. He should have left well-enough alone and gotten a life as Tim suggested.

You exhaled sharply. It was almost a laugh, but not quite. “No one said he’d ever write me back. Honestly, I doubt he’ll even read my letters. Who has the time to read about what I’m learning in French?”

Jason perked up. “You’re taking French?”

“I want to read Victor Hugo in its original language.”

He curled and uncurled his fingers—excitement this time. Bruce might not care about your schooling, but he wanted to know everything. Your thoughts and opinions, which classes were your favorite, and whether you joined any extracurriculars. It allowed him to close his eyes and act like he was there too. Some might call it selfish, but he could live with that.

You sighed and uncapped your pen. “Technically, I needed to send a letter last week, but I’m not sure what to write. I want to make a good first impression, just in case he does read them. What if he decides I’m not the right fit for the scholarship and rescinds the offer?”

His heart sank. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“I want to be witty and charming, but everything sounds wrong as soon as I get it on paper.”

If that was all you were worried about, Jason felt infinitely better. He didn’t want you to pretend for his—er, for Bruce’s sake. “I think you should write what feels good to you. The foundation picked you for a reason, so I think he’d know if you’re pretending to be something you’re not.”

You eyed him curiously. “Is it standard protocol to give unsolicited advice?”

He shrugged. “I’m a man of depth and multitudes.”

You laughed at that, and his heart swelled. It was a nice laugh.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

Your eyes sparkled. “It’s everything I ever wanted and more.”

“I bet it is.” Jason curbed the whisper of jealousy that curled in his chest and focused on the good he was doing instead. You looked happy, and that was all that mattered. “I’m glad someone took a chance on you.”

Before you could respond, his comm beeped with an incoming message. He swore under his breath. “One second.” He popped onto the roof to put some distance between you and him before answering. “What?”

“Have you sufficiently wallowed in your failure?” Artemis asked coolly.

Her voice, while not unwelcome, left him a little disoriented. They hadn’t really spoken since he dipped a few weeks ago. It usually fell to him to keep the channels open, and he’d been a little distracted, so hearing from her without his reaching out first was a little unexpected.

“Maybe.”

She clicked her tongue. “We have a new bid from a new client. We await our fearless leader before we proceed, but only if he pulls his head out of his ass first.”

Jason ground his teeth. “When?”

“In a month, so wipe your tears and try not to be late. I am happy to step in as leader in your stead. Or we could call Nightwing to replace you. Or the one called Orphan? I hear the Gotham lot are interchangeable.”

It was hard not to take everything she said as a personal attack, but he was used to her blunt tone. It was her way of knocking some sense into him. He usually deserved to be bullied, and this time wasn’t any different. The Outlaws needed him. They weren’t always on a job, but this was the longest stretch of time he’d gone without reaching out since they decided to work together. Another job might be exactly what he needed to get over… whatever this was with you.

“Message received.” He chuckled a little. Loud and fucking clear. “Send me the details. I’ll be there. You still as the safehouse?”

“Yes.” The line went dead.

Artemis also wasn’t that big on goodbyes.

Jason sighed and hopped down to join you once more. You peered at him over the edge of your notebook. “Duty calls?”

“Uh, yeah, I have to—” He left it there. The less you knew about his work, the better. Some clients were more unsavory than others, and he didn’t know fuck all about this one. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your classes. Good luck with your first semester.”

You shot him a mock salute. “See you around, Hood.”

He hoped not. Seeing you again gave him the closure he needed, but indulging himself could easily turn into a slippery slope, one he wasn’t too keen to take. From here on out, it would be the letters, and that’s it.

[stellar-skyy]

hihi! an iced english breakfast tea with father figure blade?

“iced english breakfast tea here, for... ah, who was it? Oh, of course! Blade!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: While on a trip, you receive a letter from a certain Stellaron Hunter. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. PLATONIC blade & gn!reader, brief silver wolf & reader, kafka & reader. father figure!blade. found family fluff. 0.5k words. iii. A/N: hi anon! this request was actually much further in the queue, but i finished it quickly so i thought i might as well post it now.

The letter is penned on bright white paper, covered in small creases that have been smoothed out. The writing on it is small, with some parts crossed out and rewritten, filling the entire page. In the corner is a small series of doodles in purple ink, crude drawings of the three Stellaron Hunters and you. The envelope is beside it with the wax seal broken, smelling faintly of spider lilies.

Inside, it reads:

[Name],

I hope this letter reaches you well, if it reaches you in the first place. I must admit I am skeptical of the effectiveness of the intergalactic postal system, but it isn’t as if there is another way to contact you, aside from tossing the letter into outer space and hoping it finds its way to the planet you are currently on.

I think this is the longest it’s been without seeing you since you were young. It is much too quiet without you around; Silver Wolf has attempted to fill the silence, but I hardly understand what she is talking about half of the time and I do not care to ask. When you return, you will have to inform me what ‘dps’ and ‘maxed out’ means, because I know asking her now will only give me a long-winded spiel about those video games she is obsessed with.

Despite you being gone several weeks now, it’s still been difficult to adjust to having one fewer member of the group. I have been turning the corner, expecting you to be there waiting for me, but I am constantly finding myself alone. Kafka tells me it’s the mother hen instincts, but she doesn’t know what she is talking about.

Silver Wolf has been asking about you non-stop, telling me she wants her Player Two back. She made me play with her for a bit, but according to her, I’m so terrible at the games that it isn’t even fun to beat me. I’m not sure what she means, she beats you all the time anyway, but when I told her that she just rolled her eyes.

Kafka misses you too, though she’s at least got enough emotional maturity to admit that out loud instead of sulking. When she found out I was writing this letter, she made me promise to tell you she can’t wait to see you again, and you’d better be taking care of yourself. I think she feels the same as I do, even as she teases me for it. Things just aren’t the same with one less person.

I know you’re wondering about me, but I’ll keep it short—I’m fine. My condition is no better than you last saw me, but it is no worse either. You don’t have to worry, and I mean that with honesty.

I trust you are using this well-deserved break to its fullest, taking in the sights and not causing any excess trouble. Elio doesn’t allow vacations very often—it’s a wonder he approved this one, with all the missions he’s sent us on lately—so make sure you take advantage of it. If you are in a tough situation, you only need to remember what Kafka and I have taught you: hit them fast and hard, and don’t leave any witnesses.

Be safe. I’ll see you soon.

Blade

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[averixus]

To anyone who gets Personal Independence Payment (UK disability benefit) and has trouble with the types of communication they usually use (e.g. phone): I have just successfully got the DWP to promise that they will contact me by email only. If you want to do this, or need other adjustments in communication for disability reasons, email the address format.pip@dwp.gov.uk.

The magic formula to include in your email is:

"I am writing to request a reasonable adjustment in communication." (that's the legal jargon for them meeting your needs)

"I have [condition/s] and am defined as disabled under the Equality Act 2010." (that's the law that forces them to comply - you don't need specific diagnoses but can say e.g. "auditory processing issues" or whatever brief summary describes you)

"Due to my disabilities I am unable to communicate with the DWP by phonecall [or give any other communication types or formats you can't do]." (be brief but specific, you don't need to explain exactly why this need follows from your disabilities as long as you state that it does)

"Therefore, I need [your specific communication requirements] when communicating with the DWP." (tell them exactly what you actually need - for example, I said that I need asynchronous text-based communication such as email for both when the DWP contacts me and when I need to contact them directly. I specified that this includes assessments as well as any other contact about my PIP status or application. This means no in-person assessments!)

"Please contact me to confirm that the DWP will [meet your needs as requested]." (always ask for receipts)

"[Your full name], [your National Insurance number]." (make sure they can find your case)

And please feel free to share this info with anyone you think may need it! No need to refer to me or anything, just get it out there 👍 It's actually illega for them to not have already made this info public alongside their phone numbers and postal addresses, so.

[loadedberetta]

the nightmares continue

24 hours countdown to my life taking a complete 180 (getting my permission to move countries) or naw (getting rejected and going back to my dayjob where I live now)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Andy Craig for The UnPopulist:

Despite what you may have heard, Elon Musk holds no official position in the United States government. He has not been elected to serve in any capacity. Nor has he been appointed, let alone confirmed, by Congress to any role that grants him legal authority over public policy or federal operations. Yet he has now seized core government powers, with the apparent approval of President Donald Trump. He has directed the shutdown of government departments, commandeered federal resources, and dictated policy decisions—all without taking the oath to uphold the Constitution that every public servant, from the president to a postal worker, is required to swear. The so-called Department of Government Efficiency was ostensibly created by an executive order rebranding the U.S. Digital Service, an information technology advisory organization within the Executive Office of the President. USDS, a technology unit, was created by President Obama in the aftermath of the healthcare.gov debacle, and has been funded by Congress for the purpose of making recommendations for better IT practices across the government. Per Trump’s order, USDS was rebranded as the “US DOGE Service” and retains the same abbreviation. Confusingly, the order also establishes within USDS the “U.S. DOGE Service Temporary Organization,” which is what Musk has been calling the “Department of Government Efficiency.” Of course, nothing in Trump’s order purports to give DOGE any operational authority over government agencies, which would require an act of Congress. More importantly, Musk has not been appointed to any official role at DOGE, whatever DOGE is. As far as anyone can tell, he is still just a private citizen, and has not complied with any of the laws applicable to federal employees and officials, such as disclosures and divestments to avoid conflicts of interest. And since he has not actually been appointed to anything, neither has he satisfied the most fundamental requirement for government officials: swearing an oath to the Constitution. Even his purported title has not been consistent, variously described as the “head,” “chair,” “co-chair” (before Vivek Ramaswamy’s departure), or “leader” of DOGE. To be clear, Musk has no more lawful authority to start barking orders at government agencies than you or I would as random private citizens walking in off the street. He is not in anybody’s chain of command. He does not have lawful access to government systems and resources. Public officials should not recognize his claimed authority over them. If Trump wants to invoke constitutional executive authority, he can do it through the proper channels—but Musk is not the president of the United States and he has not been empowered as a legally valid conduit for the president’s orders. The constitutional oath is not some ceremonial technicality. It is the cornerstone of legal legitimacy—the defining feature of who counts as “the government” in this country. Article VI, Clause 3 of the Constitution explicitly mandates that, “the Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution.” This requirement ensures that those entrusted with public authority are legally and morally bound to uphold the constitutional framework.

Without this oath, there are no legal powers, no public trust, and no constitutional authority. Musk is operating entirely outside this framework. He has not sworn to uphold the Constitution because he holds no position that would require it, yet he has been claiming and exercising power more expansively than any officeholder short of the president himself. Unlike the president, Musk cannot be impeached, because he holds no office. Unlike a cabinet secretary, his authorities are not defined by law. Unlike a civil servant, he cannot be subject to ethics or transparency laws. He governs without the constraints that define our system of government, and this amounts to an astonishing breakdown of the constitutional order.

Government by Oligarch Edict

The extent of Musk’s informal control is staggering. His companies—Tesla, SpaceX, and X (formerly Twitter)—have long been intertwined with government contracts and subsidies. But Musk has moved from being a corporate beneficiary to an unelected autocrat. Since Trump’s inauguration on Jan. 20, Musk has taken over key government functions, including direct control over the Treasury’s payment system. This system, the federal government’s financial lifeline, determines which agencies, contractors, and programs receive funding. It is, in essence, the federal government’s checkbook. Musk claims he has frozen payments to organizations he disapproves of, canceled allocations based on personal grievances, and redirected funds—all without congressional approval or legal oversight. It’s not clear exactly how real some of Musk’s claims are. On X, after disgraced former Gen. Mike Flynn flagged Lutheran Family Services as objectionable, Musk claimed they would be cut off. LFS is a joint collaboration of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) and the more conservative Lutheran Church Missouri Synod (LCMS). It contracts for a wide range of healthcare and social services—for example, providing behavioral healthcare to at-risk children. There is no obvious reason why this organization would attract ire; LCMS is hardly anybody’s idea of a “woke” denomination. But it’s also unknown if Musk has done anything more than post about them on X. Musk’s interference doesn’t stop with the Treasury. He has reportedly gained access to classified and sensitive information across multiple federal agencies, bypassing security clearance protocols. He created a novel system to mass email federal employees by way of the Office of Personnel Management, bypassing normal chains of command, while locking out those actually responsible for these systems. (One result being all 13,000 employees of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration were bombarded with obscene spam when the unsecured all-staff email address leaked.) Through this, he has offered a confusing “buyout” scheme—a rehashed version of one he sent to Twitter employees he sought to purge after acquiring the platform—to all federal employees, offering several months of pay in exchange for resigning, despite no such program or funding being authorized by Congress.

Over the weekend, Musk ordered the shutdown of USAID, the United States’ primary foreign aid agency, instructing its employees to stay home indefinitely. In a confrontation at USAID headquarters, Musk’s deputies—many reportedly very young and unqualified, one even a literal teenager—threatened to call U.S. Marshals to obtain access at gunpoint. When USAID’s head of security refused, he was placed on leave, though it is again murky on whose authority. These are not the actions of a private citizen offering policy advice; these are the decisions of someone in actual control over the government.

[...] The United States was not meant to be ruled by unchecked lawless power. Our deepest commitment embodied by the Constitution is to be governed by elected representatives, constrained by law, accountable to the people, and subject to certain guaranteed rights. That system, for all its imperfections, is now being dismantled before our eyes. The question is whether we will recognize this crisis for what it is, and whether we will act to stop it before it’s too late.

Elon Musk, who Americans didn’t elect, has become the co-dictator of America. #MuskCoup

See Also:

The Contrarian: CONSTITUTIONAL STANDOFF

Mother Jones: Nobody Voted for Elon Musk

[is-today-the-uk-general-election]

NO.

Today is not the day of the UK general election.

There is 1 day remaining until the UK general election.

Parliament has now been dissolved. You can no longer register to vote, apply for a postal or proxy vote, or request alternative photo ID. Please be aware that emergency postal/proxy applications may be processed in exceptional cases; refer to the relevant links for further details.

THE POST YOU ARE SEEING MAY BE OUT OF DATE; PLEASE REFER TO THE POSTING TIMESTAMP.

[sitp-recs]

Hey Liv, I was sure you had an epistolary list somewhere, but I can’t seem to find it.

Would you have some recs for me? It doesn’t have to be full epistolary, as long as there are a few letters exchanged.

Thank you

Hi anon! I’m pretty sure I have an epistolary list somewhere but for some reason I can’t access my masterlists atm (which is mildly concerning lol I hope it’s just an app glitch on my phone) but in any case here are some recs for you!

Re: Harry's Crush by @lettersbyelise (T, 4k)

Ever get that feeling you're being talked about behind your back? Harry doesn't, he's too busy being stupidly, obviously besotted with the guy in the lab downstairs.

Garden War by @cibeewastaken (T, 5k)

Harry and Draco are quarantined in their houses, a lake across from one another. What better ways to spend this time than to annoy each other with letters and attempts to prove that their garden is better ?

Lettered by pir8fancier (M, 8k)

Harry has a secret penpal, whose identity is as plain as the nose on his face. Except he's not wearing his glasses.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (T, 10k)

Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping.

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (M, 15k)

Every single one of Harry’s exes has gone on to marry the next person they date, and with the upcoming nuptials of numbers six and seven to each other, Harry’s feeling exhausted by it all. It doesn’t really matter if he lets people assume Draco Malfoy is his boyfriend for a moment of peace. In any case, Draco’s been away for five years and there’s no way he would find out, right?

Let's Go Outside by cryptonym (E, 24k)

Harry's done with the sofa, the hall and the kitchen table, baby.

On Our Way by evils (E, 30k)

Draco is trying to spend the summer keeping his head down, but a repair project and a certain snowy owl have other plans for him.

Howlr by partialtopotter (E, 47k)

Howlr is the new dating application enchanting Witches, Wizards and Everyone in between. Are you looking for the one or a one-night stand; it’s all here folks. Howlr is sponsored by Weasley Wizard Wheezes, the same team that brought us the Spellular just two years ago. Ginny Weasley, famed chaser for the Hollyhead Harpies, swears by the app, ‘guaranteed to make sparks fly,’ she says. The magic awaits you!

Catch 22 by jad (E, 50k)

As if NEWTS weren't enough, Dumbledore's gone and had another one of his 'bright ideas.' If all ends well, the Houses will be getting along in no time. Or according to Harry's correspondent, an Apocalypse will be in order.

Bonus: art!

Going Postal by dustmouth (T)

So Draco and Harry sort of maybe have a bit of a thing going. Which is all fine and good, but would probably be more effective if they managed to be on the same continent for more than five minutes at a time.