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the-fiction-witch · 3 years

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Control P15

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE:BENNY X READER RATING: SWEET AF!!!!

I went and got the door as y/n went to make some coffee I opened the door letting Wisse and Luke into the apartment the three of us muttering about this and that as they headed inside "Hu, benny?" Wisse asks

"Yeah?"

"who's the fat old braud?"

instantly I smirked a little trying not to laugh as she turned around and looked like she was about to murder him "You have a will right Wisse?"

"Yeah why?"

"Becuase... she is gonna kill you" I smirked going to sort the chessboard up

"Come here you little!" she yelped going to try and grab him but I up an arm around her and lifted her off the floor enough she couldn't get out my grip "No benny let me at him!" she complained till I put her down

"Boys, Y/n y/l/n I'm sure you've met before" I told them

"Ohh yeah, Hi y/n" Luke smiled getting himself a seat at the table

"Hu, I didn't recognise you, sorry y/n" wisse smiled "What uhh... what is she doing here?"

"I live here" she argued

"lives here? Ooooooohhh Benny got a girlfriend" Luke laughs

"Yes. I did"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I... I don't have a response to a yes as an answer"

"so shut up"

"You guys actually a couple then?"

"Yep, very happily" Y/n smiled

"Extremely happily" I smiled giving her a kiss

"Lucky dick got the cute girlfriend" Luke sighed

"cute fience" I corrected

"Really? your gonna hitch yourself to him?" Wisse laughed

"Hey!" I complained

"Well, I suppose I have to" she giggled stroking her baby bump

"what!" Luke laughed excitedly

"can you guys not tell?" she laughed

"Awwwwww there's gonna be a tiny baby!" Luke smiled

"why!" wisse complained "why would you let him procreate? I thought we all collectively agreed to not let his genetics get anywhere else?"

".... when did you agree that?" I complained

"Like six Christmas' ago" luke shrugged

"well it's a bit late for that, he's due next month" she smiled

"she" I corrected

"He" she giggled

"Now we playing or not?" Luke asked

"Course, you rest up you need anything you ask okay," I told her so she nodded going to read her book on the chair

I sat playing with the guys a good while, y/n kept out of it mostly reading her chess books on the chair, she would bring drinks and food whenever we needed it even if all of us told her no she should rest baby but she did it anyways, it was getting late and she was getting tried I could tell as she was watching a game her little eyes would sometimes flutter shut, her head sometimes would droop but whenever I blew her a kiss she'd perk up again for a moment or two. "I think it's bed time for mummy. You boys have fun" she smiled as she slowly pushed herself up stroking her bump "Okay, we'll be quiet, you rest up alright" I told her taking her hand "I will" she smiled "Sleep well y/n" wisse smiled "Rest that tiny human growing in your person oven y/n" luke laughed She gave my head a kiss before she slowly walked into the bedroom getting ready for bed I focused on the game for a good while but I couldn't take my eyes off her, the door to our bedroom open just a crack just enough I could still see her, laid on our bed, her head on the pillow, the gentle orange light casgading across her, her hair all over the place, her face so peaceful and sireen, her little nightie holding her so tight where she was growing so much, her book open on her page it fallen on the duvet her hand still holding it the other on the pillow, I rested my head on my hand just watching her sleep so peacefully her bump rising and falling in the covers "Dude I think benny's broke I just checked him." Wisse says "Not broke. He's got a pregnant wifey it's gonna be a distraction. I mean look I can wave a hand in his Face and nothing" luke laughed "Benny? You in there man or have you shut up shop tonight?" "Hu? Ohh sorry guys" I sighed "I think I think I need to turn in too. And I can't leave her all alone she can't sleep without me" I smiled "well finish up another time maybe once baby comes" "Alright, see you around" wisse laughed we all said our goodbyes and they both left so I shut up and went climbing into bed with her "You didn't have to Benny, I could have waited till you-" "Shhhh. You where sleepy. I should have kicked them out hours ago so you could sleep." "But chess-" "Shhh, sleep. You and our baby are more important" "Nothing is more important then chess to you" "You are. And so's baby." I told her "I have to take care of my girls. Besides I was tried too and you know I can't sleep without you either" "Okay Benny if your sure" "Of course I'm sure little lady, now you rest that tummy shouldn't be long now till baby comes"

I woke up softly and gently "Uuummmm good morning little lady, and my sweet little baby" I smiled trying to cuddle her but something was wrong. The bed felt wet. Her body was shaking. Her hand in mine in a death like grip, "Benny! Something's wrong!" She yelled "What! What's wrong!" I asked quickly waking up seeing her she was panicked, sweaty, in alot of pain the sun not even up yet "I think baby's coming" "Baby's coming! Are uhh are you sure?" "I don't know, I couldn't sleep because of my tummy and then I had an accident and now it won't- aaahhhhhh!" "Okay... Okay... Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh pack the bag! I think right? Yes! Pack!" I said trying to remember what the hell I was gonna do getting out the bed and starting to pack her back "what was I meant to pack?" "BENNY!" "I'm sorry y/n I forget" "It's on the list in the fridge. Now hurry up!" She yelled turning to sit on the edge of the bed, I grabbed the list and packed he's a quick bag getting myself dress too "Right next uhh we need to get you to the hospital, but I don't think an ambulance is really worth it, then again I get stuck in traffic, what I'd the car breaka down I can't deliver a baby! What if the ambulance has to stop for baby to be born and then our kiss born in an ambulance? Do I have everything, did you want anything before we go little lady? A drink, some food? A shower? Do your hair maybe?" "Benny... There is currently what feels like a human being with a watermelon sized head trying to force its way out of my Virgina, Get your skinny ass in that car and take me to a fucking doctor now!" "Okay, okay." I nodded realizing how panicked I was I helped her up and out into the car with her bag, I quickly locked up and by the time I got back she was screaming "okay it's all gonna be okay, just try not to focus on the pain" I reassured her "Easy for you to say!" "Right let's get baby to the doctor" "Now!" She screamed putting my car into drive for me almost making us hit a lamppost "Y/n I understand your in-" "BENNY! DRIVE THE FUCKING CAR!" She screamed "Or I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL SHOVE EVER CHESS PIECE YOU OWN UP YOUR ASS!" "Yes dear" I gulped quickly getting the car going

I dropped y/n off and the nurses happily took her, I went and got parked and rushed into the office they directed me to the little seating area where a few other men sat waiting "But I - I promised her I'd be with her" "Sorry we can't allow it she's a six thirteen" "Six thirteen what does that mean?" "I'm sure the doctor will explain later sir please take a seat" I sighed and went taking a seat waiting till one of the other men spoke up "Hey? First?" "Yeah." I answered "It never gets easier kid" he laughs coming to sit in the chair beside me "I just... I wanna be with her you know make sure she's okay" "Hey, she's a fucking lot stronger then you think she is" he laughs "this is our fourth. I always worry about her. At the end she always tells me not to worry" he laughs "Yeah, she's a strong one. I know she is" I smiled "do you know what a six thirteen is?" "Yeah," "Please. I just wanna know" "It means there's been a complication, and everyone non essential has to be kept out for safety" "Something's wrong?" "It could be something small, like breach, or backwards or anything like that" he shurgs "or a c section. They class that as a six thirteen" "Oh God." "Relax it's probably nothing" he says "my boy was a six thirteen. Came out backwards the stupid boy" "Well I guess it's just a waiting game" "Pretty much kid" We sat chatting about this and that for a few hours or so it was getting late now, or early. Not sure which to class or as but everyone would peek up whenever a nurse came around the corner and just as the sun began to peak over the windows a nurse came "Watts?" "Yes!" "Follow me please" she says I nodded and followed her to a little room but she didn't open the door, "baby is born. Happy and healthy. Mummy's doing fine if a little stressed we'll start getting sorted to get her home congratulations" she smiled before she headed off, I was excited happily opening the door to the little hospital room the blinds open letting the sweet purple, orange and gold of the sunrise flood the room, and there on the bed was y/n sat up a little shaken her hair a mess, a smile on her face with a job I'd never seen before, and in her arms wrapped up in a little yellow blanket was a tiny little baby only moments old. The baby was giggling ever so softly as y/n stroked the baby's skin I'd never seen something so beautiful I wanted to cry "Hello y/n" "Hello Benny" she smiled "come" she smiled patting the little chair beside the bed, I smiled going over and sitting with her both of them bathed in the rays of the sunrise "You okay?" "Ummmm. Tried" "I can guess so" I laughed "they wouldn't let me in" "They said because of things I forget what they said but she's happy and healthy" "She?" "She. Benny meet your daughter" she smiled letting me see the cute little squishy face of our little girl, she was so cute and beautiful I almost cried "A daughter. I have a daughter. Hi little one, uhh nice to meet you" I smiled shaking her tiny hand "God damn it Benny, you don't have to introduce yourself to her" "She doesn't know who I am yet, I'm just being a gentleman about it" I said giving her little head a kiss which made her giggle more "are you okay?" "Fine Benny" she laughed so I gave her a kiss too "she has her daddies." "She does. But I'm sure she'll grow up and be as beautiful as her mummy" "In sure she will. Thought if any names for her?" "I get to name her?" "Umm you won. You where right about it being a girl. You can name her" she smiled I looked at our little girl thinking of all the girls names I knew many of them I didn't want to use as I'd slept with girls named that and that would be a werid thing but the more I looked at her the more ideas went quickly though my mind until, I saw the sun just shimmer a little the rays of gold, purple and red across the room from the sun as it rose and it casgading across her little face "Aurora" I smiled "Aurora. I like it" she smiled "I think it suits her" "It does. Little aurora" "Little aurora watts" "Aurora y/l/n. Not your wife yet Benny" "You would be if someone would get the wedding sorted and let me marry her already" I laughed "I know, but maybe aurora watts so she gets used to it" "Good, she was like this close to being named scillian you know that right?" "I know I'm surprised it's not chess related or are you saving that for any boys" "Kinda, plus not alot of chessy girls names" "That and scillian is our sex safe word" "Yeah that too" I laughed "so you ready to get aurora home?" "Very ready Benny"

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arden-in-the-garden · 4 years

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Racism on PokeFarm Q

So! This is gonna be a long post, so i’ll be putting all of the content below a read more cut. The gist is that the staff of PokeFarm Q are racist and do not give a single fuck about the Indigenous communities, and explicitly stated they will not even attempt to do anything about cultural appropriation. In the past staff members have also voiced their lack of support for the BLM movement. I’ve gathered transcripts and screenshots from the conversation between myself and the member that started this and between myself and staff.

tw for below the cut: ment. of r*pe, ment. of cannibalism, the word wendig*ag repeatedly uncensored, racism ment., cultural appropriation ment.

This morning I came across a user by the name of TrüêWêndïgø, and they were messaged in regards to their username

ArdenInTheGarden 09/Jun/2020 08:13:03 (1 hour ago) Hey, are you Alqonquin/Anishinaabe? TrüêWêndïgø 09/Jun/2020 08:17:17 (1 hour ago) I am an Algonquian Wendigo if that is what you are asking. Why? ArdenInTheGarden 09/Jun/2020 08:20:10 (1 hour ago) Figured I'd ask. There a lot of non-Natives that use the term for Wendig*ag trivially, and I promised nA friends that if I saw it I'd check on it, and to help try and deter its usage TrüêWêndïgø 09/Jun/2020 08:23:39 (1 hour ago) I am kinda obsessed with the Wendigo, so I read about them a lot. I am Australian, so if I have gotten this wrong in any way, I would like to correct myself. I hope I am using it correctly ArdenInTheGarden 09/Jun/2020 08:26:59 (1 hour ago) Ahh, let me help you out then! They're, like, NOT something to mess with. They're feared, through and through, to the point where speaking or even writing the name is forbidden (which is why it's usually censored). They're not able to be befriended or tamed or worked with; they are the pure form of evil distilled into a physical being, often from greed or due to cannibalism! They're definitely not the kind of thing to be revered or messed with, they're just evil, straight up. I don't think you can change your username, but I'd discourage you from using it in the future, especially as a non-Native TrüêWêndïgø 09/Jun/2020 08:30:46 (1 hour ago) I have already accepted death because I got a wendigo oc. I only discovered the creature becuase my oc was made before I learnt about them. My unusual deerman with the taut skin and a thirst for blood. I apologise if I upset anyone with my username. ArdenInTheGarden 09/Jun/2020 08:34:52 (56 minutes ago) Fwiw the, like, "fanon" (not the right term but you know what I mean?) depiction of them has no root in any of the beliefs? No one really knows where that came from (except, like, white people trying to steal things that aren't theirs and mainstream religious figures for their own gain) So your OC can very well just be an angry bloodthirsty deer man that isn't infringing on First Nations beliefs and appropriating from a closed belief system not open to outsiders. I doubt you meant any harm, but I'd STRONGLY encourage you to not use the term or name in the future TrüêWêndïgø 09/Jun/2020 08:43:15 (47 minutes ago) I mean, I didn't try to steal anything, I just think the creature is awesome, kinda like the Sirenhead thing. I love to learn about mythology and legends. I think the only problem is that I've used the term Wendigo too much, and once again, I am sorry for that. I respect wishes and all that, but me learning about the creature and having my oc being a Wendigo kinda helped me through bad times. I like to create art [stories or drawings] keeps me happy. Again, sorry, but I would like to continue using the term. Only because of an oc. I understand how disresptectful I am, and I understand if you don't like this, but I'm not trying to upset anyone. ArdenInTheGarden 09/Jun/2020 08:50:10 (40 minutes ago) "but please sir, that's my comfort cultural appropriation and misuse of First Nations beliefs". Like,,,yeah, it is really disrespectful. You're using it wrong, and it's not open to you, and you can't use it. Comparing it to Sirenhead is also REALLY disrespectful? Like, you're taking a sacred piece of a belief system and equating it to a shitty Internet monster :/ I obviously can't force you but you're wrong and you're well aware that you are, and you're being selfish and unkind :// you need to stop, and I've been really nice about this and handling it because I know Natives are tired of having to do it, but please do not mistake my kindness and composure as a sign you can continue because you cannot.

Unfortunately I was unable to get screenshots of this conversation before my account was locked. Screenshots of the rest are available.

I filed a support ticket with the staff regarding it, which received no response

About an hour later I was greeted with this error, stating my account had been locked indefinitely for harassment and violation of the PG rule

I filed a second support ticket in order to appeal my account being locked and give an explanation to the staff. The following is the conversation between myself and Eltafez

It's 4:30 in the morning so forgive my ineloquence.

My language might have been slightly harsh in PMs with TrueWend*go, but they were violating the rules and have an inappropriate username and are flagrantly disregarding the racist roots their actions have. The Native community in every part of the world has faced consistent harassment and dealt with their culture being slandered, torn apart, erased, and what was left being stolen by people to use as a fun culture symbol or as a "sPoOkY mYtH". They are glorifying a being that is rooted entirely in evil and is the embodiment of the worst a person is capable of. They have created an identity around a creature of cannibalism, of r*pe, of greed, and of violence. They disregarded the polite explanations of the ramifications of their actions and the benefit of the doubt that they did not know what they were doing. By locking my account for this, you are sending the clear message that you care more for not rocking the boat than defending Native belief systems. As a US resident, I am already witnessing the brutal effects of silencing those speaking out against racism. You are aligning yourselves with oppressors. I will agree that my defense was perhaps overzealous. Moderators on many other sites I have been on have failed entirely in the past to defend the Native community and I was frightened this case would be the same and reacted strongly. I am still afraid this is the case as I am the one punished and they are, at last checked, still free to continue. Please unlock my account. If I am unavailable on the PMs, I can be reached at [REDACTED] for further discussion.

Eltafez — 09/Jun/2020 12:21 The staff of PFQ do not condone or support any form of racism. In fact, the team is comprised of people living all over the world. Quite a few among us (myself included) are from a different culture and/or race. You're offended by a name - I'd like to counter that by saying you're offending the staff team by accusing us of something we're not. Cultural appropriation is something we cannot (and will not) enforce due to the sheer magnitude of it. You see books, movies, games - everywhere really, that handle mythical creatures and even real gods (take Egypt, Greece, Rome, ... to name a few). Like human beings, they develop and change over time. We can't lock someone for having the name Anubis or Iuno because there once existed a civilization that coined these names or terms. There's a public beach called "Wendigo Beach Resort" - if the term is so inappropriate, then why is it called that? The user you reported has done nothing wrong - our rules, as they're written, have not been broken. The site is British and it follows British laws. You, however, have broken them by harassing the user and mentioning words that are actually inappropriate in the English language. We are fine with people spreading awareness, but it stops when they try to force their own beliefs unto others.

The name of W"ndigo Beach is actively being fought by the Native community. It's not the "gotcha!" you think it is. The term is used (inappropriately) by garbage human beings who have gotten away with it and will continue to do so because of people like you who will never uphold any kind of justice for anyone but themselves. You have failed. You have failed, and you have defended your failure by attempting to deflect it. This is not the same as having the name of Old Gods. This is having a name equivalent to celebrating the lynching of the African American community. This is a name equivalent to saying "I support Nazis". This is a name that is, at its core, supporting pure evil. Your staff may be "diverse" but it is obviously still filled with narrow minded individuals who will step on the nA community to try and boost themselves. I am saddened. I am disgusted. I hope none of you are in any real position of authority around children because you are teaching them to do that which the British have always done: destroy, disregard, deflect. You have failed, and will continue to do so until you are capable of looking past your own biases to realize that you are wrong and you are disgusting in your defense of the status quo instead of justice.

Eltafez — 09/Jun/2020 18:06 Since it doesn’t look like your mind is going to change, I’ll do us both a favor and bid you a good day.

Gargle my dick and balls

And thus ended all communication with staff

Don’t let them get away with this, and don’t let them get away with thinking that they can do whatever they like (or nothing) without any consequence. Idleness is complicity, and they are sending the dangerous message that racism is tolerated. “We don’t support racism in any form” and “we’re not gonna do anything about cultural appropriation tho” cannot co-exist.

#pokefarm #pokefarm q #eltafez pokefarm #eltafez pokefarm q #racism tw #racism #cultural appropriation #wendig*ag

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wanderingpages · 4 years

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what are your most fav series ever? like books you go back to and read when you're in a slump or just need the comfort..?

Ohh that’s a good question. Tbh if I’m in a slump I listen to crap music that makes me feel even worse, then try to compensate by watching YouTube videos, then when the adhd stops me from enjoying that, my boyfriend drags me out for car rides or cocoons me in blankets and sometimes himself and forces me to sit through an entire movie or a few episodes of a series. (I love watching The Swan Princess so sometimes he plays that and he lets me sing every song horribly while he pretends to hate it but I know he gets a kick out of the animals ok)

I do often go back to The Wall of Winnipeg by Marianna Zapata, I couldn’t even tell you why I just like the realism I guess and the super duper subtle hints of pinning. It also goes pretty in tandem with Wait for it, which was also sweet and adorable.

I kinda go back to The Covenant Series by J L Armentrout as well becuase despite some eye rolling moments, Aiden St Delphi really made my heart pitter patter. I also really liked The Darkest Star from her becuase the main love interest was one of my favorite characters in the previous series Lux and he may be type crazy but he’s always told his girl the sweetest things.

Sometimes I hurt myself by reading The Forbidden Games by L J Smith even though I will forever hate the ending lol.

Teardrop Shot by Tijan...it’s a real sweet book, but I’m on the fence about it becuase it genuinely was the last book my best friend and I read together before her passing. It’s kinda hard to read now especially since one of the characters suffered through something vaguely similar as her. I haven’t read it since, but I did read it a few times before. I might reread it at some point again though. Lol she really loved that book.

If I’m in the mood, I’ll spook myself with Karina Halle’s Experiemnt in terror novels, but only books 5, 6, 6.5 & 7 for the angst arc tbh bc if I’m down I love feeling even worse about myself

A real good short read for some feel good fluff and humor that’s also pretty fast paced is Like the Wind by J Bengtsson. Istg if you squint hard enough it’s one direction fanfiction and I love it.

#asks #book talk #book recs

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one-of-us-must-be-crazy · 5 years

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I gotta. I just gotta... 23...

“We have to be quiet.”

this is pretty not okay for reading in public and I’m on some serious cold meds. Good Luck! AND I AM SORRY.

Layover at Gateway Station wasn’t on the booking information for their vacation to Mars. The only active resort on the budding colony for tourism rather than general agriculture development. But there was a beautiful and crystal clear blue ocean, with stellar entertainment, and Amanda had never been to Mars.

It’s not a honeymoon, he wants to think, continues to think as an annoyed Amanda starts unpacking her suitcase in their cramped cabin that made the officer’s quarters on the Torrens look like luxury. But this is their first vacation since Davis had broken into Luna’s government archives to slip in false documents for him, for them both, including a marriage certificate. Amanda Tei Ripley-McClaren and a Christopher Samuel McClaren. “We’ve got the last name of your stupid typo, be glad I love you.” Didn’t matter, not really, not to either of them.

“You’re only going to have to pack that up again in a couple days.”

“And until then, I want something nicer to sleep in,” she fishes out a crumpled wad of pink tissue paper, and he watches intently as she shoves them into a shower caddy and takes her robe from the case too.

“Where are you going?”

“Showers.”

“Why?”

“Well we’re stuck here for a full twenty-four hours,”

“Only another twenty,”

“I want to freshen up.”

“Okay…”

An hour and she still isn’t back, hopefully washing off her annoyance. He writes a little, in the nice leather journal with the antique fountain pen Amanda had gifted him the previous holiday. The light’s low in the cabin but his eyes don’t need too much. There’s a slight reflection off of the new-gold of his wedding ring. Wedding ring. Something like that should never be placed on something like him, but here he was, his nature both ever present and something only vaguely brought to the surface when necessary.

The door clicked open with a slight hiss and a slide, and Amanda walked in. He could tell from the sound of her footfall, the rate of her breath and heart, exactly who it was. He’d know her approach fully blinded and possibly even deaf.

But he wasn’t deaf now, and his hearing picked up the soft plush sound of her robe hitting the floor.

“Amy?”

“Yes?”

So this was what she wanted to keep wrapped in the gaudy paper while he was packing. True, he infinitely preferred her in nothing at all, but she liked this…prelude, these rituals to romance. Black straps of some shiny material criss-crossed her cleavage and nearly-flat stomach, hooking into maddening patterns of more crisscrossing over lace shorts that left little to wonder–not that he had to, with perfect fidelity memories of her in every state of dress and situation. Her black painted nails on display flat against the door behind her, eyeliner on too–not that he particularly cared, again, one way or another about her aesthetic choices, he wasn’t conditioned that way, and found her, in any healthy form, appealing for her own sake, but this was a lovely shift from her short-fused anger from earlier in the day.

“Christopher?”

He takes one more full moment to drink this view in, her sharp lines and soft curves the lace panels of the top over her breasts connected with corset hooks. Human hands would tear them, but he could still make quick and careful work of them.

“Yes?” gods, the shadows playing on her skin along with all those alien lines was wreaking havoc in his visual processing and he loved it.

“Do you like it?”

“That…is an absolutely…ridiculous question.” It occurs to him, that this was her attempting to seduce him, and some hiccup of warmth boils in his chest. He’d blush if he could, but he can’t, and Amanda’s cheeks get a touch rosy in a way he thinks suits her fantastically.

“How long do you want me to keep them on?” her cocky smile could decommission him. Two years together, and he’s not sure how it hasn’t yet.

“But I thought–”

“That I promised we’d actually get out some on this trip?” she bit her lip to keep from smiling too widely.

“Yes. That. When we stayed at that cabin on Terra, we spent….most of it indoors.”

“Not fair, entirely, if it didn’t snow so badly, it wouldn’t have been so bad.”

“Bad wasn’t the word for it…” he doesn’t know a word for what that had been, the snow was terrible, fine, but four days trapped indoors with her, he vaguely recalls Odysseys being stranded on the island of a sea goddess. Amanda would laugh if he tells her though, and he says nothing.

“Well, why don’t we just get it out of our systems now?” She trails her finger tips down the outfit, if the collection of lace and cords could be called as such, and goosebumps rise on her soft flesh as he takes a step closer.

“I wouldn’t mind a few late mornings between our excursions once we’re there,”

“Good. But now I’m really worked up and I fought myself into this fucking thing, and the surprise is ruined,” her eyes change from playful to full of some softer emotion that drills into him. “I want you.”

“Take me,” he says, half unaware of what he said, but his hands don’t start on her corset hooks before she has his belt undone and pants open, her hand down his boxers and wrapped around his stiffening length. Her hand moves slowly up and down a couple times, before he frees her from the top half of the outfit, and shoves, a little rougher than he would have liked to admit, the pants part down. Forcing off his shoes and kicking his pants off while he groans that her hands abandonned their previous efforts in favor of working off his shirt, his kisses her hard, a hand on her lower back, another on the back of her neck.

She squeaks at it, almost instinct now, but lets it go; it doesn’t bother her to be touched there anymore, at least not by him.

Any upper hand he hoped to get is gone, her tongue in his mouth and her hands on his chest pushing him onto their blessedly double bunk.

“Are you ready?” she asks, kissing his earlobe and down his neck. “Becuase I’m pretty sure that I am,”

“I am,” static already creeping into his voice, and he’s a little afraid at how long he’ll last; she eases onto him, slow enough that it’s maddening, and he gives up trying to stop the groan at the feeling of her soft, hot, and very wet inside. Her hands trace gently over his chest as she tenses around him.

“Amy–” he sees her abdominal muscles ripple slightly looking up at her, as she starts to move on him, he’ll do something for her next, something nice, something, “Oh, hell, please keep—that’s it…” she lifts herself up until he’s almost out of her, teasing possibly, going by the look on her flushed face, but he bucks up to her again, prompting a slight gasp in reply that he likes the sound of very much.

“You….” she moaned, strangely, almost silently, when she’s usually not held back around him, not vocally, not anymore. “We,” she said through gritted teeth as she started to move on him again, “have to be quiet.”

“Amy–I don’t give a fuck what the neighbors hear,”

“Sexy, but I don’t want to lose this cabin.”

“…ooh. Fair,” he knots a hand in the back of her grown-out hair as she bends forward to kiss him, grinding gently as she does, coaxing stifled and static-ridden moans from his mouth into hers. “You….” he can’t think exactly what he was about to say, what he wanted to say, but his edge seems closer than hers and it won’t do. She rises back upright on him and he tries to lean up a little as well, reaching to just above where they’re joined, to rub circles around her clit.

“Chrissss, this was supposed to be–” she puts her weight onto her hands on his shoulders and pushes him back down, closing her eyes and lips against another pleased sigh as the angle shifts. “–for you.”

“And I love the feeling of your climax,” she was still just long enough for him to start rocking back up into her, earning him a low purr.

“fuck. I’m–” she can’t fake one, hasn’t ever to him, and hasn’t in general since she was an underclassman in college. She’s close to the real thing though, and rolls her hips hard against him, feeling his cock throb inside her, close, his admittedly generous design fits her like he was a custom make. “Harder,”

The sound of a broken motor comes from his throat along with growl that sounds as if he turned down his audio volume rather than trying to keep quiet; in one inhumanly quick motion he’s sat up and turned them over, Amanda’s gasp of shock the loudest noise they’ve made so far.

Another, gravelly whisper at her ear, “tell me if this is too hard,” he drives into her even as she’s still trying to lock her ankles around his hips and she gives up, gives in, pushing back up against him at a pace that’s more her favorite than his.

“Oh….oh…oh fuck.” she tries to hold to his torso, tries to get a grip on him, on time and space in general but he’s got two years of data, of trial and error down to a fine science to undo her, and his soft kisses on her throat don’t match the rougher pace he’s been leading, but his moans are urged back out from her nails down his back, artificial muscles tensed under skin that feels so natural to her she’d probably recoil from the touch of human flesh.

She crashes in a rush, turning her head into the pillow to stifle the sounds, and as she feels him slow, feels him easing up, but he’s not there yet himself.

“Keep going,” it’s overwhelming, too much, so much she’s seconds from telling him to stop when his head falls into the crook of her shoulder, his audio silenced; she wished she had gotten to hear his final reactions, but he slows down farther, and rests.

“Hell, Amanda….” his voice sounds like a radio with tinny reception but it turns her back on in a second; she’s the only one to hear his vocals react like this, it’s something between them, private. Her legs tighten around him, and he lets a little more of his weight on her.

“Good?”

“Fantastic, love…” he says with wonder, as if this hasn’t happened for weeks, not days.

“If we can stay quiet–”

“You mean if you can stay quiet?” he smirks down at her and she playfully pushes at him, and he rolls off her, lying next to her for a second before gathering her close, his arms around her waist, chest to her back, and face in her sweet smelling hair.

“Not fair, I can’t turn off my voice–but if we can stay quiet..”

“Yes?” he bids her to continue, nudging her hair aside to kiss the back of her neck.

“Want to try it on the desk next?”

She feels his answer at her back and grins.

#sunnyhomes

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hopeenots · 4 years

Text

Ekphrastic Writing

I don’t have separate playlists for my different types of music as I imagine what people normally do, but I just have all the songs I like in one big playlist. I don’t really know how this assignment works, but it reminds me of something my math teacher made us do in seventh grade. She had all of us write for five minutes and we were told to not let our pencils stop moving even if we had to write “lalalala” on the paper. That is what I get from this assignment. Going back to my playlist, there are so many different types of music that I listen to. Spotify usually gradually changes the genre of music so I hope that works for this assignment. Was even supposed to be our music that we are supposed to be listening to while we write? I am not sure, but I am anxious about getting these assignments done right.

My mind is going blank right now, I am getting distracted by the music a bit. I guess why the book says that soundtracks works better; because with soundtracks there are no lyrics to throw off your train of thought. Today was a good day for me I guess, I don’t really know what to talk about so I am going to talk about my day. Well first I want to talk about the fact that my brain is moving so much faster than my hands can type. I feel like my thoughts are skipping around because there is not specific prompt, just free writing. Even when there is a specific prompt, it is sometimes hard to not go on a random tangent. My brain is like two or three sentences ahead of my hands.

I am noticing that the more I get into the assignment, the more my music is going into the background, and my thoughts are not getting caught in the lyrics. Also I am not sure if it is showing in my writing, but I can feel the difference in the rhythm and speed of my typing as the music changes, even sometimes during the song.

I feel like I am thinking a bit too hard about this assignment, I am supposed to be free writing but my brain keeps going back to this class and the assignment. But I guess that is just who I am. I worry a lot about if I am doing things right. I feel like I am talking to a diary or journal. I tried to have one when I was a kid, but I found my brothers reading it one day and that was then end of that. I never kept any kind of diary again. When I was super upset, I would write down my thoughts and then light the piece of paper on fire so that no one could find it.

I think that this assignment is pretty cool, I am not really sure how much to wrote though, I just realized that I forgot to set a timer and I have not been checking the time. I guess I will just write until I run out of characters...How many characters does Tumblr allow you to have? What if I am writing forever? I’m laughing to myself a little bit. I am not sure what to do but I don’t want to stop writng and lose my mojo. I think I am going to stick to my first idea and write until I can’t anymore so if I cut off mid-sentence, you now know why.

Okay, I feel weird not writing to a prompt. I don’t know what to write and it is stressing me out, which I feel like is stopping my brain from getting to a place where I can just write. If you can’t tell by reading this so far, I overthink so many things to the point of stressing myself out. That probably isn’t a good thing, but I am not sure what to do about that so I guess overthinking it is. I feel kind of like I should do this more often...free writing. I feel like I am taking a break from my actual work right now. I think that is a good thing, hopefully I didn’t insult the assignment.

Writing...I haven’t written like this probably since seventh grade. I am losing my train of thought. I am going home this weekend. Not celebrating or anything. Just going to help out around the house. My brother is disabled from a skateboarding accident so I take care of him sometimes when my mom has to go work.

I know for this exercise we are not supposed to worry about our grammar mistakes and whatnot, but the red lines that appear under the words that are spelled incorrectly are very annoying and intimidating..........my room is cold right now. I wonder how long I have until tumblr makes me stop writing. I can’t believe tumblr doesn’t have its own name in its vocabulary. it right now has a red line under it and I even tried to capitalize it, but it still has a red line which is very annoying.

Umm I kind of running out of things to write about..well i guess there are a plethora of things I could talk about. oh I never talked about my day. well it was pretty uneventful, I just said my day was good becuase I didn’t know what else to say. I woke up and went to class and then I came back and ate a bunch of junk food while watching netflix and now I am doing my work.

I am getting vibes from the song that is playing right now. I had a friend during childhood and this song reminds me of her. She died during our senior year and it hurt because we were not on talking terms and it brought a lot of things into perspective.

okay its getting kind of sad up in here and I don’t like it. Oh look how that is working, writing is just making me talk about things that I usually don’t talk about. I am not sure how I feel about that. I am not gonna say it’s a bad thing though because I know it is not good to bottle things up. I still don’t really know how i feel about writing. I don’t like to do it, but I feel like I am good at it. I don’t think there are any downsides to writing, but I just ugh I don’t like to do it. Like I think the only reason this assignment isn’t absolutely horrible is because I am not writing about some topic that I am forced to write about, I am just typing the first things that come to my mind

I think I am getting stuck in between the song changes, especially if it is a drastic change, my brain shuffles up for a second and then I can go again. I feel like there has been a pause in my fingers everytime the songs have changed. i am not exactly sure. but I just noticed this time and it felt familiar. I don’t even know if I am making sense anymore. I am getting tired, but I am not sure when to stop writing. i am not even sure how long I have been writing, or how many songs have played. I feel like I made a mess out of this assignment. I kind of wish this was an exercise that is used more in school, maybe it wouldn’t be so weird for me right now. I really want to go until i can write anymore but I feel like I might be getting myself into writing for hours, but also I might be so close to meeting the character limit.

I shaved my head recently for the second time. The first time was in high school. the first time was a test of my confidence and a journey in building my self confidence. This time was because it was so hot outside and since we were quarantined, I wasn’t doing anything, I got laid off from my job. My hair was never getting done, it was always tangled and in a bun. I say it was because it was hot, but deep down I might have been slowly losing my mind from being locked up in the house for months. This time I forget that my head isi shaved most of the time. When I first shaved it I was always worried about what I looked like. Now, I just feel free.

Feeling free is a great feeling. I like doing things that make me feel free. Like driving...I like driving.

Okay I thought I had more to say about being free but i guess that was it. I am ready to stop typing at this point, but I am not a quitter. i might just have to be this time. My brain has been free for too long now, there are no more ideas that want to just bubble to the surface for my fingers to translate into words on this post. I am not sure...

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everyday-effing-therapy · 5 years

Text

17/07/19

Good evening,

I’m not doing well mentally, I guess that’s sort of visible.

Don’t get me wrong, I mean, today after midnight it was fantastic, Black actually wrote to me, we talked, I laughed so much and then, something went wrong.

You see, Black is my classmate, as are Gold and Silver, but I hadn’t really laid my eyes on Black up until about three weeks ago. We were at a party, I desperately wanted to dance with some boys from my class and I dragged him to the dancefloor. He ran away at first, but a few hours later, when the alcohol kicked in, he went back to dance with me. There was this song and he started bragging how he knew all the words to it. It’s a classic, from actually quite long ago, but I love it.

Three days later we were on another party and Silver asked for a song for us, but then he stood me up. I felt totally shitty, up until Black came up to me and, as it turned out, asked the DJ for the same song to which we were dancing to on the party before.

Then there was a sleepover with my friends and Black was there too and we played the song again and he sang again, everything was fine. It was his birthday so in the birthday wishes I wrote that I hope that everybody will know that he knows all the lyrics by heart.

When we went on that infamous sleepover on July, 10, the song started to play, but he didn’t want to dance with me to it. I blamed it on his bad mood or maybe tiredness, but I just didn’t get it, cause it was slowly becoming “our” song.

You know what, yesterday we were talking about music too and he again stated that he didn’t want that song. That hurt in the weirdest way. Maybe I just don’t get it. Maybe that was a song of him and his girlfriend and I somehow managed to steal it. I don’t know. But when I hear it, I think about him and how I don’t understand any of it and I just want to cry.

Apart from that, the conversation was fine.

My dad woke me up at 7:30 for breakfast. I ate and went back to sleep. On Wednesdays, we don’t eat meat in our house, so I waited with lunch for my parents. My dad usually comes home quite early and we could prepare something together. I did forget though that he had a business meeting with some people.

During the day I studied biology, as always, you must think I’m a sort of biology freak. I did take some tests for my driving class and I passed one of the mocks so I’ve been super happy.

I read a book, currently reading Claudine at school - a book my grandma bought for me a long time ago and I just got to reading it. I fed my dog, loaded the dishwasher, vacuumed the floors, everything.

I just didn’t eat lunch. At all. And when my parents came home at 6 pm, I didn’t just go running to them, because we always eat supper together at 7 pm. I was really bored and hungry though, so I went downstairs, only to see them eating sushi behind my back.

Honestly, it was as if I caught 6 year olds red handed. My mom started giggling nervously and I hated every single second of it.

I didn’t eat the entire day, waited for them, they ignored me, boycotted the entire not eating meat on Wednesdays plan, cause they obviously don’t care abouth the fucking planet or me, they didn’t even bother to give me a heads up that I’ll have to prepare food for myself and if I hadn’t gotten downstairs, I would have to eat alone. And they get mad if I am late for dinner, cause it’s some fucking family quality time, but if they want to eat earlier or without me then they are just not respecting the rules. That’s why I hate adults. Fortunately, I am soon going to be one, so I will be able to do the things that adults do the best in the entire world - bitch about life and not respect other people. You know, in school they force us not to do those things, but later, God, you’re free.

As you can see, I’m pretty fucking pissed. I still feel sort of hungry, I didn’t feel like talking to my parents at all and I cried. It feels like I’m not needed, which is the feeling that makes me feel so much acidic pain from hatred.

I just feel like nothing. I am so uncomfortable, just want to cry or some shit, feels like I have PMS but I know I don’t have it right now. Nothing feels good, the future seems shitty and nothing seems to entertain me anymore.

You see, back in the days in September, when my acting class still existed, we talked a lot. There was this one time when I had so many things bottled up I just had the worst panic attack and I cried and cried. I remember when I opened up to talk about it, someone said I might be depressed.

I brushed it off, because I didn’t have a painful or traumatic childhood. I have an amazing life and am, overall, cheerful, so nobody believes that I could be depresed, until they see me in the middle of anxiety attack.

It’s like, I’m such a good actress, I fooled everybody, including myself. And I’m so not ok.

It’s not ok when you don’t know how to get up from bed or what to do to escape your mind or how to stop thinking bullshit. I have so many bad emotions on my plate.

It feels really bad and I just feel very lonely in that.

I guess that’s why I’m here. Cause I can’t act with my fingertips on the keyboard.

I just want the bad times to pass, to no surprise, cause who wouldn’t.

I dreamt about my ex last night. I hate those dreams, becuase I’m happy in them. Happy to be next to her, not in a romantic sense though. She used to be my best friend beforehand. I miss her, I miss all of the things that we didn’t get to do, but I don’t like those nightly visits. That’s not true, that person is not who she really is, because truthfully, I don’t know the real her for shit. That’s why we broke up too.

I still want to send her light, even if that’s just for her to be happy and safe, cause her life lacked both, but I also want to let go of that time in my life. I know I will carry on remembering who she was and what role she played in my life, but I hope that the memory of her will not be coming back in tsunami tides ever again.

The past is in the past.

I do hope that the future is bright for all of us, my loves.

Love,

#17/07 #23:01 #night post #diary #journal #journal entry #love #life #anxiety #depression #c posts #still 11 pm #i don't feel so good #ex-girlfriends and all that jazz

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lareinenoir · 6 years

Text

Bucky Barnes × MY Black! OC pt II

Warning: Racial slur/ mentions of 'n' word, angst, This chapter focuses mostly on Major. I'm sorry if that's not what you're looking for but don't worry, Bucky will be in the next chapter!

Taglist: @littlekidsteve @coffee-with-bucky >Not apart of the contest, just thought you might want to read it<

"Margaret-Jane" Shouts Hector from the door walking in the little diner. Seeing she didn't even look up to acknowledge him, he slid in the both now facing her. "Margaret-Jane?"

"Hi Hector." She said giving a weak and tired smile then going back to her book.

"That's It? No joke about my mixed match socks? Aren't you going to teach me some more cuss words in French?" He laughs trying to cheer her up.

"No." She shakes her head and flips the page. "Not today. I'm feeling...bleh."

"Bleh? Is that even a feeling Jane." Hector chuckled but stops seeing that she didn't think it was funny.

"Bleh." She sighed still eyes on the words and lengthy pages.

"So uh...my dad. He is going to find out soon." Hector explains changing the subject.

"Oh? About what?" Asks Margaret-Jane licking her lips.

"About Tommy and I. He uh...he found one of my poems I wrote about him. I never gave a gender but compared his kisses to dew in the early morning." Hector sighed with ease

"Very wet?" Asks Margaret-Jane

"We'll not just the lips." Hector winks then laughing seeing her shudder. "Anyway, now my dad wants to meet Tommy. I told him it was a girl but he's gonna see soon that...he'll know I lied."

Margaret-Jane rubbed her eyes and said, "Then tell him the truth."

"I can't. I didn't imagine my coming out," he whispers the last part. "would be like this. I don't think I ever planned to actually."

She shrugs her shoulders and flips the page. Margaret-Jane wanted to be helpful and she wasn't trying to be rude to Hector. The truth was, she didn't really care. The only thing she cared about was the one person she wanted to forget.

"Jane?" Asks Hector seeing her cover her eyes with her palms. "Jane?" He asks again this time hearing her sob as a tear fell onto the page she was reading.

"I miss him, Hector. I miss him so much." She sobbed still covering her face.

"Hey?" He asks getting up and sliding in next to her with his arm across her slump shoulders. "What's bothering you mi amiga?"

"I tell myself not to miss him. Not to think about him as much because he isn't thinking of me. I want him back." Said Margaret-Jane leaning into him "I want him to come back. I want him to be thinking of me, Hector."

"I understand." He hushes brushing back her hair kissing her head.

But Margaret-Jane was wrong. Bucky was missing her. She was on his mind all the time. He would write to Steve every chance he could, always asking how she was doing and if she did ask to say, 'I just want you to be happy.'

Steve never knew how to answer because Margaret-Jane had been a ghost on the street. On rare occasions, they'd cross paths and he'd wave and say hello.

So, Steve would reply,

She's adjusting.

And that was that. Bucky always heard the other guys talk about the girl they had back in Brooklyn. He knew that Margaret-Jane was his but he wanted her to know that too. Bucky wanted Margaret-Jane to know that he hadn't given up on them. He really did want to marry her.

"What about you, Barnes?" Asked one of them. "Got anyone at home?"

He laughed nervously rubbing the back of his neck with a soft grin. "Yeah." Bucky nods. "Can't wait to get back home and marry her."

They all laughed and he blushed a bit at the thought of her sweet lips on his. Or her accent when she said his full name. When Margaret-Jane would mutter things when she got annoyed.

"You asked her yet?"

"No and yes. She said yes but I have to get her a ring. A good size ring so Major knows much I love her."

"Getting sappy on us Barnes?" They joke and erupted in laughter.

Bucky shoved them and smiled widely telling them to shut up whilst flipping them off. "Her name is Major?"

"Margaret-Jane." Answers Bucky

"Oh yeah!" Another nods and everyone looks to him. "I seen that girl before. That French girl wanna be a teacher. No lie, the only reason why people give her the time of day is to hear her talk. Cuz they never seen a French nigga."

Bucky stood and reached over swiftly grabbing the collar of his shirt. "Watch it, Clifford." He hisses, now nose to nose.

"Easy, Barnes. Ain't mean no disrespect. In Atlanta, I see a whole bunch of them niggas."

"I don't care if 'a whole bunch of them' were growing on your ass." Bucky said in a low menacingly voice that made everyone else straighten up. "Don't say it again." His eyes look to everyone else and he drops Clifford.

Then Bucky stormed off to his tent.

*****

"Marguerite-Jeanne?" Her grandmother says shaking her awake after taking the book that covered her face.

"Grandmother?" She yawns trying to sit up but ended up laying still. "Quelle heure est-il?" (What time is it?)

"Past noon. What is the matter with you? Are you feeling ill? For the past month, you've been sleeping till noon sometimes till two."

"I've been up studying grand-mère. I take the exam next week to get my degree and then I'll become a teacher." Margaret-Jane yawned

"Unfortunately, there will be no more sleeping. The Jackson family is coming over for dinner and I need you to run an errand for me." Her grandmother explains placing money on her nightstand. "Grab some flour and eggs, oui? For biscuits (cookies) for dessert."

Margaret-Jane groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes, still trying to wake up. "Oui grand-mère."

"Ou pas. Vous prenez du poids." She mutters then laughs a bit. (Or not. You seem to be gaining weight.)

"Pourquoi faut-il être si grossier!" Margaret-Jane asks folding her arms. (Why do you have to be so rude!)

"Je suis desolè." (Im sorry) She replies kissing her head and then leaves her grand daughter alone.

Still trying to wake up, Margaret-Jane slips the dress off her body and walks to the closet. Pausing before the mirror, she frowns and sucks in her cheeks.

"Mon Dieu, peut-être que ma grand-mère avaitraison" (my goodness, my grandmother was right.)

Her face seemed to get a little thicker and so did her hips. Margaret-Jane was not a sporty girl but her stomach looked bigger too. Maybe it was all the food she had been consuming. The milkshakes with Hector almost every day or the midnight snacks. They were usually marshmallow and peanut butter on bread with the occasional swap of peanut butter to mustard. She didn't want to believe it but now it was crossing her mind.

"Non." She shook her head "Je ne peaux pas." She tells herself. "Je ne peaux pas." (I can't.)

Margaret-Jane didn't want to think about it and decided it was best just to leave that thought alone. Hector was a big distraction when she invited him to the market.

"Jane." He said as he held out his arm

"Bonjour, Hector." She waves taking his arm. "How was your morning?"

"Better question, how was yours?" He grinned giving her a look. "You seem...different today. Happy, yes? Your glow is like a mirror of your own heart with a beautiful face to match."

"Aw." She cooed with a hand over her heart.

"That was good. I'm gonna write that down." Hector said with a laugh as they entered into the store.

"I don't know." She shrugs. "I barely have been thinking about Bucky. Maybe that's it. My focus is on my Exams."

"I'm proud." He says kissing her head. "You'll be a great teacher. Those children will be very lucky to have you."

Walking around the store to get the items, Hector and Margaret-Jane had to go through the seafood isle. That's when Margaret-Jane went silent and her face a little green.

"You look flushed." Hector says as she tries to catch her breath, turning away from the isle. "Are you sick?"

"No. Maybe." She answers placing her hand in her knees. "Do you not smell that, Hector?Back in France they sell seafood all the time. I don't know why the smell is bothering me so much." Margaret-Jane tells him.

"Im afraid its just you." He sighed.

"Are you alright dear?" Asks a woman as Margaret-Jane looks up forcing a smile.

"Yes. I believe I just caught some sort of bug?" She replied in a question becuase she wasn't sure if she used the phrase correctly.

"Sir, you should get your wife home." The woman tells Hector who sort of blushed and chuckles. Her light brown eyes focus on Margaret-Jane, picking up her accent and replying, "Tu as besoin de repos. Les nausées matinales peuvent être un véritable défi." (You need to rest. Morning sickness can be a real challange.) "Especially in the first couple of weeks."

"Attendre les nausées matinales?" (Did you say morning sickness?) Asks Margaret-Jane who swallowed the large lump in her throat. The hairs on her arms tickled her uncomfortably.

"Oui Tu n'es pas enceinte?" (Yes, aren't you pregnant?) The woman laughs heartedly. She noticed that Margaret-Jane didn't answer and was staring at her with a blank expression. "Does he know?" But she still wasn't getting it. Margaret-Jane pushed that thought aside, but what if this woman was right. "You come visit me sometime this week at the clinic. I'm Kathleen Paul by the way." Quickly writing it down, Kathleen hands it to her and leaves the isle.

"Kathleen thought I was your husband. What a sense of humor." He says as she forces another giggle and flattens out her dress. "Jane?"

"I need some fresh air." She told him, reaching for the cash in her pocket. "Buy the items, oui. I'm going to take a walk."

Margaret-Jane didn't give Hector time to answer and just left the store. Trying to catch her own breath and get rid of that dizzy feeling, she had the pleasure of bumping into Steve.

"Margaret-Jane?" He asks seeing that she was a bit frazzled not to mention wobbly in platform shoes. "How are you?" Asks Steve guiding her to the near by bench.

Her lips moved but no words came out just tears. Steve never had a girl cry on him before and Margaret-Jane was just a friend. A friend he hadn't seen in a while. "What's the matter?" He asks again

"Steve," she sniffed not sure if she wanted to tell him. "I'm just so overwhelmed. It's just my grandmother and I now and-and-and I don't know what to do. I've been trying to focus on my Exams becuase it keeps me from thinking of him." She confessed feeling all her emotion fall into his lap. "I know I told him not to think of me and I-I-I was such a fool! If he comes back will he still love me? Will he forgive me, Steve? I can't do this on my own." Margaret-Jane shook her head as more of her tears fell. "I need him now more than ever and I-"

"Margaret-Jane, slow down." Steve tells her not really understanding all her rambling. "What are you talking about?

"You are completely right." She nods cleaning her face and flattening out the skirt of her dress. "What the hell am I talking about. Kathleen could be wrong."

Standing, Margaret-Jane kept telling herself that and took a deep breath. Steve was very confused and saw how nervous she was due to her continuing to flatten out her dress. He was still very concerned.

"Je suis dèsole. I did not mean to dump all my problems on you, it was impolite. You aren't my therapist-"

Margaret-Jane stopped talking as the words got caught in her throat. Steve watched her fall to the ground and her body start to spasm.

"MARGARET-JANE!" He shouted rushing to her aid and then crying out, "HELP! HELP! SHE NEEDS HELP! SOMEBODY!"

To be continued

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fae-fucker · 6 years

Text

DNF: The Iron King

Listen.

I first picked this book up when I was fifteen.

It’s been six years and I still haven’t been able to finish this book.

I’ve finished books that were much, much worse than this one.

But there’s something about it that makes it impossible to finish for me personally and I’ll try to explain why, because I still have opinions.

(FYI, I got roughly 60% through the book before finally giving up, once and for all.)

I picked this book up, expecting a simple read with some whimsical worldbuilding and cheesy romance.

The worldbuilding, while deeply unoriginal, was enough to at least charm me, even if it didn’t impress me, and there were a couple of endearing and fun characters that I genuinely felt invested in.

The book was what I expected it to be for a little less than halfway into it, a light and generally inoffensive … thing. But the coming storm was foreshadowed pretty early on by the main character’s extreme stupidity and weakness, which is never adressed and in fact is written as some sort of heroic kindness, becuase of course.

See, the protag’s little brother has been stolen by fairies and replaced with a changeling, and to get him back, the protag has to boil the changeling. Which, yeah, sounds pretty horrific, but the creature and its mother are implied to be Always Chaotic Evil, and HER BROTHER’S LIFE MIGHT DEPEND ON IT. In fact, the changeling doesn’t even have to die, they just have to threaten to boil it so the mother comes back to get him and return protag’s brother.

Protag doesn’t do this, because she’s just so gosh darn nice. Instead she risks her own life and the lives of others to get out into the fairy world and search for him, despite being a fucking dumbass who can’t hold her own in any situation and has to be saved over and over. It would’ve been far more interesting to have her boil the changeling and for that not to work, so she’d be forced to go out there and save her brother.

But this was … fine. I could make myself forget the stupid premise for the sake of the two characters I enjoyed and the relatively well-written action sequences and worldbuilding stuff. The real problems start with the introduction of the

MYSTERIOUS DARK SEXY FAIRY PRINCE

which is an archetype I generally enjoy (surprise, surprise), but here, this dude literally tries to kill the protag and she still fucking pisses herself in excitement between almost getting murdered because of how cute and sexy he is.

Everything goes downhill once this guy is introduced. The protag seems even dumber because of how she swoons over a guy who literally has tried to murder her and expressed the wish to murder her over and over again (for reasons that, if explained, come too late), and the whole brother-saving stuff gets pushed into the background so we can worry about the protag and her father (who is a fairy king) and her new shiny boy toy.

It’s sad. It’s depressing as fuck to read. And the worst part?

The love interest is as interesting as soggy cardboard. There’s NOTHING to him. I know some of you might think that I didn’t read enough to know that, or that there’s more to him in the later chapters, but with character stuff, you need to hint at something deeper from the start.

Like. Ever since he’s introduced, most of the chapters with him are all about how he’s sexy and evil and wants to murder the protag. Everyone else from his court are sexy and evil as well so there’s nothing about him that suggests he’s different. There’s nothing hinting at an inner conflict or a struggle. The protag is convinced he wants to murder her (because he attempts it multiple times, so her last two braincells had enough to go on) but she’s also super into him for … why? He’s cute and the plot demands it? Sounds about right.

It’s not so bad it’s good because the writing itself is perfectly fine, and so are the ideas and executions. But the plot, and the characters go from passable to just … empty husks there to fill a role and nothing else.

So yeah. It’s. It’s a whole lot of missed opportunities and mediocre writing marred by terrible ideas and the slavish adherence to a formulaic structure.

The more I read the more disappointed I got.

(Also, there was a point where the LI and the Third Wheel were having a dick-measuring contest in the form of a fight, and the protag (who is a 16-year-old girl who’s done nothing but bumbling about and being in the way up until now) literally whines them into stopping, and it’s treated as this cool impressive thing she did because she’s a fairy princess and deep down she’s very powerful or headstrong or whatever. It’s super hilarious because this protag has been nothing but useless so far, and we’re supposed to believe that the guy who’s been trying to kill her this whole time and the guy who’s literally hundreds of years old would listen to and obey her? I can’t. Spare me.)

#repost #book review #dnf #the iron king

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eff-reads · 6 years

Text

DNF: The Iron King

Listen.

I first picked this book up when I was fifteen.

It’s been six years and I still haven’t been able to finish this book.

I’ve finished books that were much, much worse than this one.

But there’s something about it that makes it impossible to finish for me personally and I’ll try to explain why, because I still have opinions.

(FYI, I got roughly 60% through the book before finally giving up, once and for all.)

I picked this book up, expecting a simple read with some whimsical worldbuilding and cheesy romance.

The worldbuilding, while deeply unoriginal, was enough to at least charm me, even if it didn’t impress me, and there were a couple of endearing and fun characters that I genuinely felt invested in.

The book was what I expected it to be for a little less than halfway into it, a light and generally inoffensive ... thing. But the coming storm was foreshadowed pretty early on by the main character’s extreme stupidity and weakness, which is never adressed and in fact is written as some sort of heroic kindness, becuase of course.

But this was ... fine. I could make myself forget the stupid premise for the sake of the two characters I enjoyed and the relatively well-written action sequences and worldbuilding stuff. The real problems start with the introduction of the

MYSTERIOUS DARK SEXY FAIRY PRINCE

It’s sad. It’s depressing as fuck to read. And the worst part?

Like. Ever since he’s introduced, most of the chapters with him are all about how he’s sexy and evil and wants to murder the protag. Everyone else from his court are sexy and evil as well so there’s nothing about him that suggests he’s different. There’s nothing hinting at an inner conflict or a struggle. The protag is convinced he wants to murder her (because he attempts it multiple times, so her last two braincells had enough to go on) but she’s also super into him for ... why? He’s cute and the plot demands it? Sounds about right.

It’s not so bad it’s good because the writing itself is perfectly fine, and so are the ideas and executions. But the plot, and the characters go from passable to just ... empty husks there to fill a role and nothing else.

So yeah. It’s. It’s a whole lot of missed opportunities and mediocre writing marred by terrible ideas and the slavish adherence to a formulaic structure.

The more I read the more disappointed I got.

#eff reads: the iron king #dnf review

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fagsex · 7 years

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Blossom?

Blossom- tell me how you've grownLife's always been weird for me. I grew up with my mom at an office and my dad working on a shrimp boat in Florida. I grew up with mint chocolate taffy from my mom's boss and living blue crabs from the ocean. I grew up playing at daycare, my friends approval my only meaning. I grew up reading chapter books by kindergarten and finishing Harry Potter by the end of second grade. I grew up dramatic, assuming I was dying when my body was covered in fire ants. I grew up fighting, verbally at first, then physically. I fought verbally with early elementary school librarians and teachers who saw me as nothing more than a problematic book worm. I fought physically with people who had mockingly called my friends special and bullies that hurt people I didn't even know. I grew up fighting. I moved in third grade to a completely different city and thought my life was over. I hate everything. I made a friend there. I made enemies, ones sticking with me to this day. I may have made enemies quick, but I could make acquaintances quicker. I wanted a fresh start. No more fighting. Instead, I wrote. I wrote ten pages about a rock named Nymphadora. I wrote essays out of a paragraph. I wrote 30 pages of fanfiction when I was in 4th grade, and I hardly scrapped the top. I had barely anyone. I had my friends, but I always felt I was bothering them. So I wrote. I read. I never went to recess. I was That Kid. I actually sprained my ankle and was on crutches for a week running away from the playground and to the library. I hated maths, every bit of it, but I still was the only one with a perfect hundred on the end of the year tests in elementary. In fourth grade, something new sparked my interest. Mythology. I learned everything I could about it. I scored my mother's thick books explaining Zeus's affairs, a slim book on the shelf explaining the religion of Odin, smaller books meant for kids about Hades and Posideon and Apollo and as much as I read, it was never enough. My mom was overjoyed. I think I took it too seriously at that age. I prayed to Aphrodite for love, and found myself overcome with it, too many people, I had become hurt and started hurting others, but not on purpose. I found myself begging at the night sky to Artemis for her forgiveness. I wanted to quit love. I was sick of it. But more love came. I always assumed it was a sick curse. My fault. I genuinely thought I was a child of Poseidon until roughly eleven. Even still, I go to the beach, and find myself whispering paternal phrases to the sea foam. I sat in my garden, watching the ants crawl along my leg, but never biting me, as I whispered love to Demeter and Persephone. I would look in the eyes of the fire and graze it, just to see how it felt, with the fire bearers of legend and Hestia in my mind, never burning. Occasionally, I'd build robots in gifted class, thinking of the works of Hephaetus, receiving top notch grades each time. I can recall pleading to Athena for my focus during tests, especially end of year ones. I'd sit at camp with sunglasses on, looking to the sky, and laughing with Apollo. I would go to parties and hope Dionysus would grant me spirit. Everything I did, I thought of the greek gods. Even now, when I hear thunder, my mom always asks me what I did to cause it. When I entered middle school, I told myself that my love for them was childish, and tried to stop. But I still found Ares in my mind as I kicked some homophobe in the shin. I could feel Hermes in my heart as I made jokes in class. I felt a spirit of Nike in Model UN. I was everything but the form of Hades as I looked a man dead in the eye and let him know that he would pay. And when I started discovering my gender and sexuality, I would sit in my room and talk to Iris and Apollo, pleading for answers and help. My life was filled with nothing but Greek Gods. I entered a relationship in January 2017 with a girl I thought I loved. I didn't. She was terrible. Pressured me into things I didn't want to do. Guilt tripped me into lies and pain. Forced me to do things. I felt nothing but hurt in my heart and assumed that was love. I always thought that that pain in my heart everytime I talked to someone I had liked that hated me was love. That every time some stupid boy who had told me to shut up and be nicer was love. I felt pain and smiled, because I thought I was loved. I eventually figured pain from happiness and finally found myself breaking it with her. I felt overjoyed. I felt ecstatic. After I broke it with her, I left school for a few days for my sister's birthday. I cam back on maybe a Wednesday, and I found people that I thought loved me calling me a whore and slut. She couldn't see what she did to hurt me and tried so hard to be my friend. She still suicide baits every Saturday or so and wants to come to my house too often. I've finally gotten around to blocking her. Then, in late November, I got tumblr mobile to make everything easier. Including chatting and reblogging. I started making friends. I started smiling more. I felt love. Real love. I met my soulmate, or at least that's what we think we are, around early December and hit it off immediately. But all too soon, we were seperated, and I had never felt so hurt and lonely in my life. My Christmas was spent looking at cheesy Hallmark romcoms and being jealous. I felt hatred towards myself. I tried giving up on love, and on him. It didn't work. My dreams betrayed me and they were filled with him. Every little thing was a sharp reminder that I was a known 'heartbreaker', but only had love for one person that I thought would never love me back. Until he told me he did. And I cried. Becuase I thought it was another dream. It wasn't. It isn't. Life has been filled with rough love for me, and I've tried my life trying to escape it. But I realised I never wanted to run from love. I wanted to run from pain. Every day passes and I fall more in love. Every day passes and I want to run into his arms more. Every day passes and I feel stronger. Every day I love life and I love love. I love someone. I love so many people, platonic, romantic, doesn't matter. I've found the ability to love again, and not just in a maternal way to hordes of children at camps and schools and play rehearsals alike. I've found the ability to love for me. I love people because I want to. Because I want to my life with them. I think I've grown quite a bit, at least in my eyes. Love has grown for me. I used to think love had a reason, but it doesn't. You can't pinpoint love. Love is blind. I think that's how I've grown, what do you think?

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fapangel · 7 years

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>>trump is inciting hatred against CNN / trump is seeking to shut CNN down by any means necessary || Are these fuckleheaded libs fucking serious?

Not only that - CNN has doxxed the reddit user who made the dank meme mocking them, and have openly threatened to reveal his identity if he fails to keep groveling and begging for apologies:

CNN is not publishing "HanA**holeSolo's" name because he is a private citizen who has issued an extensive statement of apology, showed his remorse by saying he has taken down all his offending posts, and because he said he is not going to repeat this ugly behavior on social media again. In addition, he said his statement could serve as an example to others not to do the same. CNN reserves the right to publish his identity should any of that change.

Naturally, this has blown up in CNN’s face, with CNN attempting damage control on Twitter, which is failing miserably because there’s no fucking way to talk around the paragraph above. That’s as blatant, direct and open a threat as you ever see.

But this isn’t the real gem. Oh no. As usual, that dubious distinction goes to the class act, the Crown Prince of Clowns, the fucking Washington Post’s screed defending this shit, and doubling down. It’s a hilarious read, but it’s also very revealing of the mindset behind the media fucks (like the ones at CNN) that is making them think doxxing random memelourdes on the internet is an ethical use of their power and platform:

The ethical question of whether a news outlet should withhold the identity of a private citizen who posted extremely offensive things online on the apparent condition that they behave better in the future is one that resonated well beyond the bubble of the Trump Internet.

An aside - there is no “ethical question” here. This is Journalism Ethics 101 - literally, I learned this in my senior Newspaper class before getting it again in a Journalism 100-level class at Eastern Michigan - a random internet user who made a 30 second meme clip is not a “public figure”. This is why so many news stories, i.e. on someone arrested for misdemeanors, decline to name the subject - to protect their privacy. This is run-of-the-mill journalism ethics. The President endorsing it via retweet effectively makes it “his” speech; you can gun for him all you want, but it is not ethical to actively hunt down the name of the random private citizen who made said clip, and then threaten to reveal them. You report on the stories, you do not make the fucking stories.

But the meme that Trump supporters have picked up and spread is a mix of fact and fiction, of genuinely outraged conservatives and the gleeful meme-literate arsonists who just like to see the Internet burn with fury.

Oh, right, those fucking alt-right trolls are in the wrong here because their narrative is filled with filthy liiiieessssssss

The media has often struggled to cover Trump’s online supporters, whose skepticism of mainstream publications has evolved into a total rejection of the idea that places like CNN are even trying to report the truth. At the head of that rejection is the president himself, who regularly tweets that news outlets he doesn’t like are “fake news.” Media ethics experts who look at CNN’s article on all this might discuss it in the context of a long and tricky media discussion about outing anonymous, racist Internet trolls. On the Trump Internet, however, the subtext of the meme is that “blackmailing” sources is a normal part of mainstream journalistic practice. The difference is, they believe, that someone finally got caught.

(Emphasis added.) Again, there is no fucking “long and tricky media discussion” about this - anonymous people on the internet are by definition not public figures, and there is no news value in doxxing this person. In fact, this is outright suppression of free speech via the chilling effect. Their “racist trolling” doesn’t change this one bit. It is not CNNs, nor any other media outlets right to decide who’s speech is legitimate, nor to police it.

Overnight, the r/The_Donald board that once hosted HanA‑‑‑‑‑‑Solo’s apology and plea for peace was filled up with even more anti-CNN memes, and posts calling for a full-on war against the network. The Trump-supporting Redditors picked up an idea from 4chan’s /pol/ board, organizing mass calls and tweet-storms to a long list of companies, demanding they stop advertising on CNN. The story soon spread to Trump-friendly publications like Gateway Pundit and Infowars. It was the front page of Drudge:

Awww, poor CNN, being bullied by all those fucking alt-right trolls, amirite? Of course, the many, many times this kind of public shaming and defaming campaign has been run against conservatives, we’re snottily told that “Freedom of Speech” just means freedom from government censorship, and that private citizens are free to tell them to fuck off, an argument neatly summarized by XKCD.

Meanwhile, a tantalizing but extremely unconfirmed detail began to attach itself to the meme. Was HanA‑‑‑‑‑‑Solo a 15-year-old kid, as many posts on the #CNNBlackmail hashtag repeat as fact? Even though CNN, and screenshots of HanA‑‑‑‑‑‑Solo’s own Reddit history seem to contradict this, indicating that the user is significantly older, the notion that CNN had just threatened to dox a minor was extremely shareable among Trump supporters, including one of the president’s own sons:

Witness the wicked falsehoods that poison the alt-right racist’s tweetstorm narrative - they’re saying a redditor is 15 years old, but he’s actually older! This is entirely fucking immaterial to the discussion, of course, but fuck that. This justifies calling the natural and expected backlash a “mix of truth and fiction.”

Others called for a very personal form of revenge against CNN, and Kaczynski specifically. A link to a pastebin page that appeared to contain the personal identifying information of Kaczynski, some of his family members and his colleagues circulated on 4chan Wednesday morning.

Reporters are public figures by definition - at the very least, the place where the reporters work is public information by dint of reporters putting their names on their fucking articles. It’s called a by-line.

And the neo-Nazi Daily Stormer website called for even more. A popular post called for CNN employees to quit their jobs and denounce the network, or face consequences if they didn’t:

In one breath, the twitter backlash is directly associated with a fucking neo-Nazi website. No justification, no elaboration, just straight-up, straight-faced smear-job. The Dire Threat voiced by these neo-Nazis? Threatening to "track down” reporters families. Which is all publicly available information to begin with, mind you - “doxxing” is explicitly the de-anonymization of internet speech by linking an internet username/handle with a real-life identity. So even the scary Neo-Nazis are threatening to do fucking nothing past copy-pasting the reporter’s name off his CNN article’s byline into Facebook search. Oooh scaaary

It’s a particularly threatening version of an inversion that is common on the Internet today: keep reporting on the Trump Internet, and the Trump Internet will decide it’s “reporting” on you. And many mainstream outlets are still struggling to contend with it.

This, the last paragraph, is the crown jewel of the article. Yes, the media is the real victim!

When I was earning my Journalism degree, discussion of the media’s failure to adapt to the new paradigm of Twitter et al was a major and ongoing discussion, as journalists scrambled to understand where their niche was in the digital age. Instead of recognizing that they had what every asshole on the streetcorner with a smartphone and a Twitter app did not - professional training, a list of Important People who’d answer the phone when they called, and credibility - they tried to compete with every asshole on Twitter vis a vis getting the “scoop” or being “timely,” and naturally, they’re failing miserably, which is why the New York Times is laying off a bunch of their employees. That they’re financially threatened by “alternative media” is so well known that Washington Post reporters are openly joking about it in interviews:

What advice do you have for a 32-year-old stuck in a dying medium who is sent to interview 9-year-olds?

Thus nobody’s blinked in the past when the traditional media attacks alternative media - it was seen as a natural reaction to the looming threat to their very livelihoods. It’s hard to give equitable treatment to people taking food out of your kids mouths. But this is something else - this is media privilege on full display.

The media having an arrogance problem is nothing new - former CBS News Emmy Award-winning journalist Bernard Goldberg wrote a book literally titled Arrogance about the problem back in 2004, and I myself blogged about the astounding gall the media had to think they could demonize Trump and literally call him Hitler for eight months, then waltz into his office to discuss “access” with his administration. Or CNN telling people on-air that it’s illegal for anyone but the media to see Hillary’s wiki-leaked e-mails, a claim so asinine that even the Washington Post couldn’t swallow it.

But despite that - despite all of that - this latest debacle still shocked me. The depths of their arrogant belief in their own sacrosanct status as harbingers of truth is so deep, so pure, that they’re willing to make fools of themselves to punish some random chucklefuck on Reddit becuase he made le dank meme video. And punishment is exactly what they’re handing out, here. There’s already a term to describe this kind of mindset, when it’s so pervasive and complete that any challenge to it is met with force and fury. “Privilege.”

It’s truly fucking incredible. Even more incredible is the WaPo’s complaining like they, the media giants with control of a massive megaphone and the worship of the far left, are the victims here, because people on Twitter disagree with the media’s blatant thuggery. I’ve covered before how deep they’ve retreated into their own fantasy worlds, their own hallucinatory version of reality, but once again, they exceeded even my expectations. A boundless confidence in their own righteousness is one thing, but they truly think they are untouchable. They didn’t judge the predicted backlash to be inconsequential, or contemptible because it’d come from the filthy conservatives - because if they had, they wouldn’t be scrambling to do damage control against fucking Twitter.

Anyway, while we’re at it, there’s some less significant things I wanted to have a giggle at - Sargon of Akkad (who’s videos I’ve been listening to now, at long last,) does a weekly “This Week In Stupid” segment, and now I can see why - so much piles up, so fast, and all of it’s worth mocking. Again, the WaPo is our go-to source of giggles.

Trump’s Voter Fraud commission recently asked all 50 states for as much info on voter information as they could provide, including the last four digits of their Social Security number. The great majority of states replied with a simple shrug and nod - as this state-by-state breakdown details, many states already provide voter roll data publicly, and others release it for a processing/handling charge to anyone who requests it (often political campaigns looking to get demographic data.) Every state demurred on the “last-four digits of the SSN”, simply because their state laws forbid such information disclosure due to privacy concerns - but aside from that considered the request mundane as hell.

Of course, the dissenters were most amusing, and - before you read this - I wish to stress that, as stated by other states SecStates in this very article, many states publicly post this information online for free download:

California: "California's participation would only serve to legitimize the false and already debunked claims of massive voter fraud," Secretary of State Alex Padilla, a Democrat, said in a statement.

Kentucky: “As the commonwealth's secretary of state and chief election official, I do not intend to release Kentuckians' sensitive personal data to the federal government," Kentucky Secretary of State Alison Lundergan Grimes said in a statement. "The president created his election commission based on the false notion that 'voter fraud' is a widespread issue. It is not."

New York: Democratic Gov. Andrew Cuomo announced Friday his decision not to comply with the commission's request for information. He said state laws include safeguards to protect sensitive voting information and that the state "refuses to perpetuate the myth voter fraud played a role in our election."

“WE HAVE NOTHING TO HIDE!” scream people hiding information most states publish publicly.

New Mexico: Democratic Secretary of State Maggie Toulouse-Oliver says she will never release personally identifiable information for New Mexico voters that is protected by law, including Social Security numbers and dates of birth. She also declined to provide information such as names and voting histories unless she is convinced the information is secured and will not be used for "nefarious or unlawful purposes."

Yes, the information most states literally give away free might be used for ~nefarious purposes.~ But it gets better. It gets so much fucking better:

Mississippi: Mississippi Secretary of State Delbert Hosemann, a Republican, said in a statement Friday that he had not received the request for information from the Trump commission, but another secretary of state had forwarded the correspondence to him. In a federal court case after a contentious U.S. Senate primary in Mississippi in 2014, a group called True the Vote sued Mississippi seeking similar information about voters, and Hosemann fought that request and won. Hosemann said if he receives a request from the Trump commission, "My reply would be: They can go jump in the Gulf of Mexico, and Mississippi is a great state to launch from." Hosemann also said: "Mississippi residents should celebrate Independence Day and our state's right to protect the privacy of our citizens by conducting our own electoral processes."

“DROWN YOURSELF.” How rational and polite.

Vermont: Vermont's top election official, Democrat Jim Condos, said Friday he is bound by law to provide the publicly available voter file, but that does not include Social Security numbers or birth dates. Condos said he must first receive an affidavit signed by the commission chairman, as required by Vermont law. He said there is no evidence of the kind of fraud alleged by Trump. "I believe these unproven claims are an effort to set the stage to weaken our democratic process through a systematic national effort of voter suppression and intimidation," he said.

Virginia: "At best this commission was set up as a pretext to validate Donald Trump's alternative election facts, and at worst is a tool to commit large-scale voter suppression," said Gov. Terry McAuliffe, a Democrat.

Ah, yes. Asking for this data most sates make available publicly is really part of a vast-right wing conspiracy to bully voters! Good old voter suppression. That easy, sweeping catch-all claim applied by Democrats when possible voter fraud is brought up. They claim voter fraud never ever ever happens, but that those evil rednecks go around intimidating people away from the polls just like those Jim Crow racists did in the 60s. Speaking of - isn’t it curious that Kentucky and Mississippi - very conservative southern states - would resist disclosing information? And that Mississippi’s Republican SecState - which has already fended off grassroots attempts to dig into their voter roll records - would have such a curiously vehement response? Gee, really makes you think, doesn’t it?

Naturally, the WaPo has the best comedic value for the column-inch as they detail their foaming-mad delusions:

It’s no secret: Under the guise of fighting “voter fraud,” they’ll use it as a tool to disenfranchise thousands, perhaps even millions of people, in order to solidify the Republican advantage in elections.

But how, WaPo? Are they going to round them up and execute them en-masse? Shove them in concentration camps? Steal the wheels off their cars on Election Day?

Meanwhile, tens of thousands of Kansans have been blocked from registering by the 2011 law he championed that requires documentary proof of citizenship in order to register.

You can prove citizenship with your fucking ID card (Kansas, like most states, will issue “state ID cards” for people who don’t drive or otherwise have no need of a driver’s license,) a tax return, or anything else. For fucks sake, you even need to disclose your residency status (citizen or non-citizen) to enroll in welfare. So who exactly are these tens of thousands that are being excluded? Oh, do you have a single fucking cite for that breathtaking claim, oh journalist?

We see this pattern again and again: Republicans complain that there is some huge voter fraud problem that requires sweeping new laws in order to solve, but when it’s investigated, it turns out that the problem is somewhere between microscopic and nonexistent. But in the meantime, they’ve stolen thousands of people’s voting rights — people who just happen to disproportionately be Democrats.

“Disproportionately be Democrats.” Like the illegal immigrants, amirite?

The second apparent goal is more direct: Create lists of allegedly questionable voters that they’ll give to states in order to convince them to purge those people from the rolls, by showing that they might be registered in more than one place.

Pure speculation based on a grand total of fucking nothing. Much of the article revolves around this assertion that Kobach just wants to blindly de-register duplicate names, instead of, you know, updating the fucking voter rolls so they’re current, or something. Which would make them actually useful for detecting fraud. Gee, why do left-wingers consistently sue to prevent voter rolls from being updated? And note the New York and Ohio cases involve purging the rolls of voters who haven’t voted - in New York’s case, since 2008. If you don’t do something, how the hell do you purge dead people from the rolls? And why would Democrats have a vested interest in keeping these records too cluttered and useless for detecting actual fraud, if there’s none going on? Really tickles the fuckin noggin, doesn’t it?

Let’s be clear: The sole purpose of this commission on “election integrity” is to suppress votes and give the GOP a structural advantage in every election. It’s being led by Kris Kobach, whose twin missions in life are to scale back immigration and to make voting more difficult.

Are they implying that mass immigration benefits Democrats at the polls? Could that possibly explain why Democrats have done everything in their power - especially under Obama - to inhibit any attempt to enforce Federal immigration law? Gee fuckin whiz.

These people are not trying to determine whether there are problems with our voting system and find the best solutions to those problems. They have come together to promote the myth of voter fraud and enable vote suppression in order to advantage the Republican Party.

“The Vast Right Wing Conspiracy - evidence, MY ASS!” HEY GUYS, QUICK FACT CHECK - HOW MANY TURRETS DOES ARIZONA HAVE?

And last, but not least - witness this demented screed arguing that Trump’s second scoop of ice cream will make us all sick, and that Trump has a duty to the nation to be skinny and hit the gym while listening to cool music on his Ipod.

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jenmedsbookreviews · 7 years

Text

Not been a lot going on in my life this week if I’m being perfectly honest. Bit of work, bit of training, bit of budget preparation, bit of reading and a bit of Bloody Scotland. Quite a bit of Bloody Scotland to be fair and what a wonderful weekend of bookishness it has been too. I’m not going to bore you all with details today, that is tomorrow’s pleasure, but I will say that if you have any opportunity to attend this most wonderous of book events then you should do so. It is fabulous.

And they have haggis!

Becuase work has been manic and because I have been away generally enjoying myself rather than doing anything else, I’ve been a bit pants on the reading front this week. Hasn’t stopped me from buying and preordering books, just reading them. I did receive some cracking book post too which had me grinning from ear to ear.

First up was a hard copy of the Bloody Scotland short story collection. I was on the blog tour for this over the weekend with a guest post from one of the writers and festival organisers, Gordon Brown. On the very same day, I also received a copy of This is How It Ends, the new release from Eva Dolan, due out in January 2018. I am so very stoked to have received both of these so thanks to both Fiona Brownlee and Bloomsbury for sending them.

In a rather humourous twist of fate, the day after Eva’s book arrived in the post I also got approved for it on Netgalley. Well, it made me chuckle. Other books I had from Netgalley this week include The Mistake by KL Slater and We’ll Always Have Christmas by Jenny Hale, both for blog tours so I can be forgiven.

Book order wise, I may have slung a couple in the basket. As ya do. First up, the upcoming release from Kerry Fisher, The Secret Child. I also ordered The Legacy by Yrsa Sigurdardottir and its follow up, The Reckoning, due for release in 2018. Next up were a couple more pre-orders, Hydra by Matt Wesolowski, and Now You See Me by Kierney Scott. And because I like to be prepared, last but by no means least was the second book in the Hidden Iceland series from Ragnar Jonasson, The Island. It’s not out until 2019. I have time to save up for that one 😀

Now, sadly, because I have been in a book festival all weekend, I have been forced into accepting free books and purchasing new ones. Freebies I got were Bloody January by Alan Parks, The Bone Keeper by Luca Veste and Head Case by Ross Armstrong. Purchase wise I went in for some old favourites, filling up my Henning Juul collection with the first three books in paperback, Burned, Pierced and Scarred (signed by the lovely Mr Enger) and House of Spines by Michael Malone from the book launch pop up.

See. Not too many books at all really. Sort of. Ish.

Reading wise it was a fairly paltry effort of two books. And a bit more of the Bloody Scotland collection. Oh and 2/3 of an audio book so it could be worse I suppose.

Books I have read

Reach for the Stars by Colleen Coleman

When Evelyn Dooley married her high-school sweetheart, James, she thought she was set for life. Now she’s 28, single, and fleeing to Dublin from her small hometown to avoid the gossip surrounding their break-up.

This was not in her five-year plan.

Then a chance encounter with gorgeous musician Danny leads to an unlikely friendship, and soon the pair are running music nights together. Surrounded by new friends and a welcoming community, Evelyn is building a life that she really loves – and sparks are beginning to fly between her and Danny…

But when her savings run out and home beckons, Evelyn has to choose. The safe, comfortable life she left behind, or a new adventure with Danny? Will Evelyn flee back to the familiarity of her ex, or reach for the stars and take a leap into the unknown?

WEll this book really did make me smile. I’m not going to tell you quite how much until next week when I’m part of the blog blitz but if you like a feel good story of a woman striving out on her own and finding happniess in the unlikeliest of places, then this book will most definitely be for you. You can pre-order a copy here.

…

Maria in the Moon by Louise Beech

Long ago my beloved Nanny Eve chose my name. Then one day she stopped calling me it. I try now to remember why, but I just can’t.’

Thirty-two-year-old Catherine Hope has a great memory. But she can’t remember everything. She can’t remember her ninth year. She can’t remember when her insomnia started. And she can’t remember why everyone stopped calling her Catherine-Maria.

With a promiscuous past, and licking her wounds after a painful breakup, Catherine wonders why she resists anything approaching real love. But when she loses her home to the devastating deluge of 2007 and volunteers at Flood Crisis, a devastating memory emerges … and changes everything.

Dark, poignant and deeply moving, Maria in the Moon is an examination of the nature of memory and truth, and the defences we build to protect ourselves, when we can no longer hide…

Pretty much yep to all that it says above. This book will make you pause and reflect and, unable to escape either it’s poignancy or darkness, it will most definitely move you. I am taking part in the blog tour in a couple of weeks when I’ll be sharing my full review but this is another superb offering from Ms Beech which you can order here.

…

And that was it. I’m not going to lay claim to the audiobook as I’ve not finished yet and I shall be pootling through the remaining Bloody Scotland stories over the next week. Blog wise, I’ve been busy as heck again so that is somethign at least.

#GuestPost: Amy Rogers – Author of The Han Agent

#Blogtour: Death in Dulwich by Alice Castle

#Blogtour: The Fourth Friend by Joy Ellis

#Blogtour: Writing Diverse Characters by Lucy V Hay

#BlogTour: Dan Knew by Fiona Curlew

#BookLove: Claire Brown @CLBrown_author

#BlogTour: Bloody Scotland: Guest post by Gordon Brown

#BlogBlitz: The Girl Who Came Back by Kerry Wilkinson

I’ve another fairly busy week ahead, personally, professionally and bloggingly. You’re only interested in the blog though (if that) so here you go. Tomorrow, if I remember to write it today, there will be a bit of a round up of Bloody Scotland. I will be sharing the book love with Eve Seymour and Patricia Osborne. I have a brand new review and I will also be taking aprt in the blog blitz for The Missing Girls by Carol Wyer. And hopefully reading. I have plenty of that planned.

Have a fabulous week all. See you same time next week

Jen

Rewind, recap: weekly update w/e 10/09/17 Not been a lot going on in my life this week if I'm being perfectly honest. Bit of work, bit of training, bit of budget preparation, bit of reading and a bit of…

#Bloody Scotland #Rewind Recap #Weekly Round UP

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tmblogs · 7 years

Text

April 22, 2017

Ok well I woke up today at like 6:30 and surprisingly didnt have a headache but was a little dizzy and nauseous. I made myself tea and showered to get the smell off me. Anna picked me up around 7:30 and we arived at tatem at 7:45 it was a fun time we taped a lot of shit and carried a lot of shit it was cool. Then at ten we went and got bagels together which was fun and rested in the back together for a few minutes before heading back. We went back to tatem and we found the lady that was supposed to assign us. She assigned us to the rides out side. We helped dylan with the train, or rather I did everything, and they just stood around while I scrambled. It was really fun though I liked that part. Then we took off at twelve, and I headed to edible arrangements to train. I got there, and me, and kacy talked for a while. She’s this girl that graduated last year and is dating sam cost. I told her I was there for same costs first kiss, and shit it was fun. Then they made me climb up onto a counter and into the cieling to fix something, and that was fun and unexpected so thats cool. Me and kristal trained, and made some smoothies, and then she taught me how to squeeze the oranges andmake orange juice, which is cool that they fresh squeeze orange juice. Oh also Isaac made a post about last night that I didn’t really like, but I posted about it on my other blog so wont talk about it again. They let me off at like 2:40, and I ran home in the rain. I got caleb up, and ready to come although he was reluctant, but he made the barbecue much better I think, becauuse instead of me and anna just talking, or being forced to join the adult convo me her and caleb could just hang out. We needed to bring something though so we picked up some beer, and cannolis on the way there, and I actually enjoyed the cannoli id never had one before but it was good. So ruth played with the phoebe, and the parents talked and laughed the whole time which was goo, and then it was me caleb and anna, and we had good fun. Then we ate dinner together and it was really good, and the chicken was fucking great so was the homeade bread, but I ate way to much of both, and got really full, but they had so much chicken I didn’t want it to go to waste so I had more. Then afterwards we all signed a book, and her mom wanted that thing I wrote about dating, but I didnt want to give it to her, because I think my oppinion on dating has changed quite a bit, but whatever. Then my family left, but me and anna wanted to hang out so I stayed for a few minutes with her family while she grabbed her keys and my knife. We were supposed to get icecream with just a few of her friends, but then it started to grow which was fine until jason was coming then I got scared as fuck, but I knew anna wanted to hang out so I decided I could do it, but I had to go through my excersizes in my head to get ready for that. They were just my normal power exercises, and I mean I knew I could pull it off succesful but I was still scared and nervous as fuck, and then anna was like also lets try not to do pda around them, and then I was really scared because that was going to be my fall back if I couldnt take it so then I needed a new fall back, and I knew amy was coming and I mean its really fucking easy to talk to her I mean for me so and I knew at least if I didnt get along with anyone else and I needed to hide or remove myself I could talk to her so that was my new fallback plan. Then I hyped myself up a lot to get ready for socialization, because I also wanted to make it seem like I was loud and the center of the group mostly to distract from jason and make everyone focus on me instead, and that worked well and was good because then I had people to talk to. Also I am so sad that me and amy dont hang anymorre because before everything that happened we were really good fucking friends and then we had a falling out because she had to fall for me, but yeah so it was good talking to her again, because I always get sad that I cant hang with her anymore. Cassidy was fun, ciara was fun although there was some drama going on that I had no idea about until afterwards. Not having pda worked to and I was totally fine without it. I mean I love pda but I thought it would have been worse without it then it was. We were all at arctic freeze which was some trendy icecream place that rolls the icecream. It was good I was really full from dinner and only ate a little. They all arrived 30 minutes after we did and the place was packed it was really crowded, and then amy and anders ordered shit, and it was taking for ever. Isaac and Jason and I forget who else left like really early in the middle of everything very abruptly which was weird. But good, because I didn’t have to worry about him. Also apparently he was going to confront me some time during the night I was just like why???? dont talk to me or bring anything up thats bad we are all having good fun and we aarent bothering each other dont ruin the mood. It never happened though which I think was good so. We all rendevouzed at amys house and that again was good nothing bad we went to her basement. Anna started getting tired then and crashed a little. Then amy oddly did the same thing and I wasnt sure if it was becuase she was tired and being drowned out or if she felt weird seeing me and anna together, if it was the second one I felt bad. Then people started to leave so then I left with annd and the whole drama with maggie started which I wont explain but it was with ciara, and we went and scooped her. She ranted to us and we talked to her we went to wawa and she bought to fucking large backs of chip idk what she needs those chips for but it was a lot. Then we drove around and got to merchantville. It was a little sketch and a little scary, so then we started home. We made a really fucking fast turn at a higher speed and almost hit a fucking car but we were fine. While driving I was reading the dircetionsand looking at the map to tell anna where to go. While I was a text popped up from jason, which I didn’t like. He said I love you, and like something else maybe get back to me as soon as possible. I didn’t like that. I mean I of course text all my good friends like that. “Hey clare” “Hmmm doesnt seem like you are at your phone” “I LOVE YOU get back to me as soon as you can” People wonder why I have beef with him and it is because he is in love with my girlfriend and then says things like I love you that is why, and until he stops no we arent going to be friends. I just didnt like it. Then we dropped maggie off, and parked for a little near my house neither of us were really awake enough to like make out but we gently kissed for a little, and then just talked and layed together which was just as nice. Then I kissed her good bye a few times, and left. All in all a good ass day, started my job, was able to hang out in a group with jason, got to hang out with amy and have it not be to weird, got to hang out with anna the whole day basically, the barbecue went well, I got to help little children get on a train, I got to kiss anna, I love anna, sorry I am getting of track, but it was all in all a fulfilling day.

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one-of-us-must-be-crazy · 5 years

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"Please trust me."

Electric sheep, he wished he never read the book, becuase that’s all he can think of right now. Fully aware that he can’t technically be dreaming, fully aware he’s doing something very similar, and only vaguely aware that in reality, he’s very probably shutting down for the last time,

“SAMUELS!” Amanda—Ripley—Amanda 01101001 01101110 01100110 01101111 01110010 01101101 01100001 01101100 01101001 01110100 01111001 00100000 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01110000 01110010 01101001 01100001 01110100 01100101 00100000 01110101 01110011 01100101 RIPLEY. Human hands on metal and industrial glass that could likely make bullets bounce. Heat. Smell of burning plastic. Not a smell, an alert. Am–RIPLEY–shouting. Alert. Smoke. Alert. Electrical fire. Alert. Battery depletion, emergency power. WARNING. UNAUTHORIZED WEYLAND-YUTANI SYSTEM ACCESS: APOLLO. 01100011 01101111 01101110 01100110 01101111 01110010 01101101 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01101110 01100101 01110111 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01110100 01101111 01100011 01101111 01101100 01110011 00100000 01111001 00101111 01101110 00111111

“Don’t move,” Amanda says, softly, quietly, and no notice flashes in his mind. He can’t even draw up the time and temperature to his line of vision, only focused on her. Amanda in some soft-to-the-touch (to his touch) set of nightclothes, perched next to him on some landscape that pixelates at the edges where the water meets the sky.

“What if I want to?” he lifts a hand, unhindered by any kind of code, nothing stopping him, as if he can make the choice himself.

He pushes her hair back behind her ear, revealing a smile, and leaves the hand on the side of her face, a smile softer than he’s ever seen on her forms, a little blurred but nothing his AI can’t form in decent clarity from knowledge of the human facial structure.

You’re dreaming.

“Samuels, you’re dying.”

“If you’re going to move, then move over.”

“I like it right here though,” he’s smiling back at her, and she’s next to him now, playing shoving him aside on a blanket, pattern unknown, blurred like it’s not really there. They’re on the floor. Grass. No, sand. They’re on a beach. There’s water meeting sky on the horizon and as the world fades off into nothing beyond them he’s only a little aware of heat. Fire, small fire, contained, safe in front of them. No one else is around. Why is she in nightclothes outside. Originally it was snowing.

“You’re right, it’s cozy,” words, logic, dialogue, her shirt stretches as she twists and he can access her shoulder, her throat free of those worrying bruises he saw on her when she came into the room earlier–hour–minutes–now?–he’s glad for it, this can’t, not even here, tug it aside himself, but now he leans forward and kisses down her neck, his eyes flutter closed against his will, and he forces them open.

There is a demon in a metal room and he is on the floor.

There is an unidentified biological hazard in synthetics, and Ripley has left.

“Please, trust me?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t force your eyes open like that, stay here with me,” she mumbles, and a hiss from the room melts into the background of spray from the waves crashing twenty feet away from their fire, a log in it cracking and hissing too.

“I…I am looking at you. I can see you.”

“Then don’t vanish again.” She curls into his side, tilts up to kiss him as she has just been kissed, but he isn’t sure of the feeling of it, isn’t sure he doesn’t prefer if she were to kiss him on the mouth, or else work her away around every bit of his surface area, so he can best figure where he likes to be kissed by her lips, flesh-tone, but he likes the color. He likes all her colors, in the dark everything is tinted dark blue, or silver, or orange from the fire-glow. Amanda in technicolor like a night sky painting where the Sun is still brilliant orange.

Her hair looks longer than it should, he plays with it while she breathes steadily. He lifts her wrist, kisses the inside of it, kisses wherever he can touch her, and Amanda smiles, moves onto his lap, and steadying herself with hands on his shoulders, she kisses his mouth. It’s nice, very nice, but he’s unsure if Amanda really wants to do this.

“Trust me,” she says again, like she’s reading his mind that he feels strange and wants to try to open his already-open eyes again.

“I do trust you.”

“You did everything you could. You helped me. I’m only upset that you’re trying to leave,”

“Leave where? I don’t want to go.” he’s suddenly aware of something else, a sense that he’s moving backwards even though he sees his hands on her arms.

01000001 01000011 01000011 01000101 01010000 01010100 00100000 01000001 01010000 01001111 01001100 01001100 01001111 00100000 01010000 01010010 01001111 01010100 01001111 01000011 01001111 01001100 01010011 00111111

Sees his hands around her throat.

Sees his hands on her arms, holding her to him as she’s holding him to herself.

“Stay with me, Christopher?”

“I want to. I am.”

“You know that Ripley doesn’t love you?” she asks, strange, becuase she is Ripley, and does.

“I know that. I don’t know if I love her myself.”

“You know that Ripley could love you? There’s a chance. She thinks you’re dead, you are dying. But if you were alive, she could have loved you one day. You probably already love her, even if you don’t recognize that feeling yet.”

“Amanda—”

“You won’t exist soon.”

“I know–I know, please I don’t want to–I don’t want to leave–I love you, and I don’t know what that means, but I want to know, and if you really think I’m alive why–What if I was human, what if we had—had time and you knew me—Amy please, stop–” her image is fading, their fire is gone, the ocean is silent, still. The sand lost it’s texture and the blanket is the same color as the ground now.

Now everything is black, he’s focusing on an image, but Amanda is not there as he’s seen her, she is in her jumpsuit from earlier–ten minutes–98 seconds–ago and she’s injured and shaking, and there’s blurs around her eyes through the grim from tears of pain, shock, fear, grief.

“Samuels?”

“Ripley.”

Everything is gone but her, and he tries to focus on something smaller, on her eyes, on her face, keep it clear as long as he can.

#kinda want to add this to LS now for a scene where she finally gets him to turn back on #LS #outreotter

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