#all they care about is how much money they can make

[fushiguho]

Nanami Kento is the kind of man who always makes sure his lady’s nails are done. He doesn’t care the shape nor color, just that you get his initials on your ring finger each time, an unofficial token of your love — until he gets you the real thing, of course.

He grows utterly weak in the knees whenever you get them obscenely long or a little pointy (bonus points if you get gems or sparkly glitter.) He loves how confident it makes you feel, how your eyes gleam with elated gratitude whenever he presents you with his credit card or a wad of bills, suggesting you take the day for yourself.

Amongst the few, minute joys that lurk on this godforsaken planet, there is nothing that makes Nanami happier than when his favorite girl spends his hard earned money. He even asked you to resign from your job because he makes enough for the both of you. He hates to see you working anyway, he is a provider after all. What did you expect?

He’d wait ever so patiently for you to come back home. Watching the news or cooking a warm, heartfelt dinner, keeping himself occupied as we awaits your return, just imagining what it is you bought this time — lingerie? New shoes? Hours later, when you’re finally stumbling through the door with several overflowing shopping bags, a fresh set of acrylics, and a beaming smile, his cock swells.

Of course he’ll have you try on everything you bought, it’s only right. It’s his money after all, he just wants to ensure that it’s been well spent. Slouched lazily in an armchair, he’d gawk, shamelessly admiring his pretty girl. Gaunt legs sprawled idly as his head cocks to the right, a slow, sleazy grin twisting his lips. The trail of his sharp gaze warm and unwavering as you strip for him. Every once in a while, the amber of the overhead light reflects off of the gems that adorn your nails, the subtle glint catching attention.

A deep, audible groan ensues each time you peel off a garment of clothing, only to replace it with another, giving him his own, private runway show. His knee would bounce in anticipation, poor, aching cock growing impossibly harder by the minute and you can tell; you can see the way it strains against the restricting fabric of his slacks, begging to be taken care of. He can’t help but to reach out for you, his big, greedy hands finding purchase at the thick of your hips to pull you close, claiming that he just wants to see your nails a bit better, but that’s what he always says.

And it’s always harmless, benign. That is until you inevitably end up with his drooling cock lodged in the very back of your throat, sinful bubbles of saliva escaping from the corners of your tautly stretched lips. He’d hold you hand endearingly, babbling on about how pretty your nails are, how much it turns him on when you spend his money, how he promises to spoil you for the rest of your life.

God, it’s taking every fiber of his being not to fish for his wallet and spread a hefty stack of blue striped bills across the ample fat of your ass. The mere thought makes his cock twitch, heavy hips pushing forward, forcing himself deeeep down your slutty little throat, a thick stream of arousal pooling against your tastebuds.

He whines. “Fuuuuucck,” huffing out a strangled breath, an unintentional gasp following, “sweetheart, you are sooo perfect… such perfect throat, godddd… the way you’re looking u-up at me.” Nanami groans, blindly reaching for your hand, dragging it toward his slick, parted lips, “need to marry you — swear to fuckin’ god m’gonna marry you.” His tongue is whorishly lolling out before he’s drawing your fingers in deep, drooling down all of your pretty knuckles.

You're audibly sputtering around him in agreement, saliva spilling down your chin and pooling near the fat of his swollen balls. Gag after helpless gag reverberates from your occupied mouth, the poor, weeping head sinking deeper and deeper with each subtle buck of his hips, painting your throat in haphazard spurts of precum. He needs you like this forever, to take his cock like this forever. He'd give anything to make you his slutty, little wife forever and ever and —

“Pleasepleaseplease tell me you wanna marry me too,” he whines, warm, eager tongue wrapping so possessively around your ring finger, pulling it into his mouth, "oh, god please tell me you want that. I need you forever, baby... need this pretty little mouth forever.” His thick, blonde brows furrow so sweetly, voice strained and so plainly conquered by his evident love.

Physically, you can't respond and he knows; he's deliberately tucking himself deeper, the neat tufts of hair that adorn his girthy base tickling your chin. All you can offer him is a loud, helpless gag as you nod and he whimpers in relief. Yesyesyes, I'll marry you, is all he hears, your obedient, glassy eyes a testament.

So, why are you surprised when he’s hastily fetching a small, velvet box from the pocket of his discarded slacks, cracking it open in fervid anticipation, his cock resting heavily against your tongue? You said yes, right?

[ezrazone]

my friend mohamed’s cat, amy, is older than all three of his children! he carried her with him when he and his family were forced to evacuate their home in north gaza due to the brutal colonizing forces and their us-funded death squads ravaging palestine for its land.

here is amy now - she’s been skin and bones since the genocide has prevented mohamed from accessing adequate care for her illness. still, she makes his children smile and he hopes to get treatment for her when they are able to evacuate into egypt. just the same as mohamed plans on finding care for his wife, who is suffering from advanced uterine cancer, mohamed cares a great deal about this little cat.

here’s another picture of amy and of the two birds that mohamed’s family escaped north gaza with. how incredible is it that so many palestinians refuse to abandon their beloved animals, even as the occupation indiscriminately brutalizes and destroys all life?

something beautiful happened! this tiny kitten has joined mohamed’s family in the tent! abdul rahman, sarah, and lynn all love this kitten and hope that they are able to bring it across the border when the rafah crossing opens back up.

despite serious illness, mohamed’s daughter sarah talks constantly about how much she loves these cats and wants to play with them again. mohamed tells me that she loves cats more than she loves her own parents sometimes. i understand her. can you help keep her safe and ensure that she can bring these animals with her to egypt?

donations increased temporarily after the election results were called, then slowed down again as americans seem to retreat back into themselves. please let these people hold your attention this time.

mohamed is #192 on this verification sheet.

if you would like an alternative method for donating, please use this cashapp QR code to send money to mohamed’s fundraising coordinator. we are in constant contact and mohamed confirms to me that 100% of these funds are sent directly to him without delay.

please help me protect this family and their pets.

[mrsbarnesblog]

cost of betrayal

masterlist

summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first

word count: 1.7k.

warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues

a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏

“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. 

Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid. 

You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that. 

“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms. 

“I have nothing to talk to you about.” 

“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more. 

He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.

Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone. 

“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong. 

“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and... 

“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground. 

“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”

“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”

“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”

You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness. 

“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?” 

“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe. 

He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.

“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All  you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky. 

"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.” 

“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying. 

It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you. 

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips. 

Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming. 

While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two. 

“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. 

“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands. 

Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger. 

“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.” 

“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again. 

[embervoices]

A very useful thread on Bluesky:

(There is a lot more. Rather than give you all the images, I've copied the full text below.)

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬ November 8, 2024

This is not going to be a repeat of 2016-2020. It will be better, it will be worse, but most of all it will be different. Here are things I want every single person to keep in mind as we head into round 2 of a Trump admin.

My credentials: I’m a queer female public interest attorney working on tech policy in DC. I’ve been doing this for a decade--longer than some, not as long as others. I had to navigate three different administrations, as well as Congress, regulatory agencies, courts, and the advocacy world.

FIRST: don’t let despair override your media literacy.

The left has grifters, just like every other movement. If you’re able and compelled to donate, give to orgs with established track records. Avoid giving to individuals, especially anyone who emerges overnight with a one-weird-trick “plan.”

The left is not immune to misinformation, and everyone—EVERYONE—falls for it sometimes, present company included. There is no shame in it. When (not if) it happens to you, you should acknowledge it; delete or retract the post to reduce the spread; and move on.

If a source consistently shares half-truths or outright misinformation, it is not trustworthy, no matter how much “their heart is in the right place.” Unfollow and move on.

Prediction, analysis, and reporting are three fundamentally different things. Learn to identify them for what they are. Reject attempts by amateur “analysts” to predict the future. They know as much as you do.

Real subject matter experts know and acknowledge their limits. They’re also (usually) hesitant to try and predict the future. The best frame their predictions in terms of a range of possible outcomes. Subject matter experts may also disagree with one another! It happens!

SECOND: What we know for sure about how the Trump, how he operates, and how that will impact the next four years.

Trump is a narcissist who avoids reading and doesn’t care about details. He cannot be persuaded by argument or logic; he’s moved mostly by flattery, and will agree with the last person who flattered him. He can and will upend his own administration’s work without warning, often by tweet.

As a result, most policy experts—even those "on his side"—dread him taking an interest in their field. Ask any Republican staffer who worked in Congress during the last administration, and most of them will confirm that their greatest fear was Trump tweeting about anything related to their work.

As such, people who are serious about their work will do everything to make it as invisible and boring-seeming as possible. This is the policy equivalent of defensive camouflage. Lots of “normie” work will continue in silence. (The lion’s share of tech policy ends up in this bucket.)

If you have a niche issue that you care about, now is a great time to donate to orgs that work on it. Lots of money will be funneled to big legacy orgs working on headline issues: ACLU, climate change orgs, etc. Consider sending your donations where they matter most: local, niche, established.

Trump runs his cabinet like the Apprentice. He thrives on chaos and making people compete for his approval. Not only does he not reward collaboration between his subordinates, he actively undermines it.

Moreover, everyone who works with him knows that they’re vulnerable to being thrown under the bus at a moment’s notice, for any reason (or for no reason at all). His cabinet is going to be scorpions in a bottle. They will not be able to coordinate, for good or ill.

One scorpion can still do a lot of horrific damage. But large scale inter-agency coordination is unlikely, particularly after the first few months, by which point he will likely (prediction warning!) have gone through a handful of cabinet secretaries already.

FINALLY: The view from inside civil society heading into 2025.

In 2016, Trump was a largely unknown quantity. The left and establishment right alike wasted a lot of time trying to read tea leaves and make sense of this guy, because he was completely outside the realm of what anyone had dealt with. That’s not happening now.

He did us a favor by broadcasting his plans in advance (aka Project 2025). Civil society has spent the last 2.5 years strategizing around it. We’re not starting off flat-footed.

The Biden admin did a good amount to future-proof its own achievements. Folks can speak to their own areas of expertise, but clean energy and CHIPS and Science Act (investing in domestic semiconductor production) have benefitted from huge sunk investments. That money’s not getting clawed back.

OVERALL TAKE-AWAYS:

It's going to suck. But civil society and the political left have some advantages we didn't have last time. We know him, we know his angles, and we know who he's bringing in--none of which we had in 2016.

We'll get through this. It will be grim, but we'll get through it.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

Thanks Meredith. I really valued your analysis over the past few years, and I think this is a reasonable, actionable framework to think about the upcoming storm

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

I really cannot overstate how much time was (necessarily) wasted in 2017 trying to figure out this guy and his influences. The fact that he's not only a known quantity, but ran the most over-studied administration in this nation's recent history, makes this a very different game.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

I bet we can weaponize his narcissism. Let's say some ghoul starts making progress with a mass deportation effort, if we start calling that ghoul that "shadow president" en masse, Trump would fire him in right away and appoint Hulk Hogan or something

‪Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

This is exactly why I don't think Musk will last very long. Trump is very clear that he's the only one in the room allowed to have an ego or any kind of brand name.

[arueshalaetablebuildingsociety]

This list is only symptomatic. It fails to determine and treat root causes, which would be better listed as:

- Recognize that Neoliberalism has two entire tools and one of those tools is bribing a rich person to do something. The other tool is bombing the everloving fuck out of a South American town because Nestle wants to steal all of their water and ransom it back to them (assuming they don't just sell it to white people thousands of miles away instead), and they can't do that if the town has a reliable source of cheap water.

- Fix material conditions driving people across every demographic to a desperate and unempathetic "them or me" mode of living.

- Curb the ability of ANY one person or group of people to amass and control that much wealth and power.

- Hold political parties to the same standards we hold toothpaste brands; if a political party loses a crucial election against the worst person imaginable, that is a failure of the party for refusing to offer a better candidate rather than a failure of the voters.

- Dissolve the majority of "economics" as any sort of empirical model; like any system with outsized reliance on a single, arbitrary, derived number, calculations based on GDP can be easily poisoned so material conditions for the majority of people worsen but GDP improves.

- Reform education to remove the whitewashing of history that creates a false impression of "the arc of history". History is like every other system: it doesn't arc upwards unless people make it. This WILL mean talking about exactly the sort of things that make Neoliberals uncomfortable, like the Battle of Blair Mountain, or the Tuskegee Experiments, or how France invaded Rwanda to prop up the Hutu Power government, or how the German Liberal government ended Nuclear Power for Coal and LNG fossil fuels while also still claiming to be a leader in the fight against Climate Change.

- End, once and for all, the idea that anyone succeeds off of individual merit as even a majority factor. Elon Musk did not become the wealthiest man in the world by working hard and Tesla proves it: it was Trump's reelection that has saved Tesla, not any qualities present in Musk. Tesla was hemorrhaging money because Musk was using it as a pack animal to hold all the debt he was getting from running Twitter into the ground. Elon Musk became the wealthiest man in the world by inheriting the emeralds his dad forced slaves to mine at gunpoint, and using that to sue to be named a founder of SpaceX and prevent the real founders from ever taking credit, thus ensuring he would have a constant lifeline from the US DoD because SpaceX is an aerospace company and is "critical infrastructure" despite proving less efficient than NASA in every aspect.

You will never have a Liberal Andrew Tate; Andrew Tate is so seductive to angry young men because he doesn't pretend the problems affecting them don't exist but instead falsifies a cause for them to project their anger onto. Why can't Liberals address the actual problems affecting these young men? Because Neoliberalism as a model doesn't allow for those problems to exist, because it's a flawed model. GDP is going up, therefore there can't be any issues affecting these young men even though there quite objectively are. These are problems you can't bribe a rich person to fix. And while you can bomb the everloving fuck out of the young men, that doesn't really affect the root problem, does it?

And if you're only fixing the symptoms and not the causes, that's called palliative care. It doesn't mean the patient will get better, just that they will die in slightly less pain.

things we need to address:

gen z men getting pulled into alt-right pipelines through andrew tate, joe rogan, elon musk, jordan peterson etc

the gullibility and stupidity of half the country voting against our collective best interests

the broad effect social media has on public and common good

lazy minds and lack of empathy

outside-country interference (trump and elon’s connections to russia and the amount of bots from other countries spreading misinformation)

the long-term effects of AI and rampant disinformation

[ham1lton]

oo for the lovesick!lando mini smau prompts what about him commenting wedding vows or something sexual on just about every post that contains yn even if its not something he posted , like hamlintomshaderoom posts yn crossing the street and hes practically proposing in comments

author’s note: hi!! so this is in the toxic!y/n and lovesick!lando universe so this is my warning that it isn’t a healthy relationship. this is an au and if toxic fictional relationships are not for you, please don’t read! this is a joke au <3

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by landonorris, land0.mov, lando.jpg and 1,928,091 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: musician yn yln seen in the streets of manhattan as she does some shopping in the city. she was surrounded by fans before being escorted away to safety by security. this is her first appearance since the release of her controversial self-titled hit album. thoughts?

view all 287,928 comments

user1: HERE BEFORE LANDO 😁

landonorris: LOVE IT

landonorris: GORGEOUS

landonorris: SHOW STOPPING

landonorris: SALIVATING !!! ONLY SHE CAN DO THAT

landonorris: SHE’S SOOOOOOO 😻😻😻😻😻

landonorris: WEDDING NOW!!!! 💍

-> ham1ltonshaderoom: stop camping out in our comments. we will block you.

user2: the way he literally is obsessed with yn

-> user3: like bro MOVE!!!! we’re obsessed with yn too 😭

-> user4: it’d be cute if it wasn’t cringe

user5: lando norris please can you not text her this

-> landonorris: she blocked me

-> landonorris: temporary setback

-> landonorris: still together!!!

-> user6: need to be as delusional as you. need to get on whatever you’re on rn 😭😭

user7: lando still being whipped after the release of P4THETIC! is insane!!!!!!

-> user8: like she wrote a number one song about how much of a loser you are and you’re still simping 😭 need her badly. i just know she’d change my life.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Original Post:

r/AmItheAsshole

Posted by u/p4throwaway1234

AITA for not breaking up with my girlfriend after she wrote a song about how pathetic I am?

okay so, throwaway because this is kind of embarrassing. my (24M) girlfriend (23F) is a singer-songwriter, and recently she released a song. it’s super catchy and doing really well, but it’s… definitely about me. she doesn’t say my name, but the lyrics are about how she’s dating this “pathetic, lovesick fool” who “worships the ground she walks on” and “thinks he’s a prince when he’s really just a jester.”

here’s the thing: i honestly didn’t care 🤷. i know i’m kind of obsessed with her, and yeah, i get clingy sometimes. it’s a joke between us, and i thought that was her way of being playful. i even posted the song on my socials when it dropped because i was proud of her.

but my friends are all saying it’s humiliating and disrespectful, and i should break up with her. now she’s upset because she found out they’ve been telling me this, and she blocked me on everything. i just want to know if i’m the asshole for not immediately dumping her like my friends think i should.

Top Comments:

[deleted]:

“A lovesick fool who worships the ground she walks on”? Bro, she doesn’t respect you. YTA for staying with someone who thinks you’re pathetic.

u/relationshipguru420:

bro, read your own post. she wrote a whole song called about YOU being PATHETIC. and you’re still simping? get a grip.

u/toomuchdrama69:

INFO: Is she still blocked? Because if she wrote a whole diss track about you and blocked you, I think the relationship is over.

u/throwawaydetective:

Wait… is this about who I think it is? If it is, there’s no way this guy doesn’t know.

u/relationshipwreckage:

Dude, she literally called you a jester. It’s giving clown.

u/sadboiforlife:

yta. if my gf wrote a song like that and then got mad when ppl told me to leave her, i’d be out. respect yourself, my guy.

u/wedoresearch:

sounds like she’s making money off your humiliation. yta for staying in a toxic relationship.

OP’s Update:

(two days later)

u/p4throwaway1234

UPDATE: we talked it out and we’re back together. 😊

so after all the drama, we talked and sorted things out. she said she didn’t mean to hurt me with the song—it’s just her way of expressing herself. and honestly? i get it. i love her creativity, even if it’s at my expense sometimes. i told her i’m not listening to my friends anymore, and we’re stronger than ever now. thanks for the advice, everyone! 😁

Comments on the Update:

u/relationshipwreckage:

WHAT?

u/toomuchdrama69:

bro.

u/wedoresearch:

this has to be satire.

u/sadboiforlife:

you have got to be kidding me.

OP’s Replies:

u/p4throwaway1234:

nah, we’re solid. it was all a misunderstanding. she didn’t mean it in a bad way, and we laughed about it.

u/sadboiforlife:

she BLOCKED you.

u/p4throwaway1234:

yeah, but it was just temporary. we’re good now. everyone fights sometimes!!

u/relationshipwreckage:

she made a song calling you pathetic and somehow that’s okay?

u/p4throwaway1234:

it’s art. she’s passionate. i’m her muse.

u/yikesmcgee:

😭 i can’t. you deserve better, king.

u/throwaway1234:

yes and she’s the best. ❤️

u/toomuchdrama69:

no, bro, you’re delusional.

u/p4throwaway1234:

nah, just in love. 💕

u/wedoresearch:

can’t wait for the next song called ST1LL P4THETIC.

u/p4throwaway1234:

and i’d stream it.

u/relationshipwreckage:

you can’t save him.

u/sadboiforlife:

fr. he’s too far gone.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[novvabee]

Hi,

Could you do a romantic poly!marauder (without peter) x reader where they are in a established relationship and maybe James (I just imagine it coming for him) having baby fever and dropping hint at it to make the others want to a start a family ?

omg! I totally can see James wanting a family like straight away, but the others are kind of hesitant. Hope this fits your vision ❤️

Oh baby, baby fever

summary: james wants a baby

cw: suggestive? talk about starting a family

James had been more needy and cuddly in the past couple of days. He was holding you closer, tighter to his chest in the mornings, being incredibly sweet. And this is James we’re talking about. He normally treated you like royalty, but he had somehow stepped it up after spending the day at work with you.

You had been a nanny for a family for about a year now, and you were loving the job. The family was so kind and generous, and they often felt like an extension of your own family. The children were no different. They were the sweetest kids with the most patience and understanding that you had ever seen in a child. There was a boy, Liam, who was 5, and a little girl named Ruth, 4. They were the reason you loved your job, getting to see them and care for them was the best job you could have ever asked for.

Two days ago, you had planned a trip to the zoo for the two, and were so excited to spend the whole day with them. James, who had the day off, offered to come with. He argued that it would be better to have two adult sets of eyes to watch over the children, safer, and you agreed. You didn’t know how the children would take it at first, him being a stranger, but just like everyone else seemed to, they took to him instantly.

Liam was so happy to have a boy to rough around with (though james was about 3 and a half feet teller and much, much stronger) and Ruth seemed to develop a bit of a crush, having James tie her pink sparkly shoes, hold his hand to cross the street, listen to her jokes and animal facts she had learned, and hold her favorite stuffed animal when she got tired of holding it herself.

James never once complained. He played and laughed with the kids, he carried both, one in each arm, whenever they asked, he bought them each a toy from the gift shop with his own money when they asked. He was doing amazing.

There was a different side to James that you saw. You were used to the kindness and warmth of him, but this was different. He was so gentle with them, it came so easy to him. You noted the moments he would get down to their level to hear them properly, to make sure they felt heard even though they were mostly talking nonsense or silly kid things. He lifted them up to see the animals without them having to ask, he just knew they wouldn’t be about to see over the fence. He made sure they had water and snacks whenever they wanted them.

It took a lot of pressure and stress off of you, put some ideas into your head… you thought that he would make a great dad.

And it seems, James had the same thoughts. The next day he dropped his first hint. All four of you and your boys were lounging about on the couch and watching movies. The day was quite glum out and you all wanted to curl up and use each other for warmth. You were curled into Remus’s side, James laying on you, his head on your chest and body between your legs, Sirius’s head in Remus’s lap. You were a big puddle of happiness. While watching a particularly boring part of the movie, James began running his hands along your sides, under your shirt. You didn’t mind, his hands were always so warm and soft. It gave you goosebumps in the best way. He moved his hands from your sides to your stomach, right under your belly button. He was dragging his fingers along your bare skin before looking at your stomach and kissing it. He laid his head back down and watched the move like nothing, continuing to rub your sides, but you knew what he was after. You knew what he was thinking and why. 

The next hint was dropped while you were all in the kitchen. Remus finishing cooking dinner for you, and the three of you waiting patiently at the table. You had somehow stumbled into the conversation of which teachers you had crushes on when you were younger. 

“Oh come on, Minnie had that authoritative thing going for her.” Sirius confidently announced over the noise of the kitchen.

“McGonagall? Sirius, what is wrong with you?” Remus looked over from the stove, baffled. You giggled and went to stick up for Sirius.

“I don't know,” you joked “She had sort of a milf vibe don't you think?”

The boys all laughed. James replied with a smirk from across the table“You’d know all about that Y/N, wouldn’t you?”

You tilted your head at him and furrowed your brows but chuckled “What do you mean Jamesie?”

“I just mean,” he starts, Remus serving you and Sirius both plates, “It takes one to know one.”

You all started laughing heartily at his comment.

“James mate, I think she’s lacking the main component for that.” Sirius teased.

“What do you mean?” James asked.

“She's not a mother.” 

“She could be,” James said slyly, a smirk cutting across his face.

“Woah woah” Remus said at the same time Sirius laughed a “What are you planning Potter?” you just laughed, you knew exactly what he was getting at. You were letting him have his fun before the seriousness sets in, before that very real, very important discussion happens. 

The next hint was dropped during game night. You had all decided to play a few games like Overcooked and Mario Party. It was quite a fun night full of swearing and playful anger. It was a good outlet to yell at each other without it being serious or mean in any way. A great way to let out all of your competitive energy. You were playing a round of Mario Party and losing, bad. Every mini game the boys seemed to team up on you. “Fuck me!” you let out.

James took this as his sign to slide in behind you and wrap his arms around you “You know that can be arranged, love.” he drawled, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 

Remus and Sirius shared a look. “What’s gotten into him?” Sirius asked.

“He wants to have a baby.” you explained. You weren’t sure how the other boys hadn’t picked up on it. It wasn’t exactly something that  you had all talked about yet, you just liked being together, the four of you, having fun and sharing a life with each other. You weren't sure about… a baby. 

The whole room turned attention to James, who seemed to have turned shy. “I just-,” he started, “I think that… Y/N would make a wonderful mother, and I think I would be a pretty good dad? And I love children, I want one. I’m not saying, I mean, I-I don’t know…” He finished, unconfident and a little deterred.

You sighed, sitting up and readjusting to sit in his lap, facing him. “Jamie baby,” You said, taking his face in your hands, “look, you would be an amazing dad, the best dad in the world. But honey, I don’t think we are all ready for that right now.” you looked over to Sirius and Remus for agreement, they nodded and encouraged you to keep going. “James, we’re still really young. And I know you had a lot of fun with the kids I nanny, but that is different. Those are someone else's kids. Kids that we can have fun with and do fun things with them and then send them on their way back home where they scream and cry and throw tantrums. They aren’t always so perfect. And you’ve never had to change their diapers or deal with them when they're sick and when they are inconsolable. It was fun, but there is a whole other side to parenting, a hard and serious one.” Sirius opened his mouth to make a comment at that but Remus nudged him in the ribs and shook his head. “So baby, I am not saying no. But I am saying not right now. Is that understandable?” you asked.

James looked at you and nodded, you could tell he knew it wasn't the right time, but deep down that is something he wants. You kissed his cheek to try and cheer him up a bit, you know he would need a little bit to be sad, but that he would inevitably come around.

Remus, noticing that James was still upset, came up with a proposition. “How about we work our way up? We start small and then see where we are after. What if we get a cat or a dog?” He suggests.

Sirius squinted his eyes and said “How about a plant?”

James chuckled, the sound making your heart feel less heavy. “I would like a cat…”

“Damnit” Sirius said under his breath.

[eff-plays]

I got a party banter between Bellara and Taash about how the Lords of Fortune steal elven artifacts. And then Taash clarifies later that they have a Dalish expert on the team so they can check to make sure the Lords don't sell something culturally important and instead return it to the elves.

Like. I get it. You want the Lords to be fun swashbuckler Disney pirates and Robin Hoods instead of actual pirates who steal and plunder. Because we're only now in Western society realizing that stealing from indigenous groups is, uh, bad. But like. Writing really uninteresting factions for your "dark" fantasy (tho lbr Dragon Age hasn't been dark fantasy since DA2) isn't gonna solve real-world neo-colonialism, ya know? The Lords not stealing priceless elven artifacts and returning them to the elves doesn't signal to me that the Lords are total rascally good guys, it signals to me that BioWare itself is trying really hard to seem morally conscious. "See? We know stealing from other cultures is bad!!!"

And man. Not to be a "political correctness has poisoned media" grifter on main (tbh it's less political correctness itself and more the commodification of real-world activism) but I couldn't help but imagine how this convo would've played out in earlier games, potentially even Inquisition.

You could've so EASILY made this interesting while giving the Lords and Taash and Bellara a lot more depth, while also making it clear that stealing from indigenous groups is wrong.

Just have the Lords, yeah, actually sell those artifacts. But also establish that the Lords take in and help elves from all walks of life. That they free slaves, or collaborate with alienages. Then you could have Taash defend the practice by saying to Bellara that little orphaned elf kids being sold as slaves probably don't give a flying fuck about some artifacts they're never gonna see, but the money from selling those artifacts goes to buying them food. And have Bellara fire back that preserving elven culture is also part of its survival, and that there are Dalish clans that would be willing to pay for them or offer something in return. Or have her say that the Lords are doing charity for the sake of recruitment rather than actual altruism. And then Taash responds that those high and mighty Dalish elves don't do shit to help abandoned city elves, just because those aren't part of their correct elven subculture, and they care more about reclaiming old glory than helping the people that exist here and now.

Then you could have side missions or at least codex entries that describe maybe some Lord recruit being conflicted about what they're doing. Maybe a few of them are collaborating to hijack a deal or steal back an artifact. Have implications that some high-ranking Lords are, in fact, using those artifacts for their own gain, despite claiming otherwise. Have some Lords genuinely trying to help, and believing that gold and trinkets don't matter as much as people's lives, so they sell them in exchange for safety for refugees or slaves or some other helpless group.

But no. Instead it's "hey do you steal from my people?" "nah lmao we have a cultural advisor don't even worry about it" "oh wow so cool and woke of you!" And then that's it. No need for any further discussion. No conflict and no complexity. No bad actors and moral quandaries.

Weh.

[clini-calia]

It's tough. It is.

I'm a 30-year-old transgender man. From ages 16 to 23-ish, I was stuck in the alt-right pipeline, as well. I watched all that stupid bullshit with "feminists getting owned!!!1!" and what the fuck ever else. I think what pushed me towards it was how people on Tumblr used to be upset over EVERYTHING and would belittle me for my masculinity. I remember seeing a post that had a gif of a scene from some anime, I dunno which one, and it was of a naked girl laying down. People were complaining about her breasts not being realistic - it wasn't the size, it was that they weren't sagging or drooping, and that men need to be portrayed with rock hard dicks that never soften or whatever. But I was just sitting there thinking, "She's laying down... lol. Gravity is literally pushing her breasts against her chest, not pulling them down."

Anyway. Posts like that, but they got worse. I've had a lot of people on the left question my gender. "Why would you want to be a man? Women are the better choice." "I don't know why you'd want to do that, why give up your femininity?" I got into a small argument with a woman once on it, basically saying that it felt like trans men weren't really counted much and were largely ignored in the trans community, along with non binary people, who are usually just treated as "Women Lite." She got so angry that she told me, "You probably just wanna be a guy because you're too ugly to get one for yourself."

That's what tipped me over to the right for a bit. Until I realized they cared even less about me and that if given the chance, well. What happened on November 5th would happen, and they'd look for any excuse to strip me of my rights.

For cis, straight, white men it's not so easy to get out of. They're welcomed with open arms, there's no looming threat of having their rights taken away. So the pull of some "brotherhood" is more enticing. I was groomed and sexually assaulted by a man, but I was also sexually assaulted and groomed by a woman. I'll always believe that, no matter what, humans are just humans. White, black, gay, straight, trans, cis, man, woman - humans. And humans can be good, and they can also fucking suck. So I'll never say "all men are trash" or "all women are garbage" or anything like it ever again.

I see men's issues with mental health. I wish they would understand that it's the patriarchy that ultimately fuels those issues, and I wish some women would see how they also contribute to it. I see a lot of younger women these days placing men's entire values on their income, their careers, their appearances, what they can buy for them... I've seen a tweet of dudes just chilling and playing video games, showing off Pokemon cards or some shit and a woman quote retweeted it and said, "Men used to fight in wars. 🙄" Yeah. That'll stop toxic masculinity - tell men they're not real men unless they go to war and give up what makes them happy. Nice...

The patriarchy hurts women by enforcing the idea that they are to submit to men's wishes, stay at home, clean, cook, have babies. That's all women are allowed to experience.

The patriarchy hurts men by enforcing the idea that they are to overwork themselves, abandon any non traditional masculine interests and basic human emotions in favor of that work, and go to fight and possibly die in wars.

These ideals were put into place as soon as different tribes, races, countries and so on realized that, "Oh. There's OTHER types of people, and I want to be the most powerful and rich so they don't take what I have. Hmm. Better make sure women can only spit out plenty of babies and that plenty of those babies are men to be my soldiers and workforce."

If you're a man that supports any of those ideas, fuck you. If you're a woman that supports any of those ideas, fuck you, too. I'm sick and tired of generalizing people. I'm sick and tired of having to give up pieces of ourselves in order to put more money in billionaire's pockets. I'm sick and tired of men being told they're "too feminine" to be a man over being into stuff like sewing, baking, dolls, fashion, cozy games and I'm tired of seeing women being told they're "too masculine" to be a woman for being into coding, mechanical work, FPS games, science and I'm tired of seeing non binary people being told they're too much of one or the other to be non binary.

I'm tired of seeing men put down other men for having a fucking emotion other than anger or goddamn numbness. I'm tired of seeing women put down other women for being more attractive or not attractive enough. Just... stupid, petty bullshit that should have been over and done with decades ago, why the fuck are we STILL here?

It's tough. Because I love men and care deeply about men. But I also don't think we need to baby them and pat them on the back and say, "It's OK that you joined a fascist group of people that openly and proudly call themselves Nazis." And if a man ever tells me or any woman or AFAB person that it's "your body, my choice," I will grab the nearest blunt object I can get my hands on and beat the snot, shit, and blood out of them.

But I do think we need to work harder at not alienating our CIS, straight, white, male allies. We need to stop generalizing everybody and correct our language when talking about people. And we especially need to make it clear that the alt-right only seeks to divide for their own benefit, not for anyone else's. It's money and power that they want. Men, unless you are wealthy, you are just a vote and a pawn to them, nothing else. We need Democrats in the USA to stop rolling over and blowing kisses to Republicans in the hopes that they'll play nice and cut us some slack. It's not going to happen, not in meaningful numbers. And we NEED to crack down harder on alt-right online spaces. I don't give a fuck no more, get rid of that shit, I don't care if it's seen as too extreme or censorship, if you give these dangerous people a place to commune and feel safe with their harmful ideologies, then it WILL spill over into other spaces. And parents of young children: you need to BE BETTER at monitoring what your kids are seeing and doing online. Take it from someone who no-lifes online games: they are going into these spaces and saying heinous, horrible shit. They are being groomed, they are saying slurs and sexually harassing women, they are even seeking sexual attention and guidance from adults and strangers, and some of those adults are sick enough to take them up on their offers. One little trip into a few public instances of games like VRChat will be all the proof you need. I love the Internet, I really do, but I also see how its anonymity has done harm to us and has severely damaged how young people interact with each other, online and offline.

Anyway, sorry that was so long. I've been pissed the fuck off since I saw that Trump "won" the election and this shit has been on my mind for years, just even more so now.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - They Want to Spoil You

Warnings: /

A/N: They realize you're not well-off or are even struggling financially and that makes them want to take care of you even more. Per popular request <3.

MASTERLIST

Jin

Jin was already lying in bed when you got out of the bathroom. You grabbed your pyjamas from your bag as he watched you change.

"Oh no ..." you mumbled when you saw that the seams in your side tore and left a gap in your top. "Can I borrow a t-shirt?" you asked as you turned to your boyfriend but you already knew the answer. You were beginning to suspect too that Jin even preferred it if you wore his clothes.

"Do you need new pyjamas?"

"No, I'll just sew this up and they'll be like new again," you told as you grabbed Jin's t-shirt from one of the dressers.

"Just get a new pair," said Jin as he sat leaning against his pillow.

"I can already barely get through the month, I can't just buy new clothes whenever there's a tear in them," you laughed as you pulled on Jin's white t-shirt. You climbed into the bed but your smile faded when you saw Jin frowning.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently and scooted closer to him.

"You barely get through the month?" asked Jin seriously. Your mouth parted and your face went blank. Your cheeks turned pink as you thought about how much less you earned compared to Jin. You had made your peace with it already when you two began dating but the difference between your incomes and savings never crossed Jin's mind.

"It's not that bad," you smiled and tried to reassure your boyfriend. "I have a beginner's salary, it's normal."

"It's not normal if you're struggling," said Jin sternly as he sat up straight and his hand cupped your cheek. "Let me take care of you." He frowned even worse.

"You don't have to take care of me, Jin, I'm fine, really," you insisted although the past few months have been really tight for you financially. Your rent took most of the money whilst you were staying at Jin's place the majority of the nights. Then there was the food and the bills, the everyday things and the public transport. Your phone was so battered that the screen had began to flicker a couple of weeks ago.

A look so determined filled Jin's eyes that it began to worry you a little.

"Please don't think about it anymore, Jinnie," you begged as you took his cheeks and kissed him. He struggled to respond at first, his mind in a storm, but he couldn't resist your soft lips.

The next day when you woke up, you reached for the nightstand blindly to check the time on your phone but you couldn't find it. You rose your head and frowned when your phone was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you seen my phone?" you mumbled sleepily when you came into the living area, finding Jin already dressed in another one of his perfect outfits. It must have been late in the morning judging by the daylight if not close to noon. Jin liked to sleep in as well but not that day. He had been up since early morning.

"Here you go, princess," said Jin as he handed you a phone.

"This isn't my phone?" you asked confused and tried to give it back to Jin. It seemed brand new so you figured he changed his.

"It's your phone," insisted Jin, his eyes still filled with the same unbending look as the night before. You frowned and tapped the screen. The background was the same as on your phone, the contacts and the apps, everything was the same but the machine itself.

You looked up and finally noticed the dozens of bags lying around on the sofa and the coffee table.

"What's all this?" you breathed, your frown only deepening.

"You bought this for yourself, princess," said Jin as he took your free hand and placed a black card in your palm.

"N-No, I didn't," you backed away but tried to give the card back to Jin at the same time. He didn't even look at your hand.

"Jin, please," you begged when you realized what he was doing. "I don't need any of this—"

"Y/N," warned Jin when he turned to you. "Not another word." His hands caressed your neck gently before they moved up to your jaw and made you look up at him. He leaned in slowly and kissed you, silencing any protests that might want to come out of your mouth.

"I'll know if you won't use the card, Y/N," he cautioned against your lips, sending shivers down your spine, but you only wanted another kiss. Jin backed away when you searched for his plush lips again. You opened your eyes, seeing the stern look on Jin's handsome face.

"Just let me take care of you, princess," he spoke quietly, his chest vibrating with the deepness of his voice. You nodded weakly, folding at the prospect of Jin's affection. True to your presumptions, he rewarded you with another tender kiss.

Namjoon

You found your boyfriend sitting on the sofa, checking something on his laptop when you took a seat beside him.

"Are you busy?" you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

"No, it's just some stupid emails," said Namjoon absently, his eyes scanning through the unnecessarily long blocks of text. "What is it, baby?"

"I was just ... I was wondering if ..." You cleared your throat as you squeezed your hands nervously. "If you could maybe lend me some money," you asked with difficulty. Your cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment when Namjoon tore his gaze from his laptop and looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing into a heavy frown.

"I'd pay you back everything," you said quickly. "It's just for rent—"

"What do you mean you'd pay me back?" asked Namjoon sternly, a tempest of thoughts behind his dark irises.

"I'll get my paycheck next week and I'll pay you back every cent, I promise," you explained although the demanding look on his features gave you little hope. His pensive eyes studied your face wordlessly. "It's okay if you don't want to, I'll ask my mom—"

"For rent?" Namjoon cut you off. His frown only grew deeper as he struggled to understand what you were asking.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have asked; I know it's weird," you said quickly and took Namjoon's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You tried to get up but he caught your wrist and pulled you back down.

"How much do you make?" demanded Namjoon. His voice was gentle but no less inquisitive. Your face went blank as more heat rose to your face. You didn't even make a hundredth of what Namjoon was bringing in in your first job as a beginner with no position.

"You know I don't make as much as you do," you swallowed. Even though your answer gave little information, Namjoon realized for the first time since you began dating that you might be financially unstable. He knew what you did and you liked your job but since money was never an issue for him, he never considered it might be an issue for you.

"I'll take care of it," nodded Namjoon and smoothed his thumb gently across your cheek before he got up.

"Take care of what?" you asked wide-eyed as you stared up at him. "Namjoon, I just need—"

"I'll take care of it," repeated Namjoon and gave your forehead a kiss as he buttoned his suit jacket. He grabbed his phone and his wallet and made for the door.

"Namjoon," you called again but he was adamant and gone.

A few hours later, you were looking through the fridge to think of some ideas for dinner when Namjoon came back. He set down a brown folder on the kitchen isle with a credit card on top of it before he pulled off his jacket and came to you for a kiss. You closed the fridge blindly as you responded to his lips but your mind was on the folder.

"What's this?" you asked as you removed the card from the brown paper and opened the file. It was a title deed with your name on it as part of a property transfer. The apartment in question was your rental paid in full and written in your name. Your eyebrows gathered into a frown as your mouth parted and your stomach gave a nervous squeeze.

"I told you I'd take care of it," said Namjoon easily and grabbed some orange juice from the fridge. You stared at him, your frown as deep as ever.

"You bought my apartment?" you asked astounded.

"No, you bought your apartment," said Namjoon as he drank the cold juice from a crystal glass. His fingers sat down on top of the dark credit card and he pushed it towards you. The letters of your name were engraved on the luxurious-painted plastic.

"Are you insane?" you blurted, your chest riddled with guilt. You were used to working hard for everything you had and hated accepting things from others. Even birthday gifts if too extravagant made you uncomfortable.

"I can't accept this, I won't accept this, Namjoon," you insisted although you could see it on his face that you were shouting in deaf ears. Your boyfriend was one of the most intransigent people in the world and when he decided on something there was no changing his mind.

"It's yours," said Namjoon nonchalantly, "Whether you like it or not."

Your eyes flinched in the direction of the crackling fireplace as you held the folder in your hands. Namjoon followed your gaze and smiled with amusement.

"I have a digital copy, baby," said Namjoon as he came closer to you. "The apartment is yours and so is the card." His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you to him, his forehead almost leaning against yours whilst you stared up at him.

"I'll know if you won't spend anything," he purred a warning and came even closer. "And I won't like it if you don't spend anything." His deep voice gave you goosebumps as your eyes flicked down to his plush lips.

"I want to spoil you, baby," said Namjoon against your soft mouth. "You should let me." He closed the space between your lips and kissed you deeply enough for the folder to fall from your hands as he pulled your waist to his hips.

Yoongi

"Fuck ..." you mumbled under your breath as you scrolled through the bills on your email, your back against the foot of the sofa and your laptop on the coffee table. Your stomach was in a tight knot. You tried to calculate the priorities but even that surpassed the amount that was left on your bank account from your last paycheck.

"What is it?" asked Yoongi as he sat on the sofa behind you, his legs on each side of your frame when he kissed the top of your head.

"Nothing," you whispered and closed your laptop quickly. You looked up and gratefully responded to Yoongi kissing your lips. His hand was caressing your neck gently, the cold rings on his long fingers giving you goosebumps as they made contact with your warm skin.

"You sure?" asked Yoongi when he pulled away a little. You set your eyes forward again and bit your lip as you nodded. Yoongi's hand glided around your neck and pushed back your soft hair as he began to run his fingers through it. You leaned your head against the sofa and closed your eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong," said Yoongi. His voice was deep and quiet but no less authoritative.

"Nothing's wrong," you insisted as you shook your head a little. Yoongi frowned more and more with each second. You didn't even have to open your eyes to see his expression. You knew that he knew that you were hiding something.

"You don't trust me anymore, jagi?" asked Yoongi. His hand came down to your cheek and caressed you gently. Your eyes opened at those words and you turned around to look at him.

"Of course I trust you," you spoke feverishly.

"Why won't you talk to me then?" said Yoongi as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Because it's nothing," you lied. "And you'll worry and think that you have to fix it."

"Fix what?" pressed Yoongi. You groaned desperately and buried your face into the sofa. Yoongi seized the opportunity and opened your laptop behind your back, his eyes scanning over the bills.

"No, wait—" you tried to close the laptop when you noticed what he was doing but it was already too late. He saw everything.

"Yoongi, don't do anything," you begged as you got up to your knees and cupped his face. The look in his eyes was as hard and unmoving as a mountain and your words fell on deaf ears. He pulled the wallet from his back pocket and slid out a slick black credit card.

"Here you go, kitten, happy anniversary," said Yoongi as he offered you the card. You stood up with a frown.

"Our anniversary won't be for three months," you protested although that was far from Yoongi's point or yours for that matter. He stood up as well, took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his card.

"You can give me that card all you want but I won't spend a dime," you insisted. Yoongi turned to you slowly and took a good look at you. His eyes made your stomach dance with butterflies and fireworks.

"Fine," said Yoongi as he came closer to you. "Then I'll make you." His voice send shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He took your hand and you had no choice but to follow him. He drove you half-way across town until you arrived to a large glass building.

"Why are we here?" you questioned when Yoongi opened the car door for you. "Please, let's just go home." You took your boyfriend's hand but he wasn't paying your tugs no mind.

"Yoongi," you gasped under your breath and squeezed his hand tightly when he led you inside the Cartier boutique. It was too late to leave without causing a scene in front of the elegant saleswomen.

"Mr Min," said the older one of the two with her hair in a neat bun. "We're so happy to see you're back. It's been too long," smiled the other lady and took in the sight of you, giving you a warm smile as well.

"We have a very special thing for you," said the older lady and disappeared in the back.

"Yoongi," you pleaded in a whisper as you tugged on his hand a little but his fingers were tightly intertwined with yours. Yoongi looked down into your eyes, defeating you in an instance.

"This is one of our rarest and most sought after items, Mr Min," purred the older saleslady. She placed a beautiful red box on the glass counter before you and opened it with care. "This is out Panthere Maillon Etrier necklace in 18 carat white gold. It's distinguished for its geometric shape with the center of the necklace set with brilliant cut diamonds around 2,15 carats."

Your lips parted as your face went blank in the face of the exquisite piece of jewellery. You had never even stood in a jewellery shop, much less in Cartier itself. Yoongi observed your reaction for a while before he nodded to the saleslady.

"Very good," she smiled and motioned to her assistant to take care of the payment.

You realized that the purchase was agreed to and looked up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Please," said the younger saleslady when she gestured elegantly at the payment terminal. Your gaze shifted between her, the astronomical number on the screen and Yoongi.

"Your card, kitten," said Yoongi as he stared down at you. You were still clutching to the black piece of plastic in your clammy hand. You swallowed before you inched the card closer to the terminal until it made a sound of approval.

"See? It's not that hard," purred Yoongi in your ear as his arm wrapped around your waist. You turned to him, your lips only inches apart. "You can use it for other things now too, kitten, and I'll know if you won't," he spoke quietly, his hot breath teasing your mouth as he slowly closed the space between you and kissed you greedily.

Hoseok

Although you have been dating Hoseok for a while now, you were never very comfortable talking about money with him. You grew up poor and even though you were just starting your first job now, you still struggled quite a lot. You didn't mind that Hoseok made a lot of money, you accepted that right in the beginning of your relationship, but you never wanted to talk about your situation because of that. Yet when you had a glass of wine too much with your dinner last week, you told Hoseok about your upbringing and how the notion of always having to save money was still rooted deep inside of you.

You shouldn't have said anything, though, because once Hoseok found out about it, he began to shower you with gifts every single day. You didn't mind him paying for meals when you went out but the gifts he was giving you now weren't anything short of luxurious.

"Hobi, I swear if you get me another thing—" you threatened when you saw the timeless Hermès Kelly on your nightstand. Your stomach twisted into knots just at the idea of how much it must have cost.

When you turned around with your index pointed at Hoseok, he was standing so close to you that the wind was knocked out of you. Your lips parted as Hobi towered over you.

"Or what?" he asked with an amused smile resting on his lips and in his dark eyes. You were at a loss for words. "Or what, kitten?" he asked again, taking another half a step closer to you and closed the space between your bodies.

"You should look what's inside, baby," Hoseok encouraged, enjoying every moment of seeing the puzzled and flushed look on your face.

You looked inside the leather bag hesitantly and found a creamy white jewellery box inside. It was already clutched in your fingers before you let it go and took a step back, your hands hugging your elbows as the corners of your eyebrows pulled downwards.

"I don't want it, you spoke weakly as Hoseok frowned at your reaction.

"You haven't even looked at it," said Hoseok but you shook your head and backed away some more.

"I don't want it - I didn't earn it and I sure as hell don't deserve it," you tried to leave the bedroom but Hoseok caught your wrist.

"Y/N," he called as he cupped your neck just beneath your jaw and made you look up at him but you were avoiding his eyes. "Y/N," Hoseok warned again and you looked at him. His frown softened when he saw the sad look on your face.

"That's the least of what you deserve, baby." He brushed his thumbs along the gentle line of your jaw. "Stop fighting me and let me take care of you." Hoseok leaned his forehead against yours, his closeness calming down your anxiety immediately. Your arms found their way around his sides as you came closer, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"It's okay, baby, you'll get used to it," Hoseok spoke gently against your hair before he kissed the top of your head, his hands caressing your back.

"Wear it to the opera tonight, baby," he said after a while. "Will you wear it for me, kitten?" Hoseok cupped your cheeks again and made you look up at him. You nodded a little. He smiled and leaned in, his thumbs caressing your soft skin as he kissed you tenderly.

When you finally found the courage to come near the bag and the jewellery box again, you were already wearing your evening dress. You opened the delicate velvet box and found a pearl necklace in 18 carat yellow gold. The letters Mikimoto were engraved in the satin interior of the box.

"Do you like it?" smiled Hoseok as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before he pressed a soft kiss on your bare shoulder.

You nodded weakly as you studied the necklace without a breath in your lungs. "It's beautiful."

Hoseok took the necklace from the box as you scooped up your hair and the cold pearls made contact with your warm skin. Hoseok fastened the clip in the back and took your soft hair from your hands, his fingers letting them fall down your back.

"You're so beautiful, baby," purred Hoseok when his hands returned to your waist and pulled you to him as his lips left tender kisses along your shoulder.

Jimin

When you got back from work, you were surprised to find Jimin already at home. It was barely the afternoon and he sometimes stayed at the office until evening.

"Hey," you greeted softly as you cuddled up next to him on the sofa. You wrapped your arms around his sides and leaned against his chest but he didn't budge. Jimin was pretending to watch the TV and refused to even say hello.

You sat up perplexed as you studied your boyfriend's sullen frown.

"What's wrong?" you breathed, your chest heavy with guilt although you had no idea what you did wrong. You took your boyfriend's hand and squeezed it pleadingly but Jimin gave no reaction.

"Jimin-ah," you tried again, your voice almost cracking. You couldn't stand having him be upset with you, especially when you had no idea what could have made him react this way. Jimin was never upset with you no matter what, which is why his reaction affected you so much.

The desperation in your voice made Jimin break his harsh facade. He turned to you frowning no less.

"Why do you think I gave you that card?" said Jimin bitterly but you were lost. He leaned forward and grabbed the bank statement from the coffee table and showed it to you.

"You promised me that you would spend money on that card, Y/N," said Jimin when you read through the humble list of meals you had paid with Jimin's card, the 30 dollars that you had spent on buying some cute office supplies and the 20 dollars you had left at the bookstore.

"But I did," you insisted, showing Jimin the bank statement that he knew by heart now. He rolled his eyes and glared at you again. You had never seen him behave like this before. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at you. A part of you knew that he wanted you to spend more money but there was nothing you really needed that much. After Jimin found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he pulled the card right from his wallet and gave it to you.

"You promised me, Y/N," said Jimin and got up. Your wide eyes followed him and your lips were parted in shock. He grabbed his car keys and waited for you to get up as well.

"What are you doing?" you asked your boyfriend.

"I'm making you keep your promises to me, sweetheart," said Jimin darkly as he took your hand and led you down to his car.

Jimin drove you to the enormous glass building where he liked to shop. You had been there with him a hundred times before but the prices made your stomach twist into knots.

"Jimin, this isn't necessary—" you tried to reason with him but he only grabbed your hand and led you straight to Tiffany & Co.

"Jimin, please," you begged him as your chest grew heavy with guilt. The salespeople knew him. He already got you a pair of their earrings before but you had only worn them once to your anniversary dinner for fear of losing them.

Jimin picked out a 20 carat diamond necklace for you since he knew you'd refuse to choose any of the items the salespeople displayed especially for him.

Your boyfriend gave you his card and stared at you. He was still angry with you and the sight of it made your heart break.

"Jimin," you pleaded but he didn't budge. The lady at the cash registry waited patiently when the five digit number appeared on the payment terminal in front of you.

"Y/N," Jimin warned when he saw you hesitate. You swallowed and gave in. You pressed Jimin's card against the terminal and felt even worse when it gave a sound of approval.

Jimin took you to Dior next, then Celine, Balenciaga and even Chanel where his card caused more rings of approval from the payment terminal. Your boyfriend's frown, however, began to melt away when he saw you try on couture and get tended to from every direction by the salespeople.

Jimin leaned against the door frame of your dressing room as he watched you put on a beautiful white dress with a black ribbon that screamed Chanel. He glanced over his shoulder before he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Jimin leaned his chin against your shoulder as he watched you in the mirror.

"See? It's not that hard, baby," he purred before he pressed a soft kiss on your exposed neck and you couldn't help but lean back against him.

Taehyung

"What's this?" asked your boyfriend as he opened his bank statement. You looked up with big wide eyes and your heart sank a little. After Taehyung found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he gave you his card and practically threatened you to spend money on it when you refused.

"I-I just ... " you began to stutter. You had bought yourself a new bag for your laptop and for the things you needed whenever you went to study or to work and a perfume that you knew Taehyung loved. Those were the kind of treats you could only afford once in a while on your own but since he encouraged you, you got them for yourself although it made you feel no less guilty.

"You said ... You said I should get a few things," you spoke carefully as you watched Taehyung's frown whilst he scanned the contents of his bank statement before his dark eyes turned to you.

"Why didn't you?" he asked sternly, showing you the slip. Your eyes turned into a different kind of wide when he spoke the opposite of what you imagined. You took the bank statement and saw your two items on there along with a few meals that you paid for with Taehyung's card.

"What do you mean? I got the bag," you gestured towards the beautiful accessory that was sitting at the foot of the sofa. "And I got the perfume - it's Gucci." Even saying the brand name weighed heavy on your tongue with guilt. You had never owned a luxurious brand item in your life before you met Taehyung.

"Yeah, and you got tteokbokki, bubble tea, two coffees and spent 12 dollars at a pizza place," Taehyung listed the rest of the items of places where the card was used.

"Do you want me to pay you back?" you asked unsure but that made Taehyung frown even deeper.

"Come on," he instructed as he took your hand and led you to his car. You watched him as he drove you to the city center and pulled up in front of Cartier.

"Tae—" you protested but he cut you off by getting out of the car. "Tae," you tried again when he grabbed your hand and took you inside the luxurious boutique.

"Mr Kim," the elegant saleswoman greeted the moment she saw your boyfriend and you enter their exclusive shop. "We're so glad to see you return, it's been a while." She smiled a bright smile when she saw you before she brought out a collection of their most exquisite items, timeless pieces inspired by art deco.

You tried to get your boyfriend's attention and get out of there but he would not so much as budge. He chose a sapphire and diamond bracelet for you. When the lady presented a six digit on the computer screen, your face grew hot with fever.

"Tae, don't—" you tried but Taehyung glared at you so intensely that you were at a loss for words. He showed you his card - your card - and pressed it against the payment terminal. Your mouth parted when the machine gave a happy sound of approval and the saleslady thanked the both of you. She tried to hand you the velvet box within a beautiful paper bag but Taehyung accepted it instead.

"You're getting this when you pay for dinner tonight, kitten," said Taehyung to you and only you, his dark voice sending shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He handed you back his credit card and left a small kiss on your jaw right above your neck, his lips hiding a shadow of a smirk.

Jungkook

"Please don't make me do this," you begged when Jungkook took you to Calvin Klein and made you try on a series of luxurious fragrances. The prices of the items they sold made your cheeks flush red with discomfort. Ever since Jungkook found out that you weren't financially stable, he insisted you spend money on his elite black card. If you failed to meet his expectations, he made you go shopping and this was just one of those instances.

Jungkook's nose brushed against your neck where one of the wonderful perfumes mingled with your skin.

"You smell so good, kitten," murmured Jungkook, his dark voice giving you goosebumps. He pulled away, his face only inched from yours as he watched you with amusement. Your boyfriend leaned in slowly, a few locks of his dark hair brushing against your forehead. You put your arms around his neck and guided him to you but he pulled away at the last moment, leaving you wide-eyed and perplexed.

"Only after you use the card, kitten," said Jungkook and placed the black credit card into your hand.

"But ..." Your gaze flicked between your boyfriend and your palm. "Jungkook," you whined in protest.

"You should have done this on your own, Y/N," said Jungkook smoothly as he stepped closer to you and you backed away until your back hit the perfume counter. His long arms leaned against the wooden surface and trapped you there. A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat as you stared at you boyfriend but your gaze kept drifting to his lips.

"We could have been somewhere else right now," spoke Jungkook quietly as his eyes gained a dark, glossy look that made your knees go weak.

"O-Okay," you found yourself stuttering.

After you paid for the perfumes you liked, you were eager to leave the luxurious shopping center.

"Not so fast, kitten," said Jungkook as he caught your hand and pulled you inside the Bvlgari boutique.

"Jungkook—" you spoke breathlessly but the salesman already nodded to Jungkook and went to retrieve something from the back.

"Jungkook, please, let's just go," you tried to reason with your boyfriend, but this time, instead of tempting you with his kisses, Jungkook frowned at you. His eyebrows arched sharply as he caressed your cheek.

"Stop fighting me, kitten," he spoke quietly but his chest was vibrating with the deepness of his husky voice. "We made a deal."

Jungkook had made you promise that you would use the card and not just for the things you needed like meals and everyday items.

"Here it is, Mr Jeon," smiled the elegant salesman. He presented a beautiful velvet box on the counter and opened it carefully. A Serpenti Viper Necklace was sitting on the cushion made in its shape. The metal used was white 18 carat gold with so many diamonds it would take you a month to count them.

Your lips parted in awe as you looked up at Jungkook. His frown vanished behind a small smile when his eyes found yours, a playful look in his dark irises.

"Would you like to try it on, Miss?" asked the courteous salesman. You checked with Jungkook and he nodded to the employee. He didn't let the salesman put it on you, though, that was his job. You turned to the mirror whilst the salesman went to assist the person in the back and Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist. His gaze traced the viper's tail that led down the middle of your chest.

"Do you like it?" asked Jungkook, his hot breath teasing your ear as his eyes found yours in the mirror.

"It's exquisite," you breathed, feeling the weight of the diamonds and gold against your skin. Your hand took one of Jungkook's and intertwined your fingers with his,

"Just like you, kitten," he spoke softly and left a tender kiss on your neck.

[mariacallous]

Democrats and liberal pundits are already trying to figure out how the Trump campaign not only bested Kamala Harris in the “Blue Wall” states of the Midwest and the Rust Belt, but gained on her even in areas that should have been safe for a Democrat. Almost everywhere, Donald Trump expanded his coalition, and this time, unlike in 2016, he didn’t have to thread the needle of the Electoral College to win: He can claim the legitimacy of winning the popular vote.

Trump’s opponents are now muttering about the choice of Tim Walz, the influence of the Russians, the role of the right-wing media, and whether President Joe Biden should not have stepped aside in favor of Harris. Even the old saw about “economic anxiety” is making a comeback.

These explanations all have some merit, but mostly, they miss the point. Yes, some voters still stubbornly believe that presidents magically control the price of basic goods. Others have genuine concerns about immigration and gave in to Trump’s booming call of fascism and nativism. And some of them were just never going to vote for a woman, much less a Black woman.

But in the end, a majority of American voters chose Trump because they wanted what he was selling: a nonstop reality show of rage and resentment. Some Democrats, still gripped by the lure of wonkery, continue to scratch their heads over which policy proposals might have unlocked more votes, but that was always a mug’s game. Trump voters never cared about policies, and he rarely gave them any. (Choosing to be eaten by a shark rather than electrocuted might be a personal preference, but it’s not a policy.) His rallies involved long rants about the way he’s been treated, like a giant therapy session or a huge family gathering around a bellowing, impaired grandpa.

Back in 2021, I wrote a book about the rise of “illiberal populism,” the self-destructive tendency in some nations that leads people to participate in democratic institutions such as voting while being hostile to democracy itself, casting ballots primarily to punish other people and to curtail everyone’s rights—even their own. These movements are sometimes led by fantastically wealthy faux populists who hoodwink gullible voters by promising to solve a litany of problems that always seem to involve money, immigrants, and minorities. The appeals from these charlatans resonate most not among the very poor, but among a bored, relatively well-off middle class, usually those who are deeply uncomfortable with racial and demographic changes in their own countries.

And so it came to pass: Last night, a gaggle of millionaires and billionaires grinned and applauded for Trump. They were part of an alliance with the very people another Trump term would hurt—the young, minorities, and working families among them.

Trump, as he has shown repeatedly over the years, couldn’t care less about any of these groups. He ran for office to seize control of the apparatus of government and to evade judicial accountability for his previous actions as president. Once he is safe, he will embark on the other project he seems to truly care about: the destruction of the rule of law and any other impediments to enlarging his power.

Americans who wish to stop Trump in this assault on the American constitutional order, then, should get it out of their heads that this election could have been won if only a better candidate had made a better pitch to a few thousand people in Pennsylvania. Biden, too old and tired to mount a proper campaign, likely would have lost worse than Harris; more to the point, there was nothing even a more invigorated Biden or a less, you know, female alternative could have offered. Racial grievances, dissatisfaction with life’s travails (including substance addiction and lack of education), and resentment toward the villainous elites in faraway cities cannot be placated by housing policy or interest-rate cuts.

No candidate can reason about facts and policies with voters who have no real interest in such things. They like the promises of social revenge that flow from Trump, the tough-guy rhetoric, the simplistic “I will fix it” solutions. And he’s interesting to them, because he supports and encourages their conspiracist beliefs. (I knew Harris was in trouble when I was in Pennsylvania last week for an event and a fairly well-off business owner, who was an ardent Trump supporter, told me that Michelle Obama had conspired with the Canadians to change the state’s vote tally in 2020. And that wasn’t even the weirdest part of the conversation.)

As Jonathan Last, editor of The Bulwark, put it in a social-media post last night: The election went the way it did “because America wanted Trump. That’s it. People reaching to construct [policy] alibis for the public because they don’t want to grapple with this are whistling past the graveyard.” Last worries that we might now be in a transition to authoritarianism of the kind Russia went through in the 1990s, but I visited Russia often in those days, and much of the Russian democratic implosion was driven by genuinely brutal economic conditions and the rapid collapse of basic public services. Americans have done this to themselves during a time of peace, prosperity, and astonishingly high living standards. An affluent society that thinks it is living in a hellscape is ripe for gulling by dictators who are willing to play along with such delusions.

The bright spot in all this is that Trump and his coterie must now govern. The last time around, Trump was surrounded by a small group of moderately competent people, and these adults basically put baby bumpers and pool noodles on all the sharp edges of government. This time, Trump will rule with greater power but fewer excuses, and he—and his voters—will have to own the messes and outrages he is already planning to create.

Those voters expect that Trump will hurt others and not them. They will likely be unpleasantly surprised, much as they were in Trump’s first term. (He was, after all, voted out of office for a reason.) For the moment, some number of them have memory-holed that experience and are pretending that his vicious attacks on other Americans are just so much hot air.

Trump, unfortunately, means most of what he says. In this election, he has triggered the unfocused ire and unfounded grievances of millions of voters. Soon we will learn whether he can still trigger their decency—if there is any to be found.

[commanderyes]

Hey folks

My head is full of storms right now so thought I’d yell a little before I go back to the aether

Hatred and ignorance triumphed this week. There’s no mincing it. No matter how much some of us pointed, and pleaded, and cried out and shook shoulders, the monsters still won. They’ve won in ways we never thought we’d ever see in our lifetimes, and the skies are only gonna get darker and darker from here on out.

I’ve spent these last days trying to comfort so many of my friends, because they are terrified of what’s to come. Because their livelihoods are at risk. Because their LIVES are at risk.

I’ve had to hear them say they are so close to end it all.

And as someone that doesn’t actually live in America I can’t even begin to describe how helpless I feel. To think that I have no power to do anything but listen and encourage and sometimes throw money at them. And then there’s that feeling in the back of my head that even telling them to not give up is nothing but hollow platitudes, -because- I do not live there. Because I have the luxury to ��unplug” from all of this. That it’s not my place to speak about not giving up because it’s not -my- ass on the line

But what else am I supposed to do?

I’ve heard friends say the beliefs that helped them pull forward until now have been shattered. I’ve seen people on the internet swear they’re only gonna care for themselves and their families from now on, and the rest can burn for all they care. And I can’t say I don’t feel where they’re coming from. So many of us want to think people can be better. We want to think humans are fundamentally good. I’ve spent six years making fanfic doodles about why we should keep fighting for a world that over and over refuses to be rescued. And now I find myself walking out during breaks at work and just staring at the sky

Why indeed

Because if we give in, if we decide to stop caring entirely, then their victory over us will be absolute.

Because if we are to brave this ocean of blood and shit all over again we are going to do it together. Cling to everyone in your life that matters, cling to love and kindness, cling to happiness, cling to SPITE if that’s what it takes, and then hold on to it with all your fingers and toes and teeth, because no matter how relentlessly ugly it gets, there are still good things in this world, there are good people willing to care and try, and that is worth waking up every morning for, that is the world that needs you in it.

As others have said before, for every moment where we think “It’s So Over” there eventually comes a “We’re So Back”.

If you’re a woman, or poc, or LGBTQ+, or all at once, if you’re any minority whatsoever, or you’re just someone trying to fight the good fight; it’s going to be terrible out there, and that you have to keep on fighting harder than you’ve ever fought before is the cruelest goddamn thing. But even so, please, you have to try. You have to care. You have to endure. You have to stay strong. You have to love yourself.

Take all the time you need to grieve and rest and lick your wounds, and then get back up and continue the fight. Even if the skies get darker, the sun is still out there. Tomorrow is another day.

You are going to make it through this. You are going to outlive the monsters and see the end. You are going to smile and laugh and love again. You are going to survive this, and you are going to live

You get to live.

[echojulietfoxtrot]

Okay, everyone's had a few days to be sad. But the world didn't end, so there is stuff to be done. Mid terms are in 2 years.

This post isn't going to tell you anything other people haven't done better or in more detail, and I'm not even American, so what the fuck are you listening to me for, but I think it might be useful to somebody as a place to start, and I think it's useful to keep in mind that none of us are helpless - no matter how much it might benefit somebody else to let you think so.

I'll add to it as and when I can.

NOW

Check your ballot. Tell everyone you know to check on their ballots. Spread the word to everyone you can possibly tell to check their ballots. The Presidential election is absolutely not going to be reversed, but local races and initiatives can be decided by twenty, a dozen, two votes. The window's closing on this by now, so check into this immediately if you haven't already. And if there is any possibility for a recount where it might achieve something, make noise for one.

You would be absolutely amazed how much harm can be spared and how much good can be done at the Parks & Rec level, no matter what's happening up top. Do not waste the chance to make friction for bad guys later on, or lay down some tools for the good guys in advance.

Then, if you have a Dem Senator, call their office and urge them to confirm all Biden's judicial nominees now, right now, ASAP. Here's a rough call script.

Btw mid terms are in two years.

NEXT

Spend the next two months -

Buying a little extra boring ass shelf stable food and water on your grocery runs, and build up as much food security as you can. You're probably not gonna need it, but it's good to have, even only as a hedge against inflation or unreliable weather/disaster relief responses.

Stock up on medication you might need if you can. Organize whatever procedures you might need done if you can, including contraceptive measures. And find a reason to need a Morning After Pill or two in the next few weeks, somebody you care about might be real glad you did.

Consider making any big ticket purchases that will be affected by proposed tariffs (electronics etc), or any... slightly less conventional things you want to buy, now - but otherwise it would be a good time to lay some money aside if you can.

Get in the habit of paying for things in cash, and limiting how much information on your habits are out there. Stash a little cash somewhere, for if you want to buy something less visibly in future, too.

Do your homework about your digital footprint. Accounts, posts, doxxable clues, data, behavioral info, browsers, wifi links, cookies, consumer history, always-on "Smart" speakers and devices, think about all of it. Your phone is telling everyone where you are at all times whether the Location stuff is on or not - get in the habit of leaving it at home, so that suddenly not having it is not, in itself, a sign of anything. Your fitness wearables are mapping your entire lifestyle - it is effectively recording where you work, what time you finish, what routes you take, what stores you go to, where your friends live, where you go for recreation, where your family lives and what your relationship is like with them (where's your fitbit at Thanksgiving, Christmas etc?). Don't use fingerprint or facial recognition for anything, ever, if you can help it - apart from cataloguing your biometrics, it is much easier for a third party, police included, to use these to access your stuff than a password. It probably goes without saying, do not digitally document your menstrual cycle in any way.

Figure out what channels you can use in future to retain access to as much as possible if someone decides you shouldn't have it, or wants to know if you look for it. VPNs are a starting point, but not the end point. Do your homework on this now, before you need to know it.

Look into securing documentation that might be of use in future, this includes property, legal stuff like Power of Attorney, passports etc. (Though that doesn't necessarily mean carrying it at all times to everything, just sayin'.)

What's your ACA status? Are you currently availing of absolutely everything you're currently entitled to? If not, work on it. Government resources are always harder to take away from you once you're getting them than to deny you outright.

If there's any gay shit you like or want preserved, it would be a good time to buy/download/back it up. This includes movies, fics, books. It would also be a good time to seek out and subscribe to independent and non-digital gay media, zines, etc, and get to know your in-person scenes. You might be surprised how much stuff still exists and happens in ways that are invisible to the internet, gay and otherwise.

Don't forget that mid terms are in 2 years.

THEN

The mid terms are in 2 years.

Mid terms are 2 years away. Which means the campaigns for them start in a year, which means the work for them starts now.

All else aside, Democrat flips elsewhere in the government structure at that point would make it way, way harder for them to keep smashing everything, and there is work that you can do towards making that happen. For better and sometimes worse, the American political system is a very big and very awkward machine, and King Dipshit and his cronies cannot wave a magic wand to get their way everywhere all the time as a result. Look into your immediate local political scene, and figure out what you can do for it.

You might be getting sick of everyone talking about "building community". What this usually means in practice is firstly, seeking out local or neighboring orgs and groups that are doing what you want done, and joining them; or else, starting them yourself.

That might sound daunting, but it's not hard to start an interest group, just very annoying early on. You'll have to do a lot more printing than you might expect. You're going to have to deal with some deeply irritating people who are, nonetheless, very good at getting good shit done, and you're going to have to learn that's a You problem to deal with.

I'm involved in a couple of local groups in my country and it is WILD how much even one person can get done purely because nobody else gives enough of a shit about boring small potatoes stuff to notice or oppose it. That can be a blessing and a curse, so make it the first one.

Apart from this stuff being generally good, it will stop you losing your fucking mind. No, you're not going to community garden your way out of this one, sure, but that community garden might stop you letting the bullshit beat you into the ground before you can do something more important down the line. And it might introduce you to the girl who knows somebody with the thing that can do the shit you need around then too; it might teach you a lot of practical and psychological stuff you'll be glad of sometime.

It might even teach you how to get much more important things done in your local political infrastructure, who is on your side, who isn't, how to get the best from either - some of the most valuable shit I've learned about my little universe was picked up in the course of volunteering for a haunted house.

I am as guilty as everyone else as looking at the outlook and saying fuck it, bad guys won, but that is legitimately irrational no matter where you live. They never win, not outside of stories, because real life doesn't end like a story does. There is stuff to be done to make life more bearable than it would be otherwise, more bearable until it's possible to make it even better. There is so much stuff to get doing, instead of just feeling bad.

[strwberri-milk]

Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 15

Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama

You wake up in soft sheets, feeling significantly dryer and cleaner than you know you should. You start to sit up, startled by the feeling of an arm on your hip pulling you back in. You make to scream, fully intending to escape when you realise that it’s Boothill laying with you, shirtless. Now you want to scream for a different reason, body warm with a blush. 

“You’re finally awake. Good. Now stay in bed until I can be sure your temperature is regular. I had to wrestle you out of your clothes and then into bed.” 

You peer down and sure enough you’re wearing different clothes than the one you left in, slowly realising that he had fully stripped you down. You cover your body as though that’d change anything, Boothill’s face reddening a little as he turns his face away from you. 

“I didn’t stare or nothin’. I just didn’t want your symptoms to get worse by being left in cold clothes. I couldn’t wash you proper either - you can take a bath when you’re feelin’ better. I just got a lukewarm towel to wash the grime off your body so you could be a little more comfortable in bed.” 

His explanation speeds up at the end and you get the sense that he’s trying to justify his actions towards you. You trust him, thankfully, but that still doesn’t explain why he’s in bed with you. 

“Then this is part of my treatment?” you ask him, pointing between the two of you. 

“Body heat is a good source of heat. I’m sweatin’ my balls off but if that means your body is gettin’ warmer that’s all that matters,” he laughs.  

You shift around curiously, glad to brush up against the loose flannel of his pyjama pants. Without thinking you brush up against him closer, just chasing his warmth. He wraps his arms around your waist as you come closer to him. Your leg wraps around his, brushing back his bangs as you admire his face up close.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a beautiful bouquet sitting on your bedside table. He watches the path your eyes take, smiling tenderly at you as you admire the petals from your spot on the bed. You feel his hand rest on your hip, offering you a soft look. 

“I gotcha some flowers,” he says quietly. “To make up for the fact that I was never able to give them to you the last night of your show.” 

“You didn’t have to do all of that,” you say quietly, resting your hand on his cheek. 

“You’re the one clinging to me right now,” he says just as softly, trying not to show you how much your touch is affecting him. 

“I've told you so many times by now. It doesn’t matter what you’re trying to tell me that I don’t need to, or that you didn’t want me to save you - I mean it when I say I’m going to protect you.” 

“But why?” you continue to insist. 

“I have money on my head and you don’t really benefit from having me live with you. If anything, all I do is put you in danger.”

“And if I didn’t care about you then you would have been turned in a long time ago.”

The words hang between the two of you, your eyes widening a little. You want to believe that he means those words in a way that makes your heart flutter. He’s always been affectionate with you so there’s no reason to think of this any differently, shaking your head as you start to turn to face away from him. 

“BoothilL, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, really. You deserve better than this. Far better than someone coming in here, taking advantage of your kindness then making you risk hypothermia by running from you.”

He laughs again, shaking his head as his eyes begin to trail the lines of your face. You hold your breath as his knuckle begins to trace the path his eyes took, pausing in your movements. 

“You think I deserve better? Well…that’s a first for me.” 

His smile fades a little. 

“I dunno if I’ll ever find better. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only thing I could ever want.”

You feel the bed shift as he slowly pulls you under him. Your hands go to rest against his chest, staring up at him breathlessly as his hand slips under your neck to cradle your head. Again, his eyes do that thing where they stare at you as though you’re the most precious thing in his world and your heart tries to tell you that there’s truth in the sweet names he calls you. 

He leans down to you, noses gently brushing as his eyes drift down to your lips. 

“I’ve never really wanted anything for the last little while. Tends to happen when you lose everything you care about in an instant.”

“Boothill I -” 

“Hush pretty. Just let me think about what I’m tryna tell you. I’m not any good with words.” 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, messing with the hair on the nape of his neck. It seems to disarm him in some way, his muscles relaxing with your touch. He still seems more focused on your lips than anything else, gasping softly when your lips part wordlessly. 

A quick look of deliberation crosses his face before he presses his lips to yours. They’re rough, strong, just like him but the press of them is so gentle it makes your mind spin. You make a soft noise of surprise when he pulls back far too quickly. His touch sends chills through your body, every cell in your body tuned to him.

“I know I ain’t nothin’ but an ex-convict who shouldn’t even be dirtyin’ your hands with me but just know I’d give you everything if you just gave me the chance,” he says softly, pressing your foreheads together. 

“Boothill, what are you saying?” 

You can’t imagine Boothill being a criminal on the run, that confession somehow sidelining the very real confession of his feelings that he gave you. Somehow, he picks up on the fact that that’s what you’re referring to, sitting up a little to create distance between you two. 

“I’m not a good person,” he says softly. 

“I was a bounty hunter. A damn good one at that. Was the only way I knew to make money after an accident took out…everything.” 

You bite back the question burning on the tip of your tongue, knowing that prying too much into his past might scare him off and you’d hate to lose him now that you’ve got him so close. 

“You’re the one who deserves so much better than me. I don’t…I shouldn’t even be touching you like this.”

He starts to climb off of you. You start to panic, realising that you might actually lose him if you don’t make a move. Your arms wrap around his shoulders again, tugging him back down close enough for your breaths to intermingle.

“No…wait…I’m still cold.”

Your hands cup his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him harder. His hands come back to your body, holding your hips in place as he comes back to straddle you. The weight of his body is so comforting to you, feeling your core light up as he warms you up with the heat of his passion. 

“Wait, darlin’, shouldn’t we slow down?” he asks breathlessly, desperation in his eyes despite his words. 

“Why would we? You told me you were lying here to warm me up. I’m simply asking you for more of your medical attention,” you mutter, winding your fingers through his hair as you pull him back down for a needy kiss. 

His hands are gentle as they begin to roam your body, tentatively mapping out the contours of your shape. You’re forced to pull back from the lack of air, biting your lip as Boothill starts to trail his kisses down your lips to your chest. Your mind starts to spin as he showers you in attention, body heating up. You don’t even feel the chill of the air anymore now that you’re quickly being buried by the weight of his body. 

“I mean it darlin’,” he says again, a pleading look in his eyes despite the fact that he’s trying to stop himself. 

“You shouldn’t…we…I mean…do you really want this?”

“Am I not supposed to?” you ask quietly, teasing the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I want you. However that looks to you, I want it. Please.”

Your voice cracks on the last word, not realising until right now how badly you needed him. You think your desire pales his in comparison as you whimper for his attention, pulling him back down to kiss him again. His hands start to trail up your shirt, large palms gently ghosting over your chest as his thumbs gently brush against your nipples. It makes you gasp sharply, biting his lip in surprise from the sensation. 

“You’re so sensitive,” he laughs against your lips, looking at you darkly. 

“Are you gonna make sweet noises like that the entire time? How am I gonna hold myself from destroying you?” 

“Maybe don’t hold back then,” you sigh, arching into his chest as he continues to tease your nipples with the rough pads of his thumb.

“What if…I want you to ruin me?” 

A low moan slips past your lips as he brings his hand down to cup you. You buck against his hand, clit hitting against the heel of his palm. The teasing sensation makes you clench slightly over nothing. His finger teases against your slit, running along your pussy. 

“You can’t say somethin’ like that. It’ll really get me goin’.” 

He continues to kiss you dumb as his fingers continue to tease you. Instinctively, you spread your legs to accommodate his body. It makes it easier for him to rub against you, hips bucking against his palm as he slowly slips his fingers inside of you. The moan that you give him is music to his ears, Boothill’s heart pounding in his chest. 

His fingers move sensually against you, each stroke drawing out another sweet noise of pleasure. He’s surprisingly gentler than you expected him to be, trying to focus on the way he looks at you but inadvertently giving him the most adorable blissed out look. Nothing he conjured up in his imagination could top this and he’s doing his best to restrain the urge to just hold you in place and have his way with you. 

You can feel the insistent press of his cock against your thigh, mind running wild as you imagine what it’d feel like to have him inside of you. He shudders lowly as you move against him, writhing as he feels your wetness start to coat his fingers. Your breath comes in short gasps, Boothill nuzzling against your throat as he gently coos at you. 

“You’re close, huh? Just keep goin’ doll - let go for me, I know you want to.” 

Your nails dig lightly into his shoulders as your hips continue to buck into him, moaning his name softly as your orgasm slowly washes over you. He looks up at you from his spot against your neck, gently bringing his kisses back up to your lips as he steals the breath out of your lungs. You feel him push your shorts off of you, laughing softly. 

“I thought I needed to stay warm. What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, shuddering a little at the chill in the room against your bare skin. 

“Making you warm,” he growls before pressing a hungry kiss against your throat.  

You feel him lift your thighs to rest against his waist, pulling his pants down just enough to let his cock slap against his stomach. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, drops of precum sliding down the flushed tip as he leans over your body once again. He takes your hands in his, pinning them on the pillow over your head as he grinds lightly against you. 

“One more time. You’re okay with all of this, right?” he asks gently, slowly bringing his hand back down to guide his cock against your slit. 

You nod eagerly, bringing your free hand against his hip to press him further against you. He laughs at the action, brushing your noses together as he slides inside of you. The gasp you reward him with makes his cock twitch, watching your reaction carefully as he brings your hand back up to join the other. 

You squeeze his hands tightly as the press of him inside of you makes you melt. Just the tip feels like a little too much, eyes screwing shut in a pleasurable haze. You’re about to say something when he kisses you gently. It makes your heart burst and distracts you just enough for the next gentle rock of his hips to press him fully inside of you. He slowly bottoms out, slotting your hips together and gauging your pleasure by how tightly you squeeze his hands. 

“Oh God, Boothill,” you mutter under your breath when he reaches your pelvis, throwing your head back as he starts to slowly rock against you. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” he says dazedly, focused on the way you feel pulsing around his cock. 

“Don’t say stuff like that it’ll make me-” 

Your words are cut off as he picks up his pace, already having felt the way you clenched again at the sweet comment he gave you. You’re not ready for him to lean down against you, mouth right up against your ear as he starts to whisper sweet nothings. 

They all go straight to your core, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter around him as his cock hits all the right spots inside of you. Your eyes screw shut as you continue to whimper and moan his name, your noises drowned out by the slightly rougher pace he starts to take. 

“I’m sorry my love. I just - I can’t hold back anymore,” he grunts, letting go of your hands to bring them down to your hips. 

He holds you in place as his pace has you seeing stars, letting your nails dig down the expanse of his broad back as you feel another climax beginning to crest. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist as you call out for him one final time. The feeling of your orgasm has Boothill cumming as well, pulling out as he spills against your stomach with quick jerks of his hand to the sight of your writhing. 

You stare up at him, face warm with arousal and satisfaction as you catch your breath. He stares down at you looking equally as devoted as he presses his hand against your forehead. 

“Well if that doesn’t make you warm enough I don’t know what else to do.”

[mazzystar24]

Breaks my heart how evil they are to them. I know they're grown men and can handle it and all but they shouldn't have to! Oliver has been so respectful and put so much care into playing buck. He's always been honest about this story being about BUCK, not tommy, and that nobody should be ringing wedding bells

The fact that even the 911 account isn't posting anything because bt fans flood things with hate... and we know oliver sees this shit, he even shut down his comments and DMs. It makes me so fucking sad. We're so close to exploring this beautiful story we've been waiting for and they ruin it over someone who was hired for 4 episodes??

No same the level of care and respect that Oliver has had has been unreal

I say this as a bisexual

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a presumably straight actor handle a queer storyline with this level of respect and understanding

And unlike their fav he hasn’t done it for fame or money or popularity

He has stood up for buck and buck’s bisexuality in cases he didn’t have to

He didn’t have to correct that reporter he didn’t have to make statements in his Instagram calling out bigots he didn’t have to show all this love understanding and excitement for bucks bi arc but he did it even when it’s put him in the firing line and he’s done it with words so well crafted you can tell he fully understands his character and also what bisexuality means to his character

Ik I make jokes but I’m not saying this in a parasocial way- truth is we never know what these actors or famous people are really like- but we still have to recognise good behaviour and the way he has handled this storyline does not elicit the hate and claims of biphobia against him in the least and it’s honestly sad that he has done everything right and is still receiving this from assholes who genuinely do not care or understand what biphobia is

Just because they can’t distinct what the story has been telling them AT EVERY FUCKING TURN and how Oliver tried over and over not to get their hopes up AT EVERY FUCKING TURN and what they built up in their head sometimes with the help of a man after their money. It’s ridiculous

Like not only did he have to turn off comments and DMs he also made a response apparently and probably second guessed himself and deleted it:

And everything he said both here and the interview I stand by, good bi rep doesn’t have to be only fucking if they’re your committed partner y’all are over correcting

Also the claims of biphobia - y’all learn nothing about not assuming sexualities or making these claims huh?

Well at least they’re consistent- when threatened they pretend anything and everything is somehow homophobia cos I (a bisexual ) have been called homophobic so many times by bt fans it’s insane

Rant over cos this is super long but they better leave Oliver stark alone cos that man genuinely doesn’t deserve this shite

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM BRIDE *  assorted dialogue from the book by ali hazelwood, some lines reworked to suit a roleplay format, adjust as necessary

every second, i want you too much, and every second, i'm on the verge of wanting you more.

you're not a problem, [name]. you're a privilege.

of all the good things i've felt in my fucking life, you are the best.

you think, but you don't know.

i would take anything you chose to give me.

i would take your problems, your gifts, your moods, your passions, your jokes, your body... i would take every last thing if you chose to give it to me.

maybe you're not meant for the way i'm meant for you, but i'm going to choose you anyway, over and over and over again.

you smell like you're mine.

some nights, when i'm walking past your door, i have to whisper to myself "keep going."

what i am is an adult woman with agency and the tools to make choices. feel free to, you know, treat me accordingly.

maybe there is something devastating about the incompleteness of it.

maybe some things transcend reciprocity. maybe not everything is about having.

honey... are we rich?

you make me want to draw again.

that was a badass speech.

stop reading my file.

badass is my middle name.

i don't know you enough to make a judgment.

your jeans are cool.

there is no world, no scenario, no reality in which i'll gracefully allow you to leave me.

spank me and take away my tv privileges.

i have no friends, no hobbies, and no real purpose aside from earning enough money to pay rent in order to... exist, i guess.

stop playing with your food.

other people's approval is a powerful drug.

at times, there are decisions that feel right.

i've seen you use your phone.

you type "google" into the google bar to start a new search.

you need to be told the right things.

you're intelligent and incredibly skilled at what you do.

you're very beautiful to look at.

am i under your protection?

i won't take your freedom. not when so many others have already done so.

if they murder me, avenge me?

any preferences on how?

be creative.

please don't leave.

how the fuck do you smell like this?

you smell like you just came.

i don't know what it is about me that says "please make yourself at home on my lap," but i'll have to fix that.

i could fuck you very nicely right now. i almost did.

i was trying to check my email.

you don't have friends.

what the fuck did you just do?

do you accept?

i am the victim here.

how many people have you killed?

you went limp in my arms, and i was so fucking scared.

i need you to behave.

hope you packed a lint roller.

i fucking love your scent.

can i play with you?

i'm too tired to keep them at bay.

i've taught myself not to care. about anything.