#as for the nazi kids i just hope they grow to be ashamed of the shit they spewed as teens

[kyosaya-brainrot]

I'm genuinely still so fucking mad about fandom 12 year olds and fascist 12 year olds being the two loudest voices in the online pokemon community. if I see another social media post about how the person who wrote the scrapped weird folk tales is automatically a zoophiliac freak for writing a slightly edgier version of beauty and the beast with typhlosion or how this is proof that the feeble (((fema*e))) mind can only think about having sexual intercourse with everyone who isn't me, a katana trained true gentleman I'm gonna kill someone

[madamtrashbat]

I was chatting with a friend recently about the ways antis operate and how damaging their ideology is and I wanted to organize my thoughts about it.

It's one thing to be like "I wish minors wouldn't interact with my work because it's got adult content" (which is not something you can 100% control short of paywalling) but it's another thing ENTIRELY to be like "minors should never look at anything sexual ever and people who think it's okay that they do are secret pedophiles."

Teenagers need to have the safe space to explore their sexuality and figure their shit out and sometimes that place is fandom. Sometimes teens are trying to deal with the fantasies they have about their hot history teacher so they consume teacher/student smut in order to work it out. Sometimes they're wondering what gives them their jollies and are just reading whatever they can to wank to, including incest and rape and other "unsavory" things just so they can get it all figured out.

Sometimes awful things have happened to teens and they're using the avenue of art and fiction to take the power back from their rapist and create a narrative they control where they are working through it safely.

And antis would see all of this and want it fucking destroyed.

I was brought up in fandom by a few of the sweetest older women (adult women!) who took me under their wings and showed me that what I was thinking and writing wasn't bad or wrong or shameful and it was all perfectly sane to have these sexual feelings because nothing makes sense when you're a kid and if you want to write Frerard where Gerard is the hot teacher to Frank's catholic schoolboy in order to deal with your feelings about the sexy sub you just got at your school then that's totally fine.

These trusted adults also comforted me when I was afraid, taught me what boundaries were (please do not actually pursue the sub!), told me what were normal interactions and what I should be wary of (do NOT let the sub pursue you), and they were proud of me as I made my way into the world as a reasonably well-adjusted adult.

(Hi, Gaja, can't wait for your Christmas card!)

Sexuality is weird and messy and whatever makes our pants tighter is all individual and equally weird. Telling teenagers to not seek out porn and to not even speak to adults is just a one-way ticket to growing fucked-up people who don't know how to operate without shame and then we have a resurgence in Catholicism and NOBODY needs that.

And the way that antis rally against this, like teenagers are Pure and Sweet Babies who are being corrupted by the Awful Adults Like Me (who are secretly child diddlers obviously) is just. So fucking damaging.

Imagine trying to handle the way your hormones are firing off at everything and you're just not sure what's going on and instead of a kind adult going "hey we were all freaks at 16 and it's totally normal to be like 'this strange thing is turning me on' I promise" you have some sniveling puritan asshole going "YOU ARE ACTUALLY A SEXUAL PREDATOR IF YOU LIKE THESE THINGS AND YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED AND PUNISHED BEFORE YOU ACTUALLY HARM PEOPLE."

Like. Y'all. I have seen antis claim that people who wrote about/drew rape in order to deal with their own assaults DESERVED IT because they chose to deal with it in this way. I have seen antis tell people they hope they get raped for the fiction they create. They wish death and harm against people who make fiction. Antis literally have a body count over this shit. And yet they want me to believe they're the good guys? Bye.

Antis will argue that it's not normal for people to think about gross and icky things. I argue that Holocaust survivors had sexual fantasies about actual fucking jackboot Nazis.

No one says you have to like everything everyone else does. We have a robust tagging system for a reason. But to behave as if what YOU like is the only thing that is acceptable and everything else is Bad and Wrong is not the business. Kink Tomato exists for a reason. We are all individuals who like different things. Get with it.

Teenagers are in a precarious time of development and if you want to shame them for whatever is going on in their heads then you are the problem, not the solution. Be the kind of adult you needed as a teenager, not some shaming, screaming Puritan trying to pin scarlet A's onto everything because it's sinful. Goody Proctor is just trying to rub one out in peace.

Get with the way fandom has always operated or go away. ACAB means fancop, too.

[voulezloux]

Hello hello I am here to bother you <3

What’s your comfort movie or tv series?

And what’s a quote from a book that stuck with you?

Hope you have a great day 🫶

this is gonna expose me so hard oh my GOD

my comfort tv shows have been niche one off shows that were on netflix for the longest time before being taken off and i’ve been unable to find them since 😭😭 shows like cheapest weddings that’s from australia, frisky business about a sex toy company called lovehoney from the uk, shit like that. if they were vhs tapes, i’d wear them down so bad that’s how much i watched these shows. my comfort movie is the recording of shrek the musical 😭 it’s literally one of my favorite musicals to ever be made unironically. i have a tattoo for it and i even referenced it in my big bang fic. it was on netflix for the longest time before i was taken off in the past couple years, and i legit had a bit of a panic attack before i found out i could buy it for streaming on amazon prime. i do plan to eventually get a physical copy of the musical just in case!

i could not for the life of me remember literally any quote from any book i’ve read (it’s more of the impact of the overarching story than a quote itself for me) and it’s been so long since i’ve been able to sit down and read a book (i’m very ashamed of this too) so instead i’ll recommend books ive read in the past that i loved growing up

it’s kind of a funny story - ned vizzini

the giver - lois lowry

copper sun - sharon m. draper

endangered - eliot schrefer

flowers for algernon - daniel keyes

number the stars - lois lowry

the outsiders - s. e. hinton

paper towns - john green

the giver is honestly my all time favorite book and i fucking despise the movie adaptation of it (sorry meryl streep) i once annotated and lent my copy of it to my high school boyfriend who then broke up with me a month later and never gave it back so get fucked [redacted]

a lot of these books i read as apart of english courses throughout school, save for it’s kind of a funny story and paper towns. there’s something that john green said in a vlogbrothers video about paper towns that i cannot for the life of me find. i found a scathing review from 2012 about it’s kind of a funny story where they put a 2012 mindset on a book published in 2006. im not say that it makes up for what they said was bad about the book, but it lends itself to why there were ignorant things written in the book. ned vizzini also wrote be more chill, which is also a musical apparently, and sadly took his own life at the end of 2013. it’s kind of a funny story is written based on his stints in psychiatric wards and it hits harder considering the circumstances around his death

copper sun i read in 8th grade and it’s a very good read. i read it so fast that i finished it before i was supposed to (nerd) and my english teacher had us do an assignment where we predicted the end of the book. i asked him what do i do since i finished the book and he told me to act like i didn’t finish the book and pretend to predict the ending. i obviously did not do that and instead gave the ending away and drew a crude stick figure depicting it

flowers for algernon fucking hurts. it’s both a book that makes you feel great and then it takes it away from you because you were feeling too great. i still recommend it bc while it hurts, the story itself is still wonderful. the outsiders is a pretty standard read for middle school kids and still a great book. we read it in 7th grade and watched the movie during the last week of school. number the stars is about the holocaust and two friends with one being jewish living in a nazi occupied town. there’s one scene that has stuck with me for years since i’ve read the book where someone is killed by firing squad by nazi soldiers (i won’t spoil who) and i can’t remember if it happened on screen in the book or im confusing it with the death by firing squad scene in the film life is beautiful (which is also about the holocaust and made my entire 8th grade english class cry) which happens off screen. endangered is about a teen girl trying to save a group for bonobos during a country’s civil war. its apart of a four part series by this author called the ap quartet

sorry to ramble but thank u for asking 🥺

[maxdemianfangirl]

So...Lilith

So I did not think my responses would be reblogged by @veiledlight-blog and @ohmourningstar but I want to continue the discussion on Lilith which isn’t a reblog chain but instead a full post.

So, why not use Lilith in your practice?

Because you’re not Jewish. Lilith is Jewish. You are not. Judaism is a closed practice for a reason. You aren’t supposed to use the stuff there if you aren’t Jewish. Maybe I have to explain why it’s closed.

Anti-semitism is a big issue. It’s everywhere all around the globe. Closed practices are closed to keep the practice how it is without being colonized, and Judaism is no exception. The Jewish people are often discriminated against. I could go on a full rant on how.

My Sunday school classmates have found nazi symbols spray painted onto walls near their homes. My Jewish friends have been made fun of for being Jewish. I’ve personally been threatened with violence and possible death for being Jewish. It’s caused a long issue with my self identity and my religious beliefs which I still struggle with now. I have often not wanted to be Jewish because I felt so ashamed and bad about it. I didn’t want a Bat Mitzvah in case others found out because I knew telling my friends might bring up a side of them I had no clue about or letting others who would also harm me know about my Judaism. It worsened my mental health which was already not good. And guess what? I was a kid. Not even thirteen when this all happened. No kid should go through that. No kid should hate who they are and what they believe because of others and their hate.

Judaism at its root is meant to protect its people from those who want to harm those who practice it. The whole book of Exodus was about escaping the Pharaoh who enslaved us and finding a new home. We have countless stories about it (the Prague Golem is an amazing one). We have the Holocaust. We’ve been taught by the world to keep closed to ourselves. Its figures like Lilith are not for those who are not Jewish. 

Now, Lilith has become so popular because her whole concept has been changed from what it once was. Lilith was a high figure, not to be messed with and a literal demon who could and would harm babies and their mothers. Now she’s all succubus queen empowering women. While I am very happy that women, especially young witches, can feel empowered, there’s many, many ladies in other pantheons who are more appropriate for goyim (those who are not Jewish). Honestly, if i were a non-Jewish witch I would love Eve and even as a Jewish witch I still love her. Like your free will? Thank her. Stay away from the lady who was written to eat babies. 

Also, young witches are also a big problem when it comes to this. You're naive. Hell I’m still young I’m definitely still naive. But I’m learning. You should be too, learning what you shouldn’t use in your practice because it’s appropriation. 

And I mentioned before in my responses that some people have deities and entities come to them, not the other way around. I’ve dealt with this situation with another involving Lilith as said deity/entity before. Let’s have a hypothetical situation. You see Loki in your dreams. You’re not a Norse Pagan. He talks to you. When you wake up you feel this connection between you and him. You research. You find out about Norse Paganism and since you feel so connected to one of its deities, you study more of it and eventually become a Norse Pagan. People can get involved in certain religions or practices because of such experiences. Why can’t the same be done with Liltih and Judaism?

Now, Norse Paganism is an open practice. With closed ones it’s different, especially with African and Native American practices. But I say the underlying concepts and ideas still apply in concerns to Judaism. You’re free to join us. If you actually really feel connected to her, then I bet you 9/10 you’ll feel connected to Judaism and its concepts as well and end up converting. It’s a long process and yes, it’ll require a lot of work. But if you really want it you’ll do it. Getting into studying magic in itself is a massive undertaking. If you want it, you can do it. And if you want to become Jewish you can do it if you really want it.

I know many young witches who want to work with Lilith will say “but I’m too young I can’t convert!” Well guess what? If you really want it you can sit down and wait and when you’re 18 you can convert. Study Judaism in the meanwhile. Help out your local Jewish community. Be an ally to us. We’ll greatly appreciate it and it’ll help with the conversion. If it’s too much of a hassle to wait, hopefully you’ll learn you made a mistake as your young naive self and have more wisdom for your practice, because we all make mistakes and we all should learn from them. And definitely still stand with us as an ally against anti-semitism! And if you still work with and worship her after all that without the conversion, then you’re just an approperiating asshole. Why she would want to work with you is beyond me. Even being “against anti-semitism” is a futile effort because clearly no you’re not. 

Also, please do not work with Lilith while you’re converting. Wait till after. You made it so far doing it all right only to ruin it by doing that. Plus by doing so you’re honestly just showing 1) you only converted for Lilith 2) you don’t actually respect the rest of Judaism and 3) Honestly you’re just an asshole trying to cover your tracks.

For any witches who do fully convert or those thinking on it: you can still be a witch and do pagan things as a Jew! Look at me. Look at my mom. Look at @will-o-the-witch. Nobody will judge you for it (you’ll find we’re a very open-minded and accepting community). Even rabbis will be open to it and might give you resources! So don’t be scared. We’ll welcome you.

One big thing, don’t just do nothing when you are officially Jewish. Attend services at a synagogue. Help out at your local JCC. Celebrate the holidays. Don’t just turn Jewish because some kid on Tumblr told you to if you wanted to work with Lilith. If you’re just going to ignore all of it when it’s done, then why even bother? It makes you another asshole just covering their tracks. If this is what you’re gonna do, don’t do it.

Also, please note my whole ramble on conversion is meant for people who genuinely feel a powerful connection to Lilith which should extend to the whole of Judaism. Don’t convert or even consider it if you’re only vaguely interested in her and the religion. Research is fine but active practice is a whole new bucket of worms. You’ll waste your time and everyone else’s time with a conversion if you’re not fully involved and into it. Attend or watch (with the pandemic and that) a service or two and see how you think of it. Research research research as well and decide after you’ve done the two. It’ll likely be a no at the end if you are not genuinely interested. Or you may end up genuinely interested in Judaism by doing those things. Just always make sure you’re 100% confident in your choice for this if you’re going to actually convert. It’s a big move and not one to be taken lightly. 

So, TLDR for the whole conversion thing: you either end up realizing your mistake and growing as a person and witch, you reveal yourself as a true asshole, or you end up in a community you’re happy in. Think hard and long. Question your interest and connections. Don’t not get involved in Jewish things if you do convert.

I didn’t expect this to end up mostly about conversion at the end but oh well. I hope this helps or provides some insight. For any questions please just dm or send me an ask. Any anti-semitism or hate will be ignored because I don’t have time for your shit.

[prosorinos]

I love the earth but I don't really wanna save it (what?)

Everything is sexist, homophobic, or it's racist

When life gives us lemons we're supposed to wanna change it

But my generation rather take some pills and escape it

Say that I'm transphobic if you wanna but one day I'll be a father

And I really hope my son don't grow up to be my daughter

I ain't tryna hurt your feelings, skin should be a little thicker

That's the problem, being honest got 'em triggered (triggered)

The kids are getting weaker 'cause they're sheltered by society

Pumpkin spice Ativan for seasonal anxiety (woo)

Wokeness has become a way to bully non-violently

And cancel everyone without improving on the life we lead

Without the white, there's no black, without the straight, there's no gay

Without the men, there's no women, without the night, there's no day

Without the idiots, we couldn't laugh at them when they fall

So maybe we need them after all

Ain't nobody dumber than y'all

Ain't nobody dumber than y'all (ay yo)

I guess you love to be wrong

Or you don't have the guts or the balls (ay yo)

Dumb, dumb dumb, dumb, dumb dumb

Dumb, dumb dumb, dee dee dumb dumb dumb

Dumb, dumb dumb, dumb, dumb dumb

Dumb, dumb dumb, dee dee dumb dumb

I love the earth but I don't really wanna save it

Everyone's obsessed with making stupid people famous (yo)

If a white boy raps then it's called appropriation

But Beyoncé does her hair blonde and people say she slayed it (weird)

Everybody's outraged, everybody's mad (big mad)

Our solutions to the issues don't make no sense

If stairs are the problem, we build wheelchair ramps (uh-huh)

We don't cancel feet or persecute the people with legs

The feminists who started their movement would be ashamed of so many things

They fought so you could vote not show your butthole on OnlyFans

I'm not a bad person 'cause you don't like what I say (yeah)

Call me homophobic just because I think straight (ew)

I love people even though we disagree (disagree)

I wish we could get WiFi signals from a tree (from a tree)

Then everyone would plant them and we'd probably save the planet for free

Too bad we only need 'em to breathe (hm, that's true)

Ain't nobody dumber than y'all

Ain't nobody dumber than y'all (ay yo)

I guess you love to be wrong

Or you don't have the guts or the balls (ay yo)

Dumb, dumb dumb, dumb, dumb dumb

Dumb, dumb dumb, dee dee dumb dumb dumb

Dumb, dumb dumb, dumb, dumb dumb

Dumb, dumb dumb, dee dee dumb dumb

I love the earth but I don't really wanna save it

Classifying people by their sex and race degrades them

But we still say straight white males are the worst of our population

Guess the labels are okay if they're Caucasian (that's right)

Our kids are living in their rooms, I swear we barely ever see 'em

Go outside sometime, there's fresh air you could be breathing

Put your phones down, play sports, do something illegal

Go and meet your families, they're probably nice people

These days you're a Nazi if you don't hate the police

They say that white folks think all Asian people are Chinese (hm)

I'm sorry, what kind of white people you mean? (Uh)

English, Scottish, German, Swedish, or Greek?

And Black Lives Matter is problematic (why?)

It excludes anyone without the pigment, it's automatic (okay)

I understand all the reasons it happened

But including all humans is the actual answer (oh no)

Ain't nobody dumber than y'all

Ain't nobody dumber than y'all (ay yo)

I guess you love to be wrong

Or you don't have the guts or the balls (ay yo)

Dumb, dumb dumb, dumb, dumb dumb

Dumb, dumb dumb, dee dee dumb dumb dumb

Dumb, dumb dumb, dumb, dumb dumb

Dumb, dumb dumb, dee dee dumb dumb

[shreddedparchment]

Heavy is the Hand You’re Dealt

Part 3

09/04/2019

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Thor x Reader         Word Count: 9,980

Prompt: Imposter - Bearson

Masterpost          Warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex, canon level violence

A/N: This is the chapter where canon goes out the window. This is again, for @youngmoneymilla ‘s 5K challenge. It was supposed to be two parts. Now it’s gonna be four. I don’t know why I even try to limit myself. I suck at short stories. Anyway, I hope you like this one. More fun parts in this one I hope. Let me know what you liked. If you reblog, thanks for reblogging! xoxo

“Where is she?” Sam asks, eyes scouring the digital map for your unique frequency.

“Somewhere in Germany.” Bucky points, showing Sam the unique pattern of captures.

“Man, that was our mission.” Sam complains.

“Hey, if it keeps us home, I’m not going to complain.” Bucky counters.

“She should have just taken the shield then.” Sam continues to gripe.

Bucky looks down at the base of the map, thinks for a second, then with the knowledge of being broken, the forever etched reality that sometimes there is no coming back from certain types of heartbreak, he shakes his head.

“She’s not ready for it yet.” He tells Sam and they look at each other, both reliving the exact same moment for what must feel like the hundredth time.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky looks out towards the water, the ghost of his sad yet grateful smirk falling away as he spots the old man on the bench.

“Sam.” He calls out, knowing somehow that it’s him.

Sam approaches and he smiles. Strange to see someone that only moments ago looked young look aged, a long and happy—by the looks of that smile on his face—life lived.

“Cap?”

“Not for a long time.” Old Steve tells Sam and slowly Sam sits.

“How-?”

“I stayed.”

Sam’s smile suddenly falls away and he looks back towards the house and Steve knows what he’s thinking.

“She didn’t take it well.” He says sadly. “I’d forgotten how bad it was…”

“You heard?” Bucky’s made his way over, stopping at the other end of the bench. “I didn’t think you’d go through with it.”

“I found my home.” Steve tells them and they exchange a quick glance.

“Here.” Steve reaches over by his right foot and brings up what must be his shield wrapped in a leather protective sleeve. “This is for her. She knows how to use it. I taught her. And she’s-”

“She’s not going to take it, Steve.” Bucky shakes his head and old Steve turns to look at him, his withered face looking suddenly tired and sad. “Not now.”

“Someday she will.” Steve assures him.

“You don’t know that.” Bucky argues.

“It’s hers.” Steve insists. “She’s the right choice.”

“Steve,” Sam begins. “I don’t know if you really grasp what you did here.”

“You take it. You’re a good man, Sam. I trust you. You’ll take good care of it.” He tells Sam, placing the shield in his hands. “Until she’s ready.”

“She might never be ready, Steve.” Bucky counters.

“She will be. I know her. She…” Steve sighs, it almost seems taxing on his entire body to breathe in and out.

“What do you know?” Bucky suddenly says, suspicious.

“Thor will leave.” Steve says, throwing them off.

What does the God have to do with anything?

“It’s important that you give him a reason to come back. Two years.” Steve holds up two wrinkled fingers and looks at Bucky and Sam in turn. “In two years, don’t forget to bring him back.”

“Why?” Bucky asks again, sounding a little more upset.

Steve stares out at the water, and with the last rays of the sun dancing along sending golden flecks of glitter across his face, he shakes his head. Disappointed.

“I messed up. Just once.” He confesses.

“Steve…” Bucky frowns more deeply, growing angrier by the second.

“I came back.” Steve explains, voice weak and feeble. “I mean, I will come back. To her. Because I regret it. Peggy and I have trouble…we were trying to have kids, but Peggy wouldn’t get pregnant so, I got very low.”

Bucky looks away from his friend, turns towards the water then leans his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands, sliding them up until he’s pulling slightly at his own hair.

“You’re gonna come back?” Sam asks, shocked too.

“I stayed—will stay for only a week, and it’s very important that Thor is here.”

“Why would you come back?” Bucky demands, lamenting at the thought as he looks at Steve then over at the house and back.

“Peggy is pregnant when I get back home. It is important that I go back.” Steve explains and Bucky scoffs, shaking his head as he gets to his feet.

“So, you’re not worried about what your coming here does to Y/N but rather the fact that Peggy is already pregnant, and you need to go back for her.” He’s so upset, and Steve can see that.

There’s nothing that Steve can say that will explain the complications of his new life. His chosen life. He can’t regret coming back to you, even if it was too late. He does regret having you as an option again because just a few more encounters alone where he might have penetrated that outer shell, then maybe you would have taken him back and maybe he would have stayed and maybe he wouldn't get to have lived the life he had with Peggy, but he would have had you.

You, who’d torn him up inside in ways that he hadn’t known were possible. Yes, he loved…loves Peggy but she couldn’t touch what you had. Two separate loves. Both deep. Both had seen him through a war, but yours had given him so much more.

Your love had seen him through the age of no hope. Peggy’s had been another hopeful light amongst the many in the fight against Hydra and the Nazis. Everything had seemed possible back then. Not easy but attainable.

You had put him back together when there were no possibilities left. When all hope had faded and all the two of you had was a broken, shattered, emptier universe.

He’d had you. And he had been damn lucky.

He knows what he did…he knows that he should pay for it. For how he hurt you.

“Can I see her?” He suddenly asks, looking back towards the house with such a yearning. His old heart, having lost Peggy, wishes for you. Wants you. But he’s old now. He’s got nothing for you.

“What?” Bucky asks, incredulous.

He doesn’t know if it’s luck or maybe fate, but as Steve looks back at the house again, the front door opens, and you descend the stairs by the porch looking just as pretty as ever. Young and beautiful. Your eyes are swollen and red, tear stains on your perfect cheeks. Your ever so kissable lips are pale and bitten through. Chapped but probably just as soft as Steve remembers…

You hadn’t let him kiss you that last time. He’s ashamed he had even tried.

You breathe in as you walk down, breath shaking as if you’re still sobbing it all out.

You have your shoulders slumped, drawn down and in against the world. The despair in your pretty eyes tears Steve’s heart to shreds.

His own pain, the memory of leaving you, is a ghost in comparison to the fresh cut you must feel. It’s been years for him. A lifetime. For you, only what? An hour? Two tops?

Despite the way he’d ripped out your heart, he can still see your softness. Those gentle, sweet hands that had coaxed him out of his own dark pit of despair when the Snap and its consequences had weighed heavy on his own shoulders. Even though you’re not smiling, he can actually picture it. Your honey smile so warming and soothing. Your laugh…that laugh…that soothing chuckle that had comforted him over and over.

Like this, even though you’re sad, he can still picture you eased beneath him, so open and his. All his.

His old heart feels the sting of jealousy as he remembers what’s to come.

It’s a strange and overpowering sensation because he hasn’t felt jealousy with Peggy in years. So many years. She'd been completely his and yes, he’s grateful…but you’re right there…and he gave you up.

Voluntarily. Idiot.

He gets to his feet, surprisingly spry for his age, and turns to look at you as you walk down the slope towards the driveway, keys in hand. His old car. Your car now.

You’re wiping your cheek with the heel of your palm, sniffling as you come close and as Bucky and Sam both rise beside him, Steve watches them draw your eye.

For a split second you almost smile. He recognizes the twitch of your cheek muscles but then your eyes fall on him and you halt.

It takes you a moment, but you recognize him. You see through the aged exterior and your lip trembles.

Steve can’t stand it.

It had been a bad memory for him. Something that crept into his dreams and gave him nightmares. The day he left one future behind to build another in the past. It had all been within reach and he’d left it behind.

Yet, here you are, feeling it all for the first time and it’s all made fresh for him. He wants to apologize and give you the world but he’s…he’s lived his life. Without you.

And that must be what you’re thinking too because your lip tremble goes away and he can see this truth, the truth that he’s lived his life in full without you having kids and getting married and finally giving up the responsibility of saving the world for someone who isn’t you.

What you'd once asked him for, “Let’s just go, Steve. We'll move out to the country like Tony and Pepper and we can start a real life together. We’ll have each other and if…if it happens then, maybe kids?”

Steve has been almost fast asleep and he'd hugged you close in his arms and dreamt of that future but he never mentioned it again and neither did you. He knows now that you never stopped wanting it. And Steve gave that to someone else.

All of that passes through you and he sees the hardness sets in.

This hardness he’s seen before—or rather the one he will see in two year’s time. This is the moment that sets it in place and he only just now realizes it.

“No.” He says, pleading with you to keep your heart open because he doesn’t want to do that to you.

He’s already done so much…not this too.

You look at your keys and because it’s his car, you drop them and head for the road to walk home.

You’re still so obstinate and if Steve wasn’t so worried about the pain you’re in, he’d be smiling because he knows, that’s my girl.

“Bucky-?” Steve begins, turning to his best friend.

“I’ll go give her a ride.” He tells Sam then looks at Steve. “You should stay away for now. Go home.”

“Bucky…” Steve repeats, feeling a twinge of sadness that even his best friend is upset with him.

Bucky doesn’t respond right away. He walks a few steps then stops and breathes out a huff of air. No matter how upset he may be with Steve for leaving you and then having the audacity to come back because things aren’t going as smoothly as he’d hoped, it’s Steve.

“Make sure you send me your address, Steve. We’ll catch up.” Bucky softens, nodding at his own idea. “I wanna hear every last bit of it.”

Steve smiles.

~~~~~~~~~~

With Fury back, you were able to relinquish your duties and with his permission, signed back onto the new S.T.R.I.K.E. team. But then you went rogue and left them after only a month and you’ve been on the move ever since.

You still receive the missions, Fury isn’t opposed to you getting them despite Sam and Bucky’s pleading. You always go alone. Dangerous. Reckless.

You don’t live in the tower or, hell, they don’t know where you have your figurative hero cape. They only know that you switch on your tracker when you’re on mission and back off when you’re done.

Bucky disapproves though he secretly hopes that you’ve found yourself someone.

Sam is annoyed about it by now. Especially since you keep intercepting their assigned missions and don’t even have the courtesy to invite them to go with you.

“She’s going to get herself killed.” Bucky sighs, quietly. Frowning, he looks at the date and leans back in his seat.

“What is it?” Sam asks, knowing that look on Bucky’s face well.

“It’s two years in a month.” Bucky points out, gesturing at the date with his chin as he crosses his arms over the tight red t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Yeah, so?” Sam asks, then he remembers. “Oh, right.”

“Do you have a way to-?” Bucky begins to ask, but Sam cuts him off.

“One God of Thunder, coming right up.” With that he leaves the room to contact Thor and get him back on Earth.

You’re pulled back in. To the newly renovated tower. Where he’d once been. Ages ago. When friendship was all you had.

He’s on that couch where the two of you sat and watched a movie. He’s on the counter where he leaned in close and rubbed shoulders with you and made you fall for him even more. He’s by the sink where the two of you washed dishes and splashed each other in a rare moment of sweet playfulness because Steve had always been worried. Always thinking of everyone else.

He’s at the meeting table, staring at you though back then you didn’t know what it meant. He’d wanted you, just as much as you’d wanted him. Picturing him pounding into you right up against that exact same spot and now you know he’d been imagining the exact same thing.

This place is full of him and his voice, all those faded memories of yearning and friendship, forever trapped in this space where the Avengers have returned. A haven for them. For you, hell.

You hate being here.

You shift in your seat, staring across the way at Thor who’s dozing with his head thrown back, mouth fallen open. He’s snoring lightly, his tangle of blonde hair less dirty, wavier, and still long. His beard is also left long but he seems to have adopted the braided beard permanently.

He’s still chubby. No…that’s not the word. He’s thicker. His stomach still rounded but a little less than before. He looks tighter. Strong, like a rhino.

He’s been here longer than you have and has changed into a pair of jeans and a plain olive colored t-shirt. It looks old, fits him loose around the neck exposing bronzed peach skin.

You tut, turning to look for Bucky or Sam. What did they want?

Thor snores loudly and sits up, startled.

“One more drink.” He spouts drowsily, before his eyes fall on you.

You watch him with a slightly furrowed brow, arms crossed over your chest as you assess him neither disapproving nor happy to see him. You’re just here.

“Oh, sorry. I guess I dozed off.” Thor sits up straighter, reaching up to rub at his eyes. “Haven’t been getting enough sleep.”

“Out drinking?” You guess.

“No.” Thor smiles, shaking his head, then stops and think. “Well, actually yes. I was fishing for information. There’s a man or…he might not be a man but he’s going from planet to planet selling what he claims are infinity stones. Fakes I think but…”

Your heart beats a little faster, “Better safe than sorry.”

“Yes.” He agrees, then he shifts and smiles at you, warmly. Like he’s happy to see you. “How have you been since…since…that day?”

“Busy.”

“What have you been doing, if you don’t mind my asking?” He probes and then gets up and moves around the coffee table to sit beside you.

You shift in your seat to face him a little better, drawing your leg up—or you begin to before you gasp near silently and lower you leg back down slowly.

“What?” Thor asks, concern immediately etched on his face.

Damn, you thought you’d hidden that reaction well.

“Nothing.”

“Let me see.”

“No, Thor. I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. Let me see it.” He orders, sounding more and more like the God of Thunder that you remember.

“I said I’m fine.” You gripe.

“And I said you’re not. Let me see your damn leg or I’ll go and get Dr. Cho and have her sort you out.” His threat is real, and you can see it in those sparkling eyes, one amber, one stunning blue, that he means it.

You resent him for a moment. You don’t need his help. Or anyone else’s. You don’t need anyone.

Reluctantly you pick up your right leg and turn towards him. You hesitate.

Thor gestures for you to lay it on his lap and with your heart full of trepidation, you do it.

“What did you do to it?” He asks, feeling it through your old and in great need of repair and a wash uniform.

“I hit it.”

He looks at you, eyebrows raised.

“On some goon’s face.” You explain.

You half expect him to fuss but instead, Thor surprises you. He huffs a laugh, the concern on his face still there but there’s also amusement. A sparkling eagerness behind his eyes.

“I hope you hit your leg hard on this goon’s face.” He says, feeling just below your knee.

“I shattered his jaw, so yeah. But he got me with a metal pipe he was holding before I did.” Guess, there’s no reason to hide the truth from Thor. He seems relaxed enough that you don’t feel like you’ll be chastised. You reach down and take hold of his hand. Sliding it up along your knee to mid-thigh. “Not there, here.”

“So, the pipe is what hurt your leg?” Thor realizes, eyes trained on your thigh as he gives it a gentle squeeze.

You gasp, wincing, breath stolen as the pain shoots through you.

“You should not be walking around on it.” He tells you, concerned, not chastising.

“I’m okay.” You assure him.

“Only you know your body’s limits.” He nods, looking back up at you. “But it would be better if you stayed off of it.”

You frown at him, irritated instantly. “And I said, I’m fine.”

“You clearly aren’t.” Thor argues.

Funny thing is though, even though he’s fighting you on this, it doesn’t sound like he’s judging you or…feeling sorry for you. Like Bucky sounds. He’s not getting mad, like Sam does.

You take your leg off his lap and limp around behind the old bar that has since been converted into a small kitchen, to the coffee maker.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tell him.

“Yes, I do. I have fought many battles. Injured myself countless times. Trust me.” He says with a smile in his voice. He’s having fun arguing with you.

Jerk.

“I don’t know if that’s something you should really be bragging about, God of Thunder.” You tease, still bitter.

Then you growl.

“What?” He asks with a chuckle, amused at your irritation.

Why does Thor leave his shit laying around?

“Thor…” You sigh, grab the handle, then limp back over towards him. “I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t leave your stupid hammer sitting around.”

You hold it out for him, and he stares at the large metal head with slightly disbelieving eyes. He follows the butt of the hammer to the handle then his eyes take in your fingers deftly wrapped around the black leather handle.

As he stares at it, you look at it again too. This hammer…could it be? “Is this the one that St…that he used?”

You faintly remember him carrying it around at the funeral, keeping track of it.

“No.” Thor says dully, still dumbfounded. “This one is new. I-I had it remade.”

He gets to his feet, towering over you as he continues to stare down at the weapon.

You give it a shake. “Oh, good. Take it. I want coffee and it’s in my way.”

“How-?” He asks, stunned but he takes the handle and relieves you of its weight.

You move back into the kitchen—no limp—and set to making yourself a cup of coffee.

“Do you want some?” You ask him and when he doesn’t answer you turn to look at him, and squeak to find him right behind you.

Face to chest. You follow his sturdy build up to his face, and blink. He’s all lit up with excitement. The smell of ozone permeates the room, but it’s sweetened by the smell of a coming storm and that ever floral scent that seems to follow him around.

It smells good. He smells good. And his heat, he’s standing so close, it feels right and like you haven’t been this close to anyone in years. Your mind is assaulted with scandalous images because this also reminds you that you haven’t gotten any in just as much time.

“What?” You ask, startled by him and your own thoughts, the counter digging into your lower back.

“I want to train you.” He states, so excited he’s almost vibrating with it.

“What?” You ask confused, thoroughly distracted from the comfort that his closeness is bringing you. “I don’t need any more training.”

Stupid man.

“Do you not know what you just did?” You shake your head. “You lifted my hammer.”

“Yeah, so?” You wonder, looking down at the hammer still held in his right hand.

“Only the worthy can lift my hammer.”

“Worthy? Worthy of what?” You ask confused.

“I was able to re-enchant the hammer and keep what made the first special and you are worthy, little dove. I cannot believe it, but you are worthy.” He assures you. “I mean, not that you being worthy is anything to be surprised at. You have always been sweet and kind and giving. You’re the only one who still believed me in me when I myself didn’t feel like I was worth-”

His words fade into a deafening hum, meaningless noise as you come apart.

Something about those particular words and the way that he’s gazing down at you and the closeness of his large body combine to fill your chest with an ache that you’ve been desperately trying to run from.

It catches up with you here in the tower where he is everywhere, with Thor pressing down on you, smiling at you like he’d smiled at you at one time. Thor tells you that you’re worthy when everything that happened two years ago tells you that you are evidently unworthy of many things.

His love for one. You hadn’t been worthy of his future and so he’d left you and here’s another man, pretending that you’re worthy because it probably suits the time and he’s lying too because he wants to use you like the other one did. He’ll leave you too and break you more and you can’t handle that again.

He’ll use you until he’s done and then be gone.

Thor’s hand slide down along your right bicep, along your elbow and forearm until his hand is able to grip yours.

The heat of his touch snaps you back from your grief and you rip your hand out of his grip.

“Don’t touch me.” You snap. “Don’t lie to me.”

“What?” Thor’s confused puppy face almost moves you, but you know it isn’t real. Everything he says is just a trick. Another lie. They all lie.

“I’m not worthy.” You spit.

“Little dove…” He begins and makes to grab hold again but you slide out from between him and the counter.

“I have a mission to get to and…just stay away from me, Thor.” You back away, heart absolutely clenching with agony. “Stay away.”

Okay, so you gave in. Mostly because Bucky kept begging you to just do the training.

“Think about it, sugar. It’ll be a whole new weapon for you to use on mission. And isn’t that what matters most?”

He knew what buttons to push to get you to agree. You’d be lying if you said that having Mjolnir 2.0 with you on mission wouldn’t be useful. So, you knocked on Thor’s bedroom door and with a heavy sigh you gave in.

“Fine.” You’d grumbled. “Train me.”

Thor’s smile had been blinding.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hit me again, little dove. We will not stop until you can channel the lightning at full strength.” He urges you, staring at you from across a grassy field. Small yellow flowers shift in the wind that whips your hair.

“Did I ask to stop?” You retort, hating the way he seems to know you’re a little tired.

Thor’s pulled his hair up into a top knot that makes him look disgustingly delicious and you hate yourself for even thinking it because you shouldn’t, and you’ve worked so hard to make all of this okay. You’ve strived to be good alone.

You are good alone. Focus.

Channeling this energy through your body is exhausting. You’ve been working at it for two weeks and you’re still struggling with the power that courses through it.

Bruce had told you that Steve had been able to do it easily.

He’d lifted the hammer and summoned the lightning and it had all just fallen into place.

For you…why can’t you do it?

Thor chuckles at your squabbling. “Come on, little dove. Once more.”

You growl, mustering up all the strength you can and swing the hammer up into the air. The sky grows dark, waves of black cloud swirl and smoke, thunder rumbles, churning and growing louder before lightning splits the sky and flows down through the hammer into you in a dazzling show of blinding strobe.

It feels warm. Heated electricity that comforts and soothes. It makes you feel good. Like it’s been missing your whole life and now that you have it everything is just as it should be.

You turn to face Thor, bringing the hammer down as you watch him squat in his stance. You turn, swinging Mjolnir towards him and release it. It flies for him, followed by the searing white of your lightning and he’s blown back off his feet. The hammer he catches, but the surge of electricity is able to knock him off balance.

The sky continues to thunder, a previously unknown confidence swaying your hips as you strut towards him and stop only when you’ve reached his feet.

He’s laughing, Mjolnir held against his chest. He’s really laughing. His belly is bouncing with it, his t-shirt dirtied from flying through the dirt and grass, small yellow flowers litter his hair.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, thrown off guard by his easy mood. The sky overhead growling.

“You were born for this, Y/N.” He looks at you and fixes you with a look of such admiration that your heart begins to tremble. It aches but, in a way that you haven’t felt in so long.

You think back to the moments that stand out in your history, the ones where you felt exactly like this. Staring at Steve across from you at the gym. On mission, wishing you could follow him out into the fight. Sitting beside him at the little restaurant he’d sneak you to before you two got together and absolutely itching to reach over and grab his hand. The torture of listening to Nat try and fix him up.

Just like then, you long to reach out. You want to hold your hand out to him, help him to his feet. Kiss him.

Wait…no.

You shake your head, pushing these thoughts down as far as you can…it isn’t far. Your limits of denial are shrinking. Since Thor has come back, your life has begun to change again. Turning into something you’ve been desperate to avoid.

Over the past two weeks, it’s become harder and harder to ignore the way you’re feeling for him. Every moment spent with Thor has been more frightening than the last. Like a nervous cat, you jump and startle when he catches you off guard.

Your mind shoots to your post training ritual, when he takes you down to a small lake nearby. He sits with you and he shares with you the things he’s done. Adventures in space, chasing rumors of the stones if only to double-check. He’s traumatized too, in a very different way.

The broken parts of him come out then, laid out for you to pick and prod at. At first, you’d only sit beside him, relishing in the silence but as you spent more time with him, you wondered about the God sitting beside you. The one who’d been in tatters the last time you’d seen him. He doesn’t deny you the curiosity you feel when you’re truly alone with him. He seems to welcome it.

Despite his openness with you, he never asks you about Steve. And you’re grateful. Everything about Steve and your time with him still stings. It was your life. A whole future you’d wished and hoped for. After years of wanting and loving him, for him to just up and leave? Where do you go from that?

Thor can see you coping, and you can see him noticing. He’s very gentle with you, and very patient. You’re grateful. It only makes your heart waver and you hate him for being so nice. You wish he’d be repugnant and demanding and chastising like Sam. Relentless like Bucky. Pushing and pushing until you want to scream.

But Thor smiles at you when you sit beside him at the lake and he waits. He waits for you to speak. Waits for you to ask. Waits for you to sigh. You have a sneaking suspicion he’s still waiting for you to cry. To unload.

So, when he sits right next to you by the lake being patient and sweet and heartbreakingly open, you’ve begun to lay your head on his shoulder, and he says nothing. He doesn’t draw attention to the gesture. He sometimes leans his head against yours too.

You’re thankful because you’ve missed the comfort of contact.

This is what you’re fighting against. This is what you try not to think about when you’re with him. You push it away and focus on your training.

“When are you going to teach me to take a hit then?” You ask him, determined to ignore the way that he seems to fit right in with the wild grass and swaying golden flowers.

He stares up at you, considering you.

“Right now.” He booms, his hand shooting up into the air and the whistle of Stormbreaker pierces the air.

You reach out and call for Mjolnir off his chest and it comes flying up into your hand, just as Thor’s lightning comes raining down from the sky to singe the grass where you stand with an earthshattering boom as partner.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you alright?” He’s asked you like a million times already. Your clothes are fine. Your hair is fine. Your skin is…a little charred, sure, but only lightly dusted in black and only in certain spots.

“Yes.” You grumble, hating the way he fusses. You’re also really regretting asking him to forgo the lake session. You felt too tempted and you’re trying to resist.

He’s in your bedroom, to make sure that you aren’t exhibiting any aftereffects from wielding the hammer. You’re not enhanced like Steve had been. You’re just human. And you’re fairly sure he started out the lake sessions for this exact reason.

You’re made stronger by the hammer but when you aren’t wielding it, you’re just you.

He’s quiet, and you forget that you’re trying to keep your emotions—and to an excruciatingly sharp degree your body too, because, damn it. You want Thor—at bay.

“Hey,” You begin inquisitively, suddenly remember seeing Thor change from his regular clothes to his Asgardian armor in the blast of his lightning when he’d wielded Mjolnir years ago.

“Hm?” Thor asks, plopping down on the end of your bed—Sam forced you to take a room in the tower. A room that Fury had previously prepared for you in case you decided to come back into the fold.

Thick plush baby blue blankets with canary yellow sheets. The room is painted with rich plums and pinks, the ceiling dark espresso oak.

You keep your back to him as you open your drawers and pull out a new t-shirt and some pants to throw on when you get out of the shower.

“If I do that whole clothes changing thing that you do with your lightning,” You begin, pulling your workout thermal up and over your head leaving you in your plain black sports bra. “Will I also get some Asgardian armor? Or is that just a you thing? Because it would be so fucking cool if I could get some Asgardian armor. Ooh, can I pick the col-?”

There’s a sharp hiss behind you and you turn quickly to see what’s happened, your shirt still wrapped around your forearms.

“What?” You ask, startled.

Thor gets up from your bed and moves to you, turning you around forcefully so that he can look at your back.

“Is this why you’re always wearing pants and shirts with sleeves?” He asks.

Fuck. Oh, well. This is your new reality. He was going to see it eventually. Still, your mind is in overdrive, analyzing everything he’s saying because you did the same thing with Steve and you hate yourself for being like this. For hoping when you know you shouldn’t.

For your own sanity, you need to let this go.

“It’s nothing, Thor. They’re old.” You assure him, unashamed. These are your battle scars and they are true to who you have become. If he sticks around long enough, maybe you’ll explain it to him someday?

He takes one heated finger and traces several six-inch-long scars at the center of your back. The puckered skin long since healed. He presses against the tiny ones. The ones where bullets went in. One of his hands wraps around your side and moves up along your ribs feeling for the exit scars. He finds them and presses his palm to the largest while his other hand moves on to trace the largest of your scars. It starts at the center of your back and moves up over your right shoulder, stopping just at your collarbone.

It’s wide and long. This one was the one that almost killed you. And Thor is suddenly holding you. Both arms pulling you back against him.

“These are not nothing.” He grieves.

“You should stop touching me.” You tell him, very aware of the pounding in your chest now.

For a second, his hands lift from your skin, hovering like soft feathers against you, barely touching.

“Why?” He asks defiantly, putting his hands right back where they were. He almost sounds like he could be pouting but you’re too afraid to look.

“Because…” Now you hesitate, knowing that this is a road you shouldn’t travel. This is something that should stay buried. You’ve been great alone until now. And yet, you confess, “It feels good.”

Thor’s hands grow firmer, splayed out along your war-torn skin. Your war, but a war all the same.

“And I shouldn’t. I can’t.” You sigh.

“You should.” He whispers, his lips now hovering over the shell of your ear. Hands tracing your sides. “Let me take this grief from you. Let me show you that it can be good. That things are not lost. Let me comfort you. Let me lo-”

“No.” You almost sob. “Don’t.”

You know what he’ll say, and you don’t want to hear that lie again. Never again.

“Since the moment in the hangar when you saw past the shattered man I’d become and gave me that seedling of hope…I’ve lov-”

“Stop.” You gasp, again refusing to hear that lie. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’ve known you for years, little dove. But you’ve been distracted.” When Thor’s lips find the skin of your neck, you melt back against him.

Your body wants this. It wants his touch. And the fear in your heart is fading fast.

Thor’s hand slides down along your side, lovingly tracing your scars as he goes around to your front and down along your tummy until he finds the waistband of your pants and with his nails softly raking against your skin—it’s so good it makes you shiver—he slides his hand down to cup your mound, his middle finger sliding up and down your suddenly pooling folds.

“You’ve been alone for too long, little dove.” He whispers and he’s right, but you wanted to be alone because this…

“Wait…” You shake your head, snapping out of the lust your body demands. “No. You’ll—”

Thor moves his hand out of your pants and turns you around slowly, hearing your ‘no’. Why does he have to be so good to you?

His long blonde hair is still wrapped up tight on top of his head, his beard tickling the nape of your neck until he’s got you facing him.

“Why must you fight it?” He licks his lips and pulls you closer, his hips now pressed against you.

“You’ll leave.” You tell him, and it’s the fear talking. Fear that like Steve he’ll go, and he very well might.

Thor, more than any of the other Avengers except maybe Carol, has left Earth for years at a time.

“You’re right.” He nods, staring down at the shadows of uncertainty in your eyes. He smooths his thumbs across your cheeks, caressing the sides of your face slowly as your heart falls with his admittance. “I will leave.”

You look down at his chest and shut your eyes, fighting the new wave of sadness that threatens to shift into barbs. Wild and steel made to cut and build that wall back up to make them all keep away.

Why can’t he just drop it? Why is he trying?

He’s like Steve. He doesn’t care. He’ll abandon you.

“And when the time comes for me to return to whatever I might need to do, I will take you with me.” He says, almost amused by the look on your face.

Your eyes shoot open, searching his own for the lie.

“But you-”

“If you would let me speak, then I could tell you that I have wanted to be with you since the moment you kissed my cheek and told me that you would always believe in me.” He sighs, reaching down to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against his full belly and broad, once again tight chest. “I’m a sucker for a sweet woman who believes in the best of me.”

“I’m not ready for this, Thor.” You sigh, feeling lighter than you have in a long time but worried and sick to your stomach with fear. “I need time.”

“Then time you shall have.” Thor nods. “So long as you know that this is where I stand. Waiting. Impatiently. Can I kiss you now?”

You almost smile because he’s been anything but impatient.

You really want him to do more than kiss you, but you nod. He leans down smiling and eager. You press his beard down against his neck to keep it out of the way as you push yourself onto your toes to meet his softened, pink lips.

He tastes like honey and wine and his kiss is out of this world.

Thor stares at you, eyes wide open as your own stare right back into his. The two of you are laying on his bed and he’s got his hands crossed over his chest while yours are wrapped around your knees, folded up as far as you can get them.

Today is a hard day. It’s been two years exactly since things went wrong.

No. Not Steve.

Yes, that had been life changing and it had destroyed you but that wasn’t when the destruction had truly started…

“What do you remember best about her?” Thor asks, his voice as gentle and warm as he can make it.

You think for a moment, staring at him because if you look away, you might fall to pieces like you did last year.

“Mmmm, I remember the way she saw things.” You smile, a sad, weak little thing that makes Thor smile too.

His is encouraging and it helps give you the strength to finally talk about this after two years of wishing that things had gone differently.

“When I first met her, she asked me why I wasn’t out in the field.”

“Why weren’t you?” Thor asks, curious.

“I wasn’t as well-trained as I am now. Back then I had a tendency to make small mistakes. I learned. I’m better now. Much better. When I told her that, she shook her head and I remember she holstered her gun, looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘We all make mistakes. Just make a few more and eventually you’ll make the right one.’”

Thor smiles a bit wider.

“Did she shrug?” He asks. “I can almost picture her shrugging as she said it.”

“She did.” You nod, smiling more genuinely. “She-”

You hesitate, staring at his inquiring face with a small bit of fear. You haven’t had this conversation yet.

“What is it?” He asks, reaching out to take your hand. ���Tell me.”

“Before Steve and I…before he went on the run with her and Sam and Wanda, she knew how I felt about him. She saw right through me. Asked me why I hadn’t told him.” You look down at his chest, avoiding his stare because you don’t know what you have left over for Steve in you.

Apart from the anger, there’s a reason your heart still aches when you think about him.

“Why didn’t you tell him how you felt?” He wonders, no sound of judgement or jealousy in his voice.

“He’d told me once—or rather, he told her that I wasn’t his type. But I was right there, in front of him.” You can feel the weight of his words settle over you again.

You should have known back then. When he’d said that, he’d been telling the truth. You’d been the closest to his type maybe? The second choice. You weren’t Peggy and clearly she was his type. You should have believed him when he said it and saved yourself all this suffering.

“I should have believed him and not kissed him that night.” You lament, turning your gaze back on Thor finally. “I knew better. He’d said it himself that I wasn’t what he wanted but I kissed him anyway and the Snap brought him to me. Out of desperation and because I was all that he could get.”

Thor’s face darkens, eyebrows drawn close, chin flexing as your voice begins to break.

“Of course, he’s going to leave me the first chance he gets.” You sob. “What I don’t understand is why he kept it going for so long.”

You sit up, pulling yourself together as best you can as you push his blanket down a little so that you’re not so covered.

You’re in your sleep shorts, refusing to get out of bed on this second anniversary of Nat’s death. Shorts you wear only when it’s just you and Thor. He doesn’t judge your scars and they’re on every inch of you because you’d been reckless for too long in your battles before the needs of others became more important than burying your sorrow.

And here it comes, pouring out of you now, because you finally have someone that will just let you release it without making you feel bad or weak for it.

“I wish she was here. I miss her. I miss her voice and her counsel.” You explain as Thor sits up slowly to scoot closer, arm resting beside you but not touching you yet. “She knew him best and I wish she could explain it to me so that I can understand because-because…”

You should stop. You shouldn’t tell Thor this.

“What, my dove?” He asks, this time wrapping his arm around your waist as he scoots even closer.

“I-” You feel heavy tears fall onto the blanket, dull thuds against fabric and mattress. “I went back to the apartment last week. Where he and I…I was looking for some of my old clothes. Things to move in here. And I…I…”

You sob hard but keep your voice low, a whisper as you shake your head before you bury your face into your hands, refusing to say it.

Thor reaches up to grip your wrists and pulls your hand away easily, exposing the raw weeping face beneath.

“Tell me.” He coaxes.

“I f-found a r-ring.” You gasp, breathing in then out comes a quiet keening. Only Thor will hear you. “H-Hidden in his sock drawer.”

Had his love for Peggy really been that overwhelming that he’d planned a future with you? Hoped and dreamed like you had that there would be more to this life with you then abandoned it when the opportunity had presented itself?

You meet Thor’s eyes, biting hard on your bottom lip as you choke on your grief. Grief held in. Grief that you’d buried. Grief that you’ve clung to. Time to let it go.

You also don’t want to need Thor. You don’t want to need anyone, but you know that without Thor, you would still be chasing the mission. Chasing the high of a capture. Chasing the violence because the wreck inside you needs an outlet.

You do need Thor. Trying to deny that is not going to change that fact.

“I w-wasn’t enough.” You cry.

Thor shakes his head, reaching to wipe at your tears as he pulls you in to kiss him. Again, and again. Long pecks.

They’re searing, heated kisses made to chase away your sad thoughts and it works.

“You’re enough, little dove. You’re almost too much.” He jokes and you sob and laugh at the same time.

“I wish she was here.” You cry, renewed grief making you cry a little louder. “I miss her so much, Thor.”

“We’ll go see her.” Thor tells you, meaning the gravestone that had been erected for her. Even though her body isn’t there…she’s there. “As soon as you’re willing. We’ll go.”

His consideration only makes you cry harder and he kisses you more. He tries to chase it all away with his lips and at first it doesn’t work like it did moments ago.

Until it does, and your sobbing subsides.

He wraps both arms around you, twisting to lay you down gently against his pillows.

You’re breathless as he pulls back to yank off his shirt, his pot belly taut, smaller than before, but still there. His pecs have hardened, his arms are still massive and bulging. He waits with it off. Waiting for your rejection or acceptance.

“Don’t stop.” You gasp up at him, sitting up to pull your own shirt off then laying back down.

“I won’t.” He promises, excited by the go-ahead, then reaches down beneath you as you arch your back for him to unhook your bra and throw it with the rest of your clothes onto the floor.

It takes him seconds to get you completely naked. He makes a quick pass of his lips across every scar on your body as he slides back and off the bed. He stands to strip away his own pants as he admires your naked form.

Your own eyes roam his new perfection. His cock is huge, peach and swollen, throbbing as he climbs back over you.

He kisses along your ankle, up the inside of your calf, your knee, and thighs. Here he sucks gently, marking your flesh with his love bite before he delves between your folds to taste your soaked cunt.

Too long. You’ve been wanting this for too long. Alone for too long. He was right to tell you that before.

He’s lapping up at your clit, suckling gently on it as his hands slide up along the bottom of your thighs, pushing your bent legs up higher until your hips are almost lifted off the mattress so that he can get a better angle at your entrance.

His tongue dances along the edge, nose nudging your clit before he worms it along inside, tasting you.

You gasp, reaching down to cling to his long blonde hair as it falls around him. He grunts at your tugging but he’s gentle with you, stripping away at your protective layers until your undulating beneath him.

Your grieving sobs have turned into nectarous whimpers and Thor is absolutely frantic on your cunt as he races back up to your clit to lick and bite, coaxing your body into the most powerful orgasm of your life.

You fall to pleasurable pieces there with his head between your legs, your hands locked in his hair, toes curled, body trembling.

He eats you out until you’re overstimulated, twitching, and your moaning has subsided. Then he kisses your stomach, once again pressing his lips to those bullet and knife scars, stopping on the one that had almost killed you at your clavicle, where he licks and leaves another love bite.

“How did you get this one, my dove?” He wonders, your body still recovering.

Breathless you look down at the scar he means as he traces it with his fingers, his chin and beard shining with your arousal. You wipe at his face, embarrassed by how wet you got…but it had been a while!

“I um…I was in Japan. A village called Kiso. I didn’t realize I was walking into a trap. T-two guys had really, really long blades. They got me from both sides. One from the back—that one I couldn’t stop. One from the front which I blocked after he cut me a bit. I killed them and I almost bled out, but some villagers found me and got me to a hospital.” You run your hand along the back of his head as he rests it on your left breast, tracing the scar with his finger still.

“I should have come back sooner.” He laments, looking up at your face.

“I wasn’t ready for you then.” You tell him. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for you even now.”

Thor pushes himself up, staring at your face for a moment before he looks down at your breast and while he turns his eyes back on you, he opens his mouth to take in your perked nipple.

He sucks on it softly, tongue lapping around it in circles.

You gasp, overcome by desire again. You fist the hair on the back of his head then pull him up to kiss you.

Tasting yourself on him is intoxicating and empowering. Here he is, marked as yours.

You push against his shoulder and he rolls over until he’s on his back and you’re settled on top of him. Rocking your hips back until his cock pokes against your cheeks.

“You’re ready for me now, aren’t you, little dove?” He asks, slowly rubbing his hands along the tops of your thighs.

You reach down between your bodies, line him up, and slowly sink down on him until you’re absolutely full.

Thor’s hands are vices on the tops of your thighs, and he groans as you take him in his entirety.

You cry out, your walls stretched and out of practice. You can feel him throbbing within you and your walls are velvet waves against him.

“You’re so perfect, my dove.” Thor says, almost in shock, throwing his head back against his pillows as you’re wrapped around him. “So perfect.”

Slowly you begin to rock your hips, feeling the splendor of his massive cock slide in and out over and over while his hands explore the curves of your body, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other thumbs your clit.

“Thor…” You whimper, trying to move faster but already your legs are numb. Still recovering from your first orgasm.

He suddenly sits up and places his hands on the curve of your ass and helps to pull you back and forth faster. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him hungrily, moaning into his mouth as he leads you to fuck him.

You come hard and fast, breaking the kiss to bite into his shoulder as your body goes rigid and then continues to tremble as he keeps going.

“That’s it, little dove. Let me make it better.” He says happily, then turns you over to lay you down on your back once more.

He settles over you, pelvis to pelvis, his mouth open against yours as you gasp and moan into him while he pumps himself in and out in long smooth waving thrusts.

“Doesn’t that feel good, my dove?” He asks, and you nod, still riding your high.

“Yes.” You whimper, tracing the shape of his shoulders as he dips his tongue into your mouth.

He licks and kisses along your chin, down your neck as he moves faster, thrusting hard. He pounds against your nub, that band in your pelvis tightening and moments away from snapping again.

Thor’s movements become more frantic as he chases his own climax. His hands grasp your shoulders, holding your body flush against his own as his lips find their way back to yours.

He pulls back, staring into your eyes for two long seconds as your body tightens once more.

“I love you.” He whispers, and your heart sears painfully in your chest.

Your stomach is in flutters, nervous, excited, terrified, as his words register. Your lips open to respond. To return his feelings. To tell him that you feel the same. You love him too. Yes.

You do. You see that.

But you can’t say it.

The band in your pelvis snaps and your body is yanked into euphoric pleasure once again as Thor’s last thrust explodes within you.

He groans, mashing his lips to yours and you kiss him back eagerly, returning his love in the kiss because you can’t say it…you can’t tell him.  You love him. But this is all you can give him. For now? Forever?

What if he leaves you?

He breaks your kiss, his lips gliding down along your cheek to your ear as both your bodies tremble together.

“I love you.” He whispers again. “Always.”

In the aftermath of your first night with Thor, he becomes less platonic with you in front of the others.

He doesn’t outright kiss you or hold your hand when they’re around, but he shows it in some subtle and not so subtle ways.

His more subtle ways include him serving your food first or giving you first choice of drink. He makes sure that you have a blanket when you state that you’re cold. And he brags to Stephen and Wanda about your skills with Mjolnir. For those really watching, it’s hard to miss. But everyone is living their own lives and they don’t have time for your drama.

The day that everyone actually finds out, you get up from bed and pull on a plain gray tank top—you’ve been less careful of your scars since that night with Thor—that you tuck into a pair of loose pink and white striped pants. They’re tied up with a matching sash, casual and easy for a lazy day in the tower.

“Where are you going?” Thor asks, rousing from his slumber, rubbing at his eye with his large fist. His hair is a mess, a nest of golden hair that needs brushing. His beard is already braided neatly, fastened with a thin, tiny black band.

His large shirtless body is scrumptious in the late morning and you move to the bed to crawl over him and kiss his lips, smoothing the worst of his bedhead.

Here in the safety of your room, and occasionally his, you can be open with your affections. You don’t worry about the stares that the team might give you or the questions that might follow.

You don’t want an audience to this if Thor is going to leave you in the end. For now, you’ll enjoy this for what it is. You’ll keep it quiet. Thor doesn’t seem too worried about letting them know either so…you’ll keep it to yourselves.

“I’m hungry.” You tell him.

“Stay here, I’ll go get you something.” He springs out from under you, shifting to the edge of the bed to pull on his pants, t-shirt quickly pulled on too.

“I wanna go.” You counter, and because it’s what you want, Thor doesn’t protest.

“I’ll come with you.” He says, getting to his feet, yawning.

“You’re still sleepy.” You point out and he moves around towards you, pulling you in for a long-held hug. Last night’s debrief had been a long one. New bads making a name for themselves up north and it’s starting to look as if the entire team will be needed.

“I am.” He agrees. “But I’m hungry too.”

You’re about to protest but if he’s hungry too…You head out, pulling out of his arms but when you turn, he reaches down to grab hold of your sash.

Like a puppy on a lead, he follows you through the hallway, into the elevator, down the steps of the upper deck, and down to the lower common room holding onto your sash.

This gesture draws Bucky and Sam’s gazes, their breakfasts abandoned. They stare, slightly openmouthed, while Rhodey sits back in his chair, observing curiously as he sips his coffee. Wanda covers her mouth, smiling underneath while Peter beside her drops his bottle of water on the glass table loudly where it splashes and makes a mess.

Stephen, already standing at the kitchen counter, looks from your easy expression to Thor’s hand as he clings to your pants and follows you behind the counter. He says nothing however, just watches.

“Are there any pop tarts?” Thor wonders, just to you, but everyone can hear him.

You push yourself up onto your toes and pull open a cabinet to look inside. An unopened box of unfrosted strawberry pop tarts sits waiting for consumption.

“Yep.” You grab it and hold it over your shoulder for him while you reach in with your other hand a little deeper in search of the box of breakfast bars you’d bought last week.

Thor releases your sash and wraps that arm around your waist as he leans down to kiss your neck, taking the box of pop tarts from you.

“Thank you.” He says so that only you can hear, and your nervous heart flutters.

He’s kissing you, holding you, in front of everyone. You’re terrified of it but also ecstatic because it means this is real…but how real? Will he leave you? Will he break you?

You turn back to look up at him, searching his soft smile for a sign that he’ll change his mind. That he’ll rip this away from you and leave you, just like-

“Steve?” Wanda asks, her voice speaking your mind.

You turn away from Thor, twisting in his hold to look at Wanda in confusion. Can she read minds now?

But her eyes are trained on the upper floor, at the top of the stairs.

Everyone is already looking up, Bucky is on his feet, hands clenched into fists. He looks angry.

You follow their gaze and you very nearly faint at the sight of Steve in a pair of dark brown high-waisted pants, and a light blue button up, staring down at you with glistening blue eyes. A million questions for you because you’re still in Thor’s arms.

“I’m back.” He tells you—because he’s only looking at you—and he waits, while the shock wears off in you and something else takes its place.

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[stories-sometimes]

Skinny

Pre-Serum Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: Skinny Steve is in love with one of his best friends, although it seems like so is everybody else

Word Count: 2603

Masterlist

~~~

I sat at the bar, keeping to myself, instead watching my two best friends dazzling everyone in the dance hall. They were naturals, irresistible to any person who stumbles across them. Both are completely in their element, Bucky simply says a few smooth words and offers a dance and the girl’s his for the night, she’d flash her a smile and all the guys would be enthralled. And I was one of those many men. My eyes are drawn to her every move, every laugh she lets out, every step she takes around the hall.

“Come on Stevie.” I feel a sudden clap on my back, snapping me out of my trance. I spin around to see Bucky with some adoring blonde attached to his arm. “Loosen up, find a partner.” He suggests, as if that’s something I could do as smoothly as he can.

“It’s not that easy for me Buck, I’m hardly what most dames want.” He rolls his eyes at my response.

“Maybe if you actually put yourself out there you could find someone.” He follows my gaze, still stuck on her. “You know if you ask her to dance she’d probably say yes.”

“She can have any guys there’s no way she’d settle for me.”

“Fine.” He mutters under his breath, “have it your way.” He turns away from me, letting his date drag him out to dance. I ignore his comments, residing to just staring and hoping she’ll come over. Somehow my mental messages work and she makes her way over to me, leaving the guy she was with yearning for a second more attention from her.

“Bored of dancing.” I say to her as she slips onto the bar stool next to mine.

“Can’t seem to find the right partner.” She replies, showing me her signature smile.

“Well I’m sure that guy disappointed at that fact.”

“He was getting too handsy, he thought I wanted more than just a dance.” She says, her face showing her clear disdain for that man. I scowl at the man when I notice him looking over at her again. “What about you, found a date for tonight?”

“Nah, leaving the flirting to Bucky.”

“Good idea. But does that mean you wouldn’t accept a dance from anyone.” She says, a cheeky smile covering her face, it’s clear what she is suggesting.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe, depends-” I stutter out, cheeks quickly turning red.

“You’re useless at this.” She lets out a sweet laugh, offering her hand out for me. I accept it immediately, letting her lead me to the other dancing bodies.

“I’m sorry if I step on your toes, I’ve got two left feet when it comes to dancing.” She laughs at me.

“I’m sure you’ll be just swell at it.” I probably look ridiculous, my inexperienced dancing against her elegant, effortless moves. I’m only just the same height as her, a change of appearance from her usual, more manly, conventionally attractive dance partners. Still, she seems to be happy right now, even if she is only doing this to make me feel better. Some sad pity dance.

I’d known her all my life, we grew up living next door to each other. She was one of the few who had talked to my when I was a young, sickly kid. Her and Bucky had always looked out for me, saving me from the bullies no matter how many fights I got in. He’d pull me out, she’d clean me up. She was good at that, taking care of me. I always remember her being independent, a strong woman from day one. She was raised by her dad, although he was hardly a parent. He worked in a factory during the day and rotted away with a bottle at night, she solely took care of him, herself and everyone else she loves.

As we grew up, more and more guys found interest in her, and how could they not. She was a thing of beauty both inside and out. Even a brief glance in her direction has any sane man’s mind turn to mush. And she picks me to dance with.

“How’d enlistment go?” She asks. My face suddenly turns sour.

“I’m not healthy enough.” I grimace, glancing down at the floor, ashamed of my physique. “Bucky got in though.” She looks  at me sympathetically.

“There’s still ways to help the war effort.” I shrug. “Hey,” she says, placing her hand on my cheek, forcing me to look at her, “trust me, you’ll find a way. I know you, you’re not gonna stop until you find the best way you can fight this war.” I smile briefly, imagining that I could do something meaningful to win against the Nazis. The night soon was over. We walked home together, going our separate ways as we reach our respective apartments.

The next morning me and Bucky sat in a booth at the diner she works at.

“Hey doll, think you could get us some food.” Bucky shouts across the room to her.

“Or you could wait until I’m done serving these people.” She shouts back, ignoring us while for as long as she could, focusing on other customers. Eventually she had to come over to us.

“Took you long enough.” Bucky teases.

“There’s other customers Buck.”

“Why do I get the feeling you avoid us here?”

“Maybe I do.” She smiled playfully at him.

“Why are we even friends?” He mumbles grumpily.

“I question that every time I see you Bucky.” He looks up, pretending to be offended. I let out a loud laugh at the interaction, managing to get her attention. “I had a good time last night Steve, we should do it again some time.” I nod rapidly in response, unable to form words. “You want the usual?” She asks us, we both nod. As soon as her back is turned to get our food I see a cocky grin covering Bucky’s face. 

“Told you she’s say yes.”

“Yeah you were right, no need to be smug about it.” I reply, trying to avoid the look on his face, staring at anything but him.

“Maybe you should listen to me more often punk.” He says, lightly kicking my leg to get my attention back. Our food finally arrives, Bucky quickly wolfing it down before leaving for work. I remain in my seat for a bit longer, opting to sit and sketch the diner, studying the other patrons and her working. Out of the corner of my eye I see the man she was dancing with last night walk into the building. His eyes instantly found her, a creepy smile growing over his face. When she went to serve him he tries to keep her there for as long as he can. Despite his attempts, it was clear she wants to leave that table. I keep my eyes fixed on them, worrying for what he might try. As she goes to leave he grabs onto her wrist, pulling her back in, not letting go when she starts to try to shrug him off. Once that happened I close my sketchbook, making my way over to them.

“Hey, let go of her.” I say firmly.

“What’s it to you short stack?” He stands up, tightening his grip on her.

“Steve leave it, I can handle this.” She says, eyes warning me. “Sir you need to let go and leave the premises.” She addresses the man. We now have the attention of the rest of the diner. The man, not wanting the cause more of a scene, finally let go of her.

“Fine I’ll leave.” He says, backing off and raising his hands in surrender. He began to storm off, slapping her ass as he passes her. She gasps, stepping back from him as he walks away all too proud of himself.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you any respect.” I begin to step up to him before she pushes her hand on my chest to stop me.

“He’s not worth it.” She whispers.

“You wanna go!” He shouts at me.

“Sir, I need you to leave before I call the cops.” She repeats to him. He turns, actually leaving, avoiding the angry stares and mutters from the other customers. “Don’t worry about Steve, just go sit back down.”

“But he-” 

“It’s fine, I get stuff like this all the time.” She guides me back to my seat before I can protest.

“What!” I glare, how dare people treat her that way. I feel a protective fire fuel inside of me. “Why haven’t you ever said anything?”

“Because I knew you’d get like that. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“You haven’t even told Buck.” I exclaim.

“I can deal with it myself Steve.” She says more firmly this time. “Just sit down, finish your food.” With that she leaves to continue her work. I sit, mixed feelings flowing through my head. On one hand I want to protect her but I knew she hated to feel like a damsel in distress. She could look after herself, she was firm in that belief and didn’t want anyone taking that away from her. I stared at her back, she’s busy serving another table. I desperately want to prevent anything like that happening, to be the person who could stop people like that; to be the person who stops the bullies of the world.

I stay at the diner for longer than I had to, continuing my sketches. Eventually I leave, with my drawing done and without her talking to me I had no reason to justify my stay. As I walk past the alleyway behind the diner, I hear someone shout.

“Hey you!” I turn around to see the guy earlier kicked out. “Think you could just embarrass me in there and get away with it.”

“I think you embarrassed yourself on your own.” I reply, standing my ground.

“What the hell that’s supposed to mean?” He says, shoving me into the wall of the alley.

“I just don’t think it’s right to harass women who obviously aren’t interested.”

“The girl was interested, just needed some encouragement.” He laughs smugly. I launch a punch into his face, enraged by his words, actions and mindset. It was weak, but still enough to piss him off. 

“You want it to be like that!” He shouts, firing back with his own punch, sending my head into the wall behind me. This makes me dizzy enough for him to easily push me to the ground. Despite the pain I get back up, putting my hands up ready to try fight back and defend myself. He hits me back down almost immediately, and once again I get back up. “Why won’t just quit! Stay down!” He screams angrily at me, kicking my feet out, knocking me down.

“I’ll always stand up to people like you.” I say, just managing to drag myself up.

“How long are you gonna keep this up?” He growls, punching my nose. I grunt as I hear a small crack.

“I can do this all day.” I say strongly. This repeats, each time he hits me down I somehow get back up. He finally gives up, not before pushing me down into the garbage cans of the diner. I groan out as he leaves, feeling blood trickle down my face from the nose and where my forehead hit the floor. I lay slumped over the garbage bags, letting myself recover a bit before I would attempt to drag myself home and forget about the experience. It wasn’t long before I heard the backdoor of the diner open. I turn to see her stood there, a sharp gasp leaving her lips.

“Hey, you’re shift over?” I say the only thing I could think of in this moment. She nods absentmindedly, her mind anywhere but her work. Distress was covering her face as she rushes over to help me.

“Steve, I told you to stay out of this.” She says, gently resting her hand on my cheek, checking over my injuries.

“He started it.” I mutter under my breath. She glares at me. “He caught me when I was walking home.” I admit. She sighs, carefully pulling my arm over her shoulders, lifting me up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She leads me back to her apartment, resting me down on her coach. Quickly she gathers her first aid kit, pressing a cloth to my head, adding pressure to stop the bleeding. “When are you gonna stop getting into these fights?” She asks.

“As soon as people stop treating others like there above them.” I reply, sounding braver than I feel right now and every other time I’m sat injured in her apartment.

“Then I guess I’ll be cleaning you up for the rest of my life.” She smiles at me, applying ointment and a bandage to my head.

“I just hate seeing you get treated like that, a dame like you doesn’t deserve that.”

“I told you I can handle it myself.”

“Doesn’t make me like it anymore.” I murmur as she’s done cleaning me up.

“I’ve got to admit, I kinda like you looking out for me.” She says, a light shade of red dusting her cheeks.

“Really.” I smile back, sounding a little to eager, forgetting about the pain in my head.

“Yeah, makes me feel like a worth something.” My smile drops at her admission.

“What do you mean? You’re worth the world to so many people. Don’t you see all the guys who’d give up the world for a moment of your time.” Her blush deepens.

“Are you one of those guys Stevie?” She flirts lightly. It instantly becomes my time to turn red, although mine was a much deeper shade. I nod shyly, avoiding her intense gaze.

“Yeah, you know I’d do anything for you.” She places her hand on my cheek, guiding me to look at her. “You’re the most important woman in my life.” Slowly she leans in towards me, letting her lips lightly graze mine. “You really want me?” I question once she pulls back. “You could have any guy you want and you gonna pick me.” She kisses me again, this time more confident and passionate.

“None of them treat me like you do. That’s what matters to me, you make me feel special like no one else can. The other guys empty compliments don’t do that for me.” She reassures me, her face lighting up more than I’d ever seen it before. “I really like you Steve Rogers, more than I’ve ever like a guy before. It’s kinda scary how much I care about you.” My heart feels as though it has exploded with joy. I’m convinced I’ve died and gone to heaven, and if I have I never want to leave as long as it means I get this attention from her. I pulled her closer, kissing her desperately as if it’s the last thing I was ever going to do.

“You really don’t mind this.” I say, gesturing to my skinny frame. She rolls her eyes.

“I think you look damn good.” She grins, watching my face somehow turn more red. “And if you’d have me, I’d love to be your girl.” My eyes grow wide, all my wildest dreams coming true.

“Yes, yes, please be my girl!” I respond, far too excited, loving the way ‘my girl’ sounds as it rolls off my tongue. She soon matches my excitement, eagerly kissing me.

She murmurs against my lips, “I’m your girl.”

[antiporn-activist]

Not my work, found on Facebook

“So I decided to do a little research into the $750/day figure I’d heard a private company was charging the US government per each detained migrant child. I wanted to, with my own eyes and brain, 1. verify this figure was accurate; 2. verify it was indeed a private company instead of a non-profit charging this, if true, as both have managed these detention centers (not that it really matters, ultimately, but stay with me); 3. try to figure out where this per diem sum — more than my monthly mortgage — was going, if not to even buy these tortured children toothbrushes and soap, which are about the cheapest basic necessities on the market, and which no individual has to replace every day.

$750/person A DAY should cover a lot of necessities, right? Right. So where the hell is all this money going? This can’t be true...

Well here’s what I found:

1. Yes, it’s a private company called Comprehensive Health Services (a subsidiary of Caliburn International). CHS operates the largest child migrant detention center, which is in FL and was already getting horrible press — especially from local FL papers — last year. But that didn’t matter, because CHS recently opened up a few more child prisons in TX, as it snagged a new government contract, despite many documented concerns about conditions there.

2. $750/day per child is an accurate sum of CHS’s CLAIMED operating costs, and what our federal tax dollars are paying for. A sum that was agreed to upon award of the contract. In fact, it was actually on the record as $775 last summer.

3. So where is this money going, you wonder, if not to soap and toothbrushes? Yeah, I did too, and it was quite easy to dig up. CHS, via Caliburn, is controlled by the private equity firm DC Capital Partners. For those of you who don’t know how private equity firms work, look it up, or ask me in the comments.

4. While I would not be able to find out vested shareholders in the DCCP portfolio, we do not have to assume they’re making some nice returns on these CHS operations and government contracts that line their pockets instead of covering even basic human needs for children. That’s clear, because why would a private company keep their costs down so low that they completely disregard humanity, even though they say they’re experts in “healthcare?”

PROFIT. FOR THEIR PRIVATE INVESTORS.

5. While I can’t name for you the private investors getting rich off of this humanitarian crisis, I can name for you members of the advisory board of DCCP, which approves everything in the portfolio.

First up: Trump’s former Chief of Staff, John Kelly, who was named to the board LAST MONTH, and photographed riding a golf cart into a CHS child prison. So with his own eyes, he saw the conditions there. And he was cool with it all, because hey, there’s money to be made for his rich investor friends, and maybe even himself! Who knows! Can’t say for sure, so feel free to reasonably assume what you wish. I’m just stating facts here.

Coincidentally, prior to joining Trump in the WH, he was also a paid lobbyist for DCCP. Hmmmm...

6. So next up on the DCCP board: Richard L. Armitage, former U.S. deputy secretary of state; Michael Corbin; former ambassador to the United Arab Emirates; Michael V. Hayden, former director of the Central Intelligence Agency and of the National Security Agency; Donald M. Kerr Jr., former deputy director of science and technology at the CIA; Anthony C. Zinni, former commander-in-chief of the U.S. Central Command and former U.S. Envoy to the Middle East; and Stephen F. Loftus, former director of the Office of the Budget for the United States Navy.

Are y’all seeing any patterns here?

7. Michael Hayden, last June, said on the record he sees “commonality” between Nazi Germany’s separation of children at concentration camps and the Trump administration policy that is forcing children to be separated from their parents at the U.S.-Mexico border.

"I know we’re not Nazi Germany, alright. But there is a commonality there, and a fear on my part ... We have standards we have to live up to,” Hayden told CNN’s “New Day.”

It appears he left those standards at the boardroom door, along with many other individuals that dance with greed and corruption on the line of the private and public sectors COMPLETELY UNCHECKED.

8. Last month, the same month Kelly got his new gig, the government awarded CHS a brand new, hush-hush contract worth $341 million, even though there had been tons of pressure to close it due to its conditions.

THERE WAS NO COMPETITIVE BIDDING FOR THE CONTRACT, and it happened under the radar.

9. Just two months before this, in March, CHS/Caliburn cancelled its IPO after registering with the SEC to sell $100m public shares. The CEO cited “market forces,” yet made it clear the company was thriving and growing.

——————

I’ll leave you to come to your own conclusions about all of this, or do more research. And I’ll post a ton of sources in the comments for those who actually think this administration is “draining the swamp,” or who want to debate the semantics of whether these ”centers” can reasonably be called child concentration camps or not without offending some non-brown people.

And for those of you who think children don’t deserve the most basic human rights because they’re not American: There’s a special place in hell for you, and I imagine hell to be a whole lot like this situation.

For those of you who are cool lining the pockets of private citizens in DC with YOUR tax dollars while dirty, hungry, sick children live imprisoned and stacked in cages without even a dime of your money going to pay for soap and toothbrushes for these kids like it was supposed to: I’m ashamed to share this country with you as legal citizens, and I think you’re disgustingly dumb. We failed you, too, but at least you got to go to school when you were a kid, and didn’t spend childhood dying in a cage.

America, NONE OF THIS IS OK. WAKE UP.”

——————

FRIDAY NIGHT UPDATE (!!)

1. As mentioned upon writing this, I originally posted my sources at the beginning of the comments thread at time of publishing -- before it became a large discussion. For your convenience and further reading, I am now moving my sources here + some extra homework for everyone to do (no particular order):

https://www.bloomberg.com/profile/company/CLBR:US

https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/immigration/article229744049.html

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/john-kelly-joins-board-of-caliburn-international-company-operating-largest-unaccompanied-migrant-children-shelter/

https://news.littlesis.org/2019/02/13/wall-street-banks-former-defense-officials-looking-to-cash-in-on-child-detentions/?fbclid=IwAR3VPG3U1VqOlHvAus6mZwT5X42YR0946O-9ALtwFh-P-2i8P_ZxLQ8QvwE

https://thehill.com/latino/392727-hayden-sees-commonality-between-zero-tolerance-border-policy-and-nazi-germany?fbclid=IwAR1XcPVz72-f1ju70gdibR-H6-3tI8dOh_9yqfjZtNx-kfQJb6AMuf-gemI

https://www.npr.org/2019/02/13/694175061/florida-shelter-is-scrutinized-for-the-way-it-handles-migrant-children?fbclid=IwAR2Sq1vPOSLs0LPxkI6723lMKipsI12orZWMqxSzw9kqUqqTfM18gpo6xaU

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/21/us/migrant-shelters-border-crossing.html

https://heavy.com/news/2019/05/caliburn-international/?fbclid=IwAR1tsUMn2noGPGWEZxdwOlGwwCj-eDjaIR2I2pCNPd6qgehjCKs0lJpIJuQ

https://www.thedailybeast.com/doj-is-investigating-whether-us-payoffs-to-iraqi-officials-opened-the-door-for-isis?fbclid=IwAR2fXGNE328gvAi6bp7mD7SzKYo5wCY-x2lODw4fKDNrssupd-FGcOfmjnY

https://thebaffler.com/latest/retirement-brought-to-you-by-prisons-inc?fbclid=IwAR3STKgqiMOtVUho4QPq21zXRNovBl8_gvKpFdX3rUWahrOuZmBLJ9pO_m0

https://www.floridatoday.com/story/news/local/2018/06/20/cape-canaveral-detention-center/717375002/

https://www.chsmedical.com/compliance

The people have spoken, so hope that helps you all wrap your minds around this in a more complete and credible way. Thank you to all who have participated in civil dialogue and shared this post. Let's keep it constructive, as we do not need to be even more destructive than the current situation.

2. THE POST IS ALREADY PUBLIC + SHAREABLE. Please do not ask me if you can share it -- I made it public, which is why you can see it. You should be able to share the original version. If you can't, refresh your app, run your updates or make sure you aren't still viewing a friend's protected share of the original itself. There is no possible way I can instruct all individuals on how to share it -- but I appreciate all of you who are moved by these words, and want to raise awareness about this distressing situation.

3. Your concern has given me hope. Do your homework. Look into your group investment portfolios, pensions, etc. Know where your money is invested. Call your legislators. Do anything but freak out to the point of being unproductive and histrionic. DO ANYTHING BUT BE AWFUL TO EACH OTHER.

Thank you. We are in this together.

From the Facebook page of Emily Price.

[the-truest-sentence-i-know]

Shared Life Experiences

Chapter One: Coming Out

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Steve Rogers x James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes (Stucky)

Summary:  So much has changed in the seventy years that Steve was under, and now, in the 21st century, he realizes that he no longer has to hide those parts of himself that he used to.

But it isn't that easy, because when Bucky comes back into his life, he remembers all those feelings they’d had to hide back then that they wouldn’t have to now. But he isn't sure if that’s what Bucky wants - because it's been a while and feelings may have changed.

ao3 || ff.net || wattpad

The future was different.

Steve knew that that wasn’t exactly a profound statement, but the difference hit him every day. Many were positive, some negative – thought more in a nostalgic than objective way.

One night, not too long after the Battle of New York, they’d all been lounging in the tv room of Avengers tower, half-watching some drama or other. He hadn’t really been paying attention, and when he glanced over at the screen, he saw what looked like to be two men on a date.

His first thought was that this must be a parody of some kind. But as the scene went on, the romantic tone never wavered.

He was so enthralled by this couple, these two men in love, on the screen, that he didn’t notice the others watching him carefully.

Tony, Natasha, and Bruce watched him cautiously, uncertain of how he’d react. Of course, they hoped for the best, after all, Steve was a very decent guy, and he hadn’t been weird about women or people of colour at all so far. But, on the other hand, he had grown up in the thirties.

On the screen, the blond one knelt down and reached into his coat for a ring box. Steve inhaled sharply, eyes stinging, as the other man nodded tearfully. The two embraced, laughing as they lost their balance and tumbled to the floor.

Steve became aware of the others watching him and rose quickly. “Uh, bathroom,” he muttered before rushing out of the room. He knew how it looked, what the others must be thinking, but he didn’t want to be seen having such a strong emotional reaction to a damned soap opera of all things.

He made his way down to an empty hallway and leaned against the wall, eyes closed. He took a few shaky breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Flashes of memory plagued his mind. Sneers. Hurtful words thrown like punches. Hiding in dark places from actual punches. Better memories accompanied them. Laughing blue eyes. Knowing smiles. Kisses in dark hiding places. Small cots and tangled limbs.

But always in secret.

“Steve?” a quiet voice asked.

Steve nearly jumped and quietly turned away to wipe any trace of tears from his eyes. When he turned back, Natasha stood there, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, looking concerned.

“Hey, Nat,” he said, grimacing at the hoarseness of his voice.

“You good?” she asked, and, as Steve was starting to realize with her, she really wanted to know. And he didn’t know what to say.

To say something out loud that has always been a secret between two people, never vocalized in a voice above a whisper, something that’s never been seen in full sunlight, is a feat nigh herculean.

So he just shook his head.

Nat simply pursed her lips, nodded and pulled him into a hug.

 LGBT history was added to his list of research topics an important category on its own. He made his way tearfully through documentaries about Stonewall with Nat at his side. He watched his first pride parade from a distance, not quite ready yet to participate.

Finally, when Steve had once again pulled Nat out of the room to tell her this new thing he’d learned about (Elton John!), she’d said, “Look, man, I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but have you thought of coming out to the others? I promise that they’d be super chill about it.”

Steve looked at her uncertainly. “Are you sure, I mean, I like them and all, but…”

“100% sure,” she said. “They know I’m pan and, hell, I’m pretty sure there’s something going on between Tony and Bruce, with all that tension.”

 The benefit of the internet was that research was so much easier – not just academic research, but research into how people did things, their stories and experiences. Steve read nearly every article about how to come out to one’s friends. But, no matter how much research he did, he didn’t feel quite ready.

That was, until one day, as he was about to head out for a run, he heard his name on the news that played almost perpetually on the tv. He leaned into the room to see what it was about.

A politician who looked vaguely familiar was on the screen – white hair, clean-cut – “… he’s the kind of hero we need as a role model, you see. A traditional man, from a simpler time. I would much prefer my sons to look up to Captain America than Iron Man – who drinks excessively and has a new woman on his arm every time you see him.”

“I’ll have you know that Pepper and I are going steady!” Tony called from the kitchen. “Although we do have an agreement.” He winked at Bruce, who rolled his eyes.

The news host came back on the screen. “That was Senator Johnson at a press earlier today is leading a small faction of senators against L-17, the proposed nation-wide ban of conversion therapy for minors.”

“Obviously, I support the LGBT+ community,” Johnson said a bit awkwardly. “But I also support parents’ rights to raise their children as they see fit. This law is an infringement of people’s freedom of religion.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. He had definitely heard of this guy before – notoriously homophobic, but tried to keep up the nice, reasonable guy routine.

“Hey, Tony,” he said. “How long does it take to set up a charitable organization?”

 Not very long at all, apparently. After a week of meetings and long hours, Steve found himself with a door between him and a crowd of reporters.

Tony came in a grinned. “Don’t know how you did it, but here are more reporters in there than there were when I announced I was Iron Man.”

“Well, Captain America doesn’t hold a lot of press conferences,” Nat said. “So, they know it’s big.”

Steve smiled, trying to look confident. He’d never liked talking to the press, even back in the day. Then he’d just had to talk about beating the Nazis and try to keep up morale. Now he was about to say something to the whole country that he’d never really said out loud before. He hadn’t really had to come out to the rest of the gang per se. They had kind of figured it out through his determination to get this done as quickly as possible. A kind of silent understanding.

But this had to be him. and maybe he was doing it out of spite – he did wish he could see X’s face – but the more he thought about it, he knew it was bigger than that.

He wanted to make sure that no one in this country had to grow up like he did – hiding.

So, with one last deep breath, a reassuring nod from Bruce, a smile from Nat, and a slap on the back from Tony, he stepped through the door and out in front of the crowd.

Questions exploded at him and he quickly walked over to the mic. “Hey, everyone. Glad you could make it. Uh, I’ll take questions in just a sec.”

The crowd quieted down, and Steve took a moment to clear his head and slow his racing heart. “I am here today to announce the launch of my charitable organization, In the Light. And it will be for the support of LGBT+ teens across the country.

The reporters clamoured with questions again. Steve was sure he heard Johnson’s name thrown around. He gestured for them to quiet and continued. “This is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while, but certain recent events have made me realize that I am sometimes associated with, well, ideas and values I disagree with a lot.” He paused. “Those who yearn for a simpler time, when things were more traditional, must remember that people have always been gay, bi, pan, nonbinary, asexual, all the things people are now. And I’d know, because, well, I’m living proof.” Mutters grew. “I was born in 1914, and,” he paused for a fraction of a second. “I am gay.” 

He stopped again as the crowd burst out with questions and waited patiently for them to quiet down. “And while I don’t want to dwell up the negatives, I do want to be honest. It wasn’t always easy. Sometimes, it really sucked. Everything had to be secret and hidden – and sure, we found ways around it, but that didn’t improve the circumstances. I want to help make sure that no one has to hide like I did.” His voice shook a little and he took a moment to clear his head. “Cause no kid should be ashamed of who they are.”

Satisfied that he had said enough, Steve took questions from the reporters.

“Are you referring to Senator Johnson’s statements last week?”

“I…” Steve’s diplomatic nature almost took over but remembered all the harm Johnson could do. He was really just another bully. “Hearing him connect me with his homophobic views did encourage me to go public with this earlier than I had intended, and one of the organization’s first focuses will be on the law banning conversion therapy and getting it passed. But this is bigger than one bigoted senator – this is about helping the kids who suffer because of people like him.”

After a couple of questions from other reporters, a much younger reporter from a news source he didn’t recognize, asked. “Just wanna say, love this a lot. We stand with you. Could you say trans rights?”

Steve smiled. “Absolutely. Trans rights.”

The kid – because really, it was a kid – grinned.

“Well, I’d say that’s a perfect conclusion for this,” Steve said. “Thank you all so much. Call your reps and tell them to vote for Bill L-17 and donate if you can. Thank you.”

When he got through the door, he saw Nat, Bruce, and Tony all watching the screen. They looked a little teary-eyed.

“Great job, Cap,” Tony said. “Way to stick it to that son of a bitch Johnson… And help the kids too, of course.”

Bruce merely nodded and smiled.

Nat grinned. “Told you they’d be chill with it.” When Steve shot her a look, she added. “The country, I mean.” She paused. “Well, obviously, you’ll get hate. Like a lot. I would recommend staying off the internet for like two weeks at least.”

Steve noticed that his heart rate had gone back to normal and he looked at them. This was good.

 Time passed and he got used to people knowing. The old panicky feeling in his chest when the topic came up subsided. The organization grew. The bill passed – for which Tony threw a party.

Steve got to travel all around the country, opening up shelters and homes for kids who were kicked out or felt unsafe at home. He helped reps in various states push for LGBT+ inclusive sex-ed curriculum.

And he talked to the kids. That was simultaneously the best and worst part. The best because they were all wonderful, and smart, and funny, and brave, and strong. So strong. The worst because of their stories. The stories his so close to home sometimes that hall he could do was give them a hug and tell hem things would get better as he tried not to cry.

He didn’t realize how emotionally draining it was until one day Bruce came to visit him in his hotel in Miami and found him staring at a wall.

“Y’alright there, Cap?” he asked.

“Mmm?” Steve said, not looking away. “Yeah, I’m fine. Long day.”

It took Bruce a little bit to get the truth out of him, but when he did, he just sighed and said, “If you go on like this, sooner or later, you’re gonna burn out and it’ll take months to get back to normal.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“How long had you been staring at that wall before I came in?”

Steve shrugged. “Not long.” When Bruce raised his eyebrows, he continued. “Like twenty minutes. You’re right. But I can’t stop.”

“You don’t have to stop, just don’t push yourself so hard, okay? It’s not just you, there are other people who work for this organization. Like actual therapists who are trained to deal with this. You don’t have to go full hands-off, just, you know, take a break every so often.”

 As it turned out, the break from In the Light would come in the form of Avengers work. Steve left the organization in the hands of some trustee employees as his whole world turned upside down for a while.

And then Bucky was back. Bucky who had been by his side as long as he could remember before everything happened. Bucky who had shared a bed with him since they were teenagers and he had started living with Bucky’s family.

Bucky, who had kissed him in a dark alleyway at age fourteen. His first kiss. For almost as long as they had known each other, they had been a little more than friends.

Bucky, who would arrange dates with all the gay and bi girls he knew so that they could go out together without suspicion. When they went to the movies with Ruth and Sarah, he and Bucky would sit on either side so the girls could sit together in the middle. Then they would stand guard outside a janitor’s closet afterwards talking loudly about the movie. And if worst came to worst and there was any trouble, they could keep the girls safe.

Bucky, who was now living with them once everything had quieted down. And while they got back into a reasonably familiar rhythm, there was a degree of separation.

Neither of them dared to step across that thin line between the platonic and the romantic. After all, it had been so long. Feelings may have changed.

[minaminokyoko]

Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker--A Spoilertastic Review

Boy, oh, boy.

Well, it’s over.

And I don’t know how I feel about it.

Let me start as I always do by saying I have no attachment to Star Wars. It’s always just be something to watch for me, nothing more, nothing less. I am ambiguous and apathetic. I admit that the first time I ever perked up was with The Force Awakens, which I still think is on par with the first two original films in terms of being engrossing. I actually liked it more because Rey and Finn connected with me more than I did with Luke as a kid. Then Last Jedi happened and it derailed the places that I had hoped we were going to go. I didn’t dislike Last Jedi, but I certainly didn’t like it either. I appreciate the risks it took, but I felt it didn’t pull them off and that’s why I had zero expectations for this film. It left a lot of people unsure of the future.

And unfortunately, J. J. Abrams pussed out.

There is no other way to say it. He basically listened to the people who complained about The Last Jedi and catered the characters’ development in order to try to please them. Which is shitty as hell.

That being said, this is an enjoyable movie, imo. It’s a satisfying end to the overall Skywalker saga, I think, but not to its original characters. I’ll explain below.

Overall Grade: C+

Spoilers ahead, as always.

Pros:

-The action is great. Just great. Really engrossing, really fun sequences. Everyone pulls their weight, too, unlike the subplots in Last Jedi. It’s also visually stunning. It’s a polished film, much like what we’ve been enjoying about the Mandolorian, how it integrates real sets with effects instead of just that sterile bluescreen nonsense Disney has been doing recently.

-Reuniting Finn, Rey, and Poe was a fucking Godsend. They are so likable together. It was the whole reason I liked The Force Awakens so much. They’re a good group and you really root for them the entire time. I’m glad they let them be in the story together. It’s the way it should be. They have a ton of chemistry and I would like it very much if they are kicking off an original franchise now that they have ended the Skywalker saga. We’ll see.

-Poe in particular is a lot of fun in this film, which is much needed since he was such a headstrong pain in the Last Jedi. Here he’s back to being just charming and salty and likable as hell. I really enjoyed Isaac finding a path for Poe, because at first he was kind of filling the snarky badass role that Han Solo did but he found his own way and I like him a lot for that same reason. He’s convicted but he’s softened up from how he was in Last Jedi and I think it works great.

-Rey being at the center of the story—and don’t worry, we’ll talk about this below, ugh—even though I highly disagree with the direction they took her in, is still great. I like that they still didn’t listen to the whiny gits who hate a woman being a Jedi. I like that Rey is fighting every second to hold onto her own truth and be her own person. Good for you, girlie. I do hope she gets more stories. She’s a good bean.

-The tribute to Carrie Fisher was nothing short of beautiful. I got choked up. Thank you for honoring her. I miss her so much. I only wish she could have seen it herself. She’s such an inspiration.

-Good pacing. Nothing stagnates and there aren’t any subplots that feel extraneous like in Last Jedi. The film is focused on all the right areas.

-Kylo Ren fucking dies like he deserves. See ya later, Darth Fuckboi. But we’ll also discuss that below.

-The Han Solo cameo caught me waaaaaaaaaaay off-guard. Harrison Ford has made no bones about hating Han Solo, which annoys me because I still think Han is his best performance, and yet he still agreed to cameo, so that was pretty neat. Unexpected for sure. But I’m sure Disney waved a very pretty paycheck and he only had about 10 lines, so why not?

-I did like Rey’s adoption of the Skywalker name. Thank you for giving meaning to that strange title choice. It’s very heartwarming to end on that image of Luke and Leia, together again, smiling fondly at this little girl they adopted. She ended a war and now she can be herself. I loved her creating a gold lightsaber too. It’s very fitting and it’s such a great thing to see. As a female fangirl, it makes my heart sing to know that millions of little girls get to grow up with a female Jedi as the lead in the new franchise.

-It was nice to see Lando again! Good for Billy D.

Cons:

I have three big fucking problems with this movie. They don’t break the entire movie, but they damage it so much that now I get why the movie is getting so many mixed reviews. The things this movie does well, it does well, but the things it fucks up? My God, does it fuck them up. Let’s dig in.

-First huge problem: *gets out loud speaker* KYLO FUCKING REN DID NOT DESERVE A FUCKING REDEMPTION ARC. FUCK. THIS. FUCKING. FUCKBOI. HE DOES NOT DESERVE A REDEMPTION ARC BECAUSE HE IS A GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING SPACE NAZI AND HIS ACTIONS DO NOT AT ALL WARRANT A KISS FROM REY NOR FORGIVENESS FROM ANYONE. FUCK DARTH FUCKBOI. FUCK ANYONE WHO THINKS HE COULD BE REDEEMED AFTER KILLING HIS FATHER IN COLD BLOOD AND TRYING TO KILL HIS MOTHER AND OH YEAH REMEMBER THE BILLIONS OF DEAD INNOCENT PEOPLE HE KILLED AS A PART OF THE FIRST FUCKING ORDER OH MY GOD THIS IS THE WORST WRITING HOW FUCKING DARE YOU.

Ahem.

This arc did not work in the Last Jedi either and yet here we fucking are. We are in a world that is asking us to forgive a goddamn Space Nazi. It’s so unacceptable. But I shouldn’t be surprised, since this is the same fucking year Hollywood is trying to ask me to feel bad for the goddamn fucking Joker.

Kylo Ren does not and never will deserve a fucking redemption arc. He willfully slaughtered billions of people. Billions. Fuck you for asking me to care about him. Fuck you for that disgusting kiss. He is an abuser and Rey has not shown any romantic interest in him whatsoever up until this point. I can’t fucking believe they pandered to the fucking gross ass Reylo fans. And yes, fight me, I don’t care, Reylo is fucking problematic as hell and that was the most forced bullshit I’ve ever seen in my life. Go to hell.

-Second huge problem: retconning Rey’s backstory made me fucking furious. It was the one fucking thing I didn’t want J. J. to mess with and not only did he mess with it, he went with the most illogical fucking method to make Rey’s lineage “important.” Say what you want about the Last Jedi but the thing that worked best was Rey’s parents being fucking nobodies who sold her off. That was a great story element. It reinforces the very important idea that you are who you choose to be, to quote the immortal words of The Iron Giant. Where you came from does not fucking matter. Your blood does not matter. You are the person that you want to be and that’s how you should live your life, with choices that are important to who you are, not where you came from. They backtracked just to pay lip service to the originals for no reason and because they got too scared to color outside of the lines.

-Third huge problem: Palpatine’s retconned inclusion in the story. There is no way you can convince me that old ass Palpatine crawled on top of a woman and made a baby. It does not fit at all. It’s just stupid, stupid crap and I hate it with my entire soul. I want to slap whoever the hell wrote it. Not only does the Palpatine bullshit make no narrative sense, it’s a straight up retconned bullshit plothole. I defer to the experts, but from what I remember, there was no indication he was still alive in the previous films. It overshadows what was a promising story and it derails so much for her fucking character to have this useless lineage garbage that doesn’t work on any level. There was no reason to crawl back to Palpatine when Last Jedi felt as if it was leading towards Kylo fulling stepping into the Big Bad role and Rey rejecting his stalker, abusive shit to be the Jedi she wanted and needed to be.

-Continuing the “maybe Rey is secretly evil” bullshit from the last movie. I hated this in Last Jedi too. Rey shows absolutely no signs of being evil. Ever. At most, she loses her temper, but that’s it. Normal good people can lose their temper. The movie constantly keeps saying maybe she’s bad but her actions are universally good, kind, brave, and helpful, so why the hell did they pursue this nonsense at all? It’s clear that Rey is virtuous. The First Order has done nothing but oppress her and kill innocent people, so why the hell would she ever entertain the thought of joining them? It’s so pointless. The only time it even made a little sense was when Palpatine said she could save her friends by commanding the Final Order and even then it was a fucking stretch. Christ, I hate it when the writing is forcing something that does not match the character’s actions. Good job with the Force vision, by the way. Every single non-stupid person knew it was going to be a Force vision when we saw it in the trailer, you cliché bastards. They were wasting everyone’s time with this and they should be ashamed of themselves.

-Not going anywhere with Finn telling Rey how he felt. Finn in general was still sort of not as important overall as I want him to be, but we’ll see if that changes if their stories continue past the Skywalker saga. Either way, the attention has constantly been shifted away from Finn and Rey and it’s very frustrating because their friendship is so endearing. Whether you ship it or not, it’s an important relationship and I wish they had spent more time on it instead of having him fret after her constantly. Sigh.

I probably need to keep marinating on this film. There’s a lot to drink in. As I said, I’m not sure how I feel, since the good is really good, but the bad is really bad. It feels like it’s not good enough for a B grade, but it’s better than a C grade, like I need a letter between these two. It could’ve been done so much better, but it also could have been done much worse. I definitely like it better than Last Jedi, but it’s not exactly good either. It’s a trouble film. It’s a fun film. It’s just…a lot of things. I would say that the scale makes it satisfying as a closing statement to the saga, but not for the individual characters. Rey’s derailment due to Darth Fuckboi is a huge disservice, so while I think people are overreacting, I get why they’re angry at the film, especially for the three things I noted. It truly seems to be a film split right down the center in terms of good/bad. That’s all I can say for now.

[bespangeled]

Child Prison Profits

So I decided to do a little research into the $750/day figure I’d heard a private company was charging the US government per each detained migrant child. I wanted to, with my own eyes and brain,

1. verify this figure was accurate

2. verify it was indeed a private company instead of a non-profit charging this, if true, as both have managed these detention centers (not that it really matters, ultimately, but stay with me);

3. try to figure out where this per diem sum — more than my monthly mortgage — was going, if not to even buy these tortured children toothbrushes and soap, which are about the cheapest basic necessities on the market, and which no individual has to replace every day.

$750/person A DAY should cover a lot of necessities, right? Right. So where the hell is all this money going? This can’t be true...

Well here’s what I found:

1. Yes, it’s a private company called Comprehensive Health Services (a subsidiary of Caliburn International). CHS operates the largest child migrant detention center, which is in FL and was already getting horrible press — especially from local FL papers — last year. But that didn’t matter, because CHS recently opened up a few more child prisons in TX, as it snagged a new government contract, despite many documented concerns about conditions there.

2. $750/day per child is an accurate sum of CHS’s CLAIMED operating costs, and what our federal tax dollars are paying for. A sum that was agreed to upon award of the contract. In fact, it was actually on the record as $775 last summer.

3. So where is this money going, you wonder, if not to soap and toothbrushes? Yeah, I did too, and it was quite easy to dig up. CHS, via Caliburn, is controlled by the private equity firm DC Capital Partners. For those of you who don’t know how private equity firms work, look it up, or ask me in the comments.

4. While I would not be able to find out vested shareholders in the DCCP portfolio, we do not have to assume they’re making some nice returns on these CHS operations and government contracts that line their pockets instead of covering even basic human needs for children. That’s clear, because why would a private company keep their costs down so low that they completely disregard humanity, even though they say they’re experts in “healthcare?”

PROFIT. FOR THEIR PRIVATE INVESTORS.

5. While I can’t name for you the private investors getting rich off of this humanitarian crisis, I can name for you members of the advisory board of DCCP, which approves everything in the portfolio.

First up: Trump’s former Chief of Staff, John Kelly, who was named to the board LAST MONTH, and photographed riding a golf cart into a CHS child prison. So with his own eyes, he saw the conditions there. And he was cool with it all, because hey, there’s money to be made for his rich investor friends, and maybe even himself! Who knows! Can’t say for sure, so feel free to reasonably assume what you wish. I’m just stating facts here.

Coincidentally, prior to joining Trump in the WH, he was also a paid lobbyist for DCCP. Hmmmm...

6. So next up on the DCCP board: Richard L. Armitage, former U.S. deputy secretary of state; Michael Corbin; former ambassador to the United Arab Emirates; Michael V. Hayden, former director of the Central Intelligence Agency and of the National Security Agency; Donald M. Kerr Jr., former deputy director of science and technology at the CIA; Anthony C. Zinni, former commander-in-chief of the U.S. Central Command and former U.S. Envoy to the Middle East; and Stephen F. Loftus, former director of the Office of the Budget for the United States Navy.

Are y’all seeing any patterns here?

7. Michael Hayden, last June, said on the record he sees “commonality” between Nazi Germany’s separation of children at concentration camps and the Trump administration policy that is forcing children to be separated from their parents at the U.S.-Mexico border.

"I know we’re not Nazi Germany, alright. But there is a commonality there, and a fear on my part ... We have standards we have to live up to,” Hayden told CNN’s “New Day.”

It appears he left those standards at the boardroom door, along with many other individuals that dance with greed and corruption on the line of the private and public sectors COMPLETELY UNCHECKED.

8. Last month, the same month Kelly got his new gig, the government awarded CHS a brand new, hush-hush contract worth $341 million, even though there had been tons of pressure to close it due to its conditions.

THERE WAS NO COMPETITIVE BIDDING FOR THE CONTRACT, and it happened under the radar.

9. Just two months before this, in March, CHS/Caliburn cancelled its IPO after registering with the SEC to sell $100m public shares. The CEO cited “market forces,” yet made it clear the company was thriving and growing.

——————

I’ll leave you to come to your own conclusions about all of this, or do more research. And I’ll post a ton of sources in the comments for those who actually think this administration is “draining the swamp,” or who want to debate the semantics of whether these ”centers” can reasonably be called child concentration camps or not without offending some non-brown people.

And for those of you who think children don’t deserve the most basic human rights because they’re not American: There’s a special place in hell for you, and I imagine hell to be a whole lot like this situation.

For those of you who are cool lining the pockets of private citizens in DC with YOUR tax dollars while dirty, hungry, sick children live imprisoned and stacked in cages without even a dime of your money going to pay for soap and toothbrushes for these kids like it was supposed to: I’m ashamed to share this country with you as legal citizens, and I think you’re disgustingly dumb. We failed you, too, but at least you got to go to school when you were a kid, and didn’t spend childhood dying in a cage.

America, NONE OF THIS IS OK. WAKE UP.

——————

FRIDAY NIGHT UPDATE (!!)

1. As mentioned upon writing this, I originally posted my sources at the beginning of the comments thread at time of publishing -- before it became a large discussion. For your convenience and further reading, I am now moving my sources here + some extra homework for everyone to do (no particular order):

https://www.bloomberg.com/profile/company/CLBR:US https://www.miamiherald.com/…/immigra…/article229744049.html https://www.cbsnews.com/…/john-kelly-joins-board-of-calibu…/ https://news.littlesis.org/…/wall-street-banks-former-def…/… https://thehill.com/…/392727-hayden-sees-commonality-betwee… https://www.npr.org/…/florida-shelter-is-scrutinized-for-th… https://www.nytimes.com/…/migrant-shelters-border-crossing.… https://heavy.com/news/2019/05/caliburn-international/… https://www.thedailybeast.com/doj-is-investigating-whether-… https://thebaffler.com/…/retirement-brought-to-you-by-priso… https://www.floridatoday.com/…/cape-canaveral-de…/717375002/ https://www.chsmedical.com/compliance

The people have spoken, so hope that helps you all wrap your minds around this in a more complete and credible way. Thank you to all who have participated in civil dialogue and shared this post. Let's keep it constructive, as we do not need to be even more destructive than the current situation.

2. THE POST IS ALREADY PUBLIC + SHAREABLE. Please do not ask me if you can share it -- I made it public, which is why you can see it. You should be able to share the original version. If you can't, refresh your app, run your updates or make sure you aren't still viewing a friend's protected share of the original itself. There is no possible way I can instruct all individuals on how to share it -- but I appreciate all of you who are moved by these words, and want to raise awareness about this distressing situation.

3. Your concern has given me hope. Do your homework. Look into your group investment portfolios, pensions, etc. Know where your money is invested. Call your legislators. Do anything but freak out to the point of being unproductive and histrionic. DO ANYTHING BUT BE AWFUL TO EACH OTHER.

Thank you. We are in this together.

[ladyninasayers-ish]

So I decided to do a little research into the $750/day figure I’d heard a private company was charging the US government per each detained migrant child. I wanted to, with my own eyes and brain, 1. verify this figure was accurate; 2. verify it was indeed a private company instead of a non-profit charging this, if true, as both have managed these detention centers (not that it really matters, ultimately, but stay with me); 3. try to figure out where this per diem sum — more than my monthly mortgage — was going, if not to even buy these tortured children toothbrushes and soap, which are about the cheapest basic necessities on the market, and which no individual has to replace every day.

$750/person A DAY should cover a lot of necessities, right? Right. So where the hell is all this money going? This can’t be true...

Well here’s what I found:

1. Yes, it’s a private company called Comprehensive Health Services (a subsidiary of Caliburn International). CHS operates the largest child migrant detention center, which is in FL and was already getting horrible press — especially from local FL papers — last year. But that didn’t matter, because CHS recently opened up a few more child prisons in TX, as it snagged a new government contract, despite many documented concerns about conditions there.

2. $750/day per child is an accurate sum of CHS’s CLAIMED operating costs, and what our federal tax dollars are paying for. A sum that was agreed to upon award of the contract. In fact, it was actually on the record as $775 last summer.

3. So where is this money going, you wonder, if not to soap and toothbrushes? Yeah, I did too, and it was quite easy to dig up. CHS, via Caliburn, is controlled by the private equity firm DC Capital Partners. For those of you who don’t know how private equity firms work, look it up, or ask me in the comments.

4. While I would not be able to find out vested shareholders in the DCCP portfolio, we do not have to assume they’re making some nice returns on these CHS operations and government contracts that line their pockets instead of covering even basic human needs for children. That’s clear, because why would a private company keep their costs down so low that they completely disregard humanity, even though they say they’re experts in “healthcare?”

PROFIT. FOR THEIR PRIVATE INVESTORS.

5. While I can’t name for you the private investors getting rich off of this humanitarian crisis, I can name for you members of the advisory board of DCCP, which approves everything in the portfolio.

First up: Trump’s former Chief of Staff, John Kelly, who was named to the board LAST MONTH, and photographed riding a golf cart into a CHS child prison. So with his own eyes, he saw the conditions there. And he was cool with it all, because hey, there’s money to be made for his rich investor friends, and maybe even himself! Who knows! Can’t say for sure, so feel free to reasonably assume what you wish. I’m just stating facts here.

Coincidentally, prior to joining Trump in the WH, he was also a paid lobbyist for DCCP. Hmmmm...

6. So next up on the DCCP board: Richard L. Armitage, former U.S. deputy secretary of state; Michael Corbin; former ambassador to the United Arab Emirates; Michael V. Hayden, former director of the Central Intelligence Agency and of the National Security Agency; Donald M. Kerr Jr., former deputy director of science and technology at the CIA; Anthony C. Zinni, former commander-in-chief of the U.S. Central Command and former U.S. Envoy to the Middle East; and Stephen F. Loftus, former director of the Office of the Budget for the United States Navy.

Are y’all seeing any patterns here?

7. Michael Hayden, last June, said on the record he sees “commonality” between Nazi Germany’s separation of children at concentration camps and the Trump administration policy that is forcing children to be separated from their parents at the U.S.-Mexico border.

"I know we’re not Nazi Germany, alright. But there is a commonality there, and a fear on my part ... We have standards we have to live up to,” Hayden told CNN’s “New Day.”

It appears he left those standards at the boardroom door, along with many other individuals that dance with greed and corruption on the line of the private and public sectors COMPLETELY UNCHECKED.

8. Last month, the same month Kelly got his new gig, the government awarded CHS a brand new, hush-hush contract worth $341 million, even though there had been tons of pressure to close it due to its conditions.

THERE WAS NO COMPETITIVE BIDDING FOR THE CONTRACT, and it happened under the radar.

9. Just two months before this, in March, CHS/Caliburn cancelled its IPO after registering with the SEC to sell $100m public shares. The CEO cited “market forces,” yet made it clear the company was thriving and growing.

——————

I’ll leave you to come to your own conclusions about all of this, or do more research. And I’ll post a ton of sources in the comments for those who actually think this administration is “draining the swamp,” or who want to debate the semantics of whether these ”centers” can reasonably be called child concentration camps or not without offending some non-brown people.

And for those of you who think children don’t deserve the most basic human rights because they’re not American: There’s a special place in hell for you, and I imagine hell to be a whole lot like this situation.

For those of you who are cool lining the pockets of private citizens in DC with YOUR tax dollars while dirty, hungry, sick children live imprisoned and stacked in cages without even a dime of your money going to pay for soap and toothbrushes for these kids like it was supposed to: I’m ashamed to share this country with you as legal citizens, and I think you’re disgustingly dumb. We failed you, too, but at least you got to go to school when you were a kid, and didn’t spend childhood dying in a cage.

America, NONE OF THIS IS OK. WAKE UP.

——————

FRIDAY NIGHT UPDATE (!!)

1. As mentioned upon writing this, I originally posted my sources at the beginning of the comments thread at time of publishing -- before it became a large discussion. For your convenience and further reading, I am now moving my sources here + some extra homework for everyone to do (no particular order):

https://www.bloomberg.com/profile/company/CLBR:US

https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/immigration/article229744049.html

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/john-kelly-joins-board-of-caliburn-international-company-operating-largest-unaccompanied-migrant-children-shelter/

https://news.littlesis.org/2019/02/13/wall-street-banks-former-defense-officials-looking-to-cash-in-on-child-detentions/?fbclid=IwAR3VPG3U1VqOlHvAus6mZwT5X42YR0946O-9ALtwFh-P-2i8P_ZxLQ8QvwE

https://thehill.com/latino/392727-hayden-sees-commonality-between-zero-tolerance-border-policy-and-nazi-germany?fbclid=IwAR1XcPVz72-f1ju70gdibR-H6-3tI8dOh_9yqfjZtNx-kfQJb6AMuf-gemI

https://www.npr.org/2019/02/13/694175061/florida-shelter-is-scrutinized-for-the-way-it-handles-migrant-children?fbclid=IwAR2Sq1vPOSLs0LPxkI6723lMKipsI12orZWMqxSzw9kqUqqTfM18gpo6xaU

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/21/us/migrant-shelters-border-crossing.html

https://heavy.com/news/2019/05/caliburn-international/?fbclid=IwAR1tsUMn2noGPGWEZxdwOlGwwCj-eDjaIR2I2pCNPd6qgehjCKs0lJpIJuQ

https://www.thedailybeast.com/doj-is-investigating-whether-us-payoffs-to-iraqi-officials-opened-the-door-for-isis?fbclid=IwAR2fXGNE328gvAi6bp7mD7SzKYo5wCY-x2lODw4fKDNrssupd-FGcOfmjnY

https://thebaffler.com/latest/retirement-brought-to-you-by-prisons-inc?fbclid=IwAR3STKgqiMOtVUho4QPq21zXRNovBl8_gvKpFdX3rUWahrOuZmBLJ9pO_m0

https://www.floridatoday.com/story/news/local/2018/06/20/cape-canaveral-detention-center/717375002/

https://www.chsmedical.com/compliance

The people have spoken, so hope that helps you all wrap your minds around this in a more complete and credible way. Thank you to all who have participated in civil dialogue and shared this post. Let's keep it constructive, as we do not need to be even more destructive than the current situation.

2. THE POST IS ALREADY PUBLIC + SHAREABLE. Please do not ask me if you can share it -- I made it public, which is why you can see it. You should be able to share the original version. If you can't, refresh your app, run your updates or make sure you aren't still viewing a friend's protected share of the original itself. There is no possible way I can instruct all individuals on how to share it -- but I appreciate all of you who are moved by these words, and want to raise awareness about this distressing situation.

3. Your concern has given me hope. Do your homework. Look into your group investment portfolios, pensions, etc. Know where your money is invested. Call your legislators. Do anything but freak out to the point of being unproductive and histrionic. DO ANYTHING BUT BE AWFUL TO EACH OTHER.

Thank you. We are in this together.

[candy--heart]

By  Emily Price

So I decided to do a little research into the $750/day figure I’d heard a private company was charging the US government per each detained migrant child. I wanted to, with my own eyes and brain, 1. verify this figure was accurate; 2. verify it was indeed a private company instead of a non-profit charging this, if true, as both have managed these detention centers (not that it really matters, ultimately, but stay with me); 3. try to figure out where this per diem sum — more than my monthly mortgage — was going, if not to even buy these tortured children toothbrushes and soap, which are about the cheapest basic necessities on the market, and which no individual has to replace every day.

$750/person A DAY should cover a lot of necessities, right? Right. So where the hell is all this money going? This can’t be true...

Well here’s what I found:

1. Yes, it’s a private company called Comprehensive Health Services (a subsidiary of Caliburn International). CHS operates the largest child migrant detention center, which is in FL and was already getting horrible press — especially from local FL papers — last year. But that didn’t matter, because CHS recently opened up a few more child prisons in TX, as it snagged a new government contract, despite many documented concerns about conditions there.

2. $750/day per child is an accurate sum of CHS’s CLAIMED operating costs, and what our federal tax dollars are paying for. A sum that was agreed to upon award of the contract. In fact, it was actually on the record as $775 last summer.

3. So where is this money going, you wonder, if not to soap and toothbrushes? Yeah, I did too, and it was quite easy to dig up. CHS, via Caliburn, is controlled by the private equity firm DC Capital Partners. For those of you who don’t know how private equity firms work, look it up, or ask me in the comments.

4. While I would not be able to find out vested shareholders in the DCCP portfolio, we do not have to assume they’re making some nice returns on these CHS operations and government contracts that line their pockets instead of covering even basic human needs for children. That’s clear, because why would a private company keep their costs down so low that they completely disregard humanity, even though they say they’re experts in “healthcare?”

PROFIT. FOR THEIR PRIVATE INVESTORS.

5. While I can’t name for you the private investors getting rich off of this humanitarian crisis, I can name for you members of the advisory board of DCCP, which approves everything in the portfolio.

First up: Trump’s former Chief of Staff, John Kelly, who was named to the board LAST MONTH, and photographed riding a golf cart into a CHS child prison. So with his own eyes, he saw the conditions there. And he was cool with it all, because hey, there’s money to be made for his rich investor friends, and maybe even himself! Who knows! Can’t say for sure, so feel free to reasonably assume what you wish. I’m just stating facts here.

Coincidentally, prior to joining Trump in the WH, he was also a paid lobbyist for DCCP. Hmmmm...

6. So next up on the DCCP board: Richard L. Armitage, former U.S. deputy secretary of state; Michael Corbin; former ambassador to the United Arab Emirates; Michael V. Hayden, former director of the Central Intelligence Agency and of the National Security Agency; Donald M. Kerr Jr., former deputy director of science and technology at the CIA; Anthony C. Zinni, former commander-in-chief of the U.S. Central Command and former U.S. Envoy to the Middle East; and Stephen F. Loftus, former director of the Office of the Budget for the United States Navy.

Are y’all seeing any patterns here?

7. Michael Hayden, last June, said on the record he sees “commonality” between Nazi Germany’s separation of children at concentration camps and the Trump administration policy that is forcing children to be separated from their parents at the U.S.-Mexico border.

"I know we’re not Nazi Germany, alright. But there is a commonality there, and a fear on my part ... We have standards we have to live up to,” Hayden told CNN’s “New Day.”

It appears he left those standards at the boardroom door, along with many other individuals that dance with greed and corruption on the line of the private and public sectors COMPLETELY UNCHECKED.

8. Last month, the same month Kelly got his new gig, the government awarded CHS a brand new, hush-hush contract worth $341 million, even though there had been tons of pressure to close it due to its conditions.

THERE WAS NO COMPETITIVE BIDDING FOR THE CONTRACT, and it happened under the radar.

9. Just two months before this, in March, CHS/Caliburn cancelled its IPO after registering with the SEC to sell $100m public shares. The CEO cited “market forces,” yet made it clear the company was thriving and growing.

——————

I’ll leave you to come to your own conclusions about all of this, or do more research. And I’ll post a ton of sources in the comments for those who actually think this administration is “draining the swamp,” or who want to debate the semantics of whether these ”centers” can reasonably be called child concentration camps or not without offending some non-brown people.

And for those of you who think children don’t deserve the most basic human rights because they’re not American: There’s a special place in hell for you, and I imagine hell to be a whole lot like this situation.

For those of you who are cool lining the pockets of private citizens in DC with YOUR tax dollars while dirty, hungry, sick children live imprisoned and stacked in cages without even a dime of your money going to pay for soap and toothbrushes for these kids like it was supposed to: I’m ashamed to share this country with you as legal citizens, and I think you’re disgustingly dumb. We failed you, too, but at least you got to go to school when you were a kid, and didn’t spend childhood dying in a cage.

America, NONE OF THIS IS OK. WAKE UP.

——————

FRIDAY NIGHT UPDATE (!!)

1. As mentioned upon writing this, I originally posted my sources at the beginning of the comments thread at time of publishing -- before it became a large discussion. For your convenience and further reading, I am now moving my sources here + some extra homework for everyone to do (no particular order):

https://www.bloomberg.com/profile/company/CLBR:US https://www.miamiherald.com/…/immigra…/article229744049.html https://www.cbsnews.com/…/john-kelly-joins-board-of-calibu…/ https://news.littlesis.org/…/wall-street-banks-former-def…/… https://thehill.com/…/392727-hayden-sees-commonality-betwee… https://www.npr.org/…/florida-shelter-is-scrutinized-for-th… https://www.nytimes.com/…/migrant-shelters-border-crossing.… https://heavy.com/news/2019/05/caliburn-international/… https://www.thedailybeast.com/doj-is-investigating-whether-… https://thebaffler.com/…/retirement-brought-to-you-by-priso… https://www.floridatoday.com/…/cape-canaveral-de…/717375002/ https://www.chsmedical.com/compliance

The people have spoken, so hope that helps you all wrap your minds around this in a more complete and credible way. Thank you to all who have participated in civil dialogue and shared this post. Let's keep it constructive, as we do not need to be even more destructive than the current situation.

2. THE POST IS ALREADY PUBLIC + SHAREABLE. Please do not ask me if you can share it -- I made it public, which is why you can see it. You should be able to share the original version. If you can't, refresh your app, run your updates or make sure you aren't still viewing a friend's protected share of the original itself. There is no possible way I can instruct all individuals on how to share it -- but I appreciate all of you who are moved by these words, and want to raise awareness about this distressing situation.

3. Your concern has given me hope. Do your homework. Look into your group investment portfolios, pensions, etc. Know where your money is invested. Call your legislators. Do anything but freak out to the point of being unproductive and histrionic. DO ANYTHING BUT BE AWFUL TO EACH OTHER.

Thank you. We are in this together..

By  Emily Price

[napoleoninrags]

Worth a read for better understanding of the child detention centers and the profiteers behind them. I truly appreciate the research and documentation.

So I decided to do a little research into the $750/day figure I’d heard a private company was charging the US government per each detained migrant child. I wanted to, with my own eyes and brain, 1. verify this figure was accurate; 2. verify it was indeed a private company instead of a non-profit charging this, if true, as both have managed these detention centers (not that it really matters, ultimately, but stay with me); 3. try to figure out where this per diem sum — more than my monthly mortgage — was going, if not to even buy these tortured children toothbrushes and soap, which are about the cheapest basic necessities on the market, and which no individual has to replace every day.

$750/person A DAY should cover a lot of necessities, right? Right. So where the hell is all this money going? This can’t be true...

Well here’s what I found:

1. Yes, it’s a private company called Comprehensive Health Services (a subsidiary of Caliburn International). CHS operates the largest child migrant detention center, which is in FL and was already getting horrible press — especially from local FL papers — last year. But that didn’t matter, because CHS recently opened up a few more child prisons in TX, as it snagged a new government contract, despite many documented concerns about conditions there.

2. $750/day per child is an accurate sum of CHS’s CLAIMED operating costs, and what our federal tax dollars are paying for. A sum that was agreed to upon award of the contract. In fact, it was actually on the record as $775 last summer.

3. So where is this money going, you wonder, if not to soap and toothbrushes? Yeah, I did too, and it was quite easy to dig up. CHS, via Caliburn, is controlled by the private equity firm DC Capital Partners. For those of you who don’t know how private equity firms work, look it up, or ask me in the comments.

4. While I would not be able to find out vested shareholders in the DCCP portfolio, we do not have to assume they’re making some nice returns on these CHS operations and government contracts that line their pockets instead of covering even basic human needs for children. That’s clear, because why would a private company keep their costs down so low that they completely disregard humanity, even though they say they’re experts in “healthcare?”

PROFIT. FOR THEIR PRIVATE INVESTORS.

5. While I can’t name for you the private investors getting rich off of this humanitarian crisis, I can name for you members of the advisory board of DCCP, which approves everything in the portfolio.

First up: Trump’s former Chief of Staff, John Kelly, who was named to the board LAST MONTH, and photographed riding a golf cart into a CHS child prison. So with his own eyes, he saw the conditions there. And he was cool with it all, because hey, there’s money to be made for his rich investor friends, and maybe even himself! Who knows! Can’t say for sure, so feel free to reasonably assume what you wish. I’m just stating facts here.

Coincidentally, prior to joining Trump in the WH, he was also a paid lobbyist for DCCP. Hmmmm...

6. So next up on the DCCP board: Richard L. Armitage, former U.S. deputy secretary of state; Michael Corbin; former ambassador to the United Arab Emirates; Michael V. Hayden, former director of the Central Intelligence Agency and of the National Security Agency; Donald M. Kerr Jr., former deputy director of science and technology at the CIA; Anthony C. Zinni, former commander-in-chief of the U.S. Central Command and former U.S. Envoy to the Middle East; and Stephen F. Loftus, former director of the Office of the Budget for the United States Navy.

Are y’all seeing any patterns here?

7. Michael Hayden, last June, said on the record he sees “commonality” between Nazi Germany’s separation of children at concentration camps and the Trump administration policy that is forcing children to be separated from their parents at the U.S.-Mexico border.

"I know we’re not Nazi Germany, alright. But there is a commonality there, and a fear on my part ... We have standards we have to live up to,” Hayden told CNN’s “New Day.”

It appears he left those standards at the boardroom door, along with many other individuals that dance with greed and corruption on the line of the private and public sectors COMPLETELY UNCHECKED.

8. Last month, the same month Kelly got his new gig, the government awarded CHS a brand new, hush-hush contract worth $341 million, even though there had been tons of pressure to close it due to its conditions.

THERE WAS NO COMPETITIVE BIDDING FOR THE CONTRACT, and it happened under the radar.

9. Just two months before this, in March, CHS/Caliburn cancelled its IPO after registering with the SEC to sell $100m public shares. The CEO cited “market forces,” yet made it clear the company was thriving and growing.

——————

I’ll leave you to come to your own conclusions about all of this, or do more research. And I’ll post a ton of sources in the comments for those who actually think this administration is “draining the swamp,” or who want to debate the semantics of whether these ”centers” can reasonably be called child concentration camps or not without offending some non-brown people.

And for those of you who think children don’t deserve the most basic human rights because they’re not American: There’s a special place in hell for you, and I imagine hell to be a whole lot like this situation.

For those of you who are cool lining the pockets of private citizens in DC with YOUR tax dollars while dirty, hungry, sick children live imprisoned and stacked in cages without even a dime of your money going to pay for soap and toothbrushes for these kids like it was supposed to: I’m ashamed to share this country with you as legal citizens, and I think you’re disgustingly dumb. We failed you, too, but at least you got to go to school when you were a kid, and didn’t spend childhood dying in a cage.

America, NONE OF THIS IS OK. WAKE UP.

——————

FRIDAY NIGHT UPDATE (!!)

1. As mentioned upon writing this, I originally posted my sources at the beginning of the comments thread at time of publishing -- before it became a large discussion. For your convenience and further reading, I am now moving my sources here + some extra homework for everyone to do (no particular order):

https://www.bloomberg.com/profile/company/CLBR:US

https://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/immigration/article229744049.html

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/john-kelly-joins-board-of-caliburn-international-company-operating-largest-unaccompanied-migrant-children-shelter/

https://news.littlesis.org/2019/02/13/wall-street-banks-former-defense-officials-looking-to-cash-in-on-child-detentions/?fbclid=IwAR3VPG3U1VqOlHvAus6mZwT5X42YR0946O-9ALtwFh-P-2i8P_ZxLQ8QvwE

https://thehill.com/latino/392727-hayden-sees-commonality-between-zero-tolerance-border-policy-and-nazi-germany?fbclid=IwAR1XcPVz72-f1ju70gdibR-H6-3tI8dOh_9yqfjZtNx-kfQJb6AMuf-gemI

https://www.npr.org/2019/02/13/694175061/florida-shelter-is-scrutinized-for-the-way-it-handles-migrant-children?fbclid=IwAR2Sq1vPOSLs0LPxkI6723lMKipsI12orZWMqxSzw9kqUqqTfM18gpo6xaU

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/21/us/migrant-shelters-border-crossing.html

https://heavy.com/news/2019/05/caliburn-international/?fbclid=IwAR1tsUMn2noGPGWEZxdwOlGwwCj-eDjaIR2I2pCNPd6qgehjCKs0lJpIJuQ

https://www.thedailybeast.com/doj-is-investigating-whether-us-payoffs-to-iraqi-officials-opened-the-door-for-isis?fbclid=IwAR2fXGNE328gvAi6bp7mD7SzKYo5wCY-x2lODw4fKDNrssupd-FGcOfmjnY

https://thebaffler.com/latest/retirement-brought-to-you-by-prisons-inc?fbclid=IwAR3STKgqiMOtVUho4QPq21zXRNovBl8_gvKpFdX3rUWahrOuZmBLJ9pO_m0

https://www.floridatoday.com/story/news/local/2018/06/20/cape-canaveral-detention-center/717375002/

https://www.chsmedical.com/compliance

The people have spoken, so hope that helps you all wrap your minds around this in a more complete and credible way. Thank you to all who have participated in civil dialogue and shared this post. Let's keep it constructive, as we do not need to be even more destructive than the current situation.

2. THE POST IS ALREADY PUBLIC + SHAREABLE. Please do not ask me if you can share it -- I made it public, which is why you can see it. You should be able to share the original version. If you can't, refresh your app, run your updates or make sure you aren't still viewing a friend's protected share of the original itself. There is no possible way I can instruct all individuals on how to share it -- but I appreciate all of you who are moved by these words, and want to raise awareness about this distressing situation.

3. Your concern has given me hope. Do your homework. Look into your group investment portfolios, pensions, etc. Know where your money is invested. Call your legislators. Do anything but freak out to the point of being unproductive and histrionic. DO ANYTHING BUT BE AWFUL TO EACH OTHER.

Thank you. We are in this together.

[awed-frog]

I only just learned that Christine Nöstlinger died last week. It’s the kind of news that leaves you both sad and slightly incredulous, because even as an adult, it’s hard to see someone like Nöstlinger as a real person. To me, she’ll always be a funny, exotic name on the cover of a book - she was one of my favourite writers when I was a young child, and I don’t think it ever occurred to me that those people - people like Roald Dahl, Astrid Lindgren, Bianca Pitzorno or Michael Ende - actually existed in the real world, and did things as mundane as wear pajamas or brush their teeth. In fact, as I was scrolling through a couple of obituaries today, I was surprised to learn Nöstlinger was Austrian, not Swedish (her books were side by side with Lindgren’s on my shelf) and that if her stories were always delightfully subversive, it’s probably because she grew up in Nazi Austria and experienced that reality first-hand. And while I do understand this is a thing that happens - that people have lives, that they must be born somewhere and do stuff and exist in actual reality - as I read of her death I became a child of eight again; what I found myself mourning was that name on my bookshelf - nothing more. I am slightly ashamed of that, of knowing nothing about this person who brought me so much joy, because over the last few years, I’ve gotten to know some YA writers and I now have a new appreciation of how hard they work and how determined they are to make a difference - not only to make children happy, that is, but also to teach them how to think for themselves, to help them engage with the world around them with full awareness. And so, to honour Christine Nöstlinger and her work, I decided to translate a speech she gave to the Austrian Parliament for the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Mauthausen. I couldn’t find an English version of it, and I think it deserves to be more widely read - especially today.

“I was almost two when the Mauthausen concentration camp was opened, and as the last survivors were freed by American troops, I turned eight. For this reason, you could think this is not a subject I remember hearing about or discussing. 

But I do.

I didn’t know the word Mauthausen, but I was certainly familiar with the expression ‘concentration camp’. I would hear it again and again as my grandma grumbled about the Nazis with the dairywoman or at the grocer’s. That’s when someone would whisper in warning: ‘You’ll get in trouble!’, they’d say; or: ‘You keep talking like that, you’ll end up in a concentration camp!’.

One memory is particularly clear and vivid in my mind: my uncle, my mom’s kid brother, is visiting us. He stands in his SS uniform, tall and broad, very close to my mother, and says: ‘Ella, the Jews are all going to pass through the chimney!’. And my mother, who was much shorter than he was, went red with rage and slapped him across the face. I think that was the first and only time my normally placid mother ever hit someone.

Obviously, I didn’t understand what ‘pass through the chimney’ meant, but I could guess it was something really bad. And that was the day I understood that Mr Fischl had passed through the chimney. 

Mr Fischl was a shoemaker, and he’d had a shop in our alley. He’d resole shoes, repair heels and fix the toe caps so that those who couldn’t afford it wouldn’t have to buy new shoes for their growing children. In 1938, shortly after the Anschluss, my mother witnessed a chilling scene as she was coming home from work: a group of SA soldiers had dragged Mr Fischl out of his shop and they were now forcing him to scrub clean the three white arrows some regime opponents had painted on the wall. A truck was parked in the street, full of grinning SA men. Mr Fischl, on his knees, was surrounded by his amused neighbours. My mother, with a heavy heart, moved to the other side of the street and walked on; she later heard Mr Fischl had been taken away that very day. Soon after those events, an ‘Aryan’ shoemaker took over both Mr Fischl’s shop and his apartment. Nobody ever mentioned Mr Fischl again - nobody, that is, except my mother. Again and again, she’d tell my sister and me what had happened to him. She always felt guilty she hadn’t done anything to stop it, and would always justify that choice to herself by saying: ‘If I hadn’t had children waiting for me at home, I would have gone there and sent those thugs packing!’. 

I was a child then, and when you’re a child you need to see your mother as someone who’s big and strong and powerful - especially if your father has been away in Russia for a long time. I hadn’t known then that adults sometimes lie to themselves. For this reason, I was thoroughly convinced that my mother would indeed have saved Mr Fischl if I had never been born. ‘Where did they take Mr Fischl?’ I asked once, and when my mother answered bluntly ‘To a concentration camp.’, I came to believe his death had been my fault.

This irrational sense of guilt started to fade away when I finally noticed that my mother was neither strong nor powerful: she was small and helpless, and definitely not capable of sending anyone packing.

But not being guilty is not the same as not being responsible. Many people have fully accepted this, and have done their best to bear witness for future generations - they’ve tried to explain where racism once led us; they’ve stood up and spoke out whenever the mood was souring against a minority group. 

Now, that’s not an easy thing to do, and many others were simply too uncomfortable to even try. Instead, those people interfered with this effort to remember, pretended they hadn’t known what was going on, complained about what they themselves had lost in the war, and basked in the self-serving idea of a ‘new beginning’. In order to expedite this ‘new beginning’, our post-war governments were not particularly keen to prosecute those who’d been implicated in Nazi crimes. To be perfectly blunt, those people were simply too many to be locked away. Without them, there would have been no possibility to establish a functioning state. Where on Earth would we have found a sufficient number of teachers and civil servants with a perfectly clean slate soon after the end of the war?

Meanwhile, the efforts to welcome back home those Jews and political opponents who’d managed to flee abroad were lukewarm at best. And there was no question of even discussing how to better integrate the Roma and Sinti communities - or, those among them who’d survived. For all of those reasons, my generation and my children’s generation have grown up in a country in which racism, far from being a bad memory, was instead an ongoing, deep-seated conviction passed down from father to son and from mother to daughter.

And today, not much has changed for the better. The only difference is that racism now presents itself under a different guise. Nobody dares to use (and few to even think) words like ‘master race’, ‘subhuman’, ‘Rassenschande’ and ‘final solution’. There is a strong taboo around them.

No, our current form of racism simply rejects all that is foreign. It sees native people as being threatened by an unsustainable wave of immigration; it insists that foreigners have it easy, and what it means by that is: ‘Those people want to live off us, they want to take something away from us!’.

Those who think these things, those who say them openly when they know others will agree, well - they won’t write racist slogans on the walls, won’t vandalize Jewish tombs, won’t insult a veiled woman, won’t beat up black people or set fire to refugee centres. On the other hand, what they do is giving confidence and justification to the people who actually do all these things; the certainty that they’re acting in everybody’s best interest. They are the fertile ground upon which violence grows. 

And the number of minorities against whom people ‘have something’ (in the best case) or ‘do something’ (in the worst) is already increasing. To the traditional victims of disapproval and aggression, today we can add asylum seekers and economic refugees (no matter where they come from); also people with a migration background (no matter whether they’re Austrian citizens or not). And obviously, people whose skin is a different colour. Today, however, unlike what happened in the Nazi era, total assimilation seems to protect from hostility. And I fear that when we’re talking about ‘more integration’, well - to the large majority of the population, what that really means is ‘assimilation’. We do not want to experience and get used to what is foreign and unknown; we want those who only just arrived to adapt to our traditional way of life, and that will rarely succeed. That’s why we are uneasy with living with people from unfamiliar cultures. For a long time now, our politicians’ solution to this problem has been to wait and hope that the issue will fade as those who’re already here slowly become more tolerant and those who have recently moved here slowly learn how to fit in. Often, these expectations have been met; but just as often they have not.

What we need to do is implement concrete measures: for instance, compulsory kindergarten attendance and all-day schools. We need properly trained teachers so that children who speak a different language at home can learn German quickly and efficiently. That way, as they start school, both their language skills and their chances to have a good education will be the same as those of the native speakers. This is the only way to prevent the emergence of parallel societies in vulnerable neighbourhoods. Better schools are also the only viable tool to weaken the deeply ingrained racism of most of our local population. Let’s remember that those who know nothing will believe everything, even the most outrageous nonsense and the most shameless distortion of facts. 

That said, we still need to understand why so many people prefer to believe racists over those who say that it’s perfectly possible to coexist peacefully (if not to truly share our lives with others). Maybe there is a reason; maybe our skin doesn’t have seven layers, as we all have learned, but eight. Maybe this eighth layer is a ‘civilisation skin’. We are not born with it. It appears and changes as we grow up. Whether it’s thick or thin, well, that depends on how well we look after it. If we don’t care for it properly, it stays thin and tears easily. And what seeps from those wounds may lead to consequences that will again cause us to say: ‘No one ever wanted that’.”

Christine Nöstlinger, 2015

[mademoisellelottchen]

I made a post about this before, so I'll just copy/paste some of that here (cos I should be working instead of putting time into this tbh)

For context: I'm a German Holocaust scholar, and I also studied English, so I know the term crystal night or worse "Kristallnacht" is used in American texts, and when I come uppon an American using this word, I am aware they don't use it as a dog whistle the same way a German speaker would. That being said it still leaves a very sour feeling.

So unfortunately I couldn’t really find any English sources, but there are lots of articles in German, since we stopped using the word decades ago (honestly, it's astouning people only catch up on that now. I was born in the early 90s and even when I was a child we didn't use the word, so it's been a while). As a 90s kid growing up we used the term “Reichspogromnacht”. Some still do, but most Germans now tend to say either “Pogromnacht” or “Novemberpogrome” to avoid the term “Reich” altogether.

We can break “Reichskristallnacht“ down into three words:

Reich – Kristall – Nacht

Here’s what’s problematic about them:

Reich: it was a term used by the Nazis – they basically slapped that word onto everything to make it sound fancy. That’s why most Germans today don’t say Reichspogromnacht anymore either, because we don't want to reproduce Nazi language.

Kristall: the word was used because the shattered glass looked like crystals. It’s a euphemism and minimises the terrors inflicted. It also emphasises the loss of destroyed properties and goods instead of human lives. Some Nazis publicly stated, they were ashamed by what happened, not because they disagreed with it, but because they thought it should’ve been directed more towards the Jews, not their goods, since they could use those just as well (and we all know they later went on to steal Jewish properties).

Nacht: singular word for night. suggests it happened only over one night when in reality it happened over multiple days and nights. Also why we don’t really say Pogromnacht, because it wasn’t just one night.

And that’s why most Germans today agree on the term “Novemberpogrome” - plural form, multiple nights.

The issue I have with Americans consistently still using the term crystal night and even more so when they use the German term for it, because the connotation to the German word are so much worse even, is because this word is such a trigger.

Yes, I understand that for you it's just the word you use, but for Germans it is not only the word to describe the November pogroms, it's a word, used by Nazis and Neo Nazis to implement even more antisemitism over decades later. It is a big trigger, and yes, for you it might not be, but for million Germans and German Jews it very much still is. You can say, for American Jews it's okay to use the word, but for German Jews (any any other Germans targeted by Nazis) it is really not. Especially if you use the German Kristallnacht instead of the English crystal night.

And change doesn't just happen or come to us over night, if we want change we have to start somewhere, so why not start using a different term?

I hope this helped and I’ll add a couple of German sources for those interested:

Regarding terminology

I was recently given the socio-cultural context I needed to understand the pushback against the term “Kristallnacht.” In German speaking countries, the term tends to be used as a fascist dog-whistle. There is other information regarding German-language euphemisms and etymology, but the above information is, I think, the crux of the issue.

I am American, born and raised English-speaking in America, in the US Jewish community, granddaughter of Holocaust refugees, and educated about the Holocaust in a tradition developed by survivors and their kids. Which is to say, that in the United States, “Kristallnacht” is the blanket term used by everyone from primary school teachers to academics to describe the events of November 9-10, 1938. It is not a fascist/neo-Nazi/anti-Semitic dog whistle in this country (we have so, so many others), and is the term the vast majority of people in this country know, if they know about the events of November 9-10, 1938 at all. I believe the same goes for folks in other English-speaking parts of the world.

After giving it a lot of thought, I have decided that I will continue to use the term “Kristallnacht,” because I am an American Jewish person and Holocaust scholar working within the cultural, scholarly, and educational tradition which informs Holocaust education and terminology in this country. 

You can criticize me for US-centricism here, and that wouldn’t be unfair, but I am an American Holocaust scholar, working within the, frankly terrifying, state of Holocaust education and awareness in this country (like honestly you’d be lucky if a random person off the street could tell you what “Kristallnacht” is). 

If and when American educators, museum professionals, academics, and so on move to a different term, I will happily move with them. But for now, this is how it’s gonna be.

Apologies to existing followers for repetitiveness, but this is a pinned post for folks who don’t follow. And big thank you to @xcayleen for helping me understand the socio-political context of German-speaking opposition to the term.