#because it sure is an inconvenience to me

[dianasaurthemelonlord]

“I think you are disgusting Pedophile just because you aren’t like me and want to force you into my religion or out of your homes, Can we still be friends guys :)”

No, no we can’t. Yeah, people who disagree can still get along. I disagree with my friend that Pineapple Pizza is indeed a horrible creation, I don’t think they are something irredeemably evil just because they wear jeans instead of a skirt and have “the wrong genitals” to wear jeans and I dont think “Illegals” are evil either.

There’s difference when you agree about opinions that have no effect on other people, and those that do and show your morality isn’t as Christ-like as you think.

Simple as that. Sure we can disagree about whether Hotdogs or Hamburgers are more fitting for a Barbecue, or whether Coke or Pepsi is better; that kinda shit doesn’t affect me or people I care about in any negative way, not letting my friend or partner get an Abortion when it will save their life, and similar stuff does have negative effects on people. You eat yourself out of house and home on food I find positively revolting but the moment you under the guise of morality and the name of Christ take away my ability to be myself, force my partners to give birth during a pregnancy that will kill them, then look at me with shit-eating grin that will only get get you a fist to the nose from me at the absolute least.

No, we cannot be friends; our moral systems fundamentally oppose each other to the point you at every point at least overlook crimes against humanity when its inconvenient for you to admit and at worst let people die so you can cosplay as a good person. Your opinions on basic human rights expose your morals, and I cannot be friends with such a repugnant, vile creature. The only worse you could get if actively saying any genocide or the institution of Slavery was a good thing. You have my total, burning contempt; but also my pity and sympathy.

[wandixx]

Ok it closes out on me when I tried typing it the first time-

Anyway, I'm a sucker for shock value ones, just so funny to me, so how about M'gann being nervous about introducing bf danny and it happens at an inconvenient time! Could go ghost royalty, ancient of space or anything, hell ghost as dragons would be pretty funny, up to you though!

I'm not sure if I did a good job at this, but I didn't want you to wait too long and real life is keepimg me busier than expected, so for now, it's here. I may continue it one day (I also have different version of fill for this prompt, because neither idea felt right, so if you'd like to see I too, just let me know whatever way is most convenient to you)

This wasn't supposed to happen like that. M'gann didn't have a super detailed plan on how it was supposed to happen, but even her vague (thought and rethought every night) ideas were anything but this. It was supposed to be a calm, low-stakes situation. Maybe even make it look like an accidental meeting, Team in civies hanging out around Happy Harbour, bumping into Danny and then she'd just introduced him, perhaps adding ‘btw, he is my boyfriend’ almost like an afterthought. This seemed like the best possible scenario.

This was also, as expected with the way hero life is, the exact opposite of what actually happened.

Of course, it didn’t start with anything heralding the absolute disaster this day had to become. Kinda accidentally the Team stumbled upon something between a cave and a basement, and in it a group of people, who decided to perform a summoning of a genie so they could… wish for stuff. They didn’t even look like cultists or villains of any sort, just a group of random adults from seemingly very different backgrounds. M’gann had a really hard time understanding what actually brought them together other than their wishes.

Which was actually pretty useful when it came to fighting them, because nobody really cared about their fellow summoner, just trying to save their own butt. She kinda wished more of their opponents were so incompetent.

Though, she spoke too soon because in the excitement of the fight, somehow all of them didn’t realize that one or two of the summoners… actually managed to finish a summoning. It was honestly a little bit embarrassing.

But, it was too late to dwell on all that, as right above the summoning circle appeared a circle in a worryingly familiar shade of green.

Of course, this one time she didn’t have any equipment from Danny, had to be when the Team encountered a ghost.

Ghost in question was a beautiful woman, with long hair covering one of her eyes, in a blue outfit that was related to one of Earth cultures, but M’gann didn’t know which, and a bunch of bracelets on her wrists. Martian could make a hazard guess on who it was, based on the stories Danny told her.

“We don’t have time for explanations, I think I know who this is, if I’m right for the love of everything that’s dear to you, don’t say the word ‘wish’ out loud” she demanded over the Mindlink.

Before she finished, Artemis took silver tape from somewhere and slapped a piece of it over Wally’s mouth. M’gann understood the sentiment but still… it was a little bit too nuclear option.

Desiree (if it was her) didn’t attack anyone, looking a bit confused, giving Team a moment of reprieve to plan and for Kid Flash to make sure none of the summoners could make whatever wish they wanted either. Also with the use of silver tape. Djinn’s were always tricky.

M'gann used this moment of everyone getting their bearings to curse herself for not bringing any ghost weapons this time. Any other mission, Team or not, she had something on her but today? Today she had nothing.

Excluding the summoning engraved into clips holding her cape but it was kinda last resort. It wouldn't annihilate everything in one mile radius or something but she didn't want to drag Danny there if he was during a test, other ghost fight or something. She knew better than anyone that he didn’t need more distractions.

Conner crashed into a wall right next to her. Artemis seemed to lose her cool when none of her arrows seemed to reach the ghost while Robin was trying to make some counter plans with Kaldur. They couldn't do a thing to Desiree and it was a matter of seconds before she stopped entertaining them and went to the city. It… would end badly, most likely. Danny would prefer to get involved before it got that far. Yeah…

She really wished she didn’t have to call.

“I have an idea, cover for me for a minute or two”

“Bold of you to assume we can stop her from anything”

“I believe in you Wally. Just distract her”

“My water attacks seem to be effective weapon against her”

“That’s aster! What do you plan to do, M'gann?”

“Summon another ghost”

She expertly ignored yelling that followed, taking the golden clip off of her cape. She held fabric in place with absentminded use of telekinesis, while she focused on an engraved pattern. Danny's summoning circle wasn't actually too complicated or intricate but she needed to do it just right. And frankly, she just liked looking at it. Physical proof that her boyfriend would be there if she needed it. Drawn representation of who he is, the deepest and truest parts of his soul written in the language that only Universe itself could fully understand.

And it was beautiful. Absolutely incredible. Much better than Desiree's circle, thank you very much.

M’gann dropped to her knees and grabbed leftover chalk from previous summoning and crouched to quickly draw Danny's seal. She had a lot of practice from all the times she doodled it on a whim just to get something of him with her when she missed him the most. She rarely actually summoned him, again, it was difficult to align their schedules, but she was very familiar with the first step.

And it was really easy from there.

She placed the clip in the middle of the circle, shapeshifted one of her nails to get a bit of blood on the chalk and leaned back.

After a careful, deep breath, she started an incantation, putting as much power in her voice as she could.

“I call upon you guard of Amity Park, I call upon you dearest child of the Ice, I call upon you one favored by the Time, I call upon you vanquisher of the Fear, I call upon you subduer of the King, I call upon you defender and the guide, I call upon Phantom, both worlds beloved child”

Circle erupted in green light, putting a momentary pause to the fight. M’gann was still blinking spots away when a figure flung itself out of the summoning circle, right at the Desiree.

“What the fuck?!”

Only after the first punch was thrown did Danny turn back to her, with his usual, somehow both gallant and bashful smile, that without fault made her knees get a little weaker. She smiled back.

“Hello Starlight” he greeted, sounding almost casual.

“Starlight?”

“Hi Angel. Nice of you to drop by” she answered in the same manner. Wally tried to yell from behind the duck tape.

“Angel?! M'gann, who is he? Who is she?!”

“I will always come if you call” he said without any doubt, suddenly as serious as if he was sharing information that could break or make the world.

It certainly worked like that to her world. She actually melted a little on the inside.

“I know”

“Actually, that's kinda cute. I still have no idea who this is, but you go girl”

“I feel like it's not the right time Artemis”

“Not to interrupt… whatever this is, but the other ghost is escaping” Robin cut in “Also, if you want to make out afterwards, please find the room, Batman and Catwoman are traumatizing enough“

Few people snorted, while Danny blushed green. He darted back at Desiree, clearly to escape the embarrassment. M’gann stood up, totally at ease now, that he was there to take care of it.

“Will you need a hand? I don't have any tech but we have a trick or two up our sleeves!” she asked, projecting her voice so it carried through the cavernous basement without yelling.

“I'm good for now but thanks for asking!”

“M’gann, can you give us anything substantial? Who is this? How do you know him?”

“One question at the time and let's wait until he finishes, okay?“

She cut off Mindlink before anyone agreed or protested.

“Miss Martian!”

“Soup time!”

With a blast of light, Desiree got sucked in and Danny landed in front of them with a proud grin.

“My job here is done”

“It truly is. You're getting faster too”

“And thanks to who is that?”

“You”

Danny sent her both an incredulous and playful glare.

“Of course. I miraculously found a ways to not be a mess and don't crash through every wall on my way and–”

“Well, no but–”

“Let me remind you, you're not alone… also who are you dude? And where did the other lady go?” Wally asked, right after ripping the duct tape off his mouth.

“Oh, well, I'm Phantom, I usually work in Amity Park?” he said a bit unsure, as if calling him a protector was under any question. That just wouldn't do.

“He's a hero from Amity Park”

“Thanks love. It's nice to finally meet you all. M talked a lot about you!”

“Can't say same about you, sorry”

“That's fine. I know M was agonizing over how to introduce me in the best way possible. I'm really happy it's finally over,” he paused for a moment, with his brows furrowed “Did I do good? This first impression thing?”

“You're… far less imposing that I personally expected after hearing Miss Martian summoning you, but–”

“M’gann how could you hide this from us?” Conner blurted out quietly, and oh, he sounded so utterly crushed. Everyone fell silent, the playful atmosphere gone as if it had evaporated.

“I never intentionally hid it. It wasn't significant enough to mention at the start and when it became important I felt like I couldn't just drop it at you during lunch or something. I always planned to tell you, there was just never the right time nor right words. I never wanted to hide it.”

“Even just me?”

“Especially you”

“You still should've…”

“Yeah, I should. I'm sorry”

“How long ago have you met?”

“Half a year ago,” Danny said before she managed to answer “It's all kinda my fault actually. I was really set on not getting mixed up with more hero business than I had to back then. I didn't want you or Justice League finding out about me. And when I agreed, it was already really late. I'm sure she'd told you all from the get go if I let her, I'm sorry”

“Why wouldn't you want us to know about you?”

“It's… Probably not the conversation we should have right here, over gagged wannabe cultists.”

“Valid. Let's call the cops and get going. You two have much to explain”

“And you're sitting eight feet apart until you do!”

Danny leaned in to kiss her, quick and playful, before he jumped back at the demanded distance.

“Well, this still went better than at your side”

“Absolutely”

*******

Also, here is some lil arts for a longish wait, sorry again, I hope this story is yours to your expectations

[chaifootsteps]

wr.t. leaks (spoilers, duh!). Viv really chose the most boring and uninspired rendition of Alastor possible, and I could not be more disappointed. The signs were definitely there in Season 1, but if you wanted to you could easily dismiss as sloppy writing and one-time reactions to extraordinary events.

Like, I know no fan is *entitled* to have their particular interpretation of a character be validated, but... really? He's been reduced to the form of a one-dimensional, entitled manchild you might find as the villain of a self-insert fanfiction. Ohhhh nooo luci hurt his feefees and Rosie didn't actually make him an all powerful god, so time to storm out and whine about it. Why make a deal in the first place? Well, duh, he gleefully murdered so many people for trivial inconveniences he didn't wanna end up a tortured soul in Hell. He's basically Valentino, but, on the 'good team', and not a rapist (yet.), or Adam, or Vox, or Mammon, or Stella (frankly, you could even put Stolas in this bucket, if he weren't so unintentionally manipulative). A parody of a threatening character, incapable of creating conflict in any way that doesn't involve waving around a big stick and reminding everyone and the audience who the author blessed with magical power don't you forget it!

I've said this about pilot!fanon!Lucifer too, but, the fandom interpretations are just objectively more interesting. It's not like you can't write a story, or even a good story, about an entitled man drunk on power obsessed with his own image and getting what he thinks he's owed. But why would you 1) choose an enslaved racial minority character (!!!) to do this and 2) do it instead of multiple more compelling options given you already have multiple of this exact character on the cast?

Fanon!Alastor has emotions other than anger and insecure whining, he just can't express them because decades of crawling his way up two different hostile societies have beaten into him never expressing vulnerability. His very smile is symbol of societies like Hell ultimately victimize both the powerful abusers and their victims. Fanon!Alastor had a deal with ___ not because he's drunk on his own desire to murder but because he's vulnerable to the very same weakness and temptation he's learned to exploit in others. Fanon!Alastor has a natural dual conflict with Charlie: Alastor's connections and practical knowledge represent a way of making her dream a reality, at the cost of potentially corrupting her and having her get there in an incorrect/immoral way. And Charlie's dream presents Alastor with a pathway to more power and stability, but unbeknownst to him threatens to unwind his entire psyche in allowing himself to care about something. Fanon!Alastor, far from being image-obsessed with a need to be constantly in the limelight, is capable of being subtle, fading into the background when it benefits him.

I could go on, but I'm just tired. It hurts me that, come release, fan works which I enjoy making and reading will be expected to comply with this. I don't want to write Alastor this way. I don't want to be told I'm writing him 'wrong' for not doing it. I hope that in some way the earlier fanons are preserved and kept alive even as canon is polluted with all this slop.

It's sad and exhausting, for sure. It also doesn't help that the standom will attack you pretty viciously if you have the audacity to prefer the pilot to the actual series.

[rewritingcanon]

hpng characters and how they study for exams because im literally dying rn

rose- academic weapon. need i say more. she has the pomodoro technique down pat. she’s the girl at your local library claiming an entire table with an outlet to herself so she can plug her chunky ass laptop into it and make sure it doesn’t explode on her. she has a sugary iced drink near her at all times but she only takes a sip when she feels she’s deserved it. she eats dinner at 1am because she will not let herself move from her desk until she’s completed the practicals she has laid out in front of her. but trust that she’s losing hair and she’s greasy asf and her short fuse is basically nonexistent. she’s also always randomly sick during exam prep, but her symptoms are never bad enough to warrant a doctor’s visit, it’s only hella inconvenient so she’s chugging neuyrofen and vitamin c like her life’s on the line. no special consideration for her. when she experiences one minor setback (technical malfunction, stubbed her toe, bit her tongue etc) she starts angry crying immediately. just don’t speak to her during exam time, she’ll slap you for breaking her concentration.

albus- exam period what exam period. what are you talking about. these assignments aren’t worth half of his grade what do you mean. you’re telling him the essay was due at 5pm today and not 11:59………………. number one— doesn’t cope well at all. in denial until the twenty-four hour mark before his assignments are due and then will lock in as hard as he can but it is absolutely not a pretty process. so don’t even talk to him about it before then. number two— it’s not like he was relaxing during swotvac (idk the british term for swotvac leave me alone) period, my boy was stressed asf he was just procrastinating. you know when you’re too stressed to do literally anything. albus is a prisoner during exam period free my boy. he can’t study, he can’t relax. when he fucks up because of his poor time management he will psychoanalyse everything about himself and convince himself he’s the stupidest mammal to walk on two legs with five fingers. the mental abuse he puts himself through after submitting the shittiest 2000 word essay is crazy. but he is an affront to the english language (he’s surprisingly alright at exams cuz he’s really good at bulshitting, just don’t make him write anything longform 😭 he can’t back up his impassioned opinions with any evidence ok)

victoire- she is the influencer on studytok that makes studying for eight hours straight look like the most aesthetically pleasing pastime ever. her skin is clean, her hair is washed, her clothes are pressed, her eating and sleeping schedule is routine. she’s so not real.

james- most people think he’s an academic weapon because most people will just see the results he gets at the end of the marking period and conclude he’s hella smart. but if they saw the type of basement-dwelling creature he turns into during the study period they would be horrified. he doesn’t touch grass, he doesn’t leave his room, his lips are chapped asf. in fact his room is growing into a whole new ecosystem to account for the cave-dwelling lifestyle james has going on. he’s got the most psycho routine ever, no sane person would replicate this. he’s so mad-scientist-scribbling-incoherent-observations-at-his-barely-lit-desk-at-midnight core. he never sleeps, he only has intervals of three hour naps so it doesn’t disrupt his sleep inertia. friends can’t text or call or reach out to him— he’s on dnd for the next two weeks. you’d think he died. his siblings think he’s doing cocaine in his room to keep himself up. there is the occasional james sighting around 5am where he may trudge out of his room like a night stalker to make himself tea. his face is gaunt and ghostly and his body is brittle and awkward. don’t speak to him because he’s not going to respond he’s too busy spacing out through the entire exam period. if you do get a word out of him it’ll probably not be in a language understood in this world. best he keep to his room.

hugo- he’s absolutely broke yet the only way he can cope is through impulsive storms of online shopping and doing shopping hauls on his close friends. if he had it his way he’d wind down the night with some dti with the boys but hermione has that boy’s arse glued to the dining chair and she and rose are circling hawks scrutinising all of his answers and then insisting to mark his pracs for him. in all realness they do save him because his marks are always pretty good in the end.

teddy- simply did not study if the subject didn’t appeal to him. one of those woke students that truly believed that marks did not equate to worth. knew he would only feasibly want to pursue careers in the subjects he liked so would prioritise one or two subjects. motivational speaker to all his friends. actually didn’t let exams stop him from living his life. his speeches on the wotters aren’t so successful since a lot of them highkey gaf about their results. rose gets pissed off every time he tries with her. victoire politely ignores him. james is disassociating through the entire speech. he doesn’t even attempt it with percy’s kids. bad luck ted.

lily- if there is a person who is the exact type of person who isn’t built for studying, it’s her. she can get away with it at the start of her schooling, because she is quite smart, but when it gets serious its the biggest humbling ever. she just can’t lock in. she’ll have an exam the next day and suddenly she’s knocking on albus’ door and is willing and wanting to listen to him complain about Life Problem #218. she’s suddenly volunteering to help her mum garden and help her dad cook. she’s going to ‘study sessions’ with friends where she forces them to do anything but study. she’s binge watching shows with james. she’s picking up a new hobby in juggling. she’s attacked by a new hyperfixation she can’t get out of her head and she has to spend 6 hours a day looking at fanart. like girl go study. james will give her the most bomb (but lowkey psycho) tips on how to lock in and she’ll get motivated until she looks at her prac and sees an 8 mark short answer question. like goodnight she’s having a nap. also she eats everything in the fridge, no snacks are safe. fuck the no sugar rule fr. she’s not even hungry she just convinces herself she is so she can do literally anything else besides that 8 mark question waiting for her on her desk in her room.

dominique- would drop out.

scorpius- he’s a fucking freak because he probably likes the stress of exam period 💀 like he probs does feel stress about it, but since he’s always constantly stressed out this isn’t anything new to him. “i get to pour over all my in-detail notes i’ve written on all these subjects through the semester again?? and then do an assessment regarding the in-detail notes i have? yippee!!” his optimism is absolutely not shared by his peers but he’s so oblivious to it. he’s fantasising about what topic questions he’ll get and what his damn body paragraphs are going to be. he’s the guy seated behind you in the exam who unintentionally peer pressures you by requesting for another booklet because he’s written too much in the first. he’s the one joyfully skipping up to you after the test is over and excitedly asking for what you wrote about or what answers you got, and when he shares his responses with you, you realise his points were better or his answers were actually correct. and then he’s emailing his teachers every week asking for when the marks will be released because he’s just so excited. weirdo.

[babysisterallgrowdup]

My boss turned the corner and stepped in front of me as I was taking some clothes to the back room.

“Hi Faith,” my boss said. Her name was Maria, but I called her Ms. Kennedy. “I understand you had to ride the bus today. I’d like to give you a ride home.”

“Oh, that’s ok Ms. Kennedy,” I said. “It’s not bad.”

“I insist Faith,” Ms Kennedy said. “I’ll pick you up at the exit when you get off.”

“Okay, did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all,” Ms Kennedy said. “I’ll see you when you get off.”

“Do you know when that is?” I asked.

“Of course.” Ms. Kennedy walked off, her heels clicking on the tile.

I was worried. It made me uncomfortable to be singled out like that by the boss. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Did she know I had a crush on her? I don’t see how, I’d not told her or anyone else for that matter. How bad could a ride be though?

When I walked out of the exit doors part of me was hoping she wouldn’t be there and I could just hop in the bus and go home.

It there she was, in her Audi, with the top down. She waved at me as she pulled to the curb from her parking spot. She had her cellphone pinched between her shoulder and ear.

“Hey babe,” Ms Kennedy said to whomever she was talking to. “I’m going to be a tad bit late tonight.”

I sat and buckled up as she continued her conversation.

“Yeah, I’m giving that sales associate I was talking about last night a ride home. Won’t be long.”

When she’d ended her conversation and put the phone away, I said, “Thanks for the ride Ms. Kennedy, but I can take the bus if it’s inconvenient. I promise, it’s no trouble.”

“I won’t hear of it, Faith.”

She sped out of the parking lot and started heading toward my house without my having to giver her an address.

Ms. Kennedy leaned back in her seat and drove with her left hand. Her right arm was in the dearest between us. I was surprised when her arm was rubbing against mine. I swore it was deliberate.

She passed the street my father turned on to get to our house and I was about to speak up when she did.

“Don’t be alarmed,” Ms. Kennedy said. “I would like to make a quick stop before I drop you off. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” I said. “Takes forty minutes if I’m on the bus. I got all sorts of time.”

“Good,” she said.

Five minutes later she pulled into a big park. I loved that park with its tall trees and swaths of verdant fields.

She drove to the rear of the park through a winding drive to stop in a circular turn around.

She turned to face me, her leg canted on the seat.

“I would like to talk with you for a minute if you don’t mind.”

I swallowed. I must’ve done something, I thought. She must’ve recognized my wariness.

“No, no, Faith.” She reached out and rubbed my forearm. “Everything is fine. I just wanted to talk with you privately and there is no privacy at the store.”

I gulped. Did someone catch me, knew what I’d been doing in the changing room? Oh shit, I thought, this could be bad.

Ms. Kennedy swallowed. At least I think she did because I saw her beautifully smooth throat work as if she had.

“Faith, it has come to my attention that you might—“ she stopped like she was uncomfortable.

I felt my face growing hot. I must’ve been blushing. By the heat level I might’ve been glowing. Fuck! She knew. I felt tears sting my eyes. I was gonna get fired. I needed the job. It got me out of the house.

I looked at her and felt my chin quiver. Stop! I told myself. Keep it together.

Her eyes were soooo deep brown, gorgeous.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Kennedy,” I said. “It’ll never happen again. It was only the one time. I promise”

Her head cocked to one side, like my dog Scooter does when he doesn’t understand what I’m saying to him.

“Please,” I said. “I love this job. I don’t want to lose it.”

Her warm hand tightened around my forearm.

“Faith. What’re you talking about child.”

I’m no child my mind momentarily raged. I’m old enough to work.

I sniffed. Drew my free hand across my eyes as the hot tears spilled down my cheeks.

“Faith?”

I shook my head. How could I tell this beautiful woman, who was married, I guess, probably had a beautiful family. A perfect life.

How could I tell her, a girl from my side of town, had a crush on her. Fantasized about going down on her. Had even masturbated in the changing room thinking of licking her ass that I’d watched walk done the hallway at work.

“Faith,” Ms. Kennedy said. “I want you to tell me what’s got you so upset.”

“It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“What won’t happen again?” Ms. Kennedy asked. “What’re you talking about?”

“That time in the changing room,” I said with a crack in my voice. “Never again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about child,” Ms. Kennedy said. “Tell me, please.”

“Don’t make me,” I said. “Please.”

Ms. Kennedys brows knit, her eyebrows bunched almost together. I couldn’t tell if it was anger or maybe concern behind her sparkling eyes.

“It’s so embarrassing,” I said.

“Your secret is safe with me, Faith,” Ms Kennedy said. “Trust me.”

I didn’t speak and just concentrated on breathing. Keeping my breathing steady and normal. My face burned like I’d laid in the desert for a week, however that would feel.

“Please.” She said.

“I . . .”

When I didn’t continue, Ms Kennedy shook my forearm gently. “Go on.”

“I masturbated in the changing room,” I said.

Her eyes popped open and she smiled.

“I didn’t know security could be watching.”

Ms. Kennedy threw back her head and laughed.

I sat there stunned. Not the reaction I expected.

Her amusement settled after a long moment.

“Well,” Ms. Kennedy said. “Maybe I’m the one who should be embarrassed.”

I didn’t say anything but I couldn’t take my gaze from her stunning eyes.

“My turn to confess.”

She squirmed in her seat.

“Someone,” she said. “No need to say who. Told me they thought you had a crush on me. They’d noticed you watching me closely, with what she said was a glint in your eye.

“Now look at what I’ve done,” Ms Kennedy said. “I’ve given you a clue who spoke to me. It was a girl. A girl would recognize that hungry look in another girl’s eye.”

I didn’t say anything, nor did I shake my head. It I didn’t wonder if she’d put two and two together and realize who I was fantasizing about.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I started watching you and I did notice that your eyes followed me whenever we were close. And I thought I recognized the look in her gaze.”

She stopped and stared at me. She blushed. “Were you think of me when you were masturbating?”

I broke my eyes from her gaze with some difficulty and stared at my lap. I felt the heat growing in my loins.

I nodded.

She laughed again. Her voice soft, almost musical. She stared at me for a few moments before swallowing again.

“I’m going to take a chance,” she said. “I was planning to anyway. I’ve got a crush on you too, Faith.”

My face shot up and our eyes met.

“That’s right child,” she said. “Obviously I’m risking my career, even my freedom perhaps telling you that. Is that ok?”

I nodded again.

“So.” She leaned in and I saw her blush deepen. “Are you a clot or penetration masturbator?”

My turn to swallow. “Both.”

Her mouth was getting closer to my ear. She whispered. “Which do you prefer?”

“Clit.”

Her hand slid under my skirt and started to stroke the front of my panties. Were she to go lower she would’ve felt that hot moistness that was the fabric guarding my pussy.

Her finger snagged the edge of my cotton panties and pulled them aside enough for her to run her finger tip across the smooth, hairless mound. She slid the finger lower, running along my labia.

Electricity shot through my nervous system and I almost came on the spot. Her lips pressed again my neck.

“Is this what you did in the changing room?”

I couldn’t respond, only breathe and tilt my head back, concentrating on the rules of softball, trying to prolong the deliciousness of her touch before I came all over her hand.

“Mmmmmmm mmm,” Ms. Kennedy purred in my ear. “Cum for me child. I’m your boss and I’m giving you permission to cum.”

I fidgeted and croaked in a hoarse voice. “Ms Kennedy, I don’t want to make a mess on her car seat.”

“Baby,” she purred. “That’s why I got leather seats. Cum. Squirt. Whatever.”

Her finger slid easily into my cunt. I felt the walls of my pussy clamp, even as she removed her finger and began to run my exposed clit.

My hips bucked and I felt the pressure release. My chest compressed and I felt my core clamp and then I heard Ms Kennedy chuckle as I released a stream of fluid that splashed against her seat and sprayed me and her and the inside of the windshield.

As my convulsions subsided, she shifted into gear.

“I can’t take you home covered in cum,” she said. “Your mom and dad will get suspicious. “We’ll go to my house and clean you up first.”

“But your husband,” I gasped.

She laughed that brilliant, light musical laugh of hers.

“That’s my wife sweetie,” she said. “And we have plans for you. We talked about it all night as we fucked one another with our straps. You’re gonna be one happy teenager before we’re through with you.”

As she navigated the park, I slid my fingers into my pussy and stabbed myself until I came again, but this time without the flood.

“Oh yeah,” Ms Kennedy purred. “We’re gonna love you child. Leave some for Jan. She’s gonna want to lap it from the tap.”

I came again as she laughed and steered away from the pedestrians so they wouldn’t see my wanton self, legs spread across the dash, my fingers pounding my smooth pussy, my head thrown back in rapture.

[petervintonjr]

"I was working for Mr. T. L. Kearny on the morning of the day of the election, and did not think of voting until he came out to the stable where I was attending to the horses and advised me to go to the polls and exercise a citizen's privilege."

Good god, people. I sure misjudged a hell of a lot of you; it is obvious more studying is called for. Way more. As in, "lessons-that-may-soon-be-illegal" way more.

Since we're already fresh on the subject of elections, let's get right into it with a look at the life of Thomas Mundy Peterson. Born enslaved in 1826 New Jersey, Peterson and his family were later manumitted upon their owner's passing, and moved to Perth Amboy. Peterson married and worked as a custodian and general handyman at Perth Amboy's very first public school. Active in local politics, at the age of 46 Peterson had been a participant in a local ballot initiative to revise the town's existing charter; in this instance, whether or not to abandon their 1798 charter entirely and reincorporate as a township. (Spoiler alert: they did neither and became a city in 1844.)

On March 30, 1871, less than two months after the ratification of the Fifteenth Amendment, Peterson voted in favor of retaining the town's existing charter --thereby making him the very first Black American to cast a ballot in any kind of post-Civil War election.

But for one unsurprising anecdote about a white voter at the polling place crumpling up their own ballot in disgust at the sight, Peterson's civic action went largely unremarked-upon (in fact Peterson even went on to be elected to the local city council). It was as true then, as it is now, that local elections are where the most immediate consequences happen. But gradually over time, the symbolism and the larger historical impact of Peterson's quiet moment took on much greater national significance. In 1884 the community raised the equivalent of $1800.00 to present Peterson with a medal featuring Abraham Lincoln's profile in recognition of his milestone --this medal is now part of the collection of Xavier University. In 1989 the public school at which Peterson once worked (P.S. No. 1), was renamed after him.

====

And further to the above subject: Fascism is a hell of a drug, people. One really doesn't see it for what it is when it finally arrives --no concept of just what it is that you've invited into your lives, just because eggs are inconveniently pricey or because you'd rather your kids not be exposed to history lessons like this one. Fascism never merely visits; it takes up permanent residence. Our Black brothers and sisters (especially the sisters) understood that deep in their bones prior to the Civil War, during Reconstruction, during Jim Crow, and during the Civil Rights movement. The rest of us need to internalize that, too. The past 400 years aren't "just" Black history, as if it all only belonged to a specific segment of the population. It is our history. All of us; inextricably connected to it. If we don't study it and learn about it; if we pivot to the deliberate ignorance that fascism so gleefully celebrates, then we all lose.

Racism (and all its cousins: anti-Semitism, xenophobia, homophobia, etc.) has been emboldened, running unchecked --to say nothing of truly terrifying old-school misogyny. (And yeah, go look up the word misogynoir if you haven't already). Of more immediate concern we've got... what, 70 days or so? 70 days to recalibrate, retool, get at least some guardrails up. In that time interval, please reach out to one another --check on your communities and keep a close eye on local issues, not unlike Thomas Mundy Peterson. Offer what help you can spare. Lotta desperation and panic floating about; folks are afraid of losing a lot of things in 2025 and beyond --you know, minor trifles like health care, insurance, income, savings, civil rights, autonomy. They're going to be looking for a connection. If studying these Black biographies these past 4+ years has taught me one thing, it is that authoritarianism flourishes when people isolate --whether forced upon them or on one's own. The moment folks break that pattern and start connecting with one another, the bullies proveably take a cautious step back. (Notice I didn't naïvely use the word retreat.) So look out for one another and keep each other afloat; the bullies hate that.

In the meantime for my part I'm going to keep doing the two things I know I am legitimately good at: teaching and drawing. Therefore I'll keep providing this resource until I am forcibly stopped from doing so.

If you're new to this series, start here.

[tj-crochets]

I have some good news and some less good news: Good news: I think I'm probably going to make the giant cuddly Toothless, I can probably get by Joanns tomorrow during the fleece sale and pick up some black fleece.

Less good news: I am probably not going to be able to finish the quilt today like I'd intended to, my electrolytes apparently got even more out of whack than my normal, because in addition to regular muscle cramps and spasms I got the smooth muscle cramps again! 0/10 do not recommend, they finally stopped but I am so sore (as my doc explained it to me a while ago, smooth muscles are the ones around your organs, and normally you can't feel them at all. If they cramp or spasm very badly, you can feel them and they hurt real bad because you are not used to feeling them. I am not a doctor that's just what he told me) Good news: Sonic is my go-to Maximum Sodium meal so I'm going to have Sonic for lunch and see if that fixes me lol

[bumblingbabooshka]

The amount of copium T'Pring is ingesting in this scene is unprecedented and deeply sad especially paired with Spock immediately going "Yeah of course, you know me so well babe." Someone SAVE her. You HAVE to understand. He made out with Chapel IN FRONT OF HER and her response is to immediately rationalize both that action and the clear 'passion' she saw in it - then to have sex with him. HELP HER!!!!

[artanogon]

thinking more about being trans

[wispythreads]

I don't trust North we disagree on literally almost everything why does me attempting to still be a civil human being with the basics of decency lock Markus and her into a romance what the heck

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Still haven't messaged my mom back. And I don't think I'm going to.

[batsplat]

In 1996 Vale raced a rotary-valve 125cc two-stroke that weighed 70kg and was good for 140mph/225kph. In the year he reached his retirement age he raced a 1,000cc four-stroke that weighed nearly 160kg and nudged 220mph/350kph. It is inevitable that such motorcycles need to be ridden in different ways. The essential difference between racing a low-powered bike and a high-powered bike is the speed the rider uses through corners. The best way to achieve fast lap times on a lightweight bike with relatively little horsepower - like a 125 or 250 - is to use as much corner speed as possible, by taking flowing lines through the turns. On the other hand, a 500 or a MotoGP bike has a lot of horsepower (too much, in fact!), which if used correctly has a huge effect on lap times. Therefore Vale had to change the way he attacked corners when he graduated to the premier class in 2000. After his first few races on a 500 he understood that the secret to a fast lap time on a big bike was to focus on corner exit, so he could unleash the engine's power as soon as possible. This required sacrificing corner speed, the gain in acceleration in corner exit more than compensating for the loss of time in the middle of the corner. "You need to go slow mid-corner, then lift up the bike really quickly and give gas when you are on the fatter part of the rear tyre," he said. "If you don't get it right, you're either slow or you crash." The first man to set him right was rival Sete Gibernau. Vale had a lot of crashes during the winter of 1999/2000, because he was trying to ride the bike like it was a 250, using flowing cornering lines on the edge of the tyre. Gibernau told him what to do, but like any keen young racer, Vale ignored the advice and kept falling off. Gibernau was correct, however. The 500 had double the power of a 250 - about 180 horsepower - and a two-stroke engine delivers power and torque in an aggressive and unpredictable way, so it's asking for trouble to swoop through corners on the edge of the tyres and then open the throttle.

Mat Oxley’s Valentino Rossi: All His Races

At the time, I was falling a lot. And for many different reasons. Part of it had to do with my style in 250. In 250cc you can go into a turn bent right over and you can even open the throttle all the way on the turn, accelerating as you go through it. OK, it's not the easiest thing to do but it was possible and many of us had mastered it. You can forget about doing things like that on a 500cc. One of the problems with the 500 is that, at first, you feel totally confident. That's what happened to me. I felt very sure of myself, I pushed ahead, keeping my 250cc style. And, as a result, I kept falling off. It happened in my second test, at Phillip Island. And it was a very bad fall. Gibernau had come up to me before the test and actually warned me: "Look, you bend the bike too much, treat it as if it was a 250cc. You can't do that. You should use your body more rather than bending the bike." "Gee, thanks, yeah, I'll do that..." I replied, not really taking him too seriously. I asked myself, "Who is this Gibernau who thinks he can tell me how to race?" Of course, I paid no attention to him. And that was a big mistake. Two hours later I had a terrible spill. I was going very fast and, all of a sudden, I felt the rear tyre lift itself off the track and the next thing I knew I was flying through the air. It was an incredible flight. When I finally landed it was with the kind of thud I'm sure to remember for a very long time.

Valentino Rossi in his 2005 autobiography, What if I had never tried it

[oidheadh-con-culainn]

reading queer historicals does something to me because the characters are never totally safe but they find ways to be happy anyway. they find people they're safe around. they find ways of living in the world without attracting attention. ways to be happy that will let them exist even amidst a hostile society

and it's... i guess it's encouraging, sort of, when the world feels so hostile. to remember both that there has been progress, and also that we can find ways to be happy even when the world seems determined to make that as hard as possible. that it's possible to endure, and keep existing, and find joy, even when you can never be entirely safe

but

but i want to be safe. i don't want to have to fight to find my own joy. i don't want to have to build a future before i can live in it. i just want to feel safe

[nautilusopus]

people in the tags of that post once again like "what do you mean i can't drive my car into oncoming traffic? look i've made a PERSONAL CHOICE to drive in whatever lane i like and i'm not forcing YOU to do it :) don't be a cop respect my decision"

[qqqqqqqqqqq0]

i did a thing

[mithomite]

me, doing benign weekly compulsive medical checkup: boy am i sure glad i don’t have symptom of deadly thing that runs in my family !!

The Devious Symptom: