#blue maga are fucking exhausting

[molotoph]

Magic functionally is a shorthand for the intricate systemic structures of white supremacy’s power by reducing them from a massive stranglehold of checks and balances to uphold each other ad infinitum, to a single power source that when removed removes all of their weapons and ability to enforce their own genocidal order, you obstinate shit brained brat.

Let’s check our notes on how well America’s beautiful and totally real democracy is working out for the reduction of genocide against indigenous people at home and abroad, how it’s working out protecting the lives and rights of black people, of trans people, of the poverty class. OH RIGHT IT’S FUCKING NOT, AND IT ULTIMATELY IS WORKING AS IT WAS DESIGNED TO WORK. But whatever, enjoy your corporate sponsored brat summer.

Telling anarchy to constantly look for a “better option” when what you mean is “an option where neither I nor the ruling class whose aesthetics make me endlessly sympathetic to and patient with them never have to lose anything uwu” is just a refusal to engage with a reality that at the end of the day you aren’t willing to allow in. I have my lattes and my duvet but I also have my fucking rage, I have my love for my human siblings the globe over, I have my comrades’ support to lean on when I’m weak. My praxis defines how I seek a better world. You don’t get to keep whiteness.

Nobody gets to keep whiteness. I don’t want it. It is a stain on me that separates me from others who rightfully must shut it out. But sure. I’m not worth arguing with. “Arguing to” you’re not giving me your dnc debate. An argument isn’t a matter of preaching. I don’t think you’re worth arguing with either, you leave the taste of Vaush and blue wave in my mouth. I’m showing your words to other people to show how y’all aren’t interested in any revolution because when we get down to it sweetheart, you don’t find anything wrong enough to leave. And other anarchists can do the work to try to hold baby’s little hand through understanding human rights, but I won’t bother. You being angy isn’t as valuable as time that could be spent with my comrades, with learning history, with trying to save lives by killing Nazis.

“Nazis didn’t use magic uwu” no shit. They used the irl equivalent. If we had magic here you wouldn’t fucking understand anyway. “Distribute the whiteness instead” You poor thing.

Tell me what the difference is in what it does to cities and human bodies between carpet bombing and a horizon darkened by 12 story suits of armor. The difference between a wand blast and a drone strike. Does a sparkle cupcake blast shield your delicate little eyes from the gore of a child shot twice in the head better from the same body they leave dead. Is a body mangled under hundreds of unicorn hooves functionally different than one run over by a tank.

You aesthetics diehards don’t have shit to say. “Buh buh the framing” makes you feel better about your culpability in an imperial core. Sure is a lot of flowery prose layered on top of “I don’t care enough to be willing to change anything.” We’re all trapped in it. I’m American, and I’m culpable for not doing enough to stop this. I’m afraid of getting butchered by fascists and my fear paralysis lets them kill unimpeded by me. I am willing to own my failures here. I am willing to let them hurt me and I am hoping my anger and my love will soon override my fear. What exactly are you holding onto that bends your body into a human shield of the fascist state. Your comfort isn’t as valuable to them as you think it is. Your comfort isn’t an impenetrable wall keeping the revolution out.

[traegorn]

hi! i'm a young leftist lives in a moderate household. i just turned 18 this year, so i'm really excited to vote for the very first time.

you popped up on my timeline and i wanted to say thank you for a breath of fresh air. i can't wrap my head around some of the arguments leftists are sharing that imply or outright say that trump and harris are equivalent, that to even choose between the two signifies moral failure. seeing people ignore any political victories and helpful policies democrats have created, suggesting that they won't cement roe v. wade or student debt forgiveness on purpose... i'm no political expert but it's just been a lot.

i hate their specific attack on voting, as if it's the only thing that makes you complicit, and the many products and services we use simply by being americans are morally clean. seeing so many leftist creators promote this idea and pretty much exclusively demean libs and harris, as if trump and the scary things the republican party are doing in certain states don't even exist, has been exhausting. don't get me wrong - we should be critical of politicians - but i'd expect the critique to at least be proportional.

i don't know how people can hear trump say kamala harris is anti-israel and not understand that things can get worse. it doesn't make the suffering happening now any better, but it can get worse. do people really think "oh well genocide is already happening, what more can trump do?"

and to act like caring about minorities and disadvantaged people in america is a privileged, selfish thing to do is absolutely insane. i live in a blue state, comfortably middle class - my life will be fine either way. but i still care about other people! explicitly giving zero fucks about any american at all doesn't seem productive. that's surely going to draw people towards us!

maybe i'm idealistic but voting works - look at everything that's happened after trump's presidency. look at what the republicans and magas, showing up for their candidate, did for them. i know so many moderates who hate trump who still support the republican party in every way they can, in the voting booth and outside, simply because it's more beneficial for their personal gains.

it's cynical, but we can do the same, can't we? suck it up, realize that one of these two will be elected no matter what, and do our best to push the actually reasonable candidate further to the left?

maybe i really am just a liberal, fake leftist lol.

No, you're a leftist. It's the people refusing to vote and actually do something about the real problems in the world who are the fake ones.

I'm glad you get to vote, and that you have your head on right. We're in this together, and we can get it done.

Hell yeah.

[dross-the-fish]

I really hate how some of the wealthy white retirees in my area have just replaced the "N word" with the word "thug" When they talk about "thugs" hanging out at the gas station vaping and listening to obscene music they mean black teenagers socializing listening to hip-hop. I see them every so often for myself, they're literally just kids talking to their friend on his smoke break. But they're wearing hoodies, and existing sort of loudly in public so I guess that's menacing *eyeroll* It's so fucking exhausting because it's always the people who think they're good. They think all they need to do to pass some invisible "not racist" bar is to avoid using slurs. And they can't even do that right because all they're doing is turning different words into new slurs and when you call them out on it they go "Well I don't mean all black people I just mean a certain type" that certain type invariably being any black person who exists in public in a group of more than two and isn't dressed like they're elderly and heading to church. It's also mostly the older folks who move down here from up north because we live on the coast and the cost of living here is very cheap so they come down here to retire or to buy vacation homes and it's always "I didn't think there'd be so may thugs down here." Welcome to the south I guess? For as much as northerners who settle down here will brag about being less racist than the MAGA hat wearing christian fundie locals the only real difference I've seen is that their version of racism is slightly more subtle and round about and more likely to be covered in a thin veneer of "vote blue/life long democrat" liberalism.

[ploshansky]

i feel like i'm going insane. the same people that taught me growing up not to trust everything i read on the internet are now calling things like tik tok and facebook the last bastion of truth. my dad legitimately thinks that republicans can't do anything wrong because they're "people of God," and that newsmax is unbiased.

all the conspiracies surrounding natural disasters are something i couldn't conceive in my wildest dreams. maybe i was a little too optimistic but i didn't think people had gone that far into the maga cult of personality. i always expect for there to be some tin foil hat freak on the fringes of the internet claiming that the government's behind all of it, but there are people in the government pushing conspiracies.

people's lives are uprooted, and they're probably going to endure the aftershock for the rest of their lives, and so will their kids. their lives have been separated into before and after, and conservatives are treating them like collateral damage in some larger war.

what gets me most about all of this is that there's no outcome in which these people are satisfied. not one. from here on out, if some devastating event is just as bad, God forbid worse than what is/was being reported, it's a controlled attack by the government/the elite/[insert group here] etc. if it's underwhelming, then the news and/or the experts are not only unreliable, then they're also controlled by some higher power for some malicious reason. and as if that's not vile enough, at the end of it all, the victims who will spend months if not YEARS rebuilding and looking for some semblance of normalcy are forgotten. the REAL victim is always trump. "how can i make this about trump."

while i watched people online sobbing because they didn't have the resources to evacuate, guilty that they couldn't do more for their parents, kids, friends, pets, etc. people stuck on evacuation routes, people lucky enough to evacuate worried sick about whether or not they would even have a home to come back to, i also saw people confidently saying that milton was a ploy to destroy mar a largo. it's fucking insane behavior.

i hate to come off as sanctimonious because i feel like there's this weird obsession (especially among gen z) where everyone wants to have a cause, but i'm just so astounded at the lack of humanity. i can't even really say i'm angry, i'm just exhausted and sad. it's one thing to watch psychopaths on twitter promote these absurd ideas instead of being productive, but it's another when i have to watch my own family buy into these fantastical ideas, and defend how i had nothing to do with this stuff because i voted blue or because i'm vaccinated. nothing can ever just be a horrible and unfortunate situation anymore. nobody will ever reach across the aisle ever again. these people will never ever be satisfied.

[liquidlifeform]

I’m from Grand Rapids, this is sickening to the very core. I extend my heart to those in my community who are suffering at the hands of these racist anti-semites. I’m here for you. We have to hold up each other.

‘Trump’ and ‘MAGA’ Spray-Painted on Gravestones in Michigan Jewish Cemetery

ARTICLE EXCERPT: This act of vandalism at Ahavas Israel Cemetery, discovered hours before President Trump arrived across town to stage his final rally of the campaign, has rattled the tightknit Jewish community in western Michigan’s largest city. The crime is being investigated by law enforcement officials, according to the Anti-Defamation League.

On Monday, November 2nd (the eve of the 2020 presidential election), it was discovered that earlier that morning AntiSemitic Trump Supporters had vandalized the cemetery belonging to the Grand Rapids Jewish Community. This act was committed on the day Donald Trump was set to speak at one of his final re-election rallies. The words “TRUMP” and “MAGA” were written in red spray paint across many loved ones gravestones. The grave tagging incident is NOT the first AntiSemitic attack the Grand Rapids Jewish Community has faced within the past year. This also comes as AntiSemitic violent acts continue to rise not only in the United States, but globally. Like, y’all this is so disgusting.

WaPo Article Link

[luxekook]

THE SEVEN || prologue

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: supernatural au with action, angst, smut, and (trace amounts of) fluff

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader fights to survive, attracts a powerful group of demons, and causes general mayhem in a post-apocalyptic new world

⇥ word count: 1.5k

⇥ warnings: nc17, *this fic has scenes of graphic violence*, demons, bloodshed, anarchy, general apocalyptic things, cursing, eventual poly relationship, a made-up language, hints of desire to own, brief mention of abuse, an attempt at world-building

⇥ beta reader: heathy @shadowsremedy​​ - thank u so much!!! i was holding off on beginning this fic for so long, and you really helped me move forward! uwu<3

Prologue

The world has completely gone to shit, I think to myself as my blade slices right through my opponent’s eye. The responding roar of the crowd reinforces that thought as the lifeless body slumps to the ground.

Removing my bloodied knife from the man at my feet, I stand, exhaustion kicking in after yet another adrenaline-fueled fight. Gazing out at the surrounding crowd of humans and demons, I narrow my sights on tonight’s guests of honor – the seven demons who would decide if my performance was deemed worthy enough of payment.

Raising my chin in defiance, my eyes meet those of the pompous greed demon of the Ahgase Seven. Lim Jaebeom lounges on a provisional throne flanked by his six brothers. Their combined beauty is ethereal but leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. 

How is it that creatures so prone to evil can be so lovely to look at?

After glancing briefly at each brother, I finally make eye contact with Jackson Wang, the Ahgase’s pride demon. He inclines his head with a satisfied smirk, simultaneously permitting my payment and ordering my swift dismissal.

The callous disregard of my efforts never fails to ignite a familiar burn of fury within me. I fight to the death to earn a week’s worth of food and shelter, and all I get is a fucking nod in response? Complete and utter bullshit if you ask me.

My teeth grind together as I give the slightest and stiffest bow possible in the Ahgase Seven’s general vicinity and stalk out of the Pit. Reminding myself that I actively choose this fate never really helps, given that the alternatives are equally as shit – if not more-so.

Basically, since the planet lost three-fourths of its population in the Reaping, the old capitalistic way of the world is no longer. Now, the main ways to survive deal with what you have to offer as a resource – your body, your skill, your labor, your loyalty. I choose to fight because, for me, it’s the soundest option.

My prior life had been sketchy at best. I had taught Krav Maga, a form of aggressive self-defense and reflexive fighting, to teens and young adults. I also had used Krav Maga (and other more nefarious methods) on abusive parents or guardians, bullies, or romantic partners - the very reasons my students came to my classes.

My resulting ambiguously gray background probably had influenced heaven and hell’s decisions to leave me behind. Still, killing hadn’t come easy for me in the beginning, but now it seems like second nature. In this new era, there are no rules, no moral codes, no winners, no losers. There are only survivors.

And I’ll be damned if I am not one of them.

Last year, the Reaping left us all in chaos and confusion. The supernatural had become natural. Heaven took those deemed worthy and let Hell deal with the rest. But, as it turns out, Hell was just as picky.

For a few days, demons ruthlessly reaped millions of humans and dragged them below the earth. And then the reaping stopped. The humans that remained were left with burned cities, abandoned homes and a complete absence of law. They were a ruthless bunch with questionable backgrounds and ambiguous morals. It honestly made sense that they were left behind – myself included.

The short period after the Reaping brought with it a general mayhem which resulted in looting, fires, and general destruction. The remainder of society was bare-boned, with only the richest areas having luxuries like running water and electricity. I referred to this time period – the lull before the demon Sevens took over – as the pseudo-Hunger Games. I legit had to pull a full Katniss Everdeen in order to stay alive during those two weeks.

Then, finally, the demons rose again.

The demons that rose were power-hungry and desperate to prove themselves worthy to rule over the New Earth. They looked human until you got too close and felt the negative energy that emanated from them. It's almost a built-in warning for those lower on the metaphorical food-chain not to get close to a source of potential harm.

By possessing a demon of each sin category, Sevens were able to bond together and max out their powers. Often, Sevens took on courts and consorts to siphon additional power, but my intel on demons was mostly built on speculation and rumors. The general consensus seemed to be that humans joined demon factions because of the promise of protection, food, and other resources. However, no one usually survived leaving a faction led by a Seven once they had declared fealty.

I vowed to never willingly enter into a Seven’s territory. My freedom and independence were the only things I had left to hold onto. And that was how I ended up in my current situation as a fighter in the Pit, the rough, man-made arena where fighters battle to the death for winnings while the audience bets furiously on their selected victor. No one had bet on me at first, but they learned quickly.

The Pit’s existence sprung out of desperation for distraction. Humans and demons alike needed some form of entertainment away from the monotony and death embedded within everyday life. Located within the Neutral Zone, the Pit provided humans the ability to earn a living and to make a name for themselves. Those that fought in the Pit were only lower on the human totem pole to the Pit Master and to the merchants in the Neutral Zone. Below the fighters were the scavengers, the workers, the peasants, and the lost.

Marching towards the exit gate, I nod to the next competitor to enter the arena – it might be the last I’d see of them. Pit Master Agra greets me as I step through the gate’s threshold and finally out of the public eye.

“Good work,” she forces a smile that only looks like she’s in pain, “But, next time make sure there’s more blood.”

I say nothing.

Agra takes my silence as acceptance and jerks her head at the empty hallway, indicating my second dismissal of the day. “You have one week until your next fight,” she predictably calls as I make my way down the tunnel towards my makeshift room located in the fighters’ dorms.

I wave a hand carelessly behind me in a sign of recognition. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to challenge her in the Pit.

Pausing outside my room, I struggle to unhook my necklace that held my key. The blood on my fingers still has not fully dried, and I grow increasingly frustrated. I just want to bathe, goddamnit.

“Allow me,” a deep voice purrs from behind me. I shudder as two hands suddenly brush my own away from their hold on the necklace. Warm fingers brush the nape of my neck as the sound of a slight inhale meets my ears.

Fuck, I hope this person isn’t smelling me because I am almost certain the combination of sweat and dried blood is extremely unpleasant.

“There,” the voice rasps, “All done.”

My necklace is gone from my neck, and I turn to retrieve it from whoever just assisted me.

“Oh, fuck,” I hiss, taking in the demon before me. His teal hair is wild and reminiscent of a blue flame. His black eyes are large and slanted, fixed on me with a peculiar expression I just cannot place. His clothes are expensive. I peer closer, inspecting the intricate details on his patterned top. Was that Versace? 

In this economy?

His arm extends to mine. My necklace dangles from one finger carelessly. “Here, mì shaìà (my pet).”

“My name is (y/n),” I grab the necklace and shudder when our fingers brush for a split second, “Not Mishaeya.”

The demon smiles. It’s large and boxy and completely predatory. “(Y/n). Mì shaìà. It doesn’t make a difference.”

Am I missing something? 

“Listen, demon-dude, I just killed someone like five minutes ago. Can you stop being cryptic and just tell me why you’re lurking outside my room?”

“Ah, yes,” he stalks closer to me. My back hits the door to my room. He licks his lips, “I was watching you. You are quite the fighter, little one.”

“Little?” I glance down at my thick and well-muscled self, “Mhm, okay.”

“Are you not scared of me, mì shaìà?” His hand cups my chin, thumb darting out to wipe some blood from the shallow cut across my cheek.

“Should I be?” I front like my heart isn’t beating out of my chest.

“Yes,” he smiles before sucking the droplets of my blood from his thumb. “Surely someone as exquisite as you should need protecting. I’m surprised no one owns you yet, (y/n).”

My back straightens, “No one owns me. No one ever will.”

The demon’s head tilts as he silently studies me for a few moments. He looks like he almost wants to say something before he steps back and bows. “Sleep well, mì shaìà. I will be seeing you again.”

I gape as he walks away from me. A thought strikes me. “Hey!” I call after him, “What’s your name?”

He answers without looking back or breaking his stride, “V.”

a/n: i made up Deìthi, the language that the demons use in this story. i will keep a running list of translations at the bottom of each chapter as well as putting initial translations in parentheses following the first usage of the word.

Deìthi (The Language of Demons) Translation List:

Mì shaìà - My pet

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Royal We ch.1 (baon)

Summary: Family helps family. Sometimes right into the path of an oncoming car.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

When they first came to this universe, it hadn’t taken long for Edge to realize that things were very different here than back home in Underfell, (no, not home, not for a long time now). The changes took some time to absorb and some might never fully integrate, as his freezer filled with stocked up meals would attest. But there were a few universal constants and while all of them grew up with their brother as their only relative, they all knew that family helped family. Even when that family was a pack of alternates who appeared later in life.

Which was how Edge found himself on his day off sitting on the floor of what was currently Papyrus and Blue’s house, making party favors for Undyne’s baby shower.

The living room was strewn with decorations waiting to be placed, streamers and banners in an eclectic rainbow of colors, uninflated balloons spilling out of a bag like the leftover skins of a particularly garish fruit. The party itself wasn’t until tomorrow, but that left little time to waste, considering the plans Papyrus had drawn up.

Plan was perhaps an overstatement, but Edge could never fault Papyrus for his enthusiasm. His color scheme, on the other hand—well. He’d never approved of the way some Humans were so obsessed with gender that they actually assigned colors at birth but there was a great distance between that and a design that might cause any guests with fleshier eyes to scramble for sunglasses.

Papyrus was bustling around setting things up while the rest of them were sitting on the floor in a circle around a coffee table that was cluttered with craft supplies. He’d paired each of them off to work on separate projects and for all that the occasion was a joyous one, the mood was decidedly not.

“how many of these things do we need, anyway?” Stretch grumbled. His and Jeff’s assigned duty was to pour a mixture of toffee-coated popcorn into small plastic bags, tie it closed with a ribbon, and then affix a sticker on the front that declared in cheery letters ‘Ready to Pop’!

Edge was morbidly curious as to how Undyne felt about that particular sentiment this close to the end of her pregnancy.

A glance at the finished bags confirmed that Stretch’s ribbons were less a bow and more a tangle of colorful knots, Jeff’s only a slight improvement. The bags were sealed at least, and Papyrus was more than content with the effort, which was all that really mattered.

Besides, Edge was busy with his own task; planting tiny succulents into miniature pots, each with a painstakingly attached tag reading, ‘Watch Me Grow!’. Privately, he thought the small cacti were a far better representation of Undyne than any snack, but then, he wasn’t the one actually throwing the shower.

“How many do we need,” Papyrus repeated thoughtfully. Edge pointedly did not ask about the garland in his hand which seemed to be made of dangling fish ornaments and…was that tomatoes? Edge decided it would be best not to know, lest he end up lying awake tonight with the answer still haunting him. “Well, there is Undyne’s co-workers in Security and Alphys’s at the lab, plus their neighbors and friends, and of course us!”

“i don’t need no damn cactus,” Red muttered sullenly. How Papyrus even got Red here was another burning question, though the answer was likely Sans sitting placidly right next to him. His collar was visible over the neckline of his t-shirt, the buckle glinting in the light. Occasionally he reached up absently to touch it as if to verify it hadn’t wandered off when he wasn’t looking. Their entire duty seemed to be putting cans of sparkling water into drink koozies emblazoned with such witticisms as ‘nacho average baby’ over a cartoon of a tortilla chip. It was anyone’s guess as to if that task was actually assigned to them or simple the one they’d decided on doing, but between them, there were four cans done after a half an hour of work.

Sans managed to slide another can into a koozie, bringing their grand total to five. “paps, that didn’t really answer the question.”

“That would be because I am not finished counting!” Papyrus scolded. “There’s also Undyne’s ‘Cooking with Krav Maga’ class and naturally all the Dreemurr family will be coming.”

“great, ass-gore will be here,” Stretch muttered, fumbling to tie another ribbon with varying success. “i’ll be sure to bring my headphones.”

Edge sighed inwardly. Stretch was in a prickly mood and had been all day, and it didn’t take a scientist-level IQ to know it had something to do with the baby shower. They’d known about this for days; when Papyrus asked if they would help, Edge hadn’t hesitated to agree. Now he was wondering if he shouldn’t have asked Stretch in advance. He hadn’t refused to come, but he’d been twitchy and snappish since getting up that morning, only getting worse when they came over. If the party were for anyone but Undyne, Edge would have suggested they go home.

Adding to the irritation was Red in a poor mood of his own and he hadn’t a single qualm about casting sparks around a gasoline spill. “good, no one wants to hear you flappin’ your yap, anyway. save your 280 characters for your twitter freaks.”

“aww, jealous?” Stretch cooed, “‘cause, you talk so much crap, i dunno whether to you need toilet paper or a breath mint.”

Edge exchanged a weary look with Blue, who returned it with equal exasperation. Those two had been sniping at each other all morning and it was Blue’s turn to attempt a least a little fire prevention.

“Really, Papy, that’s enough,” Blue said reprovingly. That might stop them briefly, but they all knew from past experience it wouldn’t last. Red and Stretch were alike in a number of dissatisfying ways, past the darkened circles of exhaustion that were currently visible beneath both their sockets. For one, most of them weren’t above returning a good insult with a better one, but Red and Stretch could be particularly vicious about it. Usually it was better to let them simply work it out between themselves; trying to intercede past a little mild scolding usually ended up getting you mixed up in the spat.

This time Edge was tempted, if only because Jeff looked supremely uncomfortable. He fumbled with his latest little bag of popcorn and ended up with a good portion bouncing into his lap rather than the treat bag.

For the time being, Sans seemed content to allow them to try to rein in their brothers, and that would likely last until their petty squabbling might upset Papyrus. Who thus far either hadn’t noticed or was content to allow the others to handle it. Edge hoped it was the latter. The crack in Papyrus’s skull was still starkly visible, although his balance seemed much improved, if the way he all but leapt from the ladder was any indication, digging furiously through an overflowing box of even more decorations.

“sure, bro,” Stretch said to his brother’s scold, and then promptly added a mumble of, “don’t see why he has to be here, anyway.”

“’cause it ain’t your party, it’s hers, and she’d want ‘im,” Red grumbled. Then, in a smirking sotto voce, “’sides, i figure he’s the baby daddy so be kinda rude not to at least give ‘im a party favor.”

“There is no baby daddy, since neither Undyne nor Alphys want to be called daddy, and it’s much ruder to speculate,” Papyrus called primly, confirming that he was indeed listening to the ongoing bickering. He stood with his hands on his hips, eyeing the growing balloon sculpture critically. Edge joined him in looking, biting the tip of his tongue to hold back any questions, especially on whether the design was supposed to be Undyne or an eggplant. Never ask when you didn’t want to know the answer and Papyrus wove in another long, purple balloon as he went on, “and also Asgore can’t be the donor because I am.”

A hush of silence fell, along with a number of wide sockets and eyes turning to Papyrus’s direction. No one’s were wider than Sans’s at what was obviously unexpected news to him as he blurted, "seriously, bro? you're the one who handed over the baby batter for undyne?”

Papyrus frowned at them all reprovingly. “That is rude AND crude, I'll thank you not to refer to it that way.”

"sorry, bro, but fuck,” Sans sputtered, “you didn’t say anything!”

"Is there a reason I would need to?” Papyrus asked, brow bones raised, “Undyne is my best friend and wanted a child, so of course I would help provide the necessary material in her time of need!"

“necessary material,” Stretch muttered, his face scrunching up, and in that Edge could only agree, “right.” He nudged Jeff with an elbow, who yelped aloud and jumped, sending up another miniature shower of popcorn, “uh, andy, i know we're best buds and all, but if you ever need--"

“Nope, I’m good,” Jeff said, a touch too loudly.

“happy to hear it.” Stretch gave him a grin that slowly faded. “see? so if asgore didn’t donate his, uh, time and effort, he can stay home."

“Honestly, Papy you can’t—" Blue began reprovingly, only to be drowned out by Red’s loud snort.

“what the fuck is your problem with asgore, anyway,” Red grumbled. He picked at his gold tooth, a tell that sent tension winding up Edge’s spine even as his brother added with lazy viciousness, “get over it already, you act like he’s your ex who fucked you over.”

The day seemed to be one for unexpected silences. Only this time the stares were directed at Stretch, who said nothing. He only sat white-faced, cellophane crinkling loudly as his hands fisted around the bag in his lap, his skull draining of color as he managed to look at anything but those stares.

Red let out a harsh chortle of laughter, “seriously? all this time you’ve been holier than thou about his lv and it’s actually ‘cause you used to give him the bone over in your ‘verse? fuck, now there is a mental picture,” Red moaned out gleefully, “oooh, fuzzy ass, stick it to me good! ram me with your furry wand of wonder and i’ll get your goat!”

A chorus of protests rose up, with Edge’s snarl of, “That’s enough!” rising to the top.

But Stretch was already standing, a litter of colorful ribbons shedding from his lap as he walked swiftly to the door.

“Rus—" Edge stood to chase after him, cursing his damned leg as it threatened to buckle under him. It was an exercise in futility from the start, as he’d known it would be. Stretch shortcutted the moment he was out the door, heading off Angel knew where to lose himself in the stew of his own thoughts. The temptation to look up where he’d reappeared on the phone app was strong, but Edge resisted it. Stretch had the right to be alone if that was what he wanted, particularly after that dig.

He sighed and went back into the house. Only to pause as he saw the various looks had transferred to him, all of them guarded, particularly Blue; his starry eye lights seemed to be anticipating anger at Stretch. As if this made any damned difference between them. Even Jeff looked near tears, like he expected Edge to already have Antwan on the phone demanding him to draw up divorce papers. It was damn well insulting, and he glared back at them all until those gazes dropped, Blue’s reluctantly last.

All except for his own brother. Red was grinning, savagely pleased, and if they wanted anger, the simmering urge to shout at his brother was rising to a roiling boil in him, his LV waking in his soul to twinge eagerly at the heat of it. Only that was likely exactly what his brother wanted, to be punished for his casual cruelties. Whatever was troubling Red, Edge wasn’t about to reward his masochism.

His own anger fell swiftly into disappointment; lately Red had been bordering on kind with Stretch, if it could be called that, treating him as a brother, or better, if Edge were honest with himself. A brother that needed his protection as Edge decidedly did not. It’d been some time since he’d deliberately needled Stretch and Edge couldn’t even understand why he’d chosen to do so today. Whatever his petty reasons, they weren’t sufficient enough to excuse that.

Edge kept his voice low and even as he said, “That was cruel.”

That satisfied smirk faltered and Red shifted to lean forward. “yeah? well, it's about time he starts getting’ over it. it ain’t the same guy and he’s married to you.”

“Affection for someone else is not any kind of betrayal and considering that all of you calculated our worlds have ceased to exist, there isn’t much opportunity for closure, is there,” Edge said, acid creeping in. "The state of my marriage is no concern of yours."

Red’s sockets fell half-closed as he said, dangerously soft, "you think so, boss?"

Then he flinched suddenly, yelping as Sans slapped him upside the head. "you’re so eager for stretch to get over shit, how about you practice what you preach.” He shoved a can of sparkling water into Red’s lap. “shut up and put on a fucking koozie.”

Red scowled hard and Edge did not miss his crimson gaze flicking to the collar around Sans's throat. Grudgingly, he did what he was told.

“Do not interfere with my marriage,” Edge said coolly. Not that such a statement would stop his brother, but at least it was said between them. Then to Papyrus. “I am sorry, but."

Papyrus only flapped his hands at him, shooing him away, “No, no, go, talk to Stretchy Me! I’m sure Cherry here would like to think about how much he hurt Stretch’s feelings and yours, his own brother, who has recently suffered an injury. And there are my own injuries to consider as well, sticks, stones, and words do hurt!"

Edge let him ramble and started for the door, then hesitated. The others were accustomed to a certain amount of internal friction, some of it formerly his and Stretch’s, from the moment they woke up in this universe. Their Human companion was not so inured to it and Edge crouched to set a ginger hand on Jeff’s shoulder, “Jeff, I’m sorry.”

“Nah,” Jeff waved it off, offering up a lopsided grin. “That was nothing. You should’ve seen Thanksgiving at my grandparent’s place. Don’t think my grandma ever got the gravy stains off the ceiling.”

“can’t just drop a hint like that and not give the story, andy,” Sans said, lightly. The others murmured agreement, eager to latch onto another topic.

Edge could hear as he went out the door, “Well, uh, see, my grandpa was originally from Norway, and—”

There were any number of places Stretch might go to nurse his internal wounds, but Edge had a fairly good guess as to the likeliest one. He drove home, parked his car in the driveway, but instead of heading up to the front porch, he went around the side of the house towards their fenced backyard. Before he was even close, he could hear Stretch talking and he went quietly through the gate to see him sitting outside the coop with Noodle settled into his lap, the laces of his untied sneakers trailing into the grass for Dumpling to peck at.

His skull was resting against one of the support posts, still too pale, his sockets closed and his vape drooping loosely from his long fingers. Vaping instead of smoking cropped up sometimes when Stretch was truly irritated, as if he subconsciously wanted control over something and settled for his nicotine addiction. Or perhaps it was to protect his feathered companions from secondhand smoke.

Noodle didn’t seem bothered either way, chirring softly as Stretch stroked his free hand down her back.

“—not like i don’t know i’m being a dick. that guy just pisses me off sometimes. asgore, not red. actually, they both piss me off, now that you mention it.”

Noodle made an inquisitive sound and Stretch sighed out a cloud of vapor. “yeah, yeah, i was in a mood before we even went over. i dunno, all that baby shit gets on my nerves for some reason.” He scratched lightly under Noodle’s chin and she cooed contentedly. “you’re right, it’s no excuse for being shitty. especially to papyrus, he’s all excited about throwing this party. even if the balloon thing was creepy, you should’ve seen it, like cthulhu’s second cousin after failed plastic surgery.”

“You weren’t being a dick.” Edge said, quietly. Stretch tensed and his sockets slid open, but he didn’t look up, his pale eye lights straying down on his poultry pal. Edge walked over and sat next to them, keeping a careful distance away, easily breached if Stretch wished, or a comforting barrier if he didn’t. “Perhaps a little rude.” Edge held up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “A little. My brother, on the other hand, was embracing his dickish nature.”

Stretch made a faint, amused sound, “red embracing his dick was not a chat i was expecting today.”

Then he leaned to the side, crossing the distance between them to rest his skull on Edge’s shoulder. He took the unsubtle hint and slid an arm around his husband’s slim shoulders, holding him in close, closing his sockets against the faint tremble in Stretch’s voice as softly spoke.

“he wasn’t my boyfriend. fuck, i never saw him get out of the ruins. i…might’ve given it a shot if he had,” his voice dropped to a bare whisper and Edge hummed encouragingly, already anticipating what was coming, “but i was fucking everyone back then. i was maybe a little infatuated, okay? that’s it.”

“All right,” Edge said, calmly, even as he tightened his arm around Stretch, holding him closer still. He was not jealous of Stretch’s yesterdays; his only commitments were his tomorrows, and despite what his brother might think, Edge was certainly not about to allow anything so trivial as a former crush on a dead man come between them.

Stretch heaved a watery little sigh. “but that isn’t it, not really. he was my friend and i promised him i’d take care of the kid. instead i—"

“Did what you had to do,” Edge interrupted firmly. He understood impossible situations better than most, his own LV-tainted soul aching to think of Stretch enduring what he had for so long, an impossible choice to make between his world and the intent of a murderous child.

Yet, even now, Stretch couldn’t be convinced that was true. He only sighed out a quiet, “sure.” Then, louder, “anyway. he was my friend. he would have hated to see what he was in this world. it’s just…it’s hard sometimes.”

“I know.” Hard to see alternates of people they’d known, a lifetime of memories to be set aside while learning a new person with an old face. Undyne was his own personal struggle and Edge could call her friend, but it wasn’t the same, it couldn’t be.

Next to him, Stretch snuggled in closer even as Noodle let out a querulous protest over the lack of petting. “i’ve been thinking. my hp is on the rise, right?”

“It’s 5 and a quarter, love,” Edge said dryly, reaching over to offer the chicken a gentle pat, Noodle’s dismay quickly turning to a rapturous croon, “and as happy as I am for it, I’d prefer if you didn’t decide to take up hang gliding or street fighting.”

"you're hilarious, babe." Another long, slow breath, before Stretch blurted, "i know i kinda railroaded you when we talked about this before. if you really want kids--" he faltered, his voice breaking as Edge listened in dismayed confusion, "i mean, if that's…we could…"

Suddenly Edge knew precisely what Rus was going to offer and he didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want him to think in even the tiniest way that he’d lost some measure of Edge’s love by preferring not to have children and and he didn’t know how to stop him from strangling out the words.

So Edge cupped his face in a hand and turned Stretch’s head towards him to kiss that stammering mouth lingeringly, until he stopped trying and simply melted into the gentle touch. By the time he drew away, Stretch was the one making thin, dismayed sounds, trying to chase after that kiss for more, his eye lights hazy soft. Instead, Edge pressed a light, teasing kiss to the slight nodule of his nasal cavity.

"No, I don’t think so,” Edge told him, slow and carefully. Watching that much-loved face to make sure Stretch was hearing him. “I’ve considered it and I’ve decided I’m entirely too busy to add parenthood to my schedule. I’m going back to the Y this week, I think I’m better off trying to secure a place in this world for the children already in it.”

Poorly hidden relief flickered over Stretch’s face and Edge leaned in to kiss him again, silently hoping that he was truly believed this time. There was no doubt in his mind that Stretch would force himself to endure the stresses of having a child if he thought Edge wished it, but making Stretch bear the weight of unwanted parenthood was a nightmare not to be considered. He’d love the child, surely, but at what cost? Far higher than Edge would ever consider paying.

A sudden cackle came from inside the coop and Stretch jerked away, sitting bolt upright.

“the egg!” Stretch gasped, scrambling to his feet, “i never did get a chance to research her adopted egg. you think maybe it actually—” hatched, he did not say, almost superstitiously hopeful.

“It’s possible,” Edge hedged, doubtfully. They both started into the coop, only for a voice calling over the fence to stop them.

“Hello? Hello, is anyone home?” The words were couched with near panic and the voice was a familiar one. Stretch beat him to the fence, opening the gate as he limped as quickly as he could over.

“Janice?” Edge said, surprised and concerned. The fur on her face was matted and wet with tears and she wrung her hands, shaking as she tried to speak. It brought back unpleasant memories of the attack at the Embassy, when one of the protesters threw a brick at her. Even then her pain and fear were tempered under practicality as she asked Antwan to bring her children to the hospital, her thoughts on keeping her boys from fearing Humans more than they already might. To see her bereft of her usual firm control was concerning.

“Calm down,” Edge soothed, pulling her into his arms without a thought, even as he cast a wary glance around the neighborhood. Nothing seemed out of order, not yet, “What’s happened?”

She leaned against him heavily and he nearly staggered back a step. Tall as he was, they were of nearly an equal weight. “It’s Jude, he didn’t come home for lunch and I can’t find him anywhere!” She hitched out a sob. “None of the other children have seen him, my family has been looking but we can’t find him, I can’t—”

Her voice dissolved and Edge gave her a last pat before firmly pushing her into his husband’s startled arms.

“Stretch, stay with her,” Edge commanded, reaching for his phone, “I’m going to make some calls.”

“yeah, sure,” Stretch agreed hastily. He rubbed a soothing hand down her back as Janice struggled against her tears. “hey, we’ll find him. little guy couldn’t have gotten too far.”

Edge was already pulling up his contact list and couldn’t help the darkly sour thought that if this didn’t pull his brother out of his bad mood, nothing would.

~~*~~

tbc

[comfy-whumpee]

My Name Is Jax

TW: mentioned drugging, head injury. Someone stop me making new OCs.

“Get your fucking hands off me.”

 The Teacher leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching as Arden and Kelly wrestled the new trainee into his restraints. He was a scrapper, by the looks of him, with his shaggy hair and the rings arrayed up his ears. His jacket was ragged, his boots oversized, and there were patches on his sleeves. He wasn’t going to go easy.

 “Fucksake, get off me,” the trainee protested, pulling on his shoulders and spitting ineffectual anger as Arden yanked the jacket off. Kelly put a hand on the back of his neck and forced his head down, as Arden tossed the jacket aside and grabbed his wrists, pushing them down into the manacles attached to the floor. The position kept the trainee bent over his knees, elbows to the ground, and the Teacher smiled as he inadvertently prostrated himself.

 “392,” he announced, stepping forwards so the trainee could look up only as far as his shoes.

 “My name is Jax, fuckhead.”

One hand moved from at the Teacher’s side to his belt, running a finger over a muzzle. Too soon, though. “No. Your name is your number. Your number is 392.”

 “No, my name is Jax, fuckhead.”

 The Teacher glanced at Arden, who flicked his wrist, his baton extending with a crack of metal.

 “Go ahead, fucking beat me,” the trainee said. He already had a bloody lip from resisting capture, and it reddened his grin. His head was lifted, but he was staring past the Teacher’s boots, at the door. “You won’t be the first.”

 The Teacher stayed Arden with a glance, and looked to Kelly. She leaned down and sliced through 392’s clothes. Within a minute, the trainee was naked, and clenching his jaw as if he were biting through steel. “Perv,” he said.

 “You are here to work, 392,” the Teacher said. He gestured to the side of his head, and Kelly crouched, reaching for the piercings.

 392 felt the touch, and jerked his head around, then curled hard and fast enough on the stones that his knee drove into Kelly’s back, and she fell forwards far enough that his head lashed forwards, teeth sinking into her arm. She grunted, slapped him with the heel of her hand to his temple, and he clenched harder.

 The Teacher gave Arden the nod, and the baton cracked loudly as it impacted the back of 392’s head. Dazed, his jaw slackened for long enough that Kelly pulled away, and then her baton was out too, and she looked to the Teacher.

 “Beat him,” he confirmed. It wasn’t necessary to speak out loud to communicate the order, but it was useful for 392 to understand who was in control.

 Kelly didn’t have to be told twice. She brought her baton down on his shoulders first, then worked her way down his back, favouring the waist as she usually did. Her aim was true enough to raise a crimson line across 392’s lower back within seconds, and she continued labouring that one stripe until blood beaded in the wound.

 To his credit, 392 took it with gritted teeth and barely a shaky breath to show his pain. He was going to be a quality product.

 When the Teacher raised his hand, Kelly stopped and stepped back. Arden remained still, poised as he always was for his own commands.

 “You are here to work,” the Teacher repeated, crouching down at a safe distance. “What you get here, you earn. Your sleep, food, water, warmth, hygiene – you will earn it, or you will not have it. Think carefully about what you want your time here to be like, 392.”

 392 raised his head just enough to glare at chest level. “My name is Jax.”

 The Teacher glanced at Arden, and this time, 392 groaned in pain as the baton smacked, more lightly, into his skull again.

 “You earn your beatings, too,” the Teacher said mildly. “The choice is yours.”

 392 made a sound like a stifled cough and flashed the corner of his red-stained teeth. “Easy,” he replied.

 -

 Sometimes there were multiple troublemakers in a batch, and that was when the Teacher introduced the muzzles, the shock batons, and if the situation was truly dire, the public punishments. This batch was, thankfully, mild across the board. There was only one exception: this little firebrand, whose favourite words were no and fuck.

 “I’m not fucking cleaning, what are you on?”

 The Teacher was all too familiar with that voice. He turned to see 392 with his fists clenched, already raised defensively as he faced down the duty guards. He was alone in his stand – the others had already drifted off to work, or at least to be out of the limelight. 390 was crying again, snuffling quietly in the corner, and 395 had a face on like they were going to try something later, a quiet attempt at sneaking something back to their cell, or pass a message to one of the others. The Teacher hadn’t yet worked out who the other half of the conversation was, but they were coordinating on small disruptions.

 Their distraction was usually 392.

 “We’re human beings, dickwad. We’re not slaves. You ever heard of human fucking rights? Get off me,” he raised his voice suddenly as a hand grabbed the back of his collar, and he twisted to throw a punch. “Get off me, bitchass motherfucker!”

 The Teacher sighed quietly as the guards descended, some batons jabbing, others swiping, and Arden, as always, glancing over to him.

 The Teacher swept his gaze over the other trainees. Some were watching, horror widening their eyes and paling their faces. Others were shakily ignoring it, looking down at their work. 395 and 389 were standing close again. Hm.

 The important thing was, nobody was inspired. Nobody was encouraged. 391 was actually glaring at 392. Of course, it was hard to sleep in a cell next to someone who shouted all hours of the day about being kept prisoner.

 “My name is Jax!” he yelled, distracting the Teacher from his contemplation. “My fucking name is fucking Jax, I’m not a fucking number and I’m not your slave!”

 Arden was still looking at him, big blue eyes asking for guidance. The Teacher lifted an open hand to his neck.

 “Hit me all you fucking want, I’m not—”

 The tirade cut off with a jerking rasp, like a dying engine clearing its last exhaust. Arden yanked the collar tighter, both strong hands around the little fasteners, and then secured it again. 392’s hands raised to try and pull away, but Arden spend almost all of his downtime working out, and the trainee was no match for him. The Teacher’s experienced eye identified his fighting style as erratic dashes of street fighting atop krav maga, and it was effective, but he was hardly a one-man army. With the collar tightened to choking point, he wasn’t even steady on his feet as the guards closed around him and began to shove.

 His voice gone and his dignity with it, there was nothing left for 392 but to lurch around on weakening legs as they pinballed him between them, letting out strangled noises that they mocked. He tried to throw a fist out, and was batted aside, and then knocked forwards, and spun with the force of one hand slammed into his shoulder. His face was slowly reddening, purpling, and then finally – once he had fallen to his knees and further, face in the tiles – falling slack and empty, as he folded to the ground.

 The other trainees kept their eyes away.

 “Peace and quiet,” the Teacher said with a smile, and the guards chuckled. They’d enjoyed their petty revenge on the irritation, and now, the day would go smoothly. “Put him away.”

 Arden dragged 392 back to his cell and loosened his collar just enough for him to breathe again, weakly. There would be no food for him, just another force-fed sedative. His dose would increase again, and eventually, he would crack. It was inevitable.

[bobbystompy]

68 Quotes I Enjoyed From 2019

Below are my favorite quotes from 2019. Though most occurred throughout the year, some took place before but were encountered during.

1) “I don’t bitch about Millenials.

John Entwistle once complained that he didn’t understand rap. Pete Townsend said, ‘It’s not our job to understand it. It’s our job to get the fuck out of the way.’

New generations come of age. The older generation’s job is to shut up and adapt.” - @danagould

2) “I can’t do drugs with you until we kiss.”

3) “If you pay me $50 I'll show up to your funeral but stand really far away, holding a black umbrella regardless of the weather, so that people think you died with a dark and interesting secret.” - @DanaSchwartzzz

4) “A human being is a dangerous thing to let loose in a room with itself, when it cannot think.” - Roger Ebert

5) “There are no bad bourbons, only better bourbons.” - Dave Hernandez

6) “You can’t put a dollar in a kimono.”

7) “This is how it was.” - rampant takeaway from watching ‘Superbad’ several years after its release

8) “What if I had been born fifty years before you in a house on the street where you lived / Maybe I’d be outside as you passed on your bike / Would I know? / And in a wide sea of eyes, I see one pair that I recognize” - Ben Folds, ‘The Luckiest’

9) “Learn the rules so you can break them.”

10) “Nobody makes chili for two.” - Stacy Massey

11) “‘Best city in the world,’ I mutter to myself, as i adjust my ‘driving blanket’.” - Chicago resident Deanna Belos, during the 2019 Polar Vortex

12) “Dude, no one’s ever got arrested for listening to Counting Crows.” - Ricky O’Donnell, justifying late night music volume at his party

13) Bill Belichick: We’re going to have fun tonight. Rob Gronkowski: Yes we are. We deserve it. Belichick: You’re damn right. Gronk: I haven’t stepped out in like eight months. I gotta step out tonight. Belichick: I’m with you, man. I’m even going to step out. Gronk: Oh, I like it!

A Super Bowl winning exchange.

14) Center David Andrews thanked Bill Belichick for giving him "a shot".

Belichick disagreed with it.

Andrews: Thank you for giving me a shot. Belichick: A shot? I didn't give you shit. You earned it! I don't give anything.

Another Super Bowl winning exchange.

15) “We elected one of the very worst living human beings to be President, and it's exhausting. Each and every day, it's an exhausting slog, just to exist in a world where that's true.” - Michael Schur

16) “Some of y’all always picked Odd Job when you played Goldeneye and it shows” - @thedad

17) “Any app is a dating app if you try hard enough.” - Z.W. Martin (though he says it’s lifted)

18) "Once you're as woke as I am, you learn to feel bad all the time.”

19) “Everything’s a balance beam when you’re 90.” - John Dingell

20) [I wake up in a world where The Beatles never existed]

Me: Check out this song I just wrote

[I begin playing “Ob La Di Ob La Da” without having first built up years of goodwill]

Crowd of people: Wow, this sucks ass

-- @seanoneal

21) “People change people.” - Corey Matthews, Girl Meets World

22) “The easiest thing to do on earth is not write.” - William Goldman

23) “Dan could be like a difficult uncle. I didn’t love his fire-breathing conservative politics. I didn’t love the transformation that came over his novels. In Semi-Tough, he created two benighted Texas jocks and laid their prejudices bare. He was declaring himself a member of the Mark Twain coaching tree. In later books, Dan seemed to be trying to prove he could still tell a racist joke. He insisted that his memoir—the last truly immaculate piece of writing he delivered—include a tirade against political correctness. When his editor said people might be offended, Dan said, ‘Fuck people.’

There are certain writers whose style you pilfer. Certain writers whose moral fiber you try to inherit. For me, Dan represented a third category: a writer whose aura you replicate—or, failing that, try to stand in for a while.” - Bryan Curtis, on Dan Jenkins

24) “Never marry anything. Never choose. Even in love, it's better to be chosen.” - La Dolce Vita

25) “An uncluttered, uncomplicated happy ending might sound wonderful, but it’s hardly ever satisfying. Because the value of great stories lies in the tension between desire and need, between the yearning for the ideal, and the unshakable conviction that ideals don’t really exist, at least not the way we want them to. A great story should hurt a little when it leaves us. There should be some hope, but that hope should remain somewhere just an inch beyond our fingers, because that’s the truth. Even if you had all the perfect moments in the world, you’d still be reaching.” - Zach Handlen, on the Futurama series finale

26) “You can’t see him because he has sunglasses on.” - Alissa Levy

27) “The cinema is the greatest art form ever conceived for generating emotions in its audience. That's what it does best. (If you argue instead for dance or music, drama or painting, I will reply that the cinema incorporates all of these arts).” - Roger Ebert

28) “‘Are you gonna let politics ruin a friendship?’ 

Yes tf I am

People talk about politics as if it’s this isolated, abstract concept that only matters at election time. Somebody’s politics is their world view. It’s whether they think certain human beings deserve rights. It’s how they think the world should be. And if somebody thinks that the world should be colder, meaner, less accepting and downright hostile to people that are different to them, then sure as fuck is the friendship over.”

29) “Can the Supreme Court get me mushrooms?” - J-Papp

30) “Any song under two minutes already has a head start on its way into my heart. Just scream at me and then leave me.” - Drew Magary

31) “Long neck cold beers never broke my heart.” - Clemson Tom

32) “I’d just like to point out that the last spoken words of Game of Thrones were: 

‘I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel.’”

- @Authoroux

33) “Just once before I die, I want to toss my keys to someone and tell them ‘Bring the car around’.” - Mike Skully

34) “For all the weight they're given, last words are usually as significant as first words.” - Grand Maester Pycelle, Game of Thrones

35) “The best remedy for unrequited love is a trip around the world.” - Cheers

36) [on switching from a hotel to a motel]

Manny: I don't like the sound of that. A lot of amenities disappear when an H turns into an M. Jay: Hey when I met you, you were eating cereal out of a bucket.

-- Modern Family

37) “You and Lindsey don’t want to be ‘estranged’. Estranged is the relationship we want to have with our mothers.” - MegFil

38) “Cigarettes are undefeated.”

39) “My toes are like my fingers on my feet. I can pick stuff up with them.” - Tracy Cunningham

40) “Republicans govern without shame, Democrats shame without governing.” - Bill Maher

41) Sam: I don’t understand the vagaries of the Internet Josiah: Post often, without thought, and you’ll either get cancelled or cancel someone else.

-- Blink-155

42) “Hang a lantern on your problems.”

43) “What a weird web we weave.” - The Situation, The Jersey Shore: Family Vacation

44) “Let the ocean worry about being blue.” - Alabama Shakes, ‘Hang Loose’

45) “Honesty without tact is cruelty.” - Shelley Rokos

46) “My whole life is the wrong porn link.”

47) “One parent can take care of 10 kids, but 10 kids cannot take care of one parent.” - Joe Gestetner, via “an old Yiddish saying”

48) “There are no heroes in the room.” - Classics of Love, ‘Gun Show’

49) “If I am a little dismissive, it's only because of my harrowing backstory.” - Mitchell, Modern Family (on why he doesn't like sports)

50) “Every time I’m wearing black, I meet a dog.” - Tracy Cunningham

51) “Shower sex? Why would I fuck in my crying chamber” - @chridollarsign

52) “My theory about quarterbacks, having written about some of them, is you either have to believe in god or think you are a god.” - Mina Kimes

53) “The contradictions of capitalism always manifest in our lyrics if you look deeply.” - Blake Schwarzenbach of Jawbreaker, Riot Fest 2019

54) “Got a ‘hang loose’ from the weakside bartender.”

55) “It’s Jennifer’s birthday always.” - Eric Hutchinson 

56) “I can’t think of a less relevant artist in 2019 than Kanye West. A Jesus freak in a MAGA hat. Yeah, congrats dude -- you’re every grandma who watches ‘Young Sheldon’ and mails checks to Joel Osteen now.” - Dan Ozzi

57) “The past and future are in the mind. I’m in the now.” - Tom Brady, via someone else

58) “Sometimes you walk around boring places and you feel like the most exciting thing in it.” - Drew Magary

59) “Sitting is the new smoking.” - Modern Family

60) “I'll straight up fight folks at a book club and discuss books at a fight club I really don't give a shit anymore.” - George Wallace

61) “Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.” - Rose Garvey via wine country

62) “It’s all ‘ok boomer’ until you need someone who can drive stick shift.” - @OrdinaryAlso

63) “He likes the result of the math.” - Dad, talking about my worst subject frustrating during the process but satisfying in the end

64) Stepmom: Do you want a Bears urn or Alabama urn? Dad: Ask me after they play Auburn.

65) “A cold body carries a warm heart.” - Stefanos Tsitsipas’ Instagram, after his Iceland sabbatical

66) [preparing a dish called the Sandwich of Justice with his friend’s recipe]

"The fun thing about it is when you give it to someone, you can say 'Justice is served.’ That's, uh, Ryan's line. I built my whole life on the backs of my friends." - You Suck At Cooking

67) “Usually three people can keep a secret only when two of them are dead.” - The Irishman

68) “An artist can't control who consumes their content any more than a chemist can control how their chemicals are used once they're created.” - Brian Crooks

[bloojayoolie]

America, Be Like, and Children: I finished watching the Keepers and I need to make an observation and it's a good example of a point I want to make. In that documentary, it is perfectly clear that in Baltimore, the police were raping Catholic high school girls provided to them by priests. It's not speculation, it's just a fact. Priests murdered a nun who was trying to stop them. The police concocted a story of the nun being the victim of a stranger despite all evidence pointing to the fact it was someone she knew. The priests of course had the girls the cops raped and the cops were not going to charge any priests for murder which they obviously committed for fear of them reporting the rapes. They're Catholics and of course they are extremely "pro life" except when it comes to one of their nuns reporting crimes against children then and well, they're not so pro life. This would normally be so outrageous as to get people in the streets and demanding some form of justice. Why aren't we? We are currently in a war with Saudi Arabia against the Yemenis and Iran. There's a holocaust going on there and we are responsible for it. 10 million people are starving in that country right now and they are having the worst cholera outbreak in modern history. The Saudis will not allow any humanitarian workers into the country. They are mowing down children in buses with weapons we have supplied them with. Why is this happening? When Kennedy was president, he put together a team to formulate his Vietnam policy. He pulled together a blue ribbon commission of Ivy League graduates. They came up with the 'domino theory' of communism being spread throughout south east Asia. The problem was that all of these geniuses had never read a book about the Vietnamese and China. So the theory seemed sound that the Chinese were going to spread communism in the same way Stalin had. The problem with this idiotic theory was that the Vietnamese hate the Chinese. "Policy wonks" in Washington assumed that the Viets and Chinese were in cahoots. It would be like the Sunni and Shia joining forces to defeat America and if you know anything, you know that is never going to happen. That one assumption made by a group of people suffering from a terrible case of groupthink caused the death of millions of south east Asians and 58,000 Americans with another 200k+ maimed. Why? Because of our own stupidity. Few Americans even know that we as a nation deposed a democratically elected president in Iran and replaced him with a tyrannical Shah. Why did we do this? Because the Iranians elected Mohammad Mossadegh who was rightly sick of British Petroleum profiting from Iranian oil and doing nothing to help the Iranian people. He nationalized the Petroleum industry which BP was none to happy about. When they failed to convince the British government to intervene militarily, they went to Washington when the Red Scare was at full froth. Ike, to his everlasting shame said yes. How would you feel if you were an Iranian and another country came in to your country and deposed a democratically elected president and installed an absolute tyrant? You might be a bit upset don't you think? The point is that until then, Iranians were our friends. They are moderate muslims. Making Iranians out to be the terrorists problem that they are not serves two countries' interest in particular: Russia and Saudi Arabia. The Saudis hate Iran because of religion and Russians hate Iran because with Iran being a functioning member of OPEC, that means that Russia cannot produce oil to compete on the world market. This is why Putin is so very desperate to see Trump succeed in lifting sanctions because Russia has what is a conservative estimate of a $1 trillion oil field. They cannot access that oil without technology that Exxon has. If they did have access to that technology then Russia could produce as much oil as any OPEC nation and since Putin himself will be the beneficiary of those sales, he can sell that oil for prices lower than any OPEC nation. Since congress will not go along with Putin's plan because of his annexation of Crimea, he must increase his revenues by making sure Iran isn't flooding the market with their oil which did happen and prices dropped so low that it cost Putin money to sell Russian oil. That's why Trump was so willing to tear up the Iran deal because that served both Russian and Saudi interests who Trump and Jared are both in business with. The reason why Mike Pompeo and John Bolton are imbeciles to a staggering degree is because neither have ever read a book about the history of the Middle East. Bolton doesn't want to because scary Muslims are useful for him as boogey men. Pompeo is merely a political whore with limitless political ambitions. Hating on Iranians is politically expedient for his base of utterly useless dunderheads who bark and clap like trained seals at Trump's MAGA rallies. Iranians reacted to our action during their revolution. We did that without thinking about the consequences. Iranians aren't the ones flying planes into our buildings, that's Saudis and their extreme religious beliefs rooted in Wahabiism. What Trump has done to the entire nation is to break the ability to feel outrage because every single day there is a new low. He's blaming victims of the California fires for his own incompetence. Up is down, left is right and now here we are just days after him refusing to attend the centennial of Armistice Day and he's talking about voter fraud in a state which has a Republican governor who appointed the entire election committees administering the election which is being run by a Republican secretary of state are all conspiring to hand the election to Democrats. The truth has no meaning, facts are irrelevant and here we are as a people, actively participating in a holocaust happening in Yemen right now because we can no longer feel anything because we are overwhelmed with more outrages than any human being can handle. When the results of this holocaust start trickling into the collective American conscience, what are we going to tell the world or our children? That we were too busy making America great again? Or that we were too exhausted with our own suffering to lift a finger to help stop a holocaust? We can afford over 5000 American troops sitting on the border as a political stunt who will miss Thanksgiving with their families because of Donald Fucking Trump!

[alien-bodies]

Oversharing Time!!!

(i just made that title up that’s not the official title I’m just Like That)

Ok so @frogyell​ tagged my main account (I am BLEST) but that’s for Refined Star Trek Content and this one’s for excellent moodboard content and garbage so here’s the garbage!!! I’m putting it under a cut bc it manipulates your brain to want to read through 85 fuckin facts about me more wow I love science

rules: answer these 85 statements about yourself, then tag 20 people.

1. last drink: Water! off to a great start

2. last phone call: my local Hot Topic. I feel like I should also mention I work there. But if you don’t know that and steal my phone you’ll see I have a contact named Hot Topic

3. last text message: Google sent me a verification code, but the last one I sent was to my brother it says “k”

4. last song you listened to: It’s called The Horror Of Your Love by Ludo, if I had to delete all but one song on my 121-song Best Enemies playlist I’d keep this one it’s Peak and kinda has vore but it’s metaphorical. metavoreical, if you will

5. time you cried: during my latest EMDR sesh! I was in Wales and everything it was a Lot I got ice cream after

6. dated someone twice? Big No

7. kissed someone and regretted it? Not really?

8. been cheated on? my ex had 16 anime dating sims downloaded at one point while we were dating does that count

9. lost someone special? yea

10. been depressed? hella

11. gotten drunk and thrown up? I’ve been drunk 1 time and it was when I was playing English handbells at my dad’s church’s wassail night but I did not throw up no

fave colors

12. Black

13. Lavendar

14. Light blue

in the last year have you…

15. made new friends? Hell Yell!!

16. fallen out of love? k i n d a ? ?

17. laughed until you cried? oh absolutely

18. found out someone was talking about you? OH BOY YUP YUP

19. met someone who changed you? yes! she managed to physically alter my hippocampus without touching it how fuckign whack is that

20. found out who your friends are? It’s always the same miraculous group chat

21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list? sure have

general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl? I keep it nice and refined so all of them. My old account is another story

23. do you have any pets? one beautiful and talented cat named Moriarty. A good description is she’s got puppy software on cat hardware.

24. do you want to change your name? listen I’ve been through 4.5 of these fuckers, I like Nate, I’m Quite Finished

25. what did you do for your last birthday? invited 2 pals over, I remember one of them suddenly whipped out I Am The Doctor and the Dr Who theme on the piano out of fuckin nowhere and I was like “Daniel what the hell you’re so talented” and then I hardcore dissociated the rest of the day

26. what time did you wake up today? 10:00

27. what were you doing at midnight last night? chatting w @houseofoakdown​ and also editing my monstrosity of a fanfiction

28. what is something you cant wait for? Going back to school! then I can graduate in my pajamas and eat creamed corn in celebration

30. what are you listening to right now? the same goddamn playlist, this one’s called Battle Cry by The Family Crest, i cri erytiem

31. have you ever talked to a person named tom? probably???

32. something thats getting on your nerves? my brother vaping in the bathroom with the fan on at 12:30am

33. most visited website: tungle dot hell

34. hair color: I started out blonde af now I’m less blonde but still blonde.

35. long or short hair: short

36. do you have a crush on someone: :[] yes

37. what do you like about yourself: i’m hella smart, my moodboards are bangin, my writing is cool af, I’m well-hydrated at all times

38. want any piercings? Big No

39. blood type: A+!!!!! thats me!!!!!

40. nicknames: my brother calls me a goon sometimes

41. relationship status: im married to my laptop

42. zodiac: I was born on the last day of Taurus so I’m a definite Taurus/Gemini power combo

43. pronouns: they/them, tho in some places I use he/him bc The Dysphoria got hog wild enough I decided to pretend to be a trans guy so ppl would take me seriously, but I’m moving more towards they/them everywhere now. 

44. fave tv shows: Dr Fuck, Sherlock (I’m armed with a pitchfork and an arsenal of beefed up tv & film knowledge come on fight me), DOWNTON ABBEY

45. tattoos: in August I will get a bee on my right arm and probably a Secret Word in Gallifreyan on my left it’ll say fuck

46. right or left handed: one time I was bored in grade 10 and tried to make myself ambidextrous but that was a hassle so I’m firmly right handed. Except in archery.

47. ever had surgery: got all 4 wisom teeth out not long ago! I still need to squirt water in my gum holes so I get all the mushy food out :{

48. piercings: I used to have my ears pierced but they’re grown tf over now!

49. sport: first of all what the hell is this question looking for second of all I have a red belt (which is 2 below black belt) in Taekwondo. I really need to do that again hhhhhh

50. vacation: i went to England and France in the summer with my family as a “””grad trip”””, it was lots of fun but my collection of sensory issues extended to chomping and I dissociated so intensely in The Louvre my mom told me to go back outside so I wrote fanfiction while listening to 21 Pilots and chatting w my imaginary friends and it took me like 18 hours to process I’d seen The Mona Lisa with mine own 2 eyes. Also the plane was delayed twice bc we used Air Canada for some godforsaken reason and I had 0 hours of sleep when I went to the Sherlock Holmes museum and I started talkin to this bust of Sherlock Holmes and then I hadn’t eaten enough and we were walking to this bookstore and I said “I need food!” and my dad said “We’ll get it AFTER” then I shouted “I’M GONNA DIE” so I got a BLT from Tesco. 

51. trainers: h

more general

52. eating: the last thing I ate was chocolate chips straight out of the bag

53. drinking: I got another cup of water

54. im about to watch: my entire fanfiction to take 3000 notes on consistency. and by watch I mean read

55. waiting for: my brother (not vaping) to get out of the bathroom so I can PEE

56. want: Orphan Black to be on Netflix so I can actually binge watch it then call my grandma about it

57. get married: idk I didn’t think I was a get married person but since realizing I’m a lesbian it seems like a good idea!

58. career: nurse and a writer. I might just move to London and work double time to write enough scripts I have some street cred then pitch a TV adaptation of Faction Paradox to the BBC and win

which is better

59. hugs or kisses: hugs bc it means my friends are in my vicinity not Toronto

60. lips or eyes: uh. eyes???????????

61. shorter or taller: i’m 5′3″ and I would love a tol partner

62. older or younger: i don’t think I care

63. nice arms or stomach: what fresh hell does this mean. I’d like a nice stomach free of gastrointestinal issues and acid reflux. not that I have either of those but just in case

64. hookup or relationship: I have 300 many self-esteem issues so imma say relationship

65. troublemaker or hesitant: AU where I don’t have anxiety and I’m a trouble maker

have you ever

66. kissed a stranger: noop

67. drank hard liquor: I PUT RUM IN THE WASSAIL HELL YEAH also once someone bought me a shot at a queer dance thing bc it was payday and my friend told me to gulp the WHOLE SHOT and then the lemonade so I don’t barf and I was like “brah this is too high-stakes” so I poured the vodka in the lemonade and took sips and everyone stared at me

68. lost glasses: in grade 6 and then my mom threatened to make me wear one of those granny glasses chains so I never lost them again

69. turned someone down: ya this kid Cyrus used to chase me around in grade 5 and I’d run away always he was weird af one time he made out with a folder right in front of me in the middle of class

70. sex on first date: probs not at this point but I’m not opposed to the general idea when I’m less w h a c k e d  u p

71. broken someones heart: Not that I know of?

72. had your heart broken: c o n s i s t e n t l y in the most fricked up ways god

73. been arrested: no but once I booed at the police bc the local nazis (yeah) were gonna have a rally so we had a counter-rally and I dropped in but there were no nazis except one old dude in a MAGA hat showed up 2 hours late lmao

74. cried when someone died: oui

75. fallen for a friend: Big Lesbian Mood

do you believe in

76. yourself: YA BB

77. miracles: not as such

78. love at first sight: nah

79. santa claus: I wasn’t allowed to believe in Santa as a child bc he was “too much like God” sad

80. kiss on a first date: ye!

81. angels: big no

other

82. best friend’s name: I don’t exactly have a proper best friend but I’m goin with Liam

83. eye colour: blue/grey

84. fave movie: either The Force Awakens (bc I love bb8 and I’m gay 4 Rey) or Interstellar shut up

85. fave actor: uh idk let’s go with my brother

WOW THAT WAS LONG JEE🅱️US. I’m tagging @houseofoakdown @spoonietimelordy @gemvictorfromtheponyverse @spockswhales @raesand and that exhausts the ppl I know but you’re all worth quadruple in my heart 💖

[onestowatch]

Support the Magic of PRIDE Year-Round with CLAY’s “project 5 (demo)” [Q&A]

Photo Credit: Angelina Papageorge

As the summer comes to a close and with it the commercialized “Pride Season,” CLAY, along with partner and fellow creative Maisie Richardson-Sellers, seek to establish an enduring reminder of love and celebration for the community by the community in “project 5 (demo).”    

An ode to love in its truest form, the single’s visual companion (released Aug. 28) and directed by Maisie herself, is shot from a home video perspective with the primary medium being cell phone cameras. Self shot footage of members of the LGBTQI+ community feature the colorful members in all their glory, along with a personal and artistic portrayal of Maisie and CLAY’s love. 

The video begins by playing with shadows, first CLAY moves alone to be joined by Maisie’s shadow in a fluid dance sequence. A serene chord progression on an organ accompanied by images of water flood the screen. A West Coast sunset into an intimate moment in the shower, leads to CLAY’s lament “I don’t want to die for loving you.” The powerful statement in its own right, only strengthened by the love the viewer sees in Maisie and CLAY, triggers a pickup in the beat and bass. As the groove manifests, so do the real stars of this story. With every musical measure we a see another LGBTQI+ person, representing every spectrum of the rainbow with individualism and pride. 

We had a chance to catch up with CLAY on everything from growing up in the “one of the gayest cities in the world,” resisting MAGA culture, and the wealth of inspiration behind “project 5 (demo)”.     

OTW: How old were you when you wrote your first song? Do you remember the title or what it was about? 

CLAY: “I’m flying” when I was seven years old. I believe the lyrics were “I’m flying, over the hills and mountains, I’m soaring over the deep blue sea. I’m flying, I’m soaring, don’t you know how good this feels to me? My heart is, my soul is free.” Not much has changed! Ha! Seven year old clay was hella on brand!

OTW: Your sound is deeply rooted in jazz, who was the first person to introduce you to the genre?   

CLAY: I mostly grew up in a very soul, R&B, Motown, funk and disco heavy household. I would say my music is more influenced by those genres than jazz. However, I fell in love with Ella Fitzgerald age 13, mostly replaying her songs over and over and trying to attempt copying her scatting. My (very limited) jazz self-education started there.

OTW: How did growing up in San Francisco help shape your dedication to social justice?  

CLAY: I owe a lot to the city that raised me. So many social justice movements were born and cultivated in the bay area. It’s an inherent part of the culture, so it heavily seeped into my upbringing as well as my formal education. Many of my childhood friends have built their lives and careers around serving the community, either working in or adjacent to social justice spaces. For me, it doesn’t make sense to do anything in my life that doesn’t have the goal of ultimately serving others, uplifting, empowering and building community for marginalized people. Period. I attest that to my being raised in such a (more so back then) culturally rich and diverse city (and family). 

OTW: What prompted the shift from social justice to pursuing music as a career? How do you blend the two? 

CLAY: I’m not sure there was a shift, it was more so that music was the route I had to take to achieve a larger goal. The thing that wakes me up in the morning, the need, the “so what?” is that fact that so many people on this planet feel alone, like no one understands, loves, or cares about them. Music chose me. I’ve been singing since before I could talk, and somehow I have this voice! I try to be as honest as I can, to practice radical vulnerability in hopes that I can free someone, somewhere of the shame, the weight the confusion or the isolation they feel. 

OTW: In today’s political climate, what do you think is the most important thing we can do as a society to resist MAGA culture?    

CLAY: Use your voice and use your vote. While I think it’s essential to use your platform to share and spread awareness via social media, I think that we need to learn as a generation how to put our money where our mouths are, to really learn how to show up. I have been really disappointed in myself lately and my lack of connection with people on the ground doing the work day to day. An idea of how to change this disconnect, and how to activate and build community was birthed from that shame, which I am working on and will hopefully be able to share soon…

Photo Credit: Angelina Papageorge

OTW: Can you expand on the inspiration on “project 5 (demo)”? 

CLAY: Yes! This song just flowed out of me in the session with the producer, Dylan Brady. We were honestly just messing around and I was singing into a performance mic (vs a typical recording mic) and I loved what came out so much I decided not to change a thing. Not even mix it! I was inspired by my love, and by my community. The pride and the shame. The moments where we get to say “fuck you, I’m still here, still queer” and the moments when we lose precious souls to the violence that our community so often faces.   

OTW: Your partner, Maisie Richardson-Sellers edited and directed the video for “project 5 (demo).” Can you tell us about your story together?

CLAY: Yes she did! She’s the best! I am honestly inspired by her every single day and feel so grateful to have her in my life. Hmm, well the short version is that we met at a party that neither of us particularly wanted to be at. It’s always the case, I suppose, to encounter something/someone amazing when you’re least expecting it…  

OTW: What inspired using real LGBTQI+ individuals in the message? Do you know each person personally featured?   

CLAY: Everyone in the video is either a friend of a friend of a friend. It felt special to start out by reaching out to our own community first and letting it grow organically from there. 

OTW: Can you tell us about your coming out story? How did you find the security to live your life and express your love freely?  

CLAY: I don’t really have a conventional coming out story. I’m immensely privileged to be in a family that has supported me throughout my entire life, and my loving women was no different. However, I will say that despite my supportive family and growing up in arguably one of the gayest cities in the world, I still felt soooo much shame around being queer, (and still often do). We live in an incredibly heteronormative society and constantly swimming upstream can get exhausting and feel isolating. Community is essential to survival, for those of us that can find it! I seek to create spaces by creating art for people to feel like they too have community, that they are not alone. 

OTW: Who are your Ones to Watch?  

CLAY: Easy! Manu Manzo- a Latin Grammy nominated, Miami-based, Venezuelan artist fusing all of her influences together to make her own lil sub-genre, en español & Ora the Molecule- an exceptionally talented, eccentric, fearless trailblazer.  

[likorys-shimenawa]

Again, it’s kind disingenuous to pretend that ‘celebrity said XYZ’ is the only problem or that silencing them would help at all and you’re amazing for pointing out all the obvious ways actual activism works.

Cause you know what’s the actual problem? Followers. Not a jerk saying TERF shit on cable, but 3 million people who nod along and tell anyone without an opinion he’s totally right and they need to agree - and many people will, because it’s their friend or family whom they trust, or they want to belong to a group, or they never heard another opinion and don’t bother challenging it.

And like MLM piramid or like disease infection spread, if this this celebrity has 3 million fans and each of them has 3 family members who in turn each have 20 friends, the views trickle - IF they aren’t challenged.

So no, you can’t just go and ‘cancel celebrity’ and think job is done. People who followed them are still around and they’ll only think they were censored and dig deeper into their beliefs. THAT’S WHY cancel culture is shit - because beside disproportionately hitting random people who made innocent mistakes while powerful ones doing actual harm stay fine... it does fuck all. You thing all the MAGAs suddenly realized they’re sexists racist bastard just because Trump got deleted off social media? Yes, deleting source does something, but if you think that’s all you need to do then you’re left with a container thrown in the trash while the actual poison is spilled all over.

We need education in school, so kids don’t grow up in echo chambers. We need support for teens and young adults who escape toxic families. We need better representation in media so people can’t be easily manipulated. We need to work on secular separatist cults (like Mormons) who all but indoctrinate their children with their own content from toys to children’s cartoons.

THEN a lone jerk on cable can scream till he’s blue in the face and not all people won’t be manipulated.

For example. I know I will never convince any rabid antis to logical arguments. Or antivaxxers. Or a TERF. I still respond, exhausted, repeating the exact argument over and over and over again, on the off chance that someone without an opinion will see the post and now have TWO views to compare, not one screaming at them.

How are we supposed to react to celebrities not taking their influence seriously and punching down then? Just nothing? If we can't get them off the public stage then what can we do? To many people look up to these people and share their shitty views. I don't buy that nothing can be done or shouldn't be done. We haven't made progress all this time by doing nothing when there's a problem. I want to see values shift culturally to valuing people over art when that art or artist is harmful.

Acknowledging that the extreme of cancel culture isn’t the way to go isn’t the same thing as doing nothing. There’s a wealth of options that exist between “Let’s publicly send this person death threats” and “Let’s be totally apathetic about this problem.” The truth is that real activism—real change—is long, grueling, frustrating work that is made up of thousands of choices made by millions of people. For however wonderful the genre is, Young Adult novels lie: problems like these aren’t solved by a single figurehead fixing the world in one moment of glorious revolt. Even the historical narratives we uphold are huge simplifications. Keeping one’s seat on a bus, throwing a brick at Stonewall… these are unquestionably important moments, but looking at them alone ignores all the silent, unnoticed, or now forgotten work that led to that point, all the work that was happening simultaneously, and all the work that came afterwards. Change like this isn't a sprint, it's a long-ass marathon.

That energy you have—“I don’t want to be complacent anymore”—is precisely what we want everyone to be feeling, but the hard pill to swallow is that the world will not suddenly be fixed now that you—or I, or any one individual—realizes how broken it is. Rather, it takes all of us acting on that feeling for years for change to occur and the reality is that we often will not get to see a direct result from any specific action. Why do people become transphobic? As said, they’re not born that way, they learn those views from living in a society with problems that go far, far deeper than the transphobia itself. It’s all interconnected and thus our work needs to be broad reaching too. So to ask just a few, basic questions:

Are you registered to vote where you live and are you exercising that right in every election, to help ensure that there are people in power to change things at a legislative level?

Are you calling your senator and other representatives to speak out about the issues you’re invested in?

Are you buying from marginalized-owned businesses whenever you can?

Are you participating in your community, such as a local library, to help keep them up and funded so that others have access to the information that will help educate them on these topics?

Similarly, have you made any donations to organizations working to help get reliable internet to everyone who currently doesn’t have it, increasing access to resources in our digital world?

Have you spoken with the schools in your area, letting them know that you want kids to have access to good health education—including curriculums that teach about queer identities?

Have you given any volunteer hours to organizations with more influence and resources than you?

Do you participate in boycotts of the content you no longer want to see renewed?

Do you participate in letter campaigns to let production and streaming services know that there is no longer anything to gain in supporting bigoted content?

Are you upholding the content you do want to see, buying those authors’ works so they can continue to make more and spreading word of their art?

Are you attending any parades or protests?

Are you assisting those who do attend? (Making sure they have food there, transportation, money for bail, etc.)

Have you put any time and energy towards running an awareness campaign on social media?

Have you helped to raise money for other organizations, or specific parts of your community?

Do you conduct any community service?

Are you speaking up (when it’s safe) among family, friends, and colleagues to combat bigotry at home?

Are you continually educating yourself on these and intersectional topics? Are you listening to what black trans people need? Disabled trans people? etc.

All of this, honestly, is just the tip of the iceberg. There are thousands of ways to make a difference, coming in all shapes and sizes, and I’m far from an expert on all the options out there. Some of these you may not be able to do now, or even ever (“I don’t have money/can’t get to a protest/am too young to vote/etc.") whereas it sounds like you’re already doing many others (“I’m educating myself/speaking out on this topic/promoting my friend’s trans-friendly work”). But all of it, no matter what you do, is going to have an impact. That matters. Yes, there are occasionally times when a direct approach works, where people are so furious over a creator’s views that the resulting backlash succeeds in getting them to step down from their platform. Much more often though, creating a world where the majority of people are disgusted by transphobic content—or better yet, a world where no transphobes exist, period—comes about through those thousands of acts across a whole range of problems we're fighting. “That comedian is transphobic and too many people are okay with that” is a result that stems from education, politics, poverty, and a number of other societal aspects we’re working to improve. You and I, as average individuals, may not be able to make already powerful celebrities back down… but we can do a hundred other things that, combined with others doing the same, will slowly dismantle the systems that created those celebrities in the first place. (And, of course, eventually impact them as well—one hopes.) It isn’t easy, it’s not a uniformly linear process, and there’s a chance we won’t see as much improvement as we’d prefer in our lifetimes, but there absolutely is improvement. That requires a lot of work in the background though; very rarely a single, blazing takedown.

[futurebestgameever]

Biden isn't a lesser evil and that's the problem here. Voting for blue maga isn't going to fix anything. The Democrats aren't going to make things better if they win, they'll only make things appear worst. Please deal with these feelings your having cause damn. As an at risk person it's getting real exhausting constantly listening to people I follow say me not wanting to vote for biden is fucking it up for everyone. Not voting for biden is absolutely a political stance. It say the Democratic system is to far gone to ever be used to fix things and it's time we take matter to the street.

Like I'm sorry I get where your coming from and you're allowed your own feelings, but so many people are talking about this with 0 care for the people who have been shat on by the Democrats and Republicans for long now and the longer we wait for a revolution to start and actually make change, the worst its going to get for everyone who doesn't have a say in the matter.

So please talk about voting, but also be kind to others please? More nuance maybe?

I 100% get wanting a particular candidate and supporting that candidate until the last possible moment, advocating for someone who will be the best outcome we could get…but like I also get tired reminding ppl that there’s gonna be someone in a political position no matter what 

Like the whole “you want me to vote for the lesser of two evils when they’re both garbage???” trend in social media is so fucking tiring because like, yes, obviously vote for the lesser of two evils, because if you don’t then the greater of the evils gets the position. There isn’t a third option in this situation. It’s either “shitty person that may allow other people to advocate for you” or “shitty person who would throw you and everyone you love under the bus totally unchecked,” and like yeah, I get it that that sucks and you’re not at all excited about it, but that’s the reality of the situation

Not voting for the “lesser of two evils” is not a neutral stance. Vote for the person who would give you the greatest chance at being seen and being heard, even if that means just voting for whoever won’t nominate a trashpile to a Supreme Court position and push for camps at the border 

Like DEFINITELY push for the best candidate in the primaries. But like, don’t fuck off and fuck it up for everyone during the fed election bc you get caught up in the social media “if something’s bad, then it’s all the same level of bad and you can’t choose between any of them or you’re bad too” rhetoric. It is obviously, obviously not the fuckin same