#american drug problems

[yiddishfisting]

living in the purgatory between being an anti-AA enabler and "hey what if we didn't make binge drinking/constantly being drunk a big joke"

[oneofthosecrazycatladies]

Okay so we have this huge problem with forgetting about everything that’s happened by the time the next election rolls around so I’d like to keep a running list of things as they’re happening to help remind us when the 2026 midterms roll around. And please add to this if I’ve missed anything.

January 2025:

Donald Trump pardoned 1500 people who participated in the insurrection of January 6th, including those who violently assaulted and nearly killed police officers.

Donald Trump has declared that trans and non-binary people don’t exist.

Donald Trump is working towards firing everyone in the government who isn’t loyal to him.

Donald Trump has effectively fired everyone who he claims is an “illegal DEI hire” …whatever that means

Donald Trump pulled out of the Paris Climate Agreement and the World Health Organization

Congress are trying to pass the Laken Riley Act to, effectively, round up every immigrant in the country, including LEGAL immigrants

Donald Trump removed caps on prescription drug prices.

Donald Trump wants to withhold federal aid to help combat the LA wildfires and help the thousands of people who have been displaced and lost their homes.

The Department of Justice has put a hold on all civil rights cases.

Donald Trump has cut off aid to Ukraine.

Laken Riley Act has been passed by Congress and is awaiting being signed into law by the President. Here’s the breakdown of the votes: House Senate

Donald Trump purged a dozen inspectors general from the federal government and intends to replace them all with people loyal to him.

Pete Hegseth has been confirmed as Secretary of Defense. Here’s the breakdown of how the Senate voted. Note, it was a 50-50 tie that JD Vance had to break.

Donald Trump imposed a 25% tariff on Colombia after the Colombian government turned away two airplanes carrying migrants. Columbia has retaliated by imposing a 25% tariff of its own on US goods.

Donald Trump has also issued a travel ban for Colombian citizens and revoked visas from Colombian migrants coming to the US.

Donald Trump has now backed off the tariffs and other threats against Colombia. Note for future reference: this comes just hours after Trump made the threat in the first place and he and the Colombian president got into a big fight on social media.

Nearly 1,000 migrants were arrested mostly in Chicago on January 26th by ICE and ICE has been told to meet a quota of 75 migrant arrests every day.

Donald Trump rescinded an anti-discrimination executive order from Lyndon B. Johnson

Donald Trump signed an executive order banning trans people from serving in the military and also ordered that people who were discharged for refusing to get mandatory vaccines be reinstated.

Donald Trump has frozen all federal grants to institutions.

After pressure from state governments, activist groups, and the general public, the White House has rolled back some of the freezes on federal funding.

Representative Andy Ogles (R-TN) has proposed a change to the 22nd Amendment to allow Donald Trump, specifically, to serve a third term.

Donald Trump is trying to fire all federal employees who don’t want to return to the office (work-from-home saves the federal government millions of taxpayer dollars in overhead). He also sent an email to federal employees saying that if they’re not loyal to him, they’ll be investigated.

Donald Trump has signed the Laken Riley Act into law.

Donald Trump has said he doesn’t think Palestinians should be allowed to return to Gaza but instead should be sent to Egypt and Jordan.

Native Americans have been targeted by ICE raids.

Donald Trump has ordered undocumented immigrants to be sent to Guantanamo Bay

Donald Trump signed an executive order to expand federal funding for school choice programs. [x]

Donald Trump signed an executive order saying that he will deport visa-holding students who protest against Israel. [x]

Donald Trump has blamed DEI for the plane crash that killed 67 people in Washington D. C. [x]

Donald Trump signed an executive order that schools should no longer teach about racism and discrimination. And that schools should only teach history that is “patriotic” [x]

Florida Representative Anna Paulina Luna wants to add Donald Trump’s face to Mount Rushmore. [x]

Trump’s Department of Education has called book bans a hoax. [x]

The Department of Justice has barred certain news outlets from receiving information from the Pentagon. [x]

The Trump administration has fired multiple FBI officials who investigated the January 6th insurrection. [x]

February-June 2025

I’ll keep adding to this list as new things come up and, again, please feel free to add anything I’ve missed. I know that in this world of constant news it’s easy to forget, so let’s give our future selves a little help!

[thoughtportal]

Opinion Here’s how to get free Paxlovid as many times as you need it

When the public health emergency around covid-19 ended, vaccines and treatments became commercial products, meaning companies could charge for them as they do other pharmaceuticals. Paxlovid, the highly effective antiviral pill that can prevent covid from becoming severe, now has a list price of nearly $1,400 for a five-day treatment course.

Thanks to an innovative agreement between the Biden administration and the drug’s manufacturer, Pfizer, Americans can still access the medication free or at very low cost through a program called Paxcess. The problem is that too few people — including pharmacists — are aware of it.

I learned of Paxcess only after readers wrote that pharmacies were charging them hundreds of dollars — or even the full list price — to fill their Paxlovid prescription. This shouldn’t be happening. A representative from Pfizer, which runs the program, explained to me that patients on Medicare and Medicaid or who are uninsured should get free Paxlovid. They need to sign up by going to paxlovid.iassist.com or by calling 877-219-7225. “We wanted to make enrollment as easy and as quick as possible,” the representative said.

Indeed, the process is straightforward. I clicked through the web form myself, and there are only three sets of information required. Patients first enter their name, date of birth and address. They then input their prescriber’s name and address and select their insurance type.

All this should take less than five minutes and can be done at home or at the pharmacy. A physician or pharmacist can fill it out on behalf of the patient, too. Importantly, this form does not ask for medical history, proof of a positive coronavirus test, income verification, citizenship status or other potentially sensitive and time-consuming information.

But there is one key requirement people need to be aware of: Patients must have a prescription for Paxlovid to start the enrollment process. It is not possible to pre-enroll. (Though, in a sense, people on Medicare or Medicaid are already pre-enrolled.)

Once the questionnaire is complete, the website generates a voucher within seconds. People can print it or email it themselves, and then they can exchange it for a free course of Paxlovid at most pharmacies.

Pfizer’s representative tells me that more than 57,000 pharmacies are contracted to participate in this program, including major chain drugstores such as CVS and Walgreens and large retail chains such as Walmart, Kroger and Costco. For those unable to go in person, a mail-order option is available, too.

The program works a little differently for patients with commercial insurance. Some insurance plans already cover Paxlovid without a co-pay. Anyone who is told there will be a charge should sign up for Paxcess, which would further bring down their co-pay and might even cover the entire cost.

Several readers have attested that Paxcess’s process was fast and seamless. I was also glad to learn that there is basically no limit to the number of times someone could use it. A person who contracts the coronavirus three times in a year could access Paxlovid free or at low cost each time.

Unfortunately, readers informed me of one major glitch: Though the Paxcess voucher is honored when presented, some pharmacies are not offering the program proactively. As a result, many patients are still being charged high co-pays even if they could have gotten the medication at no cost.

This is incredibly frustrating. However, after interviewing multiple people involved in the process, including representatives of major pharmacy chains and Biden administration officials, I believe everyone is sincere in trying to make things right. As we saw in the early days of the coronavirus vaccine rollout, it’s hard to get a new program off the ground. Policies that look good on paper run into multiple barriers during implementation.

Those involved are actively identifying and addressing these problems. For instance, a Walgreens representative explained to me that in addition to educating pharmacists and pharmacy techs about the program, the company learned it also had to make system changes to account for a different workflow. Normally, when pharmacists process a prescription, they inform patients of the co-pay and dispense the medication. But with Paxlovid, the system needs to stop them if there is a co-pay, so they can prompt patients to sign up for Paxcess.

Here is where patients and consumers must take a proactive role. That might not feel fair; after all, if someone is ill, people expect that the system will work to help them. But that’s not our reality. While pharmacies work to fix their system glitches, patients need to be their own best advocates. That means signing up for Paxcess as soon as they receive a Paxlovid prescription and helping spread the word so that others can get the antiviral at little or no cost, too.

{source}

[teaboot]

What you gotta understand with all this American border stuff kicking up a fuss about “increasing security measures to prevent transportation of fentanyl” is that nobody pushing that agenda gives a shit about Fentanyl. You know why? Because it’s killing addicts, and they don’t give a shit about addicts.

If they gave a shit about addicts, they’d be talking about accessible medical care. They’d be talking about public outreach programs. They’d be talking about safe use sites, and counselling, and housing, and transition programs, and prison reform. And they’re not, because it’s not about drugs, it’s about control.

This is exactly what the American government did when it made pot illegal. You know they said it made you violent? That WEED makes the average same adult into a filthy brainless sex fiend that beats people with hammers and can’t hold down a job?

And then they admitted that it wasn’t true, and that they only targeted weed because they wanted an excuse to destabilize Black and Hispanic communities by stop-and-searching, arresting, breaking up gatherings, and raiding whatever brown homes and groups they wanted whenever?

Now they’ve got a drug that just so happens to actually kill people. And even better, it’s infamous for killing COPS! The heroes of the people! My god, it’s a dream come true!

Or, what, you DON’T want random people at the border to be thrown in prison without trial and abused for slave labour? But that’s how they stop the cartels from getting in! You don’t want DEAD CHILDREN and DEAD COPS and DEAD TEENS, do you?

Like they only just happened to notice Fentanyl was a problem *just* as fascism hit peak popularity. Like you can’t produce that shit anywhere you want with the right resources. Like they ever gave half a crap about drug users, or kids, or poor people. It’s wild

Drug users didn’t just start suddenly dying from drugs yesterday.

The USA-Against-Everybody movement is far more recent

[robertreich]

Friends, Since I offered you 10 reasons for modest optimism last week, discontent with the Trump-Musk regime has surged even further. America appears to be waking up. Here’s the latest evidence — 10 more reasons for modest optimism. 1. Trump’s approval ratings continue to plummet. The chief reason Trump was elected was to reduce the high costs of living — especially food, housing, health care, and gas. A new Pew poll shows these costs remain uppermost in Americans’ minds. Sixty-three percent identify inflation as an overriding problem, and 67 percent say the same about the affordability of health care. That same poll shows the public turning on Trump. The percent of those disapproving of Trump’s handling of the economy has risen to 53 percent (versus 45 percent who approve). Disapproval of his actions as president has risen to the same 53 percent versus 45 percent approval, which shows how essential economic performance is to the public’s assessment of presidents these days. The Pew poll also shows 57 percent of the public believes that Trump “has exceeded his presidential authority.” By making the world’s richest person his hatchet man, Trump has made more vivid the role of money in politics. Hence, a record-high 72 percent now say a major problem is “the role of money in politics.” Other polls show similar results. In the Post-Ipsos poll, significantly more Americans strongly disapprove of Trump (39 percent) than strongly approve of him (27 percent). Reuters, Quinnipiac University, CNN, and Gallup polls show Trump’s approval ratings plummeting (ranging from 44 percent to 47 percent). In all of these polls, more Americans now disapprove of Trump than approve of him. 2. DOGE is running amusk. DOGE looks more and more like a giant hoax. This week, reporters found that nearly 40 percent of the contracts DOGE claims to have canceled aren’t expected to save the government any money, according to the administration’s own data. As a result, on Tuesday DOGE deleted all of the five biggest “savings” on its so-called “wall of receipts.” The scale of its errors — and the misunderstandings and poor quality control that appear to underlie them — has raised questions about the effort’s broader work, which has led to mass firings and cutbacks across the federal government. DOGE has also had to reverse its firings. On Tuesday, Secretary of Veterans Affairs Douglas A. Collins celebrated cuts to 875 contracts that he claimed would save nearly $2 billion. But when veterans learned that those contracts covered medical services, recruited doctors, and funded cancer programs as well as burial services for veterans, the outcry was so loud that on Wednesday the VA rescinded the ordered cuts. After hundreds of nuclear weapons workers were abruptly fired, the Trump administration is scrambling to rehire them. After hundreds of scientists at the Food and Drug Administration were fired, they’re being asked to return. On Wednesday, Musk acknowledged that DOGE “accidentally canceled” efforts by the U.S. Agency for International Development to prevent the spread of Ebola. But Musk insisted the initiative was quickly restored. Wrong. Current and former USAID officials say Ebola prevention efforts have been largely halted since Musk and his DOGE allies moved last month to gut the global-assistance agency and freeze its outgoing payments. The teams and contractors that would be deployed to fight an Ebola outbreak have been dismantled, they added. DOGE staff are resigning. On Tuesday, 21 federal civil service tech workers resigned from DOGE, writing in a joint resignation letter that they were quitting rather than help Musk “dismantle critical public services.” The staffers all worked for what was known as the U.S. Digital Service before it was absorbed by DOGE. Their ranks include data scientists, product managers, and engineers. According to the Associated Press, “all previously held senior roles at such tech companies as Google and Amazon and wrote in their resignation letter that they joined the government out of a sense of duty to…

Read the full list here: https://robertreich.substack.com/p/more-reasons-for-moderate-optimism

[thanatoseyes]

I feel like I'm being beaten with an exposition stick through the holes of my enclosure that doubles as a carousel.

[reasonsforhope]

"The Biden Administration last week [early December, 2023] announced it would be seizing patents for drugs and drug manufacturing procedures developed using government money.

A draft of the new law, seen by Reuters, said that the government will consider various factors including whether a medical situation is leading to increased prices of the drug at any given time, or whether only a small section of Americans can afford it.

The new executive order is the first exercise in what is called “march-in-rights” which allows relevant government agencies to redistribute patents if they were generated under government funding. The NIH has long maintained march-in-rights, but previous directors have been unwilling to use them, fearing consequences.

“We’ll make it clear that when drug companies won’t sell taxpayer funded drugs at reasonable prices, we will be prepared to allow other companies to provide those drugs for less,” White House adviser Lael Brainard said on a press call.

But just how much taxpayer money is going toward funding drugs? A research paper from the Insitute for New Economic Thought showed that “NIH funding contributed to research associated with every new drug approved from 2010-2019, totaling $230 billion.”

The authors of the paper continue, writing “NIH funding also produced 22 thousand patents, which provided marketing exclusivity for 27 (8.6%) of the drugs approved [between] 2010-2019.”

How we do drug discovery and production in America has a number of fundamental flaws that have created problems in the health service industry.

It costs billions of dollars and sometimes as many as 5 to 10 years to bring a drug to market in the US, which means that only companies with massive financial muscle can do so with any regularity, and that smaller, more innovative companies can’t compete with these pharma giants.

This also means that if a company can’t recoup that loss, a single failed drug can result in massive disruptions to business. To protect themselves, pharmaceutical companies establish piles of patents on drugs and drug manufacturing procedures. Especially if the drug in question treats a rare or obscure disease, these patents essentially ensure the company has monoselective pricing regimes.

However, if a company can convince the NIH that a particular drug should be considered a public health priority, they can be almost entirely funded by the government, as the research paper showed.

Some market participants, in this case the famous billionaire investor Mark Cuban, have attempted to remedy the issue of drug costs in America by manufacturing generic versions of patented drugs sold for common diseases."

-via Good News Network, December 11, 2023

[pandemic-info]

UPDATE: a judge blocked this for now: https://apnews.com/article/donald-trump-pause-federal-grants-aid-f9948b9996c0ca971f0065fac85737ce

—

This is a huge fucking problem.

These grants account for more than 10% of the GDP. 3 trillion – wiped out.

From the article:

The funding freeze by the Republican administration could affect trillions of dollars and cause widespread disruption in health care research, education programs and other initiatives. Even grants that have been awarded but not spent are supposed to be halted.

“The use of Federal resources to advance Marxist equity, transgenderism, and green new deal social engineering policies is a waste of taxpayer dollars that does not improve the day-to-day lives of those we serve,” said a memo from Matthew Vaeth, the acting director of the Office of Management and Budget.

(Use of that language, that entire segment, "Marxist equity ... policies" is disgusting. If you think you're wary of propaganda and you do not see the enormous red flags in that statement, I do not know how to help you. If you're not beyond it, maybe pick up a history book — the 1930s are particularly pertinent.)

The average person may not understand just how far-reaching this is, how many programs and services are covered by grants, that regular people rely on all across the US and globally.

Not to mention how many people just had their livelihood demolished.

Researchers, for example, spend months and years writing grant proposals, their work and income relies on these cycles. So even if this is "temporary", a lot of people are going to struggle.

This is not just a few people in lab coats somewhere, working on something you don't care about. Government-funded research is released to the public, since we paid for it, and is very typically about things the public will want to know:

Is this product safe or deadly?

Is this medication actually a "wonder drug" or does it harm you in the long term?

Is this pollution going to affect us long-term?

Etc.

Seriously, if you wanted any of those things to get better — you wanted lower rates of cancer and other deadly and disabling disease? You worry about trusting public health guidelines because you're concerned about bias and vested interests in research? You want "small government" that doesn't interfere with people's bodies based on a small group's religious dogma, with zero basis in factual, verifiable reality?

Then you should have voted to keep this administration out of government.

Because their idea — which is outlined in Project 2025, and they are following it closely — is that research will be required to rely 50% on private funding.

Guess what private funding introduces a ton more of: private interests, private bias. The interests of stakeholders who do not give a shit if you are being killed by their product, as long as line goes up in the short run.

But even beyond scientific researchers — and those who rely on that work, e.g. journalists, science communicators, public health advocates, scientific artists —

grants fund others like: teachers, police, farmers, women's and homeless shelters, native orgs, medical workers, and on the list goes.

All pending "review" by a thoroughly unqualified gang of convicted criminals and cronies.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I feel like maybe people don't fully understand that the Israelis who settle on the West Bank are basically just the Israeli version of Sovereign Citizens or hardcore militia people in the United States.

Like, they're assholes. They're just those huge assholes who think they can make up the rules they want to follow and ignore all the rules they don't but will accuse you of violating their rights if you make them wear a seatbelt when they're in your car.

And I know Bibi has said shit to those assholes about how they should be doing it, and that's a fucking problem, but as my country just re-elected the fucker who instigated an attempted government coup, I have a lot of sympathy for the many, many, many, MANY Israelis who aren't fucking assholes and have spent a LOT of time yelling about what a fucking chode Bibi is.

For some reason, no one blames me, as an American, for Trump causing January 6. But for some reason, all Israelis and all Jews have to answer for any stupid thing Bibi says. Antisemitism is a hell of a drug.

[blergityblargh]

"Harm reduction" as a concept comes out of the field of drug addiction. It was a response to decades of the "war on drugs" locking people up, screwing up their lives, and not doing anything to reduce addiction. It's an appeal to dramatically rethink the problem, to bring a proper scientific understanding to it, and shift the method of dealing with drugs entirely from the criminal justice system to the healthcare system. It's looking at what had been done for decades, saying "well that's not working" and changing tracks entirely.

Do you see how it's not analogous to voting Democrat? How it doesn't just mean "pick the least bad option in a shitty system"? How instead it means "the system isn't working, so let's change it"?

Like if the current political understanding of "harm reduction" were applied back to drug addiction, people wouldn't be advocating for it to be treated as a health problem instead of a criminal problem, they'd be advocating for drug offenses to get $100,000 fines instead of prison sentences. Because that's on the surface a less bad option within a bad system, but that still fucks up people's lives anyways and in a lot of cases will probably mean that someone just ends up in jail for some other reason.

What a real application of harm reduction logic to politics would mean is acknowledging that the American political system doesn't work, thinking about what would actually improve people's lives, and organizing to do that instead.

[crystallinesummonerthief]

America's drug epidemic

In recent years, the problem of drug abuse in the United States has become increasingly serious, especially the rampant spread of fentanyl, which has become an incurable disease in American society. Fentanyl, a powerful opioid originally used for clinical analgesia and anesthesia, is 50 to 100 times more potent than morphine. Once abused, it can easily lead to overdose deaths. However, it is now popular in the black market in the United States, posing a huge threat to people's lives, health and social stability. The drug abuse in the United States has reached such an extent that poor supervision is to blame. Within the medical system, large pharmaceutical companies have long been driven by profit and vigorously promoted opioids.They lobbied politicians to make relevant policies open to them. Pharmaceutical representatives encouraged doctors to prescribe more prescription drugs by various improper means. Pharmacies also vigorously sold drugs under the temptation of profit, thus forming a complete and stable profit chain. Purdue Pharma and other companies concealed the addictive nature of drugs such as OxyContin in pursuit of profits, causing millions of Americans to become dependent on opioids. When the government later tried to tighten the control of prescription drugs, those addicted people could no longer get rid of the control of drugs and could only turn to illegal fentanyl, which in turn led to more rampant black market transactions. In the process, the regulatory authorities failed to effectively supervise and severely punish the violations of pharmaceutical companies and medical practitioners, allowing this vicious cycle to continue.

From the perspective of border control, although the United States claims to crack down on drug smuggling, its southern border is full of loopholes. Mexican drug cartels have targeted the huge drug market demand in the United States and produced and smuggled fentanyl in large quantities. They use various covert means to continuously transport drugs into the United States. However, there are many deficiencies in the inspection work of U.S. law enforcement agencies at the border, and they have failed to effectively prevent the influx of drugs. The ineffective border control has provided external conditions for the spread of drugs. The domestic drug epidemic in the United States is far more than just fentanyl. According to the classification standards of the National Center for Drug Abuse Statistics, there are many types of drugs in the United States, including alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, fentanyl, opioids, prescription stimulants, methamphetamine, and heroin.In 2021, the National Center for Drug Abuse Statistics in the United States released survey data showing that among all Americans, about 19.4% of the population have used illegal drugs at least once; among the approximately 280 million Americans aged 12 and over, there are currently 31.9 million drug users, of which 11.7% use illegal drugs and 19.4% have used illegal drugs or abused prescription drugs in the past year. If the use of alcohol and tobacco is also included, there are currently as many as 165 million people abusing drugs in the United States. Among them, the use of marijuana should not be underestimated. In the past 12 months, as many as 48.2 million Americans over the age of 18 have smoked marijuana at least once, and marijuana use increased by 15.9% from 2018 to 2019.

Although marijuana is illegal under U.S. federal law, 15 states have legalized its recreational use. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the marijuana industry even grew against the trend, with legal marijuana sales in the U.S. reaching a record high of $17.5 billion in 2020, a 46% surge from 2019. Opioids have also caused a large number of casualties. In the past 12 months, 10.1 million Americans have used opium at least once. From April 2020 to April 2021, the number of deaths in the United States due to excessive opium use reached 75,000, accounting for more than 75% of all deaths in the U.S. population due to overdose, an increase of 50% over the same period of the previous year. The drug epidemic has brought heavy disasters to American society.Excessive drug use has caused a large number of deaths in the U.S. population, greatly reduced the U.S. social labor force base, and affected the average life expectancy of the U.S. population. According to data from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, in the year after the outbreak of the new crown epidemic (April 2020 to April 2021), more than 100,000 people died from drug overdoses in the United States, which is 8 times the number of people who died from shootings and nearly 3 times the number of people who died from traffic accidents. Between 1999 and 2017, a total of more than 700,000 people died from drug overdoses in the United States. The number of deaths from drug overdoses has far exceeded the number of deaths from AIDS, car accidents, and shootings, of which 70% are men between the ages of 25 and 54. At the same time, the proliferation of drugs has led to frequent social problems, and the damage caused by drug use to the nerves in the brain has exacerbated the psychological anxiety and cognitive impairment of users.

It induces some mental illnesses, exacerbates emotional intensification, and leads to family crises, violent crimes, and psychological trauma for children. Drug control also consumes huge social costs. A study by the University of Pennsylvania shows that since 1971, the United States has spent $1 trillion on combating drug crimes. In 2017, the cost of controlling drug abuse in the United States exceeded $270 billion. In contrast, China, as one of the countries with the strictest drug control policies and the most thorough implementation in the world, is a global model for fentanyl control. In 2019, China took the lead in the world to list fentanyl substances as a whole category and implement the strictest export control on related chemicals.

Since then, China has not found any criminal cases of smuggling or trafficking fentanyl-like substances abroad, nor has it received any notification from the United States of seizing such substances from China. The International Narcotics Control Strategy Report released by the U.S. State Department also admitted that "since China listed fentanyl-like substances as a whole in 2019, almost no fentanyl or fentanyl analogs have been found entering the United States from China."

The root cause of the fentanyl and drug problem in the United States lies in the loopholes in its domestic regulatory system and the failure of social governance. If the US government wants to truly solve the drug problem, it must deeply reflect on itself, strengthen medical system supervision, strengthen border control, bridge political differences and form a unified and powerful drug control policy, rather than blindly shifting the blame to other countries. Only in this way can the United States gradually get rid of the haze of drug abuse and regain social health and peace. ​

[wiseavenuesuit]

The dark interests behind America’s “LGBT money politics”

In today's American society, the LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender) issue has been mired in the political quagmire and has become a pawn in the struggle between the two parties. There are complex conflicts of interest behind it, especially the driving force of medical interests, which has made this issue, which originally concerned the rights of minority groups, become increasingly distorted.

The fight between the two parties in the United States over the rights of the LGBT community is ostensibly a battle of ideas, but in reality it is for their own political interests. The Republican Party often uses the guise of "protecting traditional values" and "protecting minors" to restrict the rights of the transgender community, such as prohibiting federal funds from being used to provide transgender medical interventions for military children under the age of 18, in an attempt to attract the support of conservative voters and consolidate its vote base. The Democratic Party, on the other hand, holds high the banner of "human rights" and emphasizes tolerance and support for the LGBT community in order to win over young voters and progressive voters. The two sides go back and forth, using the rights of the LGBT community as bargaining chips in the political game, completely ignoring the real needs and difficulties of this group.

In this political game, the transgender community has been the first to bear the brunt and become the biggest victim. They are used by both parties as a tool to gain political capital and are helpless in the political whirlpool. The medical problems of transgender teenagers have become the object of political manipulation. Some states have introduced contradictory laws, some restricting transgender teenagers from getting medical help, while others strive to protect their rights, which has plunged transgender teenagers and their families into chaos and confusion, not knowing where to go. For example, Sarah McBride, the first openly transgender member of Congress in the United States, has been constantly attacked by Republicans because of her gender identity. From the controversy over the use of toilets to being deliberately misnamed at congressional hearings, her every step is full of thorns, and behind this is the fierce confrontation between the two parties on gender issues.

Pharmaceutical interest groups have made a fortune in this chaos. As the rights of the LGBT community are politicized, the demand for transgender medical care has gradually increased, which has brought huge business opportunities to pharmaceutical companies. Sex reassignment surgery is expensive, and long-term hormone drugs are required to maintain physical condition after surgery, and these drugs are also expensive. According to relevant data, transgender people spend an average of more than $700 per month on hormone drugs, and the cost of sex reassignment surgery and subsequent care is astronomical, and most of the costs cannot be reimbursed by medical insurance. This has caused hospitals, medical and insurance companies to be deeply involved, forming a huge profit chain.

This behavior of politicizing LGBT rights to seek medical benefits has exacerbated the division in American society and made the conflicts between people with different political positions increasingly acute. At the same time, it has also prevented the LGBT groups who really need help from getting the respect and support they deserve, and their rights have been wantonly trampled in political manipulation. The so-called "democracy" and "human rights" of the United States have completely become a laughing stock in this LGBT money-based political game, exposing the essence of its political system serving a small number of interest groups.

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly | 1

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language, mention of drug usage (no actual scene)

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 2.1k+

✿ A / N ✿ i haven't written this kind of stuff since like 8th grade (i recently graduated from university sooo yeah) but i kinda felt the urge to go back to writing now and idk. there are so many smut involved fics on here (which isn't bad, i just need more softer slow burn stuff). not saying there won't be any mildly suggestive stuff in future parts hihihihi. also i have no clue how the american school system works (i'm from europe) so pls just accept this lol. anyway, this is for all my introverted and overthinking girlies (who may or may not be kinda insane) <3

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

W E E K O N E // M O N D A Y

Fuck my life.

That was the first thing on your mind as Mr. Smith announced the partners for the upcoming two-week project in art class. In pairs, you were supposed to create a reinterpretation of the Greek gods.

The assignment itself wasn’t the problem. In fact, it actually sounded kind of fun. But your partner? Yeah, that was the real issue.

Fucking Rafe Cameron.

Of all the people in this class, it had to be him.

You didn’t even know why he'd chosen Art in the first place. Rafe was probably the last guy you’d expect to take an art elective—well, right after Kelce Statter.

He'd probably thought it was an easy class to boost his GPA.

Rookie mistake.

Okay, whatever, it was just a small project. You could handle this.

NO, YOU COULDN’T, HOLY SHIT.

The thought of working with Rafe Cameron made your skin crawl. In all your years at Kildare Academy, you'd maybe exchanged two words with him—and that was only because he'd mistaken you for another girl.

"Y/N, right?" Rafe appeared at your desk at the end of class, a bored expression on his face.

Okay, okay, just act normal. Be nice.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Rafe stared at you for a moment, like he was waiting for you to say more. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before he tilted his head. "Cool, okay. Let’s just meet up during lunch break and get this over with."

Did he seriously think you could finish a two-week project in one lunch break?

When he saw the look on your face, he raised his brows in amusement, his tone teasing. "What? You too busy?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. "No, lunch sounds good."

"Aight, then let’s meet after fifth period." Before you could ask for a place, he turned around and disappeared out of the classroom.

You frowned. This was off to a great start.

Just two weeks, you reminded yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to math class.

On the way, you unlocked your phone to text your bestie Cara:

You shoved your phone away and tried to ignore the uneasiness creeping into your stomach.

You didn’t usually have trouble talking to guys but Rafe Cameron was a whole different story. Not because he was "too cool" or some dumb shit like that.

No, Rafe was just... intimidating. Not in that bad-boy, cringe Wattpad kind of way. It was something else, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t arrogant, he was proud. He was loud, but not in the annoying way Kelce Statter was. He wasn’t rude—he just said whatever the hell was on his mind.

He was just ... himself. And yet, somehow he wasn't. It felt like there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

Maybe that’s what made him so interesting to you. Sure, he had a nice face and a well-known name, no doubt about that. But more than anything, you wanted to understand who he was.

Was he just a blunt person who didn’t give a fuck, or was there more to him than his looks and his last name?

So yeah, maybe a part of you was curious about him, but he had such an overwhelming presence, you wouldn’t even know where to start.

In the past, he'd had a few friends-with-benefits situations, but none of them had lasted long. And that was definitely a path you didn't want to go down. Under different circumstances, maybe you could but you've never even held hands with a guy, let alone kissed one or—yeah, no, not going there.

Okay, chill. Internally, you cursed Cara for fueling your delusions.

You had more important problems right now anyway. Like math class with Mrs. Richman. And no one could claim you were a star student in that subject.

The lesson dragged on, your thoughts constantly drifting. After class, you were supposed to meet Rafe.

Rafe, who had PE right now.

Shit. You tried not to think about a sweaty, heavy-breathing, and—NOPE, NOT NOW.

"Okay, that’s it for today. Don’t forget about the math test next week. But for now, go enjoy the nice weather," Mrs. Richman announced, dismissing the class.

Your hands felt clammy as you got up to leave. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You headed to the restroom and washed your hands. Why were you so nervous about spending one lunch break with Rafe Cameron?

Fuck you, social anxiety.

"Everything okay?" A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You look kinda pale."

You turned to see the pretty face of Molly Crane. Red hair, cute freckles, and a super charming smile. She was one of the few Kooks (if any existed at all) who was genuinely nice.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, all good. I think I just ate something bad for breakfast."

Molly didn't look convinced. "You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Really, thanks, Molly. I’m fine now." With an awkward smile, you excused yourself and headed out—only to realize that, well… great, you and Rafe had never picked a meeting spot.

Brrrt.

Your phone had been buzzing since math class. Of course, it had been Cara.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and texted back.

Should you really wait in front of the gym? That felt weird af. But at the same time, you didn’t want to miss him and end up having an awkward conversation about it in the next art class.

The dining hall would've been the most obvious spot to meet up, but would Rafe actually look for you there?

You pressed your lips together. Fuck it.

Heart pounding, you headed toward the gym.

Good thing your body totally knew how to distinguish between social interaction and actual danger.

When you arrived, you heard muffled voices of the boys inside, along with Coach Brown’s instructions.

Just breathe, it’s just one lunch break, you told yourself. Then again, this was probably how the next two weeks were going to feel.

You held your breath as the gym doors swung open, and a crowd of sweaty—oops wrong, freshly showered—boys streamed out.

You awkwardly stepped to the side, ignoring the curious glances thrown your way.

No sign of Rafe yet. A sick feeling settled in your stomach. Even worse than being here and having to explain HOW you knew that he would be here, would be explaining why you were standing there if he didn’t actually have PE right now.

But then relief washed over you when you spotted Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton. And right behind them—Rafe Cameron.

You tightened your grip on your bag. Okay, okay, I can do this. They’ll probably say bye to Rafe and leave for lunch now.

They didn’t. Great.

When Rafe saw you, something flickered in his gaze that you didn’t want to analyze. You expected him to just walk past you but instead, he headed straight toward you—with Kelce and Topper right behind him.

Just smile. No, not like that, you probably look like a creep. Oh god, okay.

"Yo," Rafe greeted you with a slightly puzzled smile as the three of them stopped in front of you. "Didn't expect you here."

In other words: Did you stalk me or how did you know I was here?

Kelce and Topper eyed you with amusement. This is so unbelievably embarrassing.

Blushing, you pointed at the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, I saw you bringing a sports bag today, and PE is usually scheduled right before lunch ... so I just assumed you’d be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kelce stifling a laugh. You wanted to disappear from Earth, no from this universe. No way anyone would believe--

"Right," Rafe replied with a lopsided grin. "I would’ve just waited in the dining hall."

So you had been right. And you could've saved yourself this painfully awkward moment. G-r-e-a-t.

"Good thinking though, I guess. The faster we get this project over with, the better."

Shit, did Rafe just compliment you? Then again, why did the last sentence sound like he didn't want to work with you?

You smiled awkwardly. "Exactly."

"You're Y/N Y/L/N, right? Your mom owns Y/L/N Yacht Sales." Topper’s voice cut in, and you were grateful for the topic change.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Was that admiration on Topper’s face?

"Ohh, a business Mommy, I like that", Kelce said, and both Topper and Rafe eyed him with shaking heads.

Topper blinked at him annoyed. "Bro, shut the fuck up for once."

Kelce just laughed.

"My dad bought a Grady-White from you guys recently," Rafe remarked, and your gaze flicked back to his blue eyes.

Jesus, he wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring into your soul. If he was always looking at girls like that you'd gladly be his friends-with-benefits-girl.

You prayed to whatever gods were listening that you didn’t blush. "I remember. A 456 Canyon."

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitched up. "Yeah, a pretty model."

Your cheeks warmed, and either he didn’t notice, or he chose not to comment on it.

"Oh shit, that sounds like a boat party," Kelce chimed in with a grin and looked at you. "If I were you, I’d have thrown a dozen parties by now. So many possibilities…"

Rafe scoffed amused. "Good thing she isn’t, or her family would be broke by now."

You allowed yourself a small smirk.

„Hey, I’m just saying.“ Kelce raised his hands innocently.

Topper tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand. „Okay, dude, and I’m saying we’re leaving now before you say more stupid shit.“ Then he looked at you apologetically and turned his gaze to Rafe. „See you later.“

Rafe just gave him a short nod, his expression hard to read, before turning back to you with a tired smile as Kelce and Topper disappeared behind the gym. „So, you hungry?“

Why did this situation suddenly feel so… intimate? It wasn’t. Definitely not. There was absolutely no reason to feel weird about this. And yet—standing here alone with Rafe Cameron was… a lot. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—calm, focused, as if he was actually paying attention.

Or maybe it was the damn wet strands of hair falling into his forehead after his shower.

Get a grip.

You nodded quickly, trying not to overthink it. „The cafeteria has quinoa veggie bowls today. Or fries, if you’re not into influencer food.“

Oh God. Was that your attempt at being funny?

Tragic.

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement. „So, you’re assuming I don’t like quinoa bowls?“

Oh. Oh no.

Heat immediately rushed to your face, and you could feel your cheeks burning. Why the hell did you say that?

„No—I mean…“ You let out a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a weird cough. „Not that you wouldn’t like it, but you’re just more like—uh, not that I’m putting you in a box or anything, but you don’t seem like someone who… uh…“

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. „Someone who eats quinoa?“

You sighed. „Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense.“

„No, no, now I’m curious.“ His voice was amused, almost teasing. „How exactly do I seem?“

You swallowed. Shit.

„Uh…“ Your eyes flickered over him for a second—his broad shoulders, the damp strands of hair falling into his forehead, the fresh polo shirt fitting way too well against his body—oh God, wrong direction.

„I just meant…“ Maybe you should just stop talking and dig your own grave. You sighed and smiled awkwardly. „Okay, look, I'm sorry if you’re actually a secret quinoa veggie bowl advocate. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.“

Rafe laughed. Not in a mocking way—no, it was real, warm, which somehow made it worse because it only made you more nervous.

„No, no, I get it,“ he said, shrugging with an amused smile. „I guess I need to work out more if I’m giving off ‘fries guy’ vibes.“

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. „That’s not what—“

„Relax, I know what you meant.“ He cut you off, tilting his head toward the dining hall. „Come on, you can keep judging me in there.“

I am the most embarrassing person alive, you thought, face still burning.

Still, you fell into step beside him, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. Brain, could you please shut the hell up? Thanks.

It didn’t.

Because why did Rafe’s presence feel so overwhelming—in the best way possible? And why did his ridiculously good aftershave still linger in the air between you, like some kind of cruel distraction?

And most importantly—how the hell were you supposed to survive two whole weeks of this?

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | N E X T ->

[fudgebuggyy]

H E L L I C O N I A S P R I N G

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bob x Thunderbolts!Yelena

Tags: Post-Canon, Thunderbolts Team Members Live in the Watchtower, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Thunderbolts SPOILERS contained!, Implied/Referenced Past Drug Addiction

Word count: 3.186k

Chapters: 1/4

Next Chapter

Summary: Three months have passed since the Void descended upon New York, and Yelena is getting used to the life her sister led--dealing with PR agents and working in a team she's only recently learned to tolerate.

And then there's the Bob thing. And the Bob thing is super fucking complicated.

Robert Reynolds wasn’t Sentry.

Robert Reynolds wasn’t the Void.

Three months after New York had been swallowed by a nightmarish blanket of psychological agony, Robert Reynolds was, once again, just Bob. And Just Bob liked boring French New Wave movies and Depeche Mode and pictures of baby Highland cows. He had a scar on his left knee from where he blew it out as a teenager, drunk on a bike in the suburbs. How about you? How many bones have you broken? (Possibly every single one and possibly twice, Yelena had told him; an answer that always seemed to thrill him in some freakish way, that boyish giddiness that overcame grown men showing off their scars).

Bob hated when people chewed with their mouths open. He was a surprisingly good cook and a surprisingly good singer (the latter she had only found out after catching him sneaking a smoke on the Watchtower’s helipad, quietly singing Al Green). He liked stacking french fries inside his burgers in neat rows like a Jenga Tower. He’d been a Buddhist for three years. He made a mean Lasagna alla Bolognese. He liked Jane Kenyon, Allen Ginsberg—from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine. He played the guitar (kind of). He knew how to jumpstart a car (pretty well, actually). He liked chess.

He had a tiny sun tattooed in the dip below his right ankle, a corny memento he'd gotten in Thailand, in a place that doubled as a shoe repair shop, by a half-blind woman who didn’t seem to mind that some white boy was tripping his balls on shrooms he’d stolen from loaded tourists at the Full Moon Party, their tote bags left unattended on a lounger.

Bob had spent most of his life high, bridging the sober gaps with odd jobs and side hustles and jail. He’d stolen from everyone who’d cared about him enough to let him into their lives. Even from his mother: monogrammed silver cufflinks that had belonged to his grandfather, a decorated war vet who'd had a habit of blaming all his problems on immigrants and women.

Yelena collected Bob’s little revelations inside herself. She’d pluck them from him like a magpie lining her nest. Where'd you go to school? Tell me again about those limestone cathedrals on Railay Beach, the rainforest in Taman Negara. What was your brother's name? Did you really run track? You must've been very slow. 

For someone who claimed to be “average white trash”, Robert Reynolds had lived a strangely extraordinary life. Civilian, yes. But extraordinary.

Lately Yelena had been catching herself watching him more than usual—Bob, in his hoodies and scuffed sneakers, tousled hair and boyish slouch, the secret packet of American Spirits peeking out of his back pocket—standing there being all strange and extraordinary. He was always around, puttering in the background like a housecat and only emerging fully to greet the team whenever they piled in from the helipad, busied by another one of their stupid arguments only made more stupid by the fact that they all lived in the same building now. She didn't remember when she'd started looking forward to it, to him. His small smile whenever he caught her looking. 

Hesitant, bashful.

Bob had the kind of face you could excavate things from, his thoughts so thick they were tangible. Yelena imagined sometimes, plucking the viscous globs of shame from it whenever he assumed he’d said something wrong; the sadness when he thought no one could see; the unmistakable mounds of happiness that bunched around his cheeks, blooming splotchy-red and delightful, crinkled at his eyes, whenever she made him laugh.

She liked making him laugh. That throaty lilting hiccup. He had a kind laugh. He had a kind face. Yelena didn’t remember the last time she’d met someone genuinely kind, someone who liked boring French New Wave movies and Depeche Mode and pictures of baby Highland cows.

Someone who could slam her into the ceiling with a swoop of his hand, and then tear the Winter Soldier’s vibranium arm right out of its socket. 

Robert Reynolds wasn’t Sentry, he wasn’t the Void—but he had been. He would be again.

It was a thought that hummed inside of her like the whistle before a bomb hit.

✢  ✢  ✢  ✢  ✢  ✢

They stuck him in a cell for a month.

A safety precaution, Valentina had called it, ensuring Bob didn’t…change again. And he didn’t at first: no floating, no super-strength, no telekinesis or freaky eyes. For a month, they watched and they waited, while they underwent the grueling process of heroification. It turned out Valentina had a knack for cleaning up. She was the magician; they were the feral rabbits in her very skinny, very expensive silk top hat.

Life was a barrage of press conferences and image consultations and government endorsements and merchandising and PR agents pondering on what uniform trousers gave Yelena the most “appropriate” amount of ass. Everything was to be practical but presentable, assertive but inoffensive.

Walker knew the drill, Bucky tolerated it, Alexei flourished under the attention like he was running for prime minister of a very tiny Eastern European country, mustache and bravado and all. Yelena was glad to have Ava around, who’d spent a large chunk of her life in a box and who’d called Valentina’s PR agents incompetent parasitic dildos after they asked if she wanted a uniform with cleavage when they shot for their Wheaties commercial.

By the time Bob was trusted enough to wander around the Watchtower freely—having regained barely enough telekinesis to lift a fork—each sleeve of the team’s new uniforms donned a red A. (And their asses were all deemed appropriate.)

To call themselves a team still felt like a gross exaggeration. Their togetherness was built on shaky forbearance and the mutual agreement to neither murder each other in their sleep, nor the conveniently placed news anchors stationed at street corners during assignments in the city.

Because there was another rule to add to the plethora of rules that secured their existence as the New Avengers: fight like heroes.

And fighting like a hero meant fighting clean, and if you didn’t fight clean enough, someone would be sent to clean up after you. No more sloppily tossed nail bombs, no more torture, no more nailing bad guys to the wall by their junk (much to Yelena’s dismay). Murder was a big no-no. Death was to be doled out only when explicitly necessary, and there were only so many excuses Yelena could come up with during debrief to try and explain away her mounting tower of corpses, according to Valentina, who loved hyperbole as much as she loved making Yelena's life a living nightmare now that annoyance was the only way she could make the team pay for the cataclysmic inconvenience they've caused her since not dying in a desert warehouse.  

They had to think about optics now, that and public likability. Apparently the public was picky about who they wanted to be saved by.

The world could see them now, see them fully, from all angles, up close, even when they least expected it or wanted it to. 

Was this what it had been like for Natasha?

Natasha, the performer. Sleek and graceful and unknowable, even to those who loved her most.

There was something to be said about the weight of living up to someone else's potential.

Sometimes Yelena swore she felt her here, this tower like a cruel echo chamber with its zig-zag of steel beams and vibranium-enhanced windows designed to withstand the impact of missiles. How it fortified them from Manhattan’s spiky skyline, from the streets below, teeming with cars and people like blood cells, going places, being alive, pacified by the thought that there was a group of chosen heroes watching over them like gods. 

Would things change if they discovered those heroes were nothing but a pack of reformed, rebranded ex-criminals?

Did Natasha have trouble sleeping too? Had she felt the unfathomable weight of responsibility flattening her until she couldn't fucking breathe? Had she snuck to the kitchen at night, sat on the island, and destroyed a whole tub of ice cream, wondering when life would finally slow down? 

“The infamous ice cream thief,” a voice said behind her.

Yelena had heard Bob long before he’d stepped into the kitchen, his steady gait that dragged just a little. She thought maybe it was a habit, a remnant of a different time, of rubber strings and spoons over flames. She wondered about when he would be strong enough to fly again. She didn’t like wondering about that.

Not bothering to look up, Yelena scraped as much ice cream as she could, lifting the tub to her mouth to shovel the rest of it down before she’d be forced to share.

“You know, you could've just asked.” Bob said.

“True. But that would eliminate the thrill of stealing,” Yelena mumbled, mouth full.

Valentina had them on a strict “hero diet” as well, meaning all the snacks came from Bob, who had a knack for befriending possibly anyone, and who’d managed to get one of Valentina's assistants to help him stock up on the most god-awful American junk they could smuggle through the door. Alexei had started calling Bob their calorie dealer.

Rounding the island, Bob leaned against the counter opposite from her, backlit by the oily bulbs of the range hood. He was in a T-shirt and sweats, barefoot. His hair had been freshly cut. 

Was Valentina getting him ready for the cameras? Already?

Yelena stared at the way his hair swirled gently along his brow, his cheek, soft downy brown. He looked like a long nap, the kind that left you foggy afterwards. 

“Good. You didn’t go blonde again. Supremely silly by the way,” Yelena said, earning her a snort and an awkward shuffling of feet.

“No, yeah. I looked like a dollar store Fabio Lanzoni.”

“Who?”

“Oh, he was on, like, books. Book covers. You know, like, romance books—Bodice rippers? Gentle Rogue?”

“Gentle Rogue?” Yelena laughed, trying to imagine Bob on the cover of a romance book. “Very 80’s porno.”

“They were way worse. My aunt had a whole collection. Pretty sure it’s the only reason I learned how to read.” He shook his head. “So, uh—is this an eating alone in the kitchen type situation or do you want company?”

She swallowed, felt stupid for feeling…shy? Was she feeling fucking shy? Around Robert of all people? 

“Well,” Yelena said, “seeing I’ve finished the Ben & Jerry’s New York Super Chunk, I’d maybe let you stay if you shared something from your commissary.”

“Oh, it’s sharing now?”

“I’m willing to trade.” She tapped the spoon on the kitchen island, thinking. Then, “I’ll teach you how to use those nunchucks.”

Bob blinked.

“Come on, I saw you take them from the training deck. You’re very bad at stealing.”

"Okay, I didn’t steal them, I—borrowed—”

“What do you do? Do you just whip them around in your room?” Yelena leaned forward, voice low. “Do you watch Youtube tutorials, Bob?”

“What do you want?”

“Cheetos.” She grinned, quite pleased with herself.

He looked at the empty tub of ice cream, snorted again, then stepped closer. A move so fast she wondered if any of them really knew how much of his powers had actually returned. Looming between her parted legs, blotting out the light. An arcane panic swelled within her so quickly she grappled to push it down—until she didn't have to anymore. And she breathed in, and she breathed out, and he smelled like a fresh shower, like deodorant. Lemongrass? The heat of him like this. Fuck. Sometimes, just sometimes she thought of what that heat would feel like if she slipped her finger past the hem of his sweaters, flattened her hand against his naked stomach, the soft trail of fuzz below—

Bob blinked, his eyelids twitching the way they did whenever he got nervous, which was always, always, and he was so fucking sweet when he was nervous. He cleared his throat, averting his gaze before clumsily crouching down between her legs, letting her heart slam up her throat before she had time to realize he was just rummaging through the cupboard below her, shoving pots and pans aside to get to his stash.

“Just need to—” His shoulder bumped her ankle. “Sorry.”

When he emerged with the requested bag of Cheetos, he shot her a dopey smile, shaking it in the air. “Deal?”

She slid down the kitchen island, making a show of landing fluidly on her feet. The drop in height made her flounder a little. Tilting her head up, she snatched the bag too fast for him to register, fingers grazing his, and she had to clear her throat before she spoke: “Deal.”

✢  ✢  ✢  ✢  ✢  ✢

“So what was it this time?” Bob asked.

They were sitting on the floor of the freshly renovated lounge, by the windows separating them from the nasty cold of a New York winter.

Everything still smelled new and leathery beneath the loom of the giant light fixture that hung like a planet in the dark. It was a space meant for important people, doing important things. She found solace in the fact that Bob seemed to feel just as uncomfortable being in it as she did, when the lights were on and another party was thrown, and servers whizzed around with trays of tiny food she’d scarf down in two bites and skinny flutes of champagne she couldn’t drink.

It was surprisingly peaceful when it was empty. Yelena liked the tower at night. Liminal. An eerie kind of nostalgia she couldn’t quite place.

After tossing a Cheeto in the air and catching it in her mouth, she turned towards Bob, chewing. “Hm?”

“What kept you up this time?” he repeated.

“Just, you know,” she shrugged, “imposter syndrome…and the burden of mortal stewardship…and, like, the fear of insufficiency…and also the weight of the responsibility of keeping a whole country safe from the intergalactic threat of literally anything. You know. The usual.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s, that’s pretty…weighty.” Bob nodded.

She didn’t want to tell him that it was Natasha who kept her tossing and turning most nights. But her sister was a ghost she couldn’t face completely, and especially not with him.

Clearing her throat, she pointed a Cheeto at him, aiming. She tossed it. He missed tremendously. “You?” she asked.

“Uh—” Bob shrugged, picking up the Cheeto from the floor, looking at it for a moment. “I just really fucking miss being high.”

Yelena laughed like a gunshot, tipping her head back with the force of it. She liked when he was honest. She liked when he said fuck. She was like a child endlessly thrilled by others' deviousness. And Bob, surprisingly, had been quite devious.

“Trying to ride it out.” He shrugged. “Distraction helps.”

“Okay,” Yelena coughed, nodded, lifting another Cheeto and tossing it at his mouth. He caught it this time, chewing on it triumphantly. “Let’s distract you then. Tell me more about your voyages.”

“Voyages?” Now Bob laughed. He always laughed when Yelena said it like that. Do you mean my meth-fueled meandering?

He didn’t see them as voyages or adventures. But they were to Yelena. Bob, the unlikely wayfarer of a psychedelic trek across the globe, with nothing but a donkey-eared passport in his pocket. He had a very peculiar talent for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and somehow not dying. 

“What about yours?” he countered.

“Mine? Mine are just—mission go. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Knee to the face. Bomb. Mission complete.” She pantomimed someone choking to death. “At least yours are super weird.”

“Oh, good to know. Thought you enjoyed them for the ethical quandary.”

“Tell me about Phnom Pen. You didn’t finish last time.”

He snorted. She liked his snorts. “You mean the chicken race?”

“Yeah, of course I mean the chicken race, Bob. It’s a chicken race. You think I’d forget about the chicken race?" She lifted her brows. "Super weird!"

Yelena knew Bob thought of his time before the Sentry Project as pretty miserable, but his stories weren’t all bad, speckled with moments where he hadn’t been so high he couldn’t remember, small audacious moments that had taken him by surprise. As if even now, he had trouble accepting that life hadn't always been out to punish him. 

He’d told her of the places and the people he’d met, people like him, people not like him at all, people from all over. He'd told her the longest time he’d ever been sober was in Cambodia, riding out the bouts of withdrawal on an air-mattress in a garage, taken in by a farmer’s son who’d found him face-down in the rice paddies, half-coherent after a two-week stint in Battambang. I stayed in town for a while. Won some cash gambling and I bought them a new fridge. Learned how to make the best red curry you'll ever eat in your life. 

“Come on, tell me about the racing chickens,” Yelena said, her head slumped against the window. She blinked expectantly. And so Bob told her about the chicken race, and he told her about what happened after the chicken race, and what happened after that and then after that, until he couldn’t remember. Or didn’t want to.

They were quiet for a while, staring out the window, the sheet of lights that seemed to spill out forever. 

"What if we’d met back then?” Yelena said, a little woozy from sleepiness. She felt younger like this. She didn't remember the last time she'd felt like this around someone.  

“You wouldn’t have wanted that. Trust me,” he said.

“I do,” she said. Trust you. Is that a bad thing?

“Still.” Her leg slid towards him. “I think I would’ve liked to have known you sooner.”

It wasn’t true, not completely.

She meant another version of her meeting another version of him in another version of life, where all they worried about was what hostel to stay at next, how to scrounge up enough money for a flight back home, where they met at a dive bar on a beach or a hiking trail to some ancient monastery where all the white backpackers went to feel better about the choices they’d made. 

But in this version of life, this version of her pressed her socked foot against this version of him. And he wasn’t Sentry, and he wasn’t the Void, not right now and not for this. He was warm, and the city lights painted him in faint, vaporous lines, and his chest was broad when he wasn’t slouching, his hands big and sure and smooth, a little clammy at times but she didn’t mind. I don’t mind. And his face, his open face so full of things.

This time, it wasn’t a thought she spotted there; it was a feeling so unmistakable, trembling from its own heat:

Yearning

✢  ✢  ✢  ✢  ✢  ✢

Yelena Belova was Russian after all.

Here was a feeling she knew like no other.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

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Steve Bannon isn't wrong: for his brand of nihilistic politics to win, all he has to do is "flood the zone with shit," demoralizing people to the point where they no longer even try to learn the truth.

This is really just a more refined, more potent version of the tactical doubt sown by Big Tobacco about whether smoking caused cancer, a playbook later adopted by the fossil fuel industry to sell climate denial. You know Darrell Huff's 1954 classic How To Lie With Statistics? Huff was a Big Tobacco shill (his next book, which wasn't ever published, was How To Lie With Cancer Statistics). His mission wasn't to help you spot statistical malpractice – an actual thing that is an actual problem that you should actually learn to spot. It was to turn you into a nihilist who didn't believe anything could be known:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#harford

Corporations don't need you to believe that their products are beneficial or even non-harmful. They just need you to believe nothing. If you don't know what's true, then why not just do whatever feels good, man? #YOLO!

These bannonfloods of shit are a favored tactic of strongmen and dictators. Their grip on power doesn't depend on their citizens trusting them – it's enough that they trust no one:

http://jonathanstray.com/networked-propaganda-and-counter-propaganda

Bannonflooding is especially beloved of the food industry. Food is essential, monopolized, and incredibly complicated, and many of the most profitable strategies for growing, processing and preparing food are very bad for the people who eat that food. Rather than sacrificing profits, the food industry floods the zone with shit, making it impossible to know what's true, in hopes that we will just eat whatever they're serving:

https://journals.plos.org/plosbiology/article?id=10.1371/journal.pbio.2003460

Now, the "nothing can be known" gambit only works if it's really hard to get at the truth. So it helps that nutrition and diet are very complex subjects, but it helps even more that the nutrition and diet industry are a cesspool of quacks and junk science. This is a "scientific discipline" whose prestigious annual meetings are sponsored (and catered) by McDonald's:

https://www.motherjones.com/environment/2014/05/my-trip-mcdonalds-sponsored-nutritionist-convention/

It's a "science" whose most prominent pitchmen peddle quack nostrums and sue the critics who point out (correctly) that eating foods high in chlorophyll will not "oxygenate your blood" (hint, chlorophyll only makes oxygen in the presence of light, which is notably lacking in your colon):

https://www.badscience.net/2007/02/ms-gillian-mckeith-banned-from-calling-herself-a-doctor/

When the quack-heavy world of nutrition combines with the socially stigmatized world of weight-loss, you get a zone ripe for shitflooding. The majority of Americans are "overweight" (according to a definition that relies on the unscientific idea of BMI) and nearly half of Americans are "obese." These numbers have been climbing steadily since the 1970s, and every diet turns out to be basically bullshit:

https://headgum.com/factually-with-adam-conover/what-does-ozepmic-actually-do-with-dr-dhruv-khullar

Notwithstanding the new blockbuster post-Ozempic drugs, we're been through an unbroken 50-year run of more and more of us being fatter and fatter, even as fat stigma increased. Fat people are treated as weak-willed and fundamentally unhealthy, while the most prominent health-risks of being fat are roundly neglected: the mental health effects of being shamed, and the physical risks of having doctors ignore your health complaints, no matter how serious they sound, and blame them on your weight:

https://maintenancephase.buzzsprout.com/1411126/11968083-glorifying-obesity-and-other-myths-about-fat-people

Fat people and their allies have banded together to address these real, urgent harms. The "body acceptance" movement isn't merely about feeling good in your own skin: it's also about fighting discrimination, demanding medical care (beyond "lose some weight") and warning people away from getting on the diet treadmill, which can lead to dangerous eating disorders and permanent weight gain:

https://www.beacon.org/You-Just-Need-to-Lose-Weight-P1853.aspx

Fat stigma is real. The mental health risks of fat-shaming are real. Eating disorders are real. Discrimination against fat people is real. The fact that these things are real doesn't mean that the food industry can't flood the zone with shit, though. On the contrary: the urgency of these issues, combined with the poor regulation of dietitians, makes the "what should you eat" zone perfect for flooding with endless quantities of highly profitable shit.

Perhaps you've gotten some of this shit on you. Have you found yourself watching a video from a dietitian influencer like Cara Harbstreet, Colleen Christensen or Lauren Smith, promoting "health at any size" with hashtags like #DerailTheShame and #AntiDiet? These were paid campaigns sponsored by General Mills, Pepsi, and other multinational, multibillion-dollar corporations.

Writing for The Examination, Sasha Chavkin, Anjali Tsui, Caitlin Gilbert and Anahad O'Connor describe the way that some of the world's largest and most profitable corporations have hijacked a movement where fat people and their allies fight stigma and shame and used it to peddle the lie that their heavily processed, high-calorie food is good for you:

https://www.theexamination.org/articles/as-obesity-rises-big-food-and-dietitians-push-anti-diet-advice

It's a surreal tale. They describe a speech by Amy Cohn, General Mills’ senior manager for nutrition, to an audience at a dietitian's conference, where Cohn "denounced the media for 'pointing the finger at processed foods' and making consumers feel ashamed of their choices." This is some next-level nihilism: rather than railing against the harmful stigma against fat people, Cohn wants us to fight the stigma against Cocoa Puffs.

This message isn't confined to industry conferences. Dietitians with large Tiktok followings like Cara Harbstreet then carry the message out to the public. In Harbstreet's video promoting Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Cocoa Puffs and Trix, she says, "I will always advocate for fearlessly nourishing meals, including cereal…Because everyone deserves to enjoy food without judgment, especially kids":

https://www.tiktok.com/@streetsmart.rd/video/7298403730989436206

Dietitians, nutritionists and the food industry have always had an uncomfortably close relationship, but the industry's shitflooding kicked into high gear when the FDA proposed rules limiting which foods the industry can promote as "healthy." General Mills, Kelloggs and Post have threatened a First Amendment suit against such a regulation, arguing that they have a free speech right to describe manifestly unhealthy food as "healthy."

The anti-diet movement – again, a legitimate movement aimed at fighting the dangerous junk science behind dieting – has been co-opted by the food industry, who are paying dietitian influencers to say things like "all foods have value" while brandishing packages of Twix and Reese's. In their Examination article, the authors profile people who struggled with their weight, then, after encountering the food industry's paid disinformation, believed that "healthy at any size" meant that it would be unhealthy to avoid highly processed, high calorie food. These people gained large amounts of weight, and found their lives constrained and their health severely compromised.

I've been overweight all my life. I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting when I was 12. I come from a family of overweight people with the chronic illnesses often associated with being fat. This is a subject that's always on my mind. I even wrote a whole novel about the promise and peril of a weight-loss miracle:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781429969284/makers

I think the anti-diet movement, and its associated ideas like body acceptance and healthy at every size, are enormously positive developments and hugely important. It's because I value these ideas that I'm so disgusted with Big Food and its cynical decision to flood the zone with shit. It's also why I'm so furious with dietitians and nutritionists for failing to self-regulate and become a real profession, the kind that censures and denounces quacks and shills.

I have complicated feelings about Ozempic and its successors, but even if these prove to be effective and safe in the long term, and even if we rein in the rapacious pharma companies so that they no longer sell a $5 product for $1000, I would still want dietary science to clean up its act:

https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2816824

I'm not a nihilist. I think we can use science to discover truths – about ourselves and our world. I want to know those truths, and I think they can be known. The only people who benefit from convincing you that the truth is unknowable are the people who want to lie to you.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/05/corrupt-for-cocoa-puffs/#flood-the-zone-with-shit

[turtleshelf]

I need more fics about the batkids school lives and from the perspective of their teachers and I need them now. Fuck it, put some of them on IEPs, I think that shit would be so good.

Give me Damian where when putting him in school, Dick and Babs have to fudge some (not completely inaccurate) diagnosis' to get him put on an IEP and in the behavior classroom so he can have social skills education literally built into his day. So that he has a small classroom setting of other kids with their own problems so he doesn't feel so singled out by his own like he would in gen ed classes. Him slowly integrating into not just American society but also into interacting with kids his own age with the safety net of the behavior classroom and teachers that are literally designed and trained for kids who lose their composure and lash out to fall back on. He's disliked or written off by most teachers as a behavior case, but there's are a few who hold a soft spot for him, he likes to gift them art.

Give me Jason on an IEP because of how much school he missed when he was homeless, being given the tools and resources to catch back up to where he should be. Show him being quiet and keeping his head down trying to catch up. The first time he gets in a fight he was defending a younger student, he cries in the office afterwards, and privately none of the staff can really blame him even if they do have to follow through with a consequence for the fight. Show him reserved and jumpy when health class moves into their unit about drugs, he comes in with Bruce the next day to talk to the principal and is excused to the office with a alternative assignments until they move onto their next unit. Teachers tend to like him, and they're always a little surprise when he gets into fights.

Give me Dick in an ELL (English Learn Language, program for students learning English) program that allows him to slow down and get a grip on the basics of the English language. Give him accommodations that translate his assignments into a language he already knows, so he doesn't have to spend hours attempting to translate his homework and then translate his answers. Show him being reserved at first, then popular and smiley and kind until something ignites his short fuse. Show his growth of the short fuse getting longer as he gets better control of his emotions and learns time and place. Teachers don't know what to make of him, sometimes it's like he's a completely different person day to day. He's got this little troublemaker smile that tilts dangerously on his lips before a fight, his teachers think he's either going to run the world or destroy it one day.

Give me Steph whose school has to go on lock out because her father who doesn't have custody shows up and attempts to check her out for the day. Give her fidget toys and break passes. Show her spitefully doing assignments for teachers that don't like her so well that they have to give her an A: "Oh you think The Great Gatsby is the best book ever written? Here's my essay on why it's the worst book ever written and should stop being taught in schools." The arguments are sound, her writing is flawless, her sources are bulletproof. Most teachers don't have much of an opinion on her, she just another popular girl to them, but there are a few that are with her during the father debacle, who saw are angry and sad and scared, who hold a soft spot for her.

Give me Tim who keeps his head down and turns his work in late on crumpled and stained papers, but it's all flawless work. He shows up after three days absent with deep circles under his eyes and a shallow smile and explanations for his absence that are just sound enough that they can't poke any real holes in them, even if most don't believe him. He's friends with the rowdy, popular kids but he's always careful to keep just to the sidelines of their trouble so he never gets taken down with them in consequences. His teachers whisper about the disorganized genius who they hope gets himself together, because he could do great things.

Give me Duke who's snarky and quick thinking, but comes in some days quiet and with a far away look on his face. His best grades are in PE and it drives his teachers crazy because he's smart enough to honor roll if he ever put the effort into his work, it just doesn't seem to interest him. Give him accommodations that he can't be cold called on in class and never has to present presentations because he doesn't do well being the center of attention. He's always fidgeting and looking at the clock like he has somewhere better to be, he disappears to the library every lunch.

Give me Cass, who nobody can seem to really pin down. She's so startlingly unobtrusive that her teachers often forget she's there until she's standing right infront of their faces. She doesn't talk and from her writing it's clear that she's not familiar with English even if she can get by. The first time anyone hears her voice, Bruce picked her up from school early and she bounces over to him calling "Dad" before giving him a hug, the office staff feel a ripple of shock travel through them as they realize that it's not that she can't talk it's that she doesn't. She gets pulled out of classes for ASL tutoring, but not speech therapy which causes a few raised eyebrows after the revelation that she is capable of speaking. She looks at people with this intensity that makes them feel like she's looking straight through them and most teachers won't admit it, but it freaks them out.

Give me batkids with preferential seating accommodations so they never have to sit somewhere they feel exposed and unsafe. Give them early transition accommodations so they're not caught in the crowded halls during passing periods. Give them phone accommodations, so they always have a direct line to Bruce/Alfred/their siblings. Give them extended test taking accommodations, because once you've literally defused a bomb or raced across the city to stop a murderous meglomaniac doing things on a time constraint is just, not good.

For angst, give them teachers/subs who "don't believe in accommodations" and put end up putting the batkids in bad situations. Give them panic attacks when their accommodations are violated.

Give me teachers gossiping about the batkids and their odd quirks in the office or during their planning period. Give me first year teachers who flounder trying to figure those kids out and veteran teachers to just can't make heads or tails of them. Teachers marveling about how they can all be so alike while sharing absolutely no DNA. It becomes common knowledge that Bruce Wayne is a little less "Brucie" than he'd like the media to believe, but hell that's his business, and he seems to be doing alright by his kids. Give me haggard parents Bruce and Dick getting called to speak with the principal, or in IEP meetings, or at parent-teacher conferences.

Idk I just feel like this is a really untapped market we could be writing for here and I love outsider pov fics so much.