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infiniteglitterfall · 8 months ago

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A Chabad synagogue in Pomona, New York, burned to the ground on April 17th, along with its three Torah scrolls.

Torah scrolls are hand-written, hand-made, and kept in elaborately decorated cases or wrappings.

Many of them have long histories; my synagogue has two, I think, that were smuggled out of villages being destroyed in pogroms or in Nazi attacks. One of them is the only remaining piece of that village on earth.

Sometimes, the Torah scroll doesn't even belong to the synagogue, but is on loan from a place like the Memorial Scrolls Trust:

There's an entire Jewish holiday just for taking them out and dancing with them: Simchat Torah, "The Joy of Torah."

In fact, that was the holiday on which Hamas's invasion took place.

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So it's a particular tragedy when a Torah is destroyed.

Chabad itself has a page about what goes into making just one Torah scroll:

"An authentic Torah scroll is a mind-boggling masterpiece of labor and skill. Comprising between 62 and 84 sheets of parchment -- cured, tanned, scraped and prepared according to exacting Torah law specifications -- and containing exactly 304,805 letters, the resulting handwritten scroll takes many months to complete.

"An expert pious scribe carefully inks each letter with a feather quill, under the intricate calligraphic guidelines of Ktav Ashurit (Ashurite Script). The sheets of parchment are then sewn together with sinews to form one long scroll. While most Torah scrolls stand around two feet in height and weigh 20-25 pounds, some are huge and quite heavy, while others are doll-sized and lightweight."

I learned all of this on Tumblr.

Once upon time, in people's "punch Nazis" days, I would've been able to find some mention on Tumblr of this synagogue burning.

There is none, so I'm posting about it.

And I'm going to quote Daniel Weiner, Rabbi of Temple de Hirsch Sinai in Bellevue, Washington, when his own synagogue was vandalized last November:

"It’s horrific and heartbreaking.... [Taking out your feelings about] what's going on in the Middle East by defacing a sacred space of a synagogue -- that’s the very definition of antisemitism."

I'm also posting about the Kehillat Shaarei Torah Synagogue in Toronto, whose windows were broken on Friday, April 19th, by someone who also tried to break the front door down.

And the April 15 graffiti outside a Bangor, Maine synagogue that said, "Nazi Israel 30K murdered," next to a crossed-out Star of David. The same synagogue faced pro-Hamas flyers plastered around it in November.

I was going to include all the synagogues vandalized over the past six months. But there are way too many. Several every week. Lots are swastikas.

I'll go back to just doing attacks on and near synagogues.

Someone has to talk about the 1-year-old who was stabbed outside Temple Beth Zion-Beth Israel (BZBI) synagogue, in Philadelphia, on April 13th.

The foiled terrorist attack on a Moscow synagogue on April 11th.

The man who, on April 9th, screamed at the rabbi at Moldova's Great Synagogue, "What are you doing here? How come no one has finished you off for everything you are doing to the Palestinians?" Just one week after people had vandalized a Holocaust memorial in nearby Soroka, and sprayed "Free Palestine" on it.

The Oldenburg, Germany synagogue that was firebombed on April 5th.

The Florida Las Olas Chabad Jewish Center, which on March 16 burned, but not to the ground. The Torah scrolls were safe, and no one was hurt, but the back of the building was severely damaged.

The planned-but-thwarted-on-March-7th ISIS massacre in a Moscow synagogue.

The stabbing of an Orthodox Jew in Switzerland on March 5th. (He was badly injured, but expected to survive.)

A man leaving a synagogue in Paris was beaten on March 3rd.

People set the courtyard of a synagogue in Sfax, Tunisia on fire on February 27th. Firefighters managed to put the fire out before it consumed the inside of the building.

The synagogue is no longer used; there are no Jews left in its area, and fewer than 1,000 Jews left in Tunisia overall.

(Thousands of Tunisian Jews were sent to work camps during the Holocaust. Antisemitism across the Middle East continued to increase rapidly for decades. By the 1970s, 90% of Tunisian Jews had fled to France or Israel.)

On February 18, an Orthodox Jew leaving Synagogue of Inverrary-Chabad in Lauderhill, Florida, was beaten by an attacker yelling racial slurs.

Someone deliberately chose International Holocaust Remembrance Day, January 27, to smash all the windows in the front of Sgoolai Israel Synagogue in downtown Fredericton, New Brunswick.

On December 29, Turkey arrested 32 people linked to ISIS who were planning attacks on synagogues and churches.

On December 17, a man drove a U-Haul truck up onto the sidewalk between a barrier and the front door of the Kesher Israel Congregation in Washington D.C., got out, and started yelling "Gas the Jews." He also sprayed a foul-smelling substance on two people leaving the synagogue.

December 17 also saw 400 synagogues across the United States receive bomb threats.

On December 11, a man attacked an elderly couple on their way into a synagogue in Los Angeles, screaming, "Give me your earrings, Jew!!" and beating one of them bloody with a belt. (Happily, he chased the guy down the street, and caught him when his pants fell down.)

On December 10, a 16-year-old was arrested in Vienna for planning an attack on a synagogue.

On December 8, on the first night of Hanukkah, 15 synagogues in New York State received bomb threats. And someone screamed, "Free Palestine," and fired shots outside of Temple Israel in Albany, NY. Which has a preschool that was in session.

Meanwhile, the five Jews left in Egypt were canceling public Hanukkah candle-lighting at their synagogue out of fear of reprisals. Particularly after two Israelis in Alexandria had been gunned down by terrorists on October 8. (While Israel was still fighting Hamas in Israel.)

On November 15, a terrorist group set the only synagogue in Armenia on fire.

Armenian Secret Army for the Liberation of Armenia (ASALA) has a history of working with the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP).

(PFLP is part of Hamas's network of groups. Samidoun is their nonprofit arm - which is why Germany banned Samidoun last year, although it's still active in many other countries.

PFLP is also actively supported by the Palestinian Youth Movement (PYM), a diaspora nonprofit group, and Within Our Lifetime (WOL), an SJP spinoff in NYC.)

On November 11, halfway through Shabbat services, police asked Central Shul in Melbourne, Australia to evacuate "as a precaution" due to a "pro-Palestinian" protest that had chosen the neighboring park as its gathering place. Australia has seen some very outspoken antisemitism at protests, including the march shortly after October 7 that chanted "Gas the Jews."

Also on November 11, protesters targeted a synagogue along a march route. They sat in their cars, spraying green smoke and shouting at people leaving the synagogue. The march itself featured a record number of horrifying signs and chants.

On November 7th, Congregation Beth Tikvah in Montreal was firebombed, and the back door of the Jewish organization across the street (Federation CJA) was set on fire.

On November 4, protesters chanted "Bomb Israel," and burned an Israeli flag outside the only synagogue in Malmo, Sweden.

During October, there were 501 antisemitic acts under investigation in France in just three weeks, including groups gathering in front of synagogues shouting threats, and graffiti such as the words “killing Jews is a duty” sprayed outside a stadium.

On October 18, people firebombed a synagogue in Berlin after homes all over the neighborhood were graffitied with stars of David.

And also on October 18, hundreds of "pro-Palestine" rioters attacked the Or Zaruah Synagogue, in the Spanish enclave of Melilla in North Africa, while worshippers were inside.

Based on the video, they seem to have blocked the synagogue entrance completely, while screaming "Murderous Israel" and waving Palestinian flags. (Melilla is an autonomous zone belonging to Spain. It borders Morocco.)

On October 17, during pro-Palestinian protests, hundreds of rioters set fire to Al Hammah synagogue, an abandoned house of prayer in central Tunisia. They hammered down the building’s walls and raised a Palestinian flag on the building. Police did not intervene.

The Facebook page "Tunigate", which has around 88 thousand followers, published a video of the assault. So did "Radio Bousalem”, with 83 thousand users. The vast majority of comments on these videos welcome these acts. The building was severely damaged and almost completely razed to the ground.

On October 15, bomb threats were sent to many East Coast synagogues. Attleboro synagogue Congregation Agudas-Achim received one of the emails, which read, "The bombs will blow up in a few hours. A lot of people will die. You all deserve to die."

On October 8 -- again, while Hamas was still in Israel -- Madrid’s main synagogue was defaced with graffiti that read “Free Palestine” next to a crossed-out Star of David.

And on October 7, an assailant in Rockland, NY fired a BB gun at two women entering a synagogue. Later in the month, a banner at the Stephen Wise Free Synagogue in the area was vandalized with the words, “Fuckin kikes."

#if you have used “Free Palestine” as if it's a sort of verbal assault you can shout in comments or scribble over flyers #if you are unwilling to hear what the Jewish term Zionism means to the people who use it #if you cannot name one Palestinian human rights activist #and most of all if you don't know how Hamas abuses Palestinians and you still think it's The Resistance #then you. are. the. problem.#if you don't know people in gaza have been protesting Hamas and blaming it for deliberately instigating a war they don't want #if you don't know how often they've spoken out about Hamas stealing aid and selling it to them #and especially if you don't want to believe me much less find Palestinians in Gaza to listen to #also if you didn't know about any of the stuff in this post BUT you have taken it upon yourself to tell Jews that “it's not antisemitism”#like seriously everyone deal with your learned distrust of Jews challenge #wall of words #fire tw #guns tw #violence tw #Instagram

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reasonsforhope · 4 months ago

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"At the University of Maine, one of the world’s largest 3D printers is using sawdust from the state’s lumber industry to 3D print cozy wooden cabins.

It’s part of a move towards making 3D printing faster and more sustainable in a state where the housing shortage that has metastasized in most states around the country is dire.

It’s thought that 80,000 new homes will be needed over the next 5 years to keep pace with demand, and though it takes years for building codes to be changed, the technicians at the Advanced Structures & Composites Center (ASCC) at the Univ. of Maine hope their new toy can help address this need.

Guinness World Records certified the machine at ASCC as the world’s largest prototype polymer 3D printer, capable of creating a 600 square foot house 96 feet in length, 36 feet in width, and 18 feet tall entirely out of bio-based material at a rate of 500 pounds per hour.

In 2022, it could print the walls, floors, and roof of the house in just 96 hours, but the ACSS has been refining the design with the hope of doubling the printing speed and getting it down to a 48-hour timeline.

“When they’re doing concrete, they’re only printing the walls,” Habib Dagher, the executive director of ACSS told CNN. “The approach we’ve taken is quite different from what you’ve seen, and you’ve been reading about for years.”

Indeed, GNN has reported on a fair number of 3D printing projects, but most if not all involve printing only the walls. One fantastical exception is an Italian firm that is 3D-printing domed, beehive-like, modular concept homes inspired by the Great Enclosure in Zimbabwe.

STAND-OUT 3D-PRINTING PROJECTS:

First 2-Story Home to be 3D Printed in the U.S. Reaches for the Sky in Texas

The World’s Largest 3D Printed Building is a Horse Barn That Can Endure Florida Hurricanes

This 23-Year-Old Founder is 3D Printing Schools in Madagascar Aiming to be a ‘Stepping Stone’ for the Community

A Startup Is Using Recycled Plastic to 3D Print Tiny $25,000 Prefabricated Homes in LA

The ASCC is calling the house design the BioHome3D, and says it’s rare people who tour the concept version don’t ask when they “can have one up?”

The interior gives the feel of a modern Scandinavian wooden cabin, making it fit well with the Maine aesthetic. The ASCC is now doing work on how to incorporate conduits for wiring and plumbing “exactly where an architect would want them,” says Dagher.

WATCH a time-lapse video of the printer doing the job…

youtube

-via Good News Network, August 16, 2024. Video via The University of Maine, March 3, 2023.

#3d printing #housing #housing crisis #3d printed #architecture #sustainable architecture #biomaterials #maine #united states #good news #hope #Youtube

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theivorybilledwoodpecker · 1 year ago

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Was that supposed to do anything? Jello wiggles. Worms wiggle. Lots of things wiggle. It doesn't make everything a person.

And regardless of whether you see an embryo as a person, no one is obligated to let anything or anyone live inside their body.

Marlena Stell had an incomplete miscarriage. That’s when the fetus starts to miscarry but doesn’t exit the body. She was forced to wait 2 weeks with a dead fetus inside her before she got treatment.

Amanda Zurawski had premature dilation. The pregnancy was previability, and the fetus would not survive. But it still had a heartbeat, so she had to wait before getting an abortion. She went into septic shock.

Mylissa Farmer’s water broke early. Too early for the baby to survive. The hospital said it couldn’t treat her. She reached out to her senator…who referred her to an antiabortion crisis pregnancy. She reached out to her state attorney general…who simply never got back to her. She had to travel out of state for an abortion.

The 10-year-old from Ohio was fucking raped. She had to go out of state for an abortion. “Prolifers” said she should have been forced to give birth.

The 16-year-old from Florida was sentenced to parenthood by a judge who thought her grades showed she was too irresponsible for an abortion…but clearly responsible enough to raise a child…with no job or parents ti support her.

The 15-year-old from Florida was raped and had to leave the state for an abortion.

Nancy Davis was pregnant with a headless fetus. She had to travel out of state for an abortion.

Elizabeth Weller’s water broke early. Previability. But the fetus had a heartbeat, so Elizabeth had to wait for infection to set in before she got an abortion.

Anya Cook had her water break early. But she had to lose almost half her blood before getting treated.

Kelly Shannon had a fetus with multiple health defects. Even if it survived to 9 months, it likely wouldn’t survive labor. She had to travel out of state for an abortion.

Jessica Bernardo’s fetus would have either died before birth or lived a few hours or days after birth. Jessica became very ill…but not ill enough to qualify for an abortion. So she had to travel out of state for one.

Kierstan Hogan’s water broke early. 19 weeks. The doctors couldn’t perform an abortion. She was told that if she left the hospital to seek treatment in another state, it could be used as evidence against her in a court of law. She had to give birth to her stillborn son in a bathroom.

Taylor Edwards had to leave the state to get an abortion for a nonviable fetus that was risking her health.

Kylie Beaton’s fetus had a fatal brain condition, but she was denied an abortion.

Samantha Casiano had a fetus missing most of the brain and skull. She couldn’t afford to travel out of state, so she was forced to give birth.

Lauren Van Vleet had to leave the state to get an abortion for a nonviable fetus that was risking her health.

Austin Dennard had a fetus with ancephaly. She had to travel out of state for an abortion.

Lauren Miller was pregnant with twins, but one twin had a condition that endangered her life and the life of the other twin. She had to leave the state to have fetal reduction surgery.

Jaci Statton had a molar pregnancy. That’s cancerous. She was told to wait in the parking lot until she was sick enough to get an abortion.

Kristina Cruickshank had blood-filled cysts. She had to wait 5 days to get an abortion for a nonviable pregnancy.

Tara George’s fetus would not survive outside the womb. Giving birth would risk Tara’s life. She was forced to travel out of state for an abortion.

Kailee DeSpain’s fetus would be stillborn or die shortly after birth. Continuing the pregnancy would endanger Kailee’s life. She had to travel out of state for an abortion.

Deborah Dorbert’s fetus was nonviable. They knew that if he was born, he would live a short, painful life. Deborah wanted an abortion to prevent his pain, but she was denied one. So she gave birth to Milo. He lived 99 minutes. As his parents watched him die, he made hiccupping sounds. They soon realized that was him struggling to breathe. May every forced birther hear that sound in their dreams.

Mayron Hollis had to get a fucking hysterectomy because doctors didn’t give her an abortion.

Gabriella Gonzalez had to travel out of state to abort her abusive boyfriend’s fetus. When she returned, he murdered her. Forced birthers commented on a video showing her mother and sister sobbing that fathers had rights too, that it was her fault for being with the man, that she should have just swallowed.

Kristen Anya’s water broke early. She had to go into sepsis before being treated.

Heather Maberry was forced to travel out of state to abort a headless fetus.

Melissa Novak was miscarrying. She should have been given both mifepristone and misoprostol. But she was only given misoprostol. You know because how much litigation is going on around mifepristone. She went into septic shock.

Kayla Smith had to leave the state to get an abortion for a nonviable fetus that was risking her health.

Lauren Christensen’s fetus had organ failure, which would likely lead to Lauren’a organs failing. She had to leave the state for an abortion.

Beth Long’s fetus’ organs were outside its body. But her insurance doesn’t cover abortions that aren’t to save the life of the mother. Good old Hyde amendment! So she had to find an out of state hospital that gave them a discounted rate. When her husband wrote to DeWine, the same DeWine that once thought ectopic pregnancies could be saved, DeWine took months to reply, and never bothered to learn Beth’s name.

Anabely Lopes had to leave the state to abort a fetus with a fatal birth defect.

Christina Zielke was miscarrying. Despite filling diapers with blood, she was sent home. She passed the fuck out and needed to call paramedics.

Kaitlyn Joshua was miscarrying. Her jeans were soaked with blood. But the fetus had a heart beat. No D&C for Kaitlyn, she had to miscarry at home.

Lauren Hall had to leave the state to get an abortion for a nonviable fetus that was risking her health.

Carmen Broesder had to experience a 19-day miscarriage because of delays in treatment. She documented it on tiktok. You should watch it. You could use a good nightmare.

Jill Hartle had to leave the state to get an abortion for a nonviable fetus.

Brittany Vidrine had to leave the state to abort a headless fetus.

The Jane Doe had an ectopic pregnancy rupture after an anti-abortion pregnancy center told her she had a normal pregnancy.

Emily Doe, whose fetus had lungs that wouldn’t develop and had no kidneys. The pregnancy had the potential to endanger her health…but it wasn’t endangering it yet. So she had to flee Missouri for an abortion.

Victoria Doe from Louisiana, who had to go to Oregon for an abortion.

8 week embryo doing a wiggle

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mariacallous · 3 months ago

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Her trans daughter made the volleyball team. Then an armed officer showed up.

Jessica Norton eased her minivan out of the driveway, and she told herself she’d done what any mother would. Her daughter Elizabeth had wanted to play high school volleyball, and Norton had let her. Norton had written female on the permission slips. She’d run practice drills in the yard, and she’d driven this minivan to matches all across their suburban Florida county.

A bumper sticker on the back said “mom.” A rainbow pin tacked inside read “safe with me.” Norton and Elizabeth had spent hours laughing and singing in this extended cab chariot. But this time, Norton had decided to leave her daughter at home.

“Good luck!” the teenager called. “Don’t get fired!”

Until recently, Norton had worked at the high school Elizabeth attended. But last fall, an armed officer with the Broward County Public Schools Police had told Norton she was under investigation for allowing Elizabeth to play girls sports. District leaders banned Norton from the building. They discussed the investigation on the local news, and soon, everyone in Coconut Creek seemed to know Elizabeth is transgender. (Norton asked The Washington Post to use the child’s middle name to protect her privacy.)

In the nine months since, school officials had talked about Elizabeth as if she were dangerous, but Norton knew they couldn’t possibly be picturing the 16-year-old who stood at the edge of the driveway in Taylor Swift Crocs. This girl loved Squishmallows and Disney World. She had long red hair, and she was so skinny, the principal described her to investigators as “frail.”

Elizabeth didn’t have an advantage, Norton thought. She was a normal teenage girl, and yet her very existence had thrust them into one of the nation’s most contentious debates.

Over the last few years, half the country, including Florida, had banned trans girls from playing on girls teams. Proponents of the laws argued that they were fighting for fairness, and the debate had spilled into the stands with an anger that worried Norton. Critics called trans competitors “cheats.” Crowds booed teenage athletes. And some spectators had begun eyeing cisgender competitors for signs of masculinity.

For all that fury, though, no one had been punished yet under one of the bans. Soon, Norton feared, she might become the first. The Broward County School Board planned to take up her case that afternoon, and the agenda included only one proposed outcome: termination.

Norton drove toward her fate and felt nauseous. This life had not been the one she envisioned, but she’d done all she could to ensure it was a good one for her daughter. And she’d succeeded. Before the investigation, Elizabeth had been happy. She’d been a homecoming princess and class president two years in a row. She had friends, near-perfect grades and blue eyes that lit up when she talked about the future.

Now, Elizabeth stayed home and read hateful comments on the internet. She didn’t play sports. She hadn’t been back to Monarch High School.

Norton wanted the light in her daughter’s eyes back. She wanted Elizabeth to have prom and graduation, senior pictures, all the little hallmarks of a teenage life. But first, Norton told herself, she had to fight for her job. She had to return to the school district that shunned her, then somehow she had to convince Elizabeth it was safe for her to go back, too.

Norton was born in Florida in the mid-1970s. She grew up hearing about gay people and drag queens, but the first time she learned about trans children, she was skeptical.

It was 2007. Norton was pregnant with Elizabeth, and she’d turned on the television. Barbara Walters was interviewing a 6-year-old girl she described as “one of the youngest known cases of an early transition from male to female.”

The girl, Jazz Jennings, was cute, Norton thought, but the dispatch unsettled her. How could someone that young know anything about their gender? How could a parent let their kid change their name and appearance?

When Norton gave birth that October, her husband, Gary, picked out a boy’s name, and she bought blue onesies. But almost as soon as Elizabeth could talk, she told her parents she was a girl.

At first, Norton thought their child was confused or maybe gay. Elizabeth begged to wear pink, and she threw tantrums when Norton called her a boy. They fought over backpacks and lunch boxes, school uniforms, haircuts. Norton tried to explain the difference between boys’ and girls’ bodies, but Elizabeth never relented.

“I’m a girl,” she said.

One day in 2013, while Elizabeth was at kindergarten, Norton turned on the TV, and she saw Jazz again. The little girl had a lot in common with Elizabeth. They both loved mermaids. They liked sports, and they seemed to know exactly who they were. Ever since Jazz could talk, her mother said, she had been “consistent, persistent and insistent” that she was a girl.

Oh my god, Norton thought. My kid isn’t gay. My kid is transgender.

Norton collapsed into her couch and sobbed. She didn’t know how to raise a trans child. What if she let Elizabeth transition, then Elizabeth decided she wasn’t a girl? What if someone hurt her?

Norton kept trying to raise Elizabeth as a boy, but eventually, she grew tired of fighting. One afternoon, when Elizabeth was 5 or 6, she asked to wear one of her sister’s outfits to a concert and Norton said yes.

Elizabeth picked a teal ruffle shirt dress with a leopard print. She pulled on a pair of leggings, and when they got to the show, she skipped down the street. Norton had never seen her look that happy.

Though those early years felt hard, South Florida turned out to be an easy place to raise a trans child. The Nortons live in Broward County, a left-leaning community that includes Fort Lauderdale, and its school district was among the first in the United States to adopt a nondiscrimination policy for gender identity. In 2014, when Elizabeth was in first grade, the district released an LGBTQ critical support guide, a wide-ranging document that affirmed trans students’ right to play on sports teams that aligned with their identity.

The superintendent hosted “LGBTQ roundtables” to help parents whose kids were gay or trans. Norton recalled that at one meeting in 2016, she asked if it was possible to change Elizabeth’s name and gender marker on her school records, and he told her yes. (The superintendent later told investigators and The Post he does not remember this conversation, but other people who attended submitted affidavits affirming Norton’s recollection.)

Norton was so excited, she went to Elizabeth’s school that day and asked the assistant principal to make the change.

Norton has always been an involved parent. She volunteered a few times a week at the schools Elizabeth and her two older children attended, and the experience was so positive, she decided she wanted to work in education, too. In the spring of 2017, Monarch High School posted a $15-an-hour job for a library media clerk, and Norton applied even though the job paid $13,000 a year less than she earned as a cake decorator at Publix.

A few months after Norton started, she learned the school board was considering a resolution to create an LGBT history month. Elizabeth said she wanted to testify, so they spent a weekend writing a speech together.

Norton was nervous as they headed inside, but Elizabeth rocked on her heels, excited. She wore her favorite teal dress and a purple headband, and she smiled with all her teeth showing as she and her parents approached the podium.

“I openly transitioned two years ago,” Elizabeth said. “It was the best time of my life. I got to be who I was born to be.”

Elizabeth was 10 then. She’d always had a beautiful face, and people never seemed to look at her and see anything other than girl, but as the school year wore on, she told Norton she worried what would happen once she started puberty.

Norton found a pediatric endocrinologist, and the doctor prescribed a monthly testosterone-blocking shot. As long as Elizabeth took the injection, her voice wouldn’t deepen, she wouldn’t grow facial hair and her body wouldn’t become more muscular the way a boy’s would.

After Elizabeth finished elementary school, she told Norton she didn’t want people to know she was trans. Her new middle school pulled from three elementaries, and most of the kids there had no idea she had ever used another name. She told Norton she wanted to be “a basic White girl,” the kind who wore leggings and drank pumpkin spice lattes, and Norton understood. Most middle-schoolers want to blend in.

The coronavirus shut down schools the next spring, and Elizabeth spent the rest of sixth grade and part of seventh learning online. But Florida was among the first states to reopen, and when Lyons Creek officials announced students could return, they also welcomed kids to try out for sports teams.

Elizabeth was ecstatic. She went everywhere that fall with a volleyball in her hand. She tossed it in the house, and she used the garage door as a rebounder to practice her jump serve. But when she tried out for the team, she didn’t make it past the first cut.

She came home disappointed and told Norton she wanted to get better. Norton didn’t know how to play, but she offered to help. They spent most of the next year in the street outside their house, running “pepper” drills where two people pass, set and hit the ball back and forth.

Norton’s wrists stung by the end of their sessions, but Elizabeth always seemed more energized. Next year, Elizabeth vowed, she would make the team.

As Elizabeth headed into the yard each night, volleyball in hand, she believed the only thing that could keep her off a team was her own ability.

For much of her life, all the big sports associations allowed trans athletes to compete, and most states did, too. Some required athletes to show proof they were taking hormones or blockers, but a dozen states, including Florida, had no restrictions at all. As long as a student could show their gender identity was consistent, they could play.

Trans people represent less than 1 percent of the country’s population, and for decades, state lawmakers rarely mentioned them. But as gay people won protections and the right to marry, LGTBQ+ rights groups and right-wing leaders began looking for new issues to galvanize supporters. Both turned their attention to trans rights.

The community was slowly becoming more visible. Trans people ran for office and appeared on TV, and 17 million people watched as Caitlyn Jenner came out on “20/20.” Trans athletes almost never dominated. But between 2017 and 2019, two trans girls beat cisgender competitors at state track meets in Connecticut, and leading conservative Christian groups warned that other girls would lose athletic opportunities if trans girls continued to compete.

Over the next few years, Florida and two dozen other states passed nearly identical bans on trans girls in sports. Many Republican lawmakers spoke about trans athletes as if they were all the same — tall and muscular, physically dominant, grown men cross-dressing for the sake of a secondary school athletic win. The bill sponsors didn’t mention trans girls who never went through puberty. They hardly ever talked about children like Elizabeth who tried and failed to make a seventh grade team. By 2023, multiple polls, including one by The Post and KFF, found that two-thirds of Americans agreed that trans girls should not be allowed to play girls sports.

Trans athletes remain very rare. A 2021 Associated Press analysis of 20 proposed state bans found that legislators in most couldn’t point to a single trans athlete in their own region. And in Florida, state records show that just two trans girls have played girls sports over the last decade — a bowler who graduated in 2019 and Elizabeth.

Norton doesn’t follow the news, but a friend told her about Florida’s ban the summer before Elizabeth started eighth grade, so Norton went online to read the details. The statute doesn’t list any penalties for young athletes. Instead, it allows competitors who feel they’ve been harmed by a trans athlete to sue that student’s school.

Norton thought Elizabeth might be okay. She had started estrogen by then, and few people knew she was trans. Plus, Coconut Creek still seemed like a safe place. Two weeks after Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) signed the bill, in June 2021, the Broward County School Board unanimously adopted a resolution opposing the ban.

Still, Norton wanted assurance. That summer, with backing from the LGBTQ+ advocacy group Human Rights Campaign Foundation, Norton filed a pseudonymous lawsuit challenging the Fairness in Women’s Sports Act. She didn’t mention any schools. She didn’t use her last name, and she didn’t list Elizabeth’s name.

Norton assumed she’d prevail. A federal judge appointed by President Donald Trump in Idaho had already ruled that that state’s ban was likely unconstitutional and did nothing to ensure the fairness of girls sports.

Norton and Elizabeth never talked about the lawsuit. Instead, they watched the Tokyo Summer Olympics, and Elizabeth fell even more in love with volleyball. As they streamed the Games, Norton researched, and she learned that the International Olympic Committee allowed trans girls and women to compete as long as their testosterone levels were low and they’d identified as female for four years. Elizabeth met all those qualifications. Because she started puberty blockers before her body began making testosterone, her hormone levels looked like any other girl’s.

Though research on the subject remains limited,multiple studies have found that testosterone is the only driver of athletic differences between the sexes. The hormone can give a person a larger physical stature, denser bones and a greater capacity to build muscle. Without it, a trans girl like Elizabeth likely has no physical advantage, researchers have found.

Florida’s new law didn’t make sense to Norton. Elizabeth could compete at the Olympics, but state lawmakers didn’t want her on a middle school team.

Norton had Elizabeth’s birth certificate amended that year, and by the time Elizabeth started eighth grade, she was legally female. When she asked to try out for volleyball again, Norton filled out the paperwork. Next to “sex,” Norton wrote “F.”

When Elizabeth made the cut, she rushed out to tell Norton. She was shocked. She’d been afraid to really hit the ball, she said. She’d tapped it, and the coach had urged her to play harder.

They celebrated at a sports grill, and Elizabeth was too excited to eat. She’d wanted to be on a team with other girls, and now she was.

Elizabeth started high school the next year. She was good enough to make the varsity volleyball team, but she rarely left the bench, and Monarch lost more matches than it won that season. Still, she loved playing. The coach later told the South Florida Sun-Sentinel that Elizabeth “brought an energy” to the team. Other players described her as the team “favorite.”

By then, Norton had become the school’s information management specialist, and she took on a slew of extra jobs to help kids with their student service hours and senior class activities. Norton was so busy, she largely forgot about the lawsuit she’d filed. Her lawyer called her every few months to give her an update, but she didn’t understand much of what he said.

Elizabeth won a starting spot as the volleyball team’s middle blocker her sophomore year. She was 5-foot-8, one of the team’s tallest players, so the coach put her near the net to play defense. She scored a few points over the course of the season, but she wasn’t a hitter. Players need a lot of power to spike a ball the other team can’t return. Elizabeth was 112 pounds and not especially muscular.

Monarch made it to the district semifinals, but its season ended that October with a 3-0 loss to Stoneman Douglas. MaxPreps ranked Monarch 218th out of the state’s 300 girls’ volleyball teams.

Three weeks later, a Trump-appointed district judge dismissed Norton’s lawsuit. The law was not discriminatory, U.S. District Judge Roy Altman found, because it didn’t apply to all transgender students. Trans boys could still play boys sports, he noted.

When the lawyer called to tell Norton the news, she felt the briefest flash of panic. Oh no, she thought. What if they come after me?

Later that month, at the tail end of Thanksgiving break, a work friend asked Norton if she’d seen the email an assistant principal had sent. Norton tried to look, but her school email had stopped working.

There’s a mandatory meeting tomorrow morning, the friend said. It sounds serious.

Norton felt uneasy as she drove Elizabeth to school the next day. She’d heard rumors that some of the boys on the football team lived outside of the district, and she worried she’d be held accountable because her job included overseeing student records.

At the all-staff meeting, an administrator explained that the district had reassigned the school’s principal pending an investigation. Norton felt confused. Everyone liked the principal. He seemed like a stand-up guy, not at all the kind of person who would break district policies.

After the meeting, Norton’s manager told her the school district’s police chief needed to talk to her. Norton met the chief and a school district representative in the principal’s office, and she felt intimidated. The officer was armed. He sat next to Norton, then handed her a written notice and told her she was under investigation.

The notice was inscrutable, just a run of numbers and legalese. Norton told the chief she didn’t understand, and he said she had caused Monarch to break the Fairness in Women’s Sports Act.

Elizabeth, Norton thought. They’re going to ruin my child’s life.

The chief told Norton she was banned from the high school and would have to turn in her keys and laptop, but he assured her the investigation was confidential. No one would know Elizabeth was the reason Norton was in trouble unless Norton told them herself.

Norton spent the next two hours panicking. She called her lawyer, but she was too inconsolable to make out whole sentences. What if she lost her job? What if someone went after Elizabeth?

Just before 11 a.m., Elizabeth texted. She’d looked on the location-tracking app Life360 and seen Norton was at home. Their pet boxer Walter had been sick all weekend, and Elizabeth worried the dog had taken a turn for the worse.

“You’re scaring me,” Elizabeth wrote. “Is Walter OK?”

Norton paced the living room. It took her 20 minutes to work up the nerve, but finally, she called Elizabeth and told her Walter was fine.

Elizabeth asked if Norton had done something wrong, and when Norton said no, Elizabeth asked what happened.

“I don’t want to tell you,” Norton said.

“It has to do with me, doesn’t it?” Elizabeth asked.

She started sobbing before Norton could answer. She asked Norton to pick her up, but Norton told her she wasn’t allowed. A few minutes after they got off the phone, a school employee called. Elizabeth had gone missing.

“Where is she?” the woman asked. “It’s all over the news. Everyone knows.”

Norton checked Life360, and she could see that Elizabeth had left Monarch. Norton asked her husband, Gary, to pick their daughter up, and when they arrived home, Elizabeth ate a pint of ice cream and Gary turned on the news.

A local station called it a “campus controversy.” Reporters said that Norton, the principal and three others had been reassigned because they allowed a transgender student to play volleyball.

News crews showed pictures of Norton and footage of Elizabeth’s team. The reporters didn’t say Elizabeth’s name,but the district released Norton’s, and everyone at school knew Norton had a daughter on the volleyball team.

The phone rang. Norton didn’t recognize the number, so she rejected it, and a man left a snickering voice message.

“So you got a son who likes to sneak into women’s bathrooms?” he asked.

Neither Norton nor Elizabeth left the house the next day. They hid while reporters knocked on the front door, and they watched TV. The local news reported that hundreds of Monarch students had walked out to protest the district’s decision.

Elizabeth was allowed to go back any time, but she told Norton she was scared. What if everyone looked at her, searching for signs of boy where they once saw girl? And what if someone tried to beat her up?

Elizabeth had never been quick to talk about her feelings, but in the weeks that followed, Norton could sense something had changed. Elizabeth spent hours in bed. She told Norton she didn’t care about any of it but pored over online comments about what had happened. That December, Norton’s older daughter came home for the holidays, and she told Norton she could hear Elizabeth through their shared wall. Elizabeth wasn’t sleeping. She was awake, sobbing.

The investigation began that winter. District officials sent Norton to do janitorial work and manual labor at a warehouse, then they interviewed people about Elizabeth. In late January, two officers questioned Norton. They pressed her about the day in 2016 she asked Elizabeth’s elementary school to change her gender marker.

Norton told them every detail she could remember, but she didn’t understand why they were asking. She hadn’t even worked for the school district then. She was just a parent, and as far as she understood, she hadn’t done anything illegal.

A few weeks later, an officer brought Norton a redacted copy of the investigation, then told her a professional standards committee would recommend a punishment within a few months.

Norton read the document at her dining room table, and she felt angry as she made her way through. The then-superintendent had told reporters that an anonymous constituent had called the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and told him a trans girl was playing on the volleyball team. But the informant wasn’t just a constituent, Norton learned. He was a Broward County School Board member. (The former superintendent could not be reached for comment.)

The board had changed considerably in the five years since Elizabeth had testified and thanked its members for keeping her safe. DeSantis had removed several elected board members and replaced them with his own delegates.

The investigation showed that one of DeSantis’s appointees asked the district to investigate Norton. The volleyball season was over by the time Daniel Foganholi reported Elizabeth, but Foganholi told investigators he had received an anonymous phone call “advising that a male student was playing female sports at Monarch High School.” (Foganholi did not respond to requests for comment.)

The investigators’ report was more than 500 pages long, and it took Norton a few days to finish reading. Nearly every page angered her. The officers had spent considerable time trying to find out what Elizabeth looked like. They asked a district administrator to comb Elizabeth’s files and tell them how much she weighed every year between 2013 and 2017. They pushed multiple adults to describe her physically, and they asked three girls on the volleyball team if they’d ever seen Elizabeth undressed. No, the girls said. No one ever used the locker room.

The investigation included transcripts of every interview the officers conducted, and as Norton read, she saw that the officers had repeatedly called Elizabeth “he” in those discussions. On two occasions, the transcripts showed, one detective called Elizabeth “it.” (The investigation is a public document, and The Post reviewed this document and 200 other pages related to the investigation.)

A week before they interviewed Norton, the file showed, they talked to Elizabeth’s middle school guidance counselor, and they asked her to tell them about Elizabeth’s transition. The counselor said she was worried she’d break the law if she did, but an officer told her she wouldn’t.

“No,” the officer said. “I am the law.”

As Norton neared the end of the document, she realized at least some district leaders had known Elizabeth was transgender long before Thanksgiving break. The investigation showed that in 2021, three weeks after Norton filed the lawsuit, the district’s lawyer asked for Elizabeth’s records.

What changed, Norton wondered? Why was the district investigating her now?

Winter turned to spring, and Elizabeth did not return to Monarch. She’d only go back, she said, if Norton went, too.

Norton enrolled Elizabeth in virtual school, but she rarely did more than an hour of classwork. Mostly, she played “Fortnite.” In the game, no one knew what was going on at her school. She was just a girl, spinning across the screen in pink hair and a Nike jumpsuit.

By spring, she was failing geometry. Norton spent most of her time at the book warehouse where she’d been reassigned, but one day in early April, she called in sick so she could spend time with Elizabeth.

Norton waited most of the morning, but Elizabeth didn’t emerge from her room. Finally, at noon, Norton knocked, then pushed Elizabeth’s door open. She was asleep, tucked into a pair of purple floral sheets she’d bought at Target after seeing the same set in a Taylor Swift video.

“Wake up,” Norton said. “We’re going to lunch.”

They drove to a Cheesecake Factory a few minutes from their house. Elizabeth barely talked. After they finished, Norton asked if she wanted to go to Sephora to buy the pistachio-scented Brazilian Crush perfume they both wore.

“Just in and out, okay?” Elizabeth said. “School is getting out soon.”

They made it maybe 20 feet before two teenagers waved. Elizabeth swung right, then disappeared, but Norton didn’t have on her glasses, so she didn’t notice the girls until they were right in front of her.

“Mrs. Norton!” one said. “We miss you!”

Norton scanned the street, but she didn’t see Elizabeth. She wished the girls luck in school, then she found Elizabeth hiding in a row of eyebrow pencils. The perfume was too expensive, Elizabeth said. She left without buying anything.

On the way home, they drove past Monarch, and Norton teared up. She suddenly understood all that Elizabeth might lose. Every year, the seniors paint their parking spots. Elizabeth had already made plans to decorate hers with lyrics from Taylor Swift’s “You’re on Your Own, Kid,” but now, Norton thought, she might never paint one. She probably wouldn’t go to prom. She wouldn’t take senior pictures. She wouldn’t give the graduation speech she’d already started writing.

When they got home late that evening, a certified letter was waiting. Ultimately, the school board would decide Norton’s fate, but the letter said the committee had reviewed the investigative report, and they’d found sufficient evidence to show Norton had broken Florida law.

“The disciplinary recommendation,” it said, “is a termination.”

Norton’s high school salary had always covered their necessities and little else. She worried she’d soon lose even that, so as the investigation dragged on, she took a side job selling merchandise at concerts across South Florida. The Friday night before her scheduled board hearing, she was working a Carlos Santana show when a friend texted to say the board had removed Norton’s name from the Tuesday agenda.

Norton’s stomach sank. She was tired of being silent. She decided she would go to the meeting. She would sign up for public testimony, and she’d tell the school board what had happened to her daughter.

As Norton and her husband sat in the audience that Tuesday, she could feel her heart rate climb. She looked down at her Apple Watch: 110, 120.She worried she might have a heart attack before she reached the podium.

The board reappointed dozens of employees, memorialized three young students, then finally, two hours into the meeting, they called Norton’s name.

She and her husband walked to the microphone, and Norton smoothed her floral dress.

“We are here to speak for our family and tell you how careless actions by the district’s leadership have affected our daughter and our family,” she said.

She had waited 203 days for an answer, she told them. She had done manual labor. She had answered every question, and she had sat through an interview where a detective refused to use her daughter’s legal name or gender.

Norton teared up as she spoke. Her daughter was an innocent 16-year-old girl, she said. Yes, she had played volleyball, but she had done so much more at Monarch. Her peers had chosen her for the homecoming court and student government. She had been flourishing, Norton said, but the district’s investigation had ruined that.

“It’s okay if I’m the villain in their story,” she said, “because I’m the hero in my daughter’s story.”

Things started to change after Norton’s speech. The district set a new hearing for late July, and a number of school board members told the South Florida Sun-Sentinel they didn’t want to fire Norton.

On her way to the final meeting, Norton fiddled anxiously with the minivan’s stereo. As part of an earlier board discussion, one member had asked for other employee discipline data. A reporter had posted the findings that morning while Jessica did her makeup. Adults who’d abused children had served one- and five-day suspensions. A teacher who’d slapped a child received a letter of reprimand.

“They’re recommending a harsher punishment for me than for people who abused kids,” Norton told her husband as she drove.

A dozen people registered to speak. Former students told the board Norton was the reason they made it to college. Most people asked the board not to fire her, but as Norton watched, she couldn’t tell what the district officials might do.

Some said the investigation was flawed. They described Norton as a scapegoat and said Elizabeth had suffered enough. But the chair, a former stay-at-home mom who joined the board after her daughter was killed in the Parkland shooting, said she believed any employee who breaks the law should be punished.

Like the investigation itself, much of the board’s discussion centered on the day Norton asked Elizabeth’s elementary school to change her records. Though Norton hadn’t worked at the district then, Brenda Fam, a board member who had criticized trans people online and in previous meetings, said she thought Norton “inappropriately requested and pressured” school employees.

“I think what happened is criminal,” Fam said. “Norton’s efforts to change her child’s gender have stemmed back to the second grade.”

Fam repeatedly referred to Elizabeth as Norton’s “son.” After the third or fourth time, Norton started to think maybe she didn’t want to go back to Monarch. How could she work for a school board that intentionally misgendered her child?

Norton walked out of the auditorium. Outside, she loaded a stream ofthe meeting on her phone and waited for a decision. The board members were split on what they wanted, but half an hour later, a narrow majority agreed to suspend Norton for 10 days, then move her to a different job where she no longer has access to records.

A scrum of reporters circled Norton and her husband. Norton was proud she hadn’t backed down, but she told them she wasn’t sure what to do now. She had fought for 11 years to keep Elizabeth safe in school. She would do whatever she had to do next to keep her safe still.

“Am I remorseful for protecting my child?” she asked. “Absolutely not.”

The school district told Norton in late August she wouldn’t go back to Monarch. Instead, she’d do clerical work at a nonschool site. Norton didn’t want to leave Elizabeth, but she needed money, so she accepted the job.

The family spent one of Norton’s last free days at the beach, then that evening, Elizabeth said she wanted to watch her old team play. It was an away game, the second match of the year, so they climbed into Norton’s minivan and drove to Coral Springs.

All the girls hugged Norton and Elizabeth when they arrived, and most of the parents did, too. But once the game started, Elizabeth went quiet. She watched, and Norton knew she wanted to be out there with them. They left after the first set.

Norton wanted to cheer up Elizabeth, so she drove her to the mall after the game. Elizabeth didn’t talk the entire time. They ate Chipotle and wandered around, and eventually Norton found Elizabeth in the kids’ section at Marshalls, running volleyball drills with a toy.

Elizabeth passed out on the couch the second they got home, and Norton knew they couldn’t keep living like this.

In all the months they’d been waiting for an end to the investigation, Norton had never considered moving. She loved Coconut Creek. Both she and her husband had lived there their entire lives, and she’d always imagined they’d grow old on their corner lot.

Maybe it was time to let those dreams go, Norton thought. Maybe they were better off moving to a town where no one knew them. Elizabeth might never want to play team sports again, Norton imagined, but maybe, if they found a new school, she could still have a senior year, one last chance at a normal girlhood and the good life Norton had worked so hard to give her.

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theivorybilledwoodpecker · 2 years ago

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Forced birthers: No one will get hurt from abortion bans!

The people they consider "no one":

Marlena Stell

Amanda Zurawski

Mylissa Farmer

The 10-year-old from Ohio

The 16-year-old from Florida

The 15-year-old from Florida

Nancy Davis

Elizabeth Weller

Anya Cook

Kelly Shannon

Jessica Bernardo

Kierstan Hogan

Taylor Edwards

Kylie Beaton

Samantha Casiano

Lauren Van Vleet

Austin Dennard

Lauren Miller

Jaci Statton

Kristina Cruickshank

Tara George

Kailee DeSpain

Deborah Dorbert

Mayron Hollis

Gabriella Gonzalez

Kristen Anya

Heather Maberry

Melissa Novak

Kayla Smith

Lauren Christensen

Beth Long

Anabely Lopes

Christina Zielke

Kaitlyn Joshua

Lauren Hall

Carmen Broesder

Jill Hartle

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neil-gaiman · 1 year ago

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hi neil, i hope your day was better than mine.

i got my hair cut today and i can't stop crying about it. it looks so bad. and it's right before school starts too. i'm not exaggerating when i say it looks like a 5 year old took scissors to my hair while i was sleeping. and it was done by a professional at a good salon! i don't know what happened but i'm devastated and maybe i'm just emotional/sentimental but i keep crying about it and i feel silly after because i know it's just HAIR.

anyways, you probably won't see this but i had to let someone know. and also, i think you would be proud of me because i have been in a reading slump for a year and last week i decided to do something about it. so i read coraline one day, ocean at the end of the lane the next, the graveyard book after, and lastly i took two days to read anansi boys. i'm planning on reading american gods next. the idea was to start off short and small and work my way up and i think it's working. thank you for your work and please never stop writing. and great job on season two by the way, it was beautiful.

please come to wisconsin soon so you're able to sign my good omens copy!

with love, ollie

Here. I will try to cheer you up with me in October 2016 as Hurricane Matthew is hitting Florida and I have just had a very strange haircut from the only barber who hadn't closed because of the incoming hurricane. The wind noise in the background is the start of the hurricane. The haircut was because I thought we'd lose power and I might have to fight zombies and shorter hair would help. To add insult to the haircut, it had a ducktail at the back.

The khaki jacket had lots of pockets and was hurricane gear too. (I slept in the bathtub that night. The howls of the wind got loud but I didn't lose power and I was fine.)

And it still wasn't as bad a haircut as the one I got when I was 16 when my dad took the hairdresser aside before the haircut and told him that whatever I asked for, what he was to do was cut it all off and give me a short back and sides. And he did. There are no photographs.

I hope this helps. I'm proud of you too.

#bad hair days

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theivorybilledwoodpecker · 1 year ago

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The people you don't consider human:

Marlena Stell

Amanda Zurawski

Mylissa Farmer

The 10-year-old from Ohio

The 16-year-old from Florida

The 15-year-old from Florida

Nancy Davis

Elizabeth Weller

Anya Cook

Kelly Shannon

Jessica Bernardo

Kierstan Hogan

Taylor Edwards

Kylie Beaton

Samantha Casiano

Lauren Van Vleet

Austin Dennard

Lauren Miller

Jaci Statton

Kristina Cruickshank

Tara George

Kailee DeSpain

Deborah Dorbert

Milo Dorbert

Mayron Hollis

Gabriella Gonzalez

Kristen Anya

Heather Maberry

Melissa Novak

Kayla Smith

Lauren Christensen

Beth Long

Anabely Lopes

Christina Zielke

Kaitlyn Joshua

Lauren Hall

Carmen Broesder

Jill Hartle

Brittany Vidrine

The Jane Doe whi had an ectopic pregnancy rupture after an anti-abortion pregnancy center told her she had a normal pregnancy

Emily Doe from Missouri, whose fetus had undeveloping lungs and no kidneys, whose life could have been endangered...but wasn't yet, so she has to travel out of state

I hope forced birthers experience each and every pregnancy outcome they've forced on others. You don't mind...do you?

The problem with abortion is that there is no end to its immorality. There is no issue you can support abortion on and not be supporting equally heinous civil rights issues of born human beings.

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ma1dita · 11 months ago

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buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion.

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like a sailor lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs.

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?”

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already, so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, Trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. Both of you took up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointed you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), so there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk, pretending not to hear.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?”

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, Trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind.

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…”

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing.

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, Trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable, I guess.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… so I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive.

You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, Trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. You ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, with a purple Zippo lighter in hand (the smoke grants temporary illusions through any space you blow it into, and it smells like grapes---thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror every so often, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he covers them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries running headfirst back into battle and towards to you, with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up, hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend.

But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two.

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, Trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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egberts · 11 months ago

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A Florida bill that was passed by a state senate committee Wednesday could allow 16- and 17-year-olds to work on construction projects in residential areas, as long as the projects are lower than six feet, a revision from the original text that sought to allow the teens to work on roofs.

A separate bill called Employment and Curfew of Minors is moving through the state house legislature committee, and intends to allow 16- and 17-year-olds to work up to 40 hours a week (30 is the current law), even when school is in session.

The latter bill, introduced by Republican state Rep. Linda Chaney, would force 16- and 17-year-olds to be given the same amount of breaks as adults — and employers are not required under Florida law to give employees 18 and older paid or unpaid breaks — a change to the current law which requires 30 minute breaks every four hours.

Minors who are 16- and 17-years-old who aren’t enrolled in school or are enrolled in homeschool or virtual programs would be allowed to work during school hours if Chaney’s bill becomes a law.

source

so first they prime gen alpha to be unable to read via taking books out of schools and shoving ipads at them, then they make it so those same kids can be wage slaves in a few years when their soft mushy uneducated brains can finally be put to real work

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 8 months ago

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To continue riffing on the marriage/tradition stuff because that’s one of the themes I’m obsessed with in her discography, it’s fascinating because it would be easy to reduce it to, “she’s adhering to patriarchal societal norms in chasing the traditional nuclear family and that’s why she throws herself into these relationships,” but it’s just so reductive to well, how human beings exist in the world. Just because it’s a societal pressure doesn’t mean some people don’t genuinely want to get married or have families.

Yes, she’s been singing about it right back to her first album when she as 16. Yes, her view on it has evolved, from marrying the sweet neighbor boy to the princess fairytale early on (debut/fearless), to the disillusionment that increasingly pushed it out of the narrative (speak now/red/1989), to slowly letting herself believe in forever again (rep), to seemingly actually committed (lover), to questioning what that means (folklore/evermore) to trying to reconcile what it means for her current life (midnights). Every relationship she experienced throughout those periods informed those views and how *she* pursued it.

I think what makes it so interesting on TTPD is that it is EVERYWHERE, as I mentioned in my previous post about it. And it’s unsettling because it’s not just in the setting we expect it to be — e.g. a long term partner she’d previously indicated she was ready to marry — but also in songs about a man who swooped in to save her when she was low only to break her apart, in thinly-veiled fantasies about strange bedfellow neighbours, another thinly-veiled story about marrying the person you want consequences be damned, in taunting your on again/off again partner in a bar (e.g. i want to smash your bike or be your wife).

And it’d be easy to chalk it up to, well she’s in her 30s and the clock is ticking, she’s just obsessive! And there’s a nugget there about women and their bodies and both the lauding and weaponization thereof and everything that personally I’m dying to talk about at some point. But when it comes down to it, I’m willing to bet that the reason why it’s everywhere is because THAT WAS HER LIFE. That was the plan she’d taken for granted for so long — and I don’t just mean in a general sense as a girl in the world — but in the very real, very tangible way she was living her life and in the circumstances that led to what would be written about in TTPD. By working out all these scenarios through her songs (and tbh in whatever she was doing IRL that inspired them), she was grappling with and grieving the loss of the life she thought was ahead of her. We’ve talked about how pervasive grief has been on her recent albums, in all kinds of forms, and I think this is kind of the culmination of all of those worries.

She’s not the girl with the paper ring and all’s well did not end well to end up with him. She’s not the girl who has his midnights after cleaning up bottles on New Year’s Day. She couldn’t give him her wild or a child because it wasn’t enough. She may have even been the self-fulfilling prophecy of the girl who is fucked in the head, but feels more like the one left out on the landing.

So in TTPD, she is all of these things. She’s the neglected wife whose husband cheats on her so she runs off with an old flame. She’s the one who gets the jewel on her ring finger and talks about babies because he says it’s love. She’s the woman whose partner once made a promise but never followed through. She’s the hell-raiser who follows love in a different kind of getaway car while the town calls her mad, consequences be damned, but joke’s on them because she gets the wedding in the end anyway. She’s the wife who feeds her cheating husband to the swamps of Florida. She gets swept off her feet by an old flame to run down the aisle. SHE’S the one who gets to decide if she’s gonna marry him or decimate him (be his wife or smash his bike). She’s the girl who didn’t become the wife while she watches the one that got away marry his. She’s the woman scorned who has to call the whole thing off. She’s the saucy girl who bets her new lover is gonna marry her for real. She’s sold off as chattel to the highest bidder in an arranged marriage. She’s the young girl starry-eyed with the dreams she grew up with only to have them go up in flames, leaving only her pen behind to turn it into art.

She navigates all these scenarios because in the end, she isn’t any of them and she is all of them. She’s mourning what she gave up, mourning what she’s already lost, mourning the time she feels she wasted and could have started over. She’s mourning any number of women she could have been if she’d just tried something else, but also mourning that ultimately much of this was out of her hands. She’s grappling with a past that can’t change and a future that doesn’t exist. Every one of these scenarios is a way her life could have gone with any number of different decisions, but in the end, none of that matters, because she is who she is and what happened happened.

Obviously there’s a lot more going on in the album; she’s not just processing the end of relationships, she’s processing her fame and career and health and harassment and trauma and struggles and misogyny and any number of things in frankly shocking ways. But, I think there’s also no denying that this very important thing — the step many young adults expect to take in their lives — precipitated a whole lot of what went on, and may have even had a domino effect on all the other issues explored. It’s raw and vulnerable and ugly and funny and human.

Anyway apparently I’m back and thinking.

#maybe i should not sleep more often #the tortured poets department #writing letters addressed to the fire

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ladykailitha · 5 months ago

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Icarus Part 16

Hello! This story is back and will be for at least the next two weeks. After that I will be taking a two week break in posting so that I can have a good backlog again. Moving and vacation absolutely destroyed the nearly 20 chapters I had waiting in the wings. I went from 18 to 8 and while I am up above 10, it's not much above 10 (as of right now? 11).

I have four stories going on right now and the goal is to get at least four chapters each so I can have 16 in my backlog. So from Aug 18th, to the 31st, I won't be posting any chapters from any of my stories. I will still post ideas, meta, headcanon et al, but no story updates.

Anyway back to your regularly scheduled metal band Steve!

In this we find out what happened to Barb and why it drove a rift between Steve and Nancy, more about how the bands formed, and Vickie gets a feel for her new clients.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Steve spent the night with Eddie after that horrible day he had. Once everyone had gone home and it was just Steve and Eddie, Steve curled up on Eddie’s chest and held on for dear life.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Eddie cooed, running his fingers through Steve’s hair, gently scratching his scalp. “When I suggested her I didn’t realize she still held a grudge against you after all these years.”

He let out a long shuddering breath. “Our breakup was entirely her fault. When Barb used my party to runaway with her boyfriend, a boyfriend no one even knew she had by the way, Nancy was so sure that she had been trafficked. That Will just wasn’t kidnapped, but there was a ring of child abductors taking anyone they could get their hands on.”

“As if that’s how that works,” Eddie said rolling his eyes.

“Right?” Steve huffed. “Anyway, she went on this one woman crusade to bring Barb Holland home. Even after Will Byers was kidnapped by a guy who thought he was his son. I tried to be supportive because Barb just up and leaving was scary for everyone. She was making me put out fliers and dragging me to dinners with Barb’s parents. They even hired a private investigator to find her. Had to sell their house to cover it all.”

“So what happened?”

“Finally the PI found her,” Steve murmured, “living in Florida on some beach somewhere, having the time of her life, not even caring about her family and friend thinking she was dead. But by the time they found her she was eighteen and they couldn’t do anything about it.”

Eddie winced and pulled Steve even closer. “What about the guy? How old was he?”

“Twenty-five.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Come again? Couldn’t they have gotten him for kidnapping and statutory rape?”

“They couldn’t prove he was the guy she had run off with and for all they knew they got together after she turned eighteen,” Steve explained, picking at the blanket absently.

“I guess I’m just not seeing how this was any of your fault,” Eddie admitted dryly. “It sounds like it was Barb’s fault.”

Steve let out another sigh. “It was my fault because I took Nancy’s attention away from her friend when she needed her the most and Jonathan knew what it was like, not knowing when a loved one was ever going to come home. That he was sensitive and caring. That he wouldn’t beg for one night of being a teenager and go to some Halloween party.”

“Ouch,” Eddie said with grimace. This was sounding worse and worse for Nancy. He couldn’t believe he had ever trusted her.

“She was already cheating on me before the party,” Steve said, finally looking up into Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie pulled him onto his lap and kissed the top of his head. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Do you want to know what her excuse was?” Steve said with a scoff. “It was because I was just phoning it in and that I really didn’t care about her, about Barb, that I was just some self-centered jerk. As if that absolves her cheating.”

“You’ve never just phoned anything in in your life, sweetheart,” Eddie said fiercely. “You are always one hundred percent passionate about everything you do. Even crappy jobs like Scoops Ahoy and the coffee shop.”

Steve looked up at Eddie with a soft smile. “Those were the two best jobs I’ve ever had, because if I hadn’t done them, I wouldn’t have been able to do this one.”

“How’s that, honey?” Eddie asked after giving him a kiss on the temple.

“The first one is where I met Robin and the second is where I met Simon, Shane, and Spence.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “That’s definitely one way to pick up friends.”

“Well, we all can’t have the good fortune to have met in middle school and never break up ever,” Steve snarked.

“Wait until I tell you that Gareth isn’t our first drummer and we used to have a different bassist, too.”

Steve shot up and looked Eddie in the eye. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” he said shaking his head. “Our first bassist was Doug Teague and our first drummer was a girl named Ronnie Eckers. Ronnie’s parents forced her stop the band after the middle school talent show when I threw up the devil’s horns and they thought it was a gang sign.” Steve chuckled. “And Dougie, Dougie wasn’t made for fame and fortune. He wanted a simple life with a white picket fence and 2.5 children. He sent Brian a message when we put out our first single saying that it was Brian’s addition to the band that was the reason we made it big. Brian printed it out and has it taped to the inside of his bass case.”

“Holy shit,” Steve whispered. “I never knew. I thought you guys were like The Struts or whatever and never changed band members ever.”

Eddie smiled. “I’m glad you think we have that kind of chemistry, but no. It’s been a bit trial and error before we got this far.”

Steve snuggled back into Eddie’s chest and he wrapped his arms around his waist. “I hope we never have to swap someone out,” he murmured. “Otherwise we’re going to have to hunt down someone with the same initial as the rest of us and probably even snipe the leaving member for good measure.”

Eddie burst out laughing. “That would make for some very interesting entertainment, that’s for sure.” He suddenly straightened up. “Wait. Is that why all your onstage personas begin with an A? Because your real names all begin with an S?”

He looked down at Steve, who was trying not to laugh. “Oh my god! It is! That is fucking hilarious! And no one has ever put two and two together?”

“Nope!”

Eddie just shook his head. “I think it’s classism. The reason they haven’t put two and two together. Why would two rich pretty boys fallen on hard times form a band with two blue collar boys? They just can’t fathom the idea that people from all walks of life can be friends.”

“Simon and my families still can’t understand how we can hang out with you and Robin and the rest of our friends,” Steve agreed. “But I fear that our friends might be playing into it too. That Stupid Steve and Flighty Robin who have always had low paying jobs couldn’t possibly be an international rockstar and his fashion plate manager.”

Eddie sighed. He wanted to refute that, but just last week Steve had gotten a call from Dustin who had spent most of the call berating Steve for not having any ambition. And even some of the nicer kids had expressed concerns that their friends didn’t want to be more than peons at some fancy record label.

Never mind that Steve said he loved his job and being able to work along side his friends was the dream. Steve explained it as doing what he loved no matter how much it paid him, but they couldn’t see that.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Eddie cooed. “Let’s get a shower and then go to bed. It’s been a long day for everyone and we need the rest.”

Steve nodded and got up to pad over to the en suite bathroom. Eddie followed close behind. They merely showered, taking care of each other and then got slowly ready for bed.

Eddie slipped under the covers first and then held out his arms out for Steve. Steve wordlessly went willingly into his boyfriend’s arms, knowing that Eddie would be there for him come morning.

They snuggled under the covers and slipped silently into the warm embrace of slumber.

Vickie was working out great and had set up a meeting with Steve and Eddie to go over their relationship status.

“I understand you won’t be able to go public with your relationship for awhile is that correct?” she asked once they got settled into her office, her choosing not to do the meeting in public.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I have a history of bad relationships and Steve can’t be out as Abbadon which would make sense public wise.”

Steve nodded.

“Would you want Abbadon and Eddie to come out as a couple at some point?” Vickie asked, shifting the papers on her desk.

Eddie and Steve shared a glance. But Steve shook his head.

“I want Eddie and Steve to be the couple that everyone knows about,” he muttered. “It’s completely selfish of me but I want to look at publications, tabloids, sound bites and all that other shit and know it’s not me they see with Eddie, but Abbadon. The much cooler one.”

Vickie nodded. “But you two were friends before the fame and during, right?”

“Yeah, we were friends in high school,” Eddie agreed, his knee beginning to bounce. “We somehow stayed friends through the first couple of years I was out in LA for that first record. And then Steve and Robin moved out to Pasadena. Which I thought was because our young friend Dustin got into school out there–”

“But it was because he got his own record contract?” Vickie supplied.

Steve nodded and rested his hand on Eddie’s knee to calm him. “Yeah. It was a great excuse, our friend’s mom has always been over protective due to a disease he has. I don’t know if people are expecting us to move out to Boston when he graduates and goes to MIT, but that was never the plan.”

“I think Steve was saying that as long as they are masked,” Eddie put his hand over Steve’s on his knee, “that he didn’t want to come out as a couple.”

Vickie leaned her elbows on her desk and clasped her hands together. “I see here that you and Shane are having your personas Abbadon and Astraeus are coming out as bisexual and gay respectively, is that correct?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, rubbing his thumb over Eddie’s hand, for his comfort or Eddie’s, he wasn’t sure. “That’s another reason for wanting to wait on coming out as a couple.”

“You’re worried about the fallout?” she probed gently. Steve nodded. “That’s fine. That’s what I’m here for. For the first twenty four hours after you’ve gone live on your coming out, I will keep track of all your phones so that you aren’t reacting to a gut punch right out of the gate.”

“But Celeste and Eddie will still have their phones?” Steve asked, rearing his head back in confusion.

Vickie cocked her head to the side. “Robin will need her phone, but I can’t take Eddie’s. Not unless he wants me to.”

Eddie grinned and stretched out, putting his hands behind his head. “I can’t promise I’ll be good, but I know how far to take things now.”

Vickie nodded. She had expected that to be his answer. And if she was honest even to herself, she wanted Eddie standing up for Abbadon. Because Eddie had already handled his coming out and would be seen as a powerful ally.

“Even if you aren’t publicly friends,” she said, “Eddie defending Abbadon is publicity money just can’t buy.”

They talked for a little while longer until they finally wrapped it all up. As they walked out of Vickie’s office to Eddie’s Jag, he got a phone call.

“‘Ello?” he greeted. “Hey Dr. Owens.”

He stopped and held up a finger to Steve as he listened. “That’s great news.”

He listened again. “Yeah, of course. Um...” he paused. “It’s not like I doubt you or anything, but after last time...”

Eddie rounded his shoulders as he repeated, “Uh-huh. Of course,” over and over.

Steve reached out and took his free hand in his. He gave it a comforting squeeze and Eddie’s shoulders got a little less rounded, now that Steve was holding him.

“Yeah, talk to you soon,” Eddie said. “Bye.” He turned to Steve. “How soon are you guys going be finished with your album?”

Steve blinked at him for a moment before he tilted his head to the side. “About a month or so, why?”

A slow small grin spread out over his features. “I think that will be perfect, actually.”

Steve just blinked at him in confusion.

“Gareth is being let out of rehab at the end of the month,” Eddie said gleefully. “So we can finally go on tour!”

Steve grabbed his arms and started squealing. Eddie jumped up and down with him.

It was finally happening. They were going on tour.

Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: CLOSED MAXIMUM REACHED!

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar au

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slightlyartist · 3 months ago

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HIHIII!!! i just want 2 say i love ur tatexbackle art SO MUCH do u have any headcannons for them?*I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I STRIVE OFF OF CONTENT OF THEM, also im a sucker for tate media)

HEWWO! I'm SO HAPPY people want to know more about Tackle, so I stayed up until 5am writing these. Enjoy!

Backle was born in Australia but moved to Florida in his late teens.

He is a few years younger than Tate (Let's say if Tate is 35 then he is 33) (Was born in ~1980, the Gravity Falls Timeline is a mess don't make me do the maths)

His fave movie is Nemo, he was already in his 20s when the movie came out but he was SEATED. Loved the Barracuda cameo (one of his favorite fish). His Shark obsession got worse. Watched it while he was in Florida and made him miss Australia.

He has a picture of Steve Irwin in his wallet.

Tate doesn't like having his picture taken but Backle convinced him to take one selfie together. He keeps it next to the Steve Irwin picture.

Very active, also loves hiking! Loves collecting little trinkets along the way and puts them around the shop. Tate doesn't like that habit but Backle insists it's "decoration".

Backle isn't a very crafty man but he made some fishing line bracelets for him and Tate. They kept on breaking so Tate built some fishing line rings, Backle keeps his on a necklace and Tate sometimes fidges with his own when he gets nervous or overthinks.

Backle never made fun of Old Man McGucket, even before Tate confessed that he was his father. Florida made him immune to any type of "crazyness" and he understands that some people are unlucky and that life sometimes isn't fair to them. Backle explained this to Tate on an afternoon they were fishing and Tate got so comforted and less embarrassed of his dad.

Backle introduced Tate to "Stoic Monthly" so he could get his anxiety under control. Tate insists that he can buy his own but Backle always gets him the new issue the moment they release it.

Backle's love language is Words of affirmation and Gift-giving (I bet this heals Tate's inner child).

Tate's love language is Quality time and Acts of service.

Tate is very reserved and it took him some time to open up to Backle. After that Backle discovered that Tate is actually a Yapper and he loves listening to him.

Backle is an even bigger Yappertron 3000.

Despite that, they can spend hours sitting in silence just fishing without being uncomfortable.

Backle finds Tate's quirks really endearing and likes noticing them. Tate mumbles a lot when mad, bounces his knee when overthinking (got it after his father), and hums and whistles when happy (got it after his mother).

Tate doesn't like Public Displays of Affection but that didn't stop Backle from trying.

Backle keeps insisting that Skinny Dipping is so much fun and that they should do it. Tate picked a date to do it and Backle got really excited, only to discover that on the day Tate picked there was a huge storm. He suspects Tate chose that day on purpose because he is awfully good at predicting the weather. Backle will keep suggesting it until they try it.

Backle knows how to cook really well. Tate is the one in charge of keeping everything clean and in order.

Backle would love to have a dog, Tate would love to have a cat, they settled on gluing googly eyes on a rock. Tate named it Dwayne and Backle found it hilarious. Every time they see it they smile.

He likes watching poorly made, low-cost movies. Tate always ends up joining him after saying that "there's no way you like that". After each one, they always end up agreeing it's the worst movie they have ever watched.

Backle was a camp counselor when he was 16. His easygoing personality made kids love him. He also likes kids because they don't judge him for info dumping about sharks. In fact, they would keep asking for more shark facts.

Tate is scared that Backle will end up leaving him too, tries to not get too attached. #DaddyIssues

Tate wonders why Backle doesn't freak out when encountering Gravity Falls' weird creatures. Backle says it feels like a normal day in Australia.

No one in town knows the nature of their relationship. If you ask them, they'll tell you they are Fishing Buddies. If you ask Tate and Backle, they'll also tell you that. Only Blubs and Durland know.

Backle fully believes he'd be able to win a fight against an alligator/bear

Tate confessed that he had never watched Nemo and Backle couldn't believe it. He worked twice as hard on his shift to have everything done sooner just to close the shop early on that day. Then prepared snacks and organized a movie night. Tate really liked it, but found every scene with Dory difficult to watch because it reminded him of his dad (he never made a comment about it, but Backle probably figured it out). Backle would remind him to "just keep swimming" during hard times. During boring days at the shop, Backle also likes to mess with Tate by "speaking whale".

I could probably keep on adding more and more but I'm gonna stop here! Everyone is free to ask me for anything specific or even drop your own HCs! Would love to hear them and maybe even make them "canon" teehee <3

#judtalks #gravity falls #gravity falls backle #gravity falls tate mcgucket #tate mcgucket #gravity falls tackle

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batboyblog · 5 months ago

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Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #27

July 12-19 2024

President Biden announced the cancellation of $1.2 billion dollars worth of student loan debt. This will cancel the debt of 35,000 public service workers, such as teachers, nurses, and firefighters. This brings the total number of people who've had their student debt relived under the Biden Administration to 4.8 million or one out of every ten people with student loan debt, for a total of $168.5 billion in debt forgiven. This came after the Supreme Court threw out an earlier more wide ranging student debt relief plan forcing the administration to undertake a slower more piecemeal process for forgiving debt. President Biden announced a new plan in the spring that will hopefully be finalized by fall that will forgive an additional 30 million people's student loan debt.

President Biden announced actions to lower housing coasts, make more housing available and called on Congress to prevent rent hikes. President Biden's plan calls for landlords who raise the rent by more than 5% a year to face losing major important tax befits, the average rent has gone up by 21% since 2021. The President has also instructed the federal government, the largest land owner in the country, to examine how unused property can be used for housing. The Bureau of Land Management plans on building 15,000 affordable housing units on public land in southern Nevada, the USPS is examining 8,500 unused properties across America to be repurposed for housing, HHS is finalizing a new rule to make it easier to use federal property to house the homeless, and the Administration is calling on state, local, and tribal governments to use their own unused property for housing, which could create approximately 1.9 million units nationwide.

The Department of Transportation announced $5 billion to replace or restore major bridges across the country. The money will go to 13 significant bridges in 16 states. Some bridges are suffering from years of neglect others are nearly 100 years old and no longer fit for modern demands. Some of the projects include the I-5 bridge over the Columbia River which connects Portland Oregon to Vancouver Washington, replacing the Sagamore Bridge which connects Cape Cod to the mainland built in 1933, replacing the I- 83 South Bridge in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and Cape Fear Memorial Bridge Replacement Project in Wilmington, North Carolina, among others.

President Biden signed an Executive Order aimed at boosting Latino college attendance. The order established the White House Initiative on Advancing Educational Equity, Excellence, and Economic Opportunity through Hispanic-Serving Institutions. Hispanic-Serving Institutions (HSIs) are defined as colleges with 25% or above Hispanic/Latino enrollment, currently 55% of Hispanic college students are enrolled in an HSI. The initiative seeks to stream line the relationship between the federal government and HSIs to allow them to more easily take advantage of federal programs and expand their reach to better serve students and boost Hispanic enrollment nationwide.

HUD announced $325 million in grants for housing and community development in 7 cities. the cities in Tennessee, Texas, Alabama, Florida, Nevada, New York and New Jersey, have collectively pledged to develop over 6,500 new mixed-income units, including the one-for-one replacement of 2,677 severely distressed public housing units. The 7 collectively will invest $2.65 billion in additional resources within the Choice Neighborhood area – so that every $1 in HUD funds will generate $8.65 in additional resources.

President Biden took extensive new actions on immigration. On June 18th The President announced a new policy that would allow the foreign born spouses and step children of American citizens who don't have legal status to apply for it without having to leave the country, this would effect about half a million spouses and 50,000 children. This week Biden announced that people can start applying on August 19, 2024. Also in June President Biden announced an easing of Visa rules that will allow Dreamers, Americans brought to the country as children without legal status, to finally get work visas to give them legal status and a path way to citizenship. This week the Biden Administration announced a new rule to expand the federal TRIO program to cover Dreamers. TRIO is a program that aims to support low income students and those who would be the first in their families to go to college transition from high school to college, the change would support 50,000 more students each year. The Administration also plans to double the number of free immigration lawyers available to those going through immigration court.

The EPA announced $160 million in grants to support Clean U.S. Manufacturing of Steel and Other Construction Materials. The EPA estimates that the manufacturing of construction materials, such as concrete, asphalt, steel, and glass, accounts for 15% of the annual global greenhouse gas emissions. The EPA is supporting 38 projects aimed at measuring and combatting the environmental impact of construction materials.

The US announced $203 million in humanitarian assistance for the people of Sudan. Sudan's out of control civil war has caused the largest refugee crisis in the world with 11 million Sudanese having fled their homes in the face of violence. The war is also causing the gravest food crisis in the world, with a record setting 25 million people facing acute food insecurity, and fears that nearly a million will face famine in the next months. This aid brings the total aid the US has given Sudan since September 2023 to $1.6 billion, making America the single largest donor to Sudan.

The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau put forward a new rule that would better regulate popular paycheck advance products. 2/3rds of workers are payed every two weeks or once a month and since 2020 the number of short term loans that allow employees to receive their paycheck days before it’s scheduled to hit their account has grown by 90%. the CFPB says that many of these programs are decided with employers not employees and millions of Americans are paying fees they didn't know about before signing up. The new rule would require lenders to tell costumers up front about any and all fees and charges, as well as cracking down on deceptive "tipping" options.

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theivorybilledwoodpecker · 1 year ago

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You know what's going to be fun? Watching forced birthers realize they don't get an automatic exception when it's their lives on the line.

An antiabortion center told a woman her pregnancy was normal. It was ectopic, and it ruptured.

Kierstan Hogan's water broke early. The hospital wouldn't give her an abortion, despite the fact that the fetus wasn't viable. She was threatened with legal action if she left to get care elsewhere. As she lay there, trapped, religious leaders came to visit her even though she had already stated she didn't want pastoral care. I guess you guys don't see the point in forcing people to give birth if you can't witness their pain.

Finally, she gave birth to a stillborn fetus.

I hope forced birthers go through what they forced on these people:

Mylissa Farmer��s water broke early. Too early for the baby to survive. The hospital said it couldn’t treat her. She reached out to her senator…who referred her to an antiabortion crisis pregnancy. She reached out to her state attorney general…who simply never got back to her. She had to travel out of state for an abortion.