#body cam (2020)

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

I don’t think we, as a fandom, appreciate Yoongi’s hip action in the Boy With Luv choreo enough

[sarkos]

After an initial discussion and request for Massey’s drivers license, Grayson spotted a pot of boiling water on the stove and ordered Massey to remove it to avoid starting a fire. In doing so, Massey asks the officers – who visibly distance themselves from her as she goes to handle the pot – why they moved away from her. “Where you going?” she asks them. “Away from your hot steaming water,” Grayson answers, with a laugh, before Massey responds: “Away from the hot steaming water? Oh, I’ll rebuke you in the name of Jesus.” With his gun drawn, Grayson closed the distance between himself and Massey, who was beginning to kneel behind a counter with her hands up. Massey can be heard saying, “I’m sorry,” as Grayson continues to advance. “I’m sorry,” she says again as Grayson fires three shots, striking her with a bullet below the eye that exited from the back of her neck. As Massey lay dying on her kitchen floor, Grayson says he’ll go get his medical kit to render aid. “That’s a headshot. She’s done,” Grayson says before going to get the med kit. As the pair stand there with their guns still drawn, Grayson says: “I’m not taking a bullet out of her fucking head,” then points out that the water from the pot had reached his feet. “What else can we do?” Grayson asks his partner. “I’m not taking hot boiling water to the fucking face.” Grayson’s partner tends to Massey and at one point says, “she’s still gasping” and wonders what’s taking Grayson so long with the medical kit. When paramedics and other officers arrive, one can be heard asking, “where’s the gun?” Grayson replies that Massey had a pot of boiling water and threatened to rebuke him in the name of Jesus. Paramedics took her to a nearby hospital, where she was pronounced dead. Grayson has been arrested and charged with three counts of first-degree murder and is being held without bond until his trial is set to begin. It is exceedingly rare for police officers to be charged with murder in the death of a citizen, and hasn’t occurred in such a high-profile case since the killing of George Floyd in 2020.

Body-cam video shows Illinois police officer fatally shooting Black woman in face | Illinois | The Guardian

[roseshavethoughts]

Body Cam (2020)

31 Days of Summer My ★★ Review of Body Cam (2020) #FilmReview

Body Cam (2020) Synopsis – When a routine traffic stop results in the unexplained, grisly death of her colleague, a cop realises footage of the incident will play for her eyes only. As the attacks mount, she races to understand the supernatural force behind them – Body Cam. Director – Malik Vitthal Starring – Mary J. Blige, Nat Wolff, David Zayas Genre – Horror | Crime | Mystery Released –…

[strawberrychampagneglass]

Roses pt 2 - A Fragment of our Pasts

masterlist

part 1 WC: 6k

C/W: angst, pining, some fluff ig, swearing, alcohol, a man, mentions of violence, mentions of substance some sexual references but not smut, read at your own discretion but it's really not too too much I promise

A/N: SO SORRY FOR THE LATE AND VERY LONG AWAITED UPDATE I PROMISE FUTURE ONES WILL NOT BE THIS MUCH WAITING, GOOD NIGHT AND TAKE CARE YALL CUS I NEED TO SLEEP LOL I love u guys sm

October 20th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

I’m not a cheater.

The word that Paige almost spit out haunts her. The looks that her teammates gave her haunt her. 

Buried in her hotel bed with a wet towel hanging around her forehead, Azzi shivers despite the fire that has set her body ablaze. It’s nearly noon, yet she still feels sleepy; her body is worn out from the migraine that sinks its claws into her head. Her throat feels raw and her cheeks feel sticky from the dry hotel air clinging to the tears she shed last night. But, Azzi knows she isn’t allowed to feel like this. She knows it’s unfair, but she can’t help herself.

“Azzi?” Cam’s voice is muffled but lighthearted. When she opens her eyes, the blonde stands above her with a look of genuine concern across her face. “I had to bribe the receptionist for a key, but I think I overpaid. She gave me a mint too.” The amusement in Cam’s eyes loosen a shackle around Azzi’s turbulent heart. 

“Hi Cam,” she rasps. She opens her mouth again when the two stare blankly at each other. “I’m so sor-”

“She hasn’t been doing great since she heard that you were coming to LA. I put her on alcohol probation because I knew she would do something stupid if she were drunk, and thankfully, that didn’t happen.” Cam shakes her head before plastering on a pitiful look when she inspects the shivering brunette. 

“Has she been drinking a lot?” The words escape Azzi’s mouth before her brain fully processes them. The taller blonde standing before her winces but masks it with a feigned, but thoughtful look.

“Um… not really, no.” She stammers, averting her gaze from Azzi. “What happened to you though? Where’s your fiancé?” Her stormy blue eyes scan the room until they rest on her shattered phone. Azzi swallows nervously when Cam crouches next to the debris.“Oh my goodness. Azzi, where is he?” the taller woman breathes while hunched over, inspecting the remaining pieces of her phone. 

“I don’t know,” she breathes. “We got into an argument and he…he left.” 

“Azzi…”

April 17th, 2020

Arlington, Virginia

Paige has a problem. 

She’s slowly sinking into the Fudds’ sofa with one of Azzi’s books in her lap as she “subtly” looks at her best friend, admiring how she moves, how she blinks, and even how her face contorts into a scowl around her brothers as they swarm her while waving their dirty socks in her face. Unfortunately, Paige isn’t very good at stealing glances at her best friend. Her blue eyes catch Azzi’s warm, brown ones that are narrowed at her.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Azzi sighs while plopping down on the other side of the couch. Paige’s heart drops when she sees the distance at which the other girl is sitting: away from her. 

“Sorry,” she mutters slowly while returning to the book. She can’t focus though, the constant train of Azzi, Azzi infiltrates her brain. The brunette has been off since their plane ride back from Belarus almost 2 years ago. When she woke up in the morning, a searing pain scorched through her head and throat. Her vision was blurry and all her senses were disoriented. However, the feeling of her left hand latched onto her best friend’s waist underneath her hoodie and her right hand tangled in the mess of her best friend’s soft curls seemed to cure her hangover. She suddenly became aware of Azzi’s head resting on Paige’s chest as she snored softly, sending vibrations up her spine. 

Rather than reveling in the comforting and warm feeling provided by the other body, she detached herself in a hurry as a familiar feeling of panic surged through her veins. One that only existed when the lines of their friendship began to crack. Their conversation at breakfast and on the plane was extraordinarily uncomfortable, and the tension was palpable; it felt heavy on Paige’s shoulders when they stiffly and very hesitantly hugged goodbye after landing in Minnesota.

It was a silent and mutual agreement to ignore the “incident” and continue with their friendship even though the strict lines of their friendship were now permanently impaired. The once-familiar norms of their friendship and well-established boundaries were now blurred. Neither of them wanted to admit it though, so they pretended. They pretended everything was alright. By the time the State Fair rolled around that year, they found a sense of near normalcy. Near. Normalcy. To say that Paige wasn’t hurt by it was an understatement, but Azzi had to pretend. If she didn’t pretend, everything would crumble. 

After wishing Azzi’s family good night, the two start their unbearably slow trek to Azzi’s room. There was discord between the two girls; it became excess weight that the girls dragged along, making the usually quick journey feel strenuous and even longer than normally perceived. As she plops down on her side of the pillow barrier that had been put in place since Paige arrived in Virginia, Azzi grabs the TV remote and jams a few buttons until Frozen appears on the screen.

“Do you ever get tired of this movie? Like damn, Elsa making a castle of ice to seclude herself from everything else seems kinda emo.” Paige’s snide comment earns a punch from her best friend on the other side of the pillow wall. 

“Shut up, Paige. You’ve just never been able to put yourself in Anna’s shoes,” Azzi retorts. Paige doesn’t miss the soft chords of her laughter hidden amongst the playful banter. “Isn’t it symbolic how she goes from one love to another?”

“Bro, this shit-” Her words are cut off when Azzi sticks a finger in her face. Groaning, she slumps into her pillow and closes her eyes. After a few minutes, the obnoxiously loud music is abruptly cut off. Paige’s eyes fly open as she sits up before meeting Azzi’s eyes. Her dark eyes glow in the dark and she sees every little detail of her brown irises and dilated pupils.

“I got bored.” She states before whipping out her phone. 

“You never get bored of Frozen.”

“Well, I guess you kind of got to me.” 

“Az, what’s wrong? Talk to me, c’mon. You’ve been off this whole time that I’ve been here.” 

Azzi sighs and puts her phone down against her chest. “I don’t know. Good night, Paige. I’m gonna sleep.” Instead of a verbal response, she is smothered under a cushioned weight. “Ow, what the f-” 

“Azzi. What’s. Wrong?” Paige’s face is contorted in a scowl but her voice is soft and reassuring. The brunette picks at her fingers, refusing to meet her best friend’s gaze. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” She turns so that her back faces Paige. The air weighs down on them, heavy from the exasperated breaths that have escaped the mouths of the two girls. Paige chews on her lip as she watches the other girl scroll through a myriad of Instagram stories when she sees a particularly provocative story that makes her blood boil: a close-friends story with a picture of Azzi and a guy sitting at a cafe together with the caption “sniped.”

“Is this about the night in Belarus?” Azzi’s blood runs cold and she brings her phone to her chest before turning to Paige. She closes her eyes before letting out a silent groan. “We can’t ignore it forever. It’s causing a rift between us, and we’re gonna have to address it at one point.”

“That night was a fucking mistake.” Paige flinches and whips her head in the other direction, away from Azzi. She isn’t sure if it’s the blonde’s relentless jabs for information or her frustration that still lingers that prompts the harshness in her tone. 

“Az, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I woke up hungover with you in my arms. Bonus, I guess.” When Azzi doesn’t laugh at Paige’s sarcastic quip, she sighs but continues. “Believe me, I was confused too. I guess we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but since then, you’ve been so fucking distant,” Paige clenches her jaw in frustration. When she receives silence as an answer, she slumps into her pillow and stares at the barrier. 

“You know, I went on a date the other day.” Azzi’s words break the uncomfortable silence. The blonde gapes at her before laughing awkwardly. However, the air from her lungs is sucked out of her body and she feels a force that doesn’t break through her skin or bones but shatters her heart. 

“That’s cool.” Her tone is dry even though her heart is hammering against her ribcage. “Um… how’d it go?” Her tone is dry, but she still asks. Because Azzi is her best friend, and that’s what best friends do, right?

“It was… fine. I haven’t talked to him since, though. I guess we didn’t hit it off, you know? Not like he was my type anyway.” Paige nods, averting her gaze to hide her relief. “Are you jealous?” Azzi teases, smirking shyly at the flustered blonde. “You don’t have to be. He was awkward and we didn’t have a good time. I would rather have spent the time with you.”

“Oh,” Paige murmurs while chewing on her upper lip, only half listening to Azzi. “I would’ve rather spent the time with you too. The date sounded boring.” The room becomes eerily silent and both of them begin to feel the weight of the tension on their shoulders.

“It’s just gonna be weird when you go to college.” Azzi finally mutters, burying her face into her pillow and releasing a heavy sigh. 

“We’ll still FaceTime every night, it’ll even be easier because we’ll be in the same time zone.” 

“You’ll have rigorous practices because you’re a student-athlete, Paige. You also have homework and I’m sure the college workload is a lot heavier than high school.” The blonde swallows and runs her hands through her messy hair. She hadn’t thought about that.

“Well…we can make it work, I mean, we always have,” she sputters, looking everywhere but at Azzi. “I won’t forget about you, I promise. You’re still my best friend, and you’ll always be.” Her voice grows quiet and she picks at her fingers. Azzi doesn’t miss the way Paige’s eyes seem a little too turbulent, even under the dim light provided by the glow of their phones. 

Instead of acknowledging their feelings, she raises an eyebrow, leaning closer. “Sure. You won’t forget me, right? I swear that after we saw each other in that one AAU tournament you ghosted me for 3 weeks.”

Paige groans, “That was one time. I was busy!”

“Right,” Azzi says, smirking. “Busy becoming an Instagram celebrity with 12 followers. Big league stuff.”

The corners of Paige’s mouth twitch as she remembers her Instagram posts that were specifically tailored for Azzi. “Thirteen now, thank you. And one of them might be a bot, but still, commitment.”

“Thirteen? Wow! That’s a whole basketball roster,” Azzi giggles, prodding at Paige’s ribcage. The blonde squirms away, swatting at Azzi’s hand with a yelp before she retaliates by darting at her toned stomach. “Hey, that’s not fair,” Azzi exclaims with a shaky voice before grabbing Paige’s wrists and flipping her over. Their tickle fight comes to an abrupt stop and Azzi swallows thickly. Oh. 

Suddenly, Paige is very mindful of Azzi’s hot breath that contrasts with the cool air that surrounds them. Each breath makes the skin on her neck prickle with anticipation, but she reluctantly pulls her body away. Instead, she reaches for Azzi’s cheek and caresses the soft skin, sending shivers down both of their bodies. 

“I’ll always be there for you, I promise. It’ll be us against the world, you know what I mean? Paige and Azzi, together.” Her voice is soft and wistful, yet her blue eyes sparkle with determination.

“Together,” Azzi breathes as she buries her head into the older girl’s neck, wrapping her arms around her waist and taking in her rosy scent. Paige’s hands find their way through her curls and everything feels perfect. 

“I’ll miss you. A lot.” 

October 20th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

401. 403. 

“That fucking motherfucker,” Paige snarls under her breath while sprinting down the hotel hallway. The pills in the nearly empty bottle of Ibuprofen rattle against the plastic that threatens to explode under Paige’s grip.

“Room 435. If y’all end up fucking, I don’t wanna hear about it.”

“Fuck you too, Cam.” 405. 407. 409. Paige nearly slams her knee into the sharp corner.

411. 413. 415. 417. 419.

“I’ll always be there for you, I promise.” The words she said 8 years ago just before their unspoken feelings unraveled themselves like a ribbon awaiting a very eager child on the morning of Christmas Day replay in her mind. 

421. 423. 425. 427. Every step adds pressure onto her raging hangover headache. She’s almost there. Almost. 

429, 431, 433. How long is this fucking hallway?

435. Paige stops and hesitates before extending a shaky hand to scan the keycard and open the door. 

April 6th, 2025

Tampa Bay, Florida

A collective and electric feeling of euphoria lightens the air of the gym as the UConn Women’s Basketball team celebrates their hard-fought win against a 1-seed team in the Final Four. Paige weaves her way between her teammates, giving an occasional hug here and there until her eyes land on her. A pair of warm, brown doe eyes stare back at her. Azzi stands in front of her with a wide grin carved across her face. The blonde lets a contented sigh leave her lips and grins, preparing to jump into her best friend’s arms…

October 20th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

In the middle of the room on a king-sized bed lies a familiar figure in her bomber jacket buried under the thick comforter. Her eyes are red and a damp towelette clings onto her forehead. 

“Cam?” An uneasy voice rasps. When the figure lifts herself off the mattress, she freezes. “Paige,” she says cooly, but there’s a hint of wistfulness. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll leave,” Paige manages to stutter out as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, turning away and heading toward the door. “I’ll leave this for you here,” she mutters as she puts the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Feel better soon.”

A muffed, yet broken sob escapes Azzi’s mouth. “Stay, please. I don’t have anyone.” 

That’s all it takes for Paige to open the doors to her heart again. She cautiously walks over while refusing to meet the pair of warm brown eyes that wander over her body. The two sit in silence before it’s broken by another strangled breath that comes out of the brunette. “Shit, Az…zi,” Paige begins to panic, staring at the other woman who has broken into a frenzy of sobs. Reflexively, her hand extends, but it stops, just before reaching her face.

“I don’t get why you’re here,” Azzi chokes out between gasps of air. 

“I…I made a promise.” Paige replies curtly. Her fingers move on their own accord as they begin to caress the tears away. Inside of her head, everything is ringing, telling her that this is wrong. But Paige decides to ignore it and she hopes that this time will be different from every other time. “I’ll always be here for you. Cam told me you weren’t doing great so I came over with Ibuprofen. Paige looks around the room nervously. The alarm bells in her head have been going off for too long. “Look, I think I should go, but it was nice to-” 

To her shock, Azzi cusps her cheeks and pulls her in for a searing kiss. There’s hunger in it as they move their mouths in tandem, neither of them pulling away. Azzi lets her tongue slip as Paige lets her hands move down her torso until they reach her waist. Her fingertips dance along the smooth ridges of her skin where they etch the words “I love you.” She grips firmly, pulling the brunette off the bed and pressing her flush against her own body. “Fuck,” the younger woman moans against Paige’s lips, sending a shiver through the older woman’s body. Azzi starts to tangle her hands through Paige’s hair until-

Her eyes fly open. 

April 6th, 2025

Tampa Bay, Florida

…Until her best friend is whisked away by a mysterious man with olive skin and brown curls. Paige’s heart plummets into her stomach when his firm hand grasps Azzi’s waist. She turns away, throws herself into KK’s eager arms, and plasters a smile onto her face. 

Because it’s okay, and Paige will be okay. 

We’re not exclusive. 

October 20th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

The room is dark and empty except for the sound of familiar, anguished coughs. The pungent scent of weed smoke fills the air and Azzi stifles a gag. She lets her eyes flutter open. When she does, she catches a glimpse of shimmering blonde hair. It makes her heart beat erratically. It’s been 3 years. 3 years of separation from each other, yet she knows it’s Paige Bueckers. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The blonde whips around, startled by an unfamiliar harsh voice. 

As an olive-skinned man slides through the door of the hotel room, Paige is harshly reminded of the diamond ring that sits on her Azzi’s ring finger. “Charles.” Paige extends a hand to the man. His bloodshot eyes flicker down to her hand, devoid of any jewelry, before they meet Paige’s again. After a heartbeat, their hands clasp firmly in a brief handshake–his grip firm, too firm. Her pulse quickens, yet she refuses to flinch and meets his gaze with equal intensity. 

“Paige. Hi.”

Behind him, Paige notices three things. First, the putrid stench of weed hits her in waves. Second, she sees a pile of a white, powdery substance on the bathroom counter. Third, she sees a flushed Azzi, who lies alone in an otherwise untouched bed. The sight of Azzi in a vulnerable position sends 

Charles studies her with curiosity and a very noticeable sniffle. “Do you… need anything? Why are you here?”

Every nerve in her body begs her to stay and push the lame excuse of a man out of the way. Most of all, the only thing she wants to do is cradle the younger woman in her arms and tell her that everything will be okay. But Paige sighs and hands Charles the pill bottle before turning away. “No, Cam told me to drop this off. I’ll be heading out, but take care.” She feels a pair of brown doe eyes engraving themselves onto the back of her head, but she can’t. She walks away. 

Paige Bueckers, you’re such an idiot.

***

Three days later, Paige and the rest of her teammates are huddled around a secluded table at a local bar. It’s in a secluded part of the city, giving the team privacy despite the energy in the air. Rickea Jackson had organized the meet-up impulsively after hearing about Azzi’s plans to return to New York for the next two weeks in preparation to officially move to Los Angeles. 

The team is decently buzzed, having ordered 2 rounds of shots already. They’re ready to let loose tonight; most people had plans to visit their families in the upcoming weeks. 

As for Paige, it’s evident that she has consumed several drinks already. She needs an escape from the labyrinth of her thoughts that trap and corner her. She’s spiraling, and she doesn’t have the energy to fight against it. Cam, Rickea, and even Dearica insisted that Paige should stay sober tonight, but Paige was drowning. She was adamant about drinking after the events that occurred earlier in the week. Cam and Dearica did their best to distract her, taking her to lifts, pickup games, and even shopping after her birthday. And while it worked beautifully for a few days, the effects of the distraction were completely worn off by tonight. 

Paige sits in a secluded corner of the bar, trying to separate herself from the rest of her team. The sight of Azzi sitting across from her amplifies Paige’s heightened anxiety. Her eyes are trained on Azura Stevens, who is animatedly telling her about the children she worked with the other day while nursing a drink at the same time. Although partially disengaged, Azzi stays polite and friendly. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it, a small part of Paige’s heart flutters at the sight of Azzi assimilating well with the Sparks. 

“Paige, were you even listening to me?” Next to her, an exasperated Cam stands up and walks up to the shorter woman. Her hand rubs soothing circles on Paige’s back; a simple gesture that causes her waterline to prickle and prompts tears to form. Azzi’s eyes flicker over to Paige, noticing the dark circles around her eyes. Her blue irises have lost their luster, and her shoulders are slumped forward. The blonde glances at Azzi and offers a weak nod of acknowledgment. The friendly act sends static electricity through her body.

She doesn’t know how their relationship, or the remnants of it, got to the point where even the simplest friendly gesture seldomly happens. Azzi tries to ignore the heavy pit of if only things were different that knots itself into her stomach. But she fails and it simmers with the turbulent sea of her emotions. 

“Yo, Az!” Odyssey Sim’s booming voice catches Azzi off guard and causes her to flinch. A flicker of concern flashes over Paige’s face but it is quickly masked with a guarded scowl. It’s an emotion only Azzi can discern; the two women spent years carving themselves into each other’s skin, etching marks of unspoken promises in every crevice. They were each other’s mosaics; they spent years meticulously putting every intricate piece together. Azzi learned the meaning behind the faintest, yet most intentional quivers of Paige’s muscles from their years together. 

But now, everything about Paige seems foreign. 

If Odyssey and Paige notice how Azzi flinches at the loud voice, they ignore it. At least, Paige does. “Az, come join us,” Odyssey’s voice is softer, with tones of empathy laced under each syllable. “Truth or drink, team tradition.” Reluctantly, she hoists herself from her seat to walk over to Odyssey and the flock of basketball players passing a bottle of Devil’s Spring around. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Azzi mutters to Azura who laughs and ruffles her hair playfully. “Azura, I can’t play truth or drink. We’re adults, not carefree college students,” she glances at Paige who is animatedly arguing with Odyssey about getting a virgin shot. 

“Odyssey, that’s not fair. I’on even drink that much anymore,” Paige whines, throwing her hands over her head. Odyssey frowns and pours the blonde a shot of vodka, not wanting to argue with her. Paige grins triumphantly and Cam rolls her eyes from across the table. 

Azura snickers and turns to Azzi. “You’ll be fine kiddo. Team tradition.” 

Azzi groans, letting her head drop into her hands. She did not want to share too much information with her teammates, and she did not want to be completely shitfaced in front of her new teammates. After all, that’s more Paige’s fashion than hers, but not wanting to fight with her teammates, she allows Azura to pour her a shot. 

Or two.

Or three. 

Paige watches her, amused by the uncertainty painted across her face as she warily inspects the three nearly overflowing shot glasses. Azzi glances up at her, an unreadable expression flashing across her face before she turns away, her jaw tightening. Paige knows it’s unfair, but she flinches at the hostility swarming the warm brown eyes she’s grown to know and love.  

***

The bar buzzes with a faint hum of music and laughter, the kind that borders being too loud but also keeping everyone grounded in the moment. The occasional boisterous cheers after a teammate opts to throw a drink back instead of answering personal questions about their sex lives that emanate from the table earn occasional glares from bystanders.

“Alright, alright. We gotta save some questions for our princess,” Odyssey announces, cutting through the chatter as she leans forward across the table, flipping through a messy notebook full of questions. “Fudd, you’re up.” 

Azzi swallows, feeling the intense gazes of all of her teammates scouring her body as if their stares could rip all her secrets apart. She stiffens when a dark gleam enters Odyssey’s gaze as she scribbles something on a slip of paper and hands it to her. When she opens the note, she stiffens, a cold bead of sweat dribbling down her neck. 

“Have you ever ruined someone else’s relationship?” Azzi reads aloud, her voice hesitant. The table erupts with laughter and a bunch of “oohs” and “ahhs.” From across the table, Paige pretends to seem unfazed but her subtle nail-biting reveals her uneasy demeanor, but there’s a hint of a silent challenge that enters her eyes. 

“Damn, Sims. You really went for the throat for our little newbie,” Cam chuckles, earning a glare from Azzi. Azura leans back in her seat, sipping from her drink while giving Azzi an encouraging nod. 

“Team tradition,” Odyssey grins unapologetically while twirling the ballpoint pen in between her fingers. “Gotta make it memorable for our first-timer, right?” 

Azzi flips her off before glancing at the paper slip again, debating whether she should throw the shot of vodka back that sits next to her. The weight of the question settles over her like a heavy cloak. It’s not an easy one to avoid–if she drinks, her teammates will know that she’s hiding something from them. However, if she answers, she knows she will regret it tonight. Before she can let herself decide, she opens her mouth, and a single syllable rolls off her tongue.

“Yeah.” Paige’s eyebrows shoot up before furrowing as she leans forward ever so slightly. The table falls silent for a moment, a silence louder than the music and laughter in the bar. The weight of the curiosity of her teammates settles down on her, drowning and suffocating her. Cam and Paige share a knowing look with each other and cough awkwardly. 

“Well… do you regret it?” Odyssey asks, her gaze flickering knowingly between Paige and Azzi. Azzi’s fingers tighten around the shot glass, her knuckles whitening. Paige savors the way the muscles in her fingers flex for a split second before swallowing and glancing at Azzi expectantly.

“It’s complicated…” she finally mutters, desperately looking around at her teammates. Paige scoffs silently, turning away to sip from her drink. When Azzi risks a glance at Paige, guilt pools in her stomach as she notices the hurt and anger that flickers in her eyes. The tension between them is palpable, their unspoken history hanging between them like a storm cloud. 

Eventually, when it’s Paige's turn, she leans back in her chair, basking in the attention of her teammates. “Guess it’s my turn,” she mutters. 

“Alright, superstar,” Odyssey mocks while sticking her tongue out at the blonde. She scribbles down a question and slides it across the table. Paige picks it up, silently inspecting it before letting out a dry laugh. 

“What’s the biggest mistake you’ve ever made?” she reads aloud, her voice tinged with irony. The table falls into an uncomfortable silence again. Paige doesn’t hesitate and picks up her shot glass and downs the vodka in one smooth motion. Azzi traces a loose droplet that dribbles down her neck before clinging to her toned collarbone exposed by the simple tank top that frames Paige’s tall figure. The tightness in her chest grows. She knows Paige’s avoidance isn’t about the question, but more about her. The blonde slams the shot glass on the table and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes fixed on Azzi. 

“Guess you’ll never know,” Paige says with a hollow smile, her voice piercing Azzi’s skin like daggers. The game continues, but the once-exuberant laughter begins to settle down. The tension between the two basketball players lingers and the unspoken words and old wounds simmer beneath the surface. She knows the night is far from over, but she’d rather be anywhere other than her hotel room. 

***

As her teammates began to leave their seats and move to the dance floor, Azzi and Paige were involuntarily sitting next to each other. The distance between them was only several feet, but it felt like miles of separation with their unspoken past. Surprisingly, a soft and familiar voice addresses her.

“I’m sorry ‘bout the other night,” Paige murmurs hesitantly, staring at her feet. The knot in Azzi’s chest is tightened and she feels suffocated by Paige’s words, soft but genuine. The once-vibrant atmosphere of the bar feels muted, with the steady bass of the music fading into the background. Azzi doesn’t respond immediately, her fingers curling around the rim of her shot glass as if it could anchor her. The apology hangs between them, fragile yet heavy, and Azzi can only hear the erratic drumming of her own heart. 

“What are you sorry for, Paige?” her voice is quiet but laced with sharpness. Her eyes drift to the pair of blue eyes, once so lively and full of a sparkle that has dulled out and left an almost deserted shell. 

Paige flinches at her tone, but she presses on, her voice soft and cautious. “For, well, everything,” she mutters under her breath, a lonely tear sliding down her smooth cheek. Azzi instinctively reaches over to caress the tear off of her face. At first, Paige flinches at the feeling of her warm hand but leans into her touch. The blonde finally lifts her gaze, meeting the brunette’s. The expression in her eyes–equal parts regret and vulnerability–knocks the wind out of Azzi. It was once the expression that was used to unravel the thread that tied Azzi’s defenses to her heart together, but it’s now the one that feels like a knife twisting in an old wound. 

The silence stretches between them, thick and suffocating as Azzi retracts her hand, her fingers tingling with the familiar warmth of Paige’s skin. She hadn’t meant for her defenses to slip, but the sight of Paige’s tear stirred something she thought she’d buried.

“Azzi?”

“Yeah, Paige?”

“Does he treat you well?” Azzi’s eyes widen and her body stiffens before she can nurse her expressions into a feigned happiness. Paige doesn’t miss the way her body reacts and her gaze softens with a knowing expression. The question is simple with no ill intention, but Paige’s gentle gaze stays locked to hers.

“Of course, he does,” her voice too light, too practiced. Paige’s eyebrows raise slightly in suspicion, but she doesn’t say anything. 

Paige tilts her head slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Good to you,” she repeats softly, almost as if she’s testing the words. There’s no accusation, only quiet observation, but it feels like she’s shining a spotlight on all of Azzi’s cracks. 

Azzi shifts in her seat. “Why do you care, Paige?” she finally asks, her voice harsher than intended. She meets Paige’s eyes, and the question lingers in the space between them; jagged, heavy, and raw. 

Paige doesn’t flinch and instead holds Azzi’s gaze, her blue eyes shimmering with raw emotion that she doesn’t bother to hide. “Because I care about you,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “And, I know you, Az. I know when you’re lying.” Azzi feels her throat tighten, and she swallows hard. The urge to protect herself flares up, but she forces it down. She stares at the amber liquid in her glass instead as if it holds the answers that she doesn’t want to face. 

When she lifts her head up, Paige leans in closer, bridging the distance between them. “You deserve better. You deserve to be happy.” Azzi’s chest aches as she opens her mouth, but no words come out. 

Just then, the bell of the bar door rings aggressively. All eyes in the bar turn to the olive-skinned man with unruly hair and red eyes standing in the doorway. 

“Azzi, where are you?” Charles slurs while scanning the area like a predator hunting for its prey. Next to Paige, Azzi’s breathing slows and her body goes rigid. She glances at Paige, panic in her eyes. “Azzi…” Before he can continue, Paige steps firmly between them. “She doesn’t want to talk to you right now,” Paige says sharply, her tone slicing through the tense air. Charles lets out a dry and humorless laugh, his lips curling into a sinister sneer. “And who the hell are you to tell me that? Her ex? Thought you’d be out of the picture by now.” When Paige’s jaw tightens, he knows he’s struck a nerve. He moves closer to her, jabbing a shaky finger into her chest. “She never fucking cared about you. Drop it.” 

Azzi sucks in a sharp breath and sinks her teeth into her upper lip as she closes her eyes. Fuck, she really didn’t want this. Paige’s jaw tightened and her hands clenched into fists by her sides. She knows she’s strong enough to take him on. “I’m someone who actually gives a damn about your fucking fiancée,” she sneers.

Charles chuckles mockingly, staggering forward until his booze-heavy breath fanned over Paige’s face. “You don’t know anything about us.”

“I know enough,” Paige snapped. Azzi’s head swam as she watched the confrontation unfold, her body frozen between the two people pulling her in opposite directions. Charles glances at the brunette, scowling. “Why don’t you back off, princess? This is gonna get messy real fast.”

Before Azzi could respond, a sickening crunch split the thick air between Charles and Paige. Startled, Azzi sits up and lets out a shriek. A silhouette of olive skin and blood stumbles and falls backward. Paige stands at the door, unscathed. Relief courses through Azzi’s veins until she notices the tears streaking down the blonde’s cheeks and her uneasy breathing. 

“Agh, fuck!” Charles screams, grabbing his nose. “Fuck, you’re a fucking maniac!” 

Azzi doesn’t know what’s going on. She’s suddenly hit by the warm, humid air of the Los Angeles night as she’s being dragged by Paige’s cool, but secure grip on her wrist. The noise of the bar fades into a distant hum, and she’s only half aware of the world around her as she’s pulled into the quiet of the night. 

Her feet stumble to keep up with Paige’s determined stride, her brain still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions. The feeling of Paige’s hand around her wrist is grounding, a tether in the uncertainty of her future. They don’t stop walking until they reach the car, the cool metal clicking open. Azzi doesn’t protest; she lets herself be guided into the passenger seat where Paige’s familiar rosy scent envelopes her. 

Paige doesn’t say anything at first while she slides into the driver’s seat as they ride in an unusual silence. It’s not suffocating, but raw and uncertain. Azzi finally glances at Paige, her shoulders slumped as she grips the wheel so hard that her knuckles are white and bleeding from the encounter in the bar. 

“Why are you doing this?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige glances at her, her face soft yet unreadable. “I care about you, Az. I won’t let you keep pretending everything is fine.” Azzi doesn’t respond right away as she lets the words settle in her chest. They stir up the guilt that lingers from their last encounter 3 years ago. But she lets herself relax in the quiet of the night as the city lights flicker past.

For the first time since she got to the city, Azzi lets herself breathe. 

[brossession-collection]

Dad's Cam Show (Re-uploaded)

Note: This is a story I wrote in 2020 that was previously deleted by Tumblr. Couldn't find it until I stumbled upon am old hard drive. Hope you enjoy.

--

This social distancing shit is so boring. I get it. It’s needed. But god damn am I running out of things to do. Can’t even meet the guys I’ve been talking to on Grindr. Worse yet is that I’m stuck back at home. I was supposed to graduate college this year! Instead I was slumped over a computer screen in my PJs with my dad making his special pancakes. Ugh. Fuck this shit. I just wish I could go back to a better time.

Whatever. I’m done complaining. Dad’s getting groceries which means I can snoop around his shit. Yeah I’m that bored.

Dad’s a big burly guy. Heading into his mid-forties now and starting to gray up a little, but still keeping his body builder life style. He’s pretty open with me. He told me he used to do cam shows back before livestreams were even a thing. Made sense. Had to show off the bod somehow. Don’t know how mom thought about it but whatever. She’s out of the picture.

His room always had a musky woodsy cologne-y smell. His laundry hamper was even better. I always loved taking his briefs out of there and putting them on myself. I’ve been following his footsteps and bodybuilding myself, but I’m still a ways away before I have an ass and waist as large as his. So his 36in undies droop a bit. I grabbed his black cap too. Man. He loves this thing. Well, plus the 10 others caps he has. He always had it topping his head. Pretty sure he wears it to sleep too. I put it on and flexed like him. I got a bit of a boner but nothing crazy.

His dinosaur of a laptop was open, and logged in. I know I shouldn’t have, but I did it anyways. There were so many folders within folders. So much boring shit… and then I found “cam pics.”

The briefs I was wearing tented and wetted. Fuck I was so scared to open it. But I clicked it and… In there was only one image. I clicked on it to make it bigger and it was my dad. About 13 years ago. He was shirtless, and wearing the same cap that I have on my head right now. My eyes drifted from his hairy arms to his chest to eventually his bearded face. He looked so… tired? There was something about the softness in his expression that really got to me. And then…

“Hey son! I’m home! Could ya help me with the groceries?”

Shit. I got up and scrambled. The briefs were soaked and still being soaked. I had so many windows to close out of. Then I started hearing his footsteps come closer. I panicked and grabbed the top of the laptop to close it, but I couldn’t move. Suddenly, all the windows on the screen started to close. All except for the image of dad I had opened it. It enlarged by itself, and then the laptop started to fucking shake. I tried to get it to stop but it just kept rumbling. Fuck it. I wound up my fist and punched the screen. But there was no impact.

In less than a second my body followed my wrist into the screen. Everything went bright, and I was in a different room. I looked around. It looked like my parents’ room at our old house. The same laptop was in front of me showing the same image as before. Dad’s younger face looking back… And then I saw his eyes move. I froze. I looked at the time. 12:56 turned to 12:57. This wasn’t an image. It was a fucking livestream.

I slowly tilted my head. Dad did the same. I widened my eyes. So did dad. A smile crept over our faces. I just time travelled! And into dad’s body! Fuck there was so much I could do now!

“PING”

A old-school AIM notification popped up on screen. I maneuvered dad’s hand to the mouse and clicked on it. “Hey daddy. You gonna give us a show or what?”

“PING”

“Let’s see those hairy pits man!”

Fuck. I guess dad wasn’t kidding about these cam shows. Shit how do I reply? Do I just say something?

“Uh…” I gulped. Dad’s gruff voice was in my throat. “You guys mean… uh… this?” I lifted and flexed dad’s right arm. Immediately his armpit hair bursted out. Moist and smelly. My nose naturally turned towards the sweaty pit. Holy fuck was it musky. I took a deep whiff and groaned.

“PING. PING. PING. PING.”

“Fuck yeah daddy. Sniff that pit.”

“God damn you’re a big guy. How’s it feel huh?”

It felt amazing being so big. Watching everything I was doing be reflected by my dad on the recording was even better. The cockiness came in.

I wheeled the office chair back and did a double bicep pose. Sweat dripped off his hairy pits. I gave my face a rub and felt his beard scratch against his callused fingers. Then my hands felt the need to go down to his chest. I never felt so much pleasure from nipple rubbing in my life. The pings kept on coming. It was euphoric.

Dad’s cock was tenting the briefs I had put on earlier. I uncaged his 7 incher and let out a whiff of junk musk that filtered into my nose immediately. I started stroking and couldn’t stop. My other hand reached under dad’s taint, through the forest of pubes, and rammed a dildo into my dad’s ass crack.

“PING. PING. PING.”

“Holy fuck this is new! We gonna see a fingering show today!?”

“God damn man you enjoying yourself?”

I was. Everytime Dad’s moans left my throat I felt cock twitch a little bit harder. It just felt so amazing to feel his beefy arms rub against his beefy chest. His toes curling with every electric shock of pleasure moving through his beefy ass and legs.

I shot his load. Let out a gutteral yell. And it didn’t stop coming. My beard was soaked with three shots of cum. Chest was drenched with eight more. At this point, sweat was trickling down my temples. I relished in dad’s orgasm and then relaxed in the chair.

I watched as the notifications went crazy. Dad’s soft eyes housing my consciousness. Ugh. It felt incredible. I glanced over at his hat and felt the need to take it off. I did, and felt a wave of cool relief come off my head. Dad’s hair was cropped short, like a messy crew cut. And it was dripping with sweat. I felt the need to say something.“You like that, men?” Dad had so much suave in voice. The pings accelerated.I smiled and played with my cock. I could feel another round coming but felt a bigger presence unfold. Suddenly dad’s body started to shake. I tried controlling it, but I couldn’t weigh him down. My arms were flailing before my hands grabbed onto the edges of the desk. I whipped my head back, then head-butted the laptop screen. Light filtered through.

I was back at home, in my dad’s loose fitting briefs, his cap nestled on my head. Dad’s footsteps came by, then turned another direction. Guess he wasn’t coming by his room just yet. I looked down at his briefs, now soaked with my cum. Fuck. Was it just a dream?

It must’ve been. Just a fucking horny fever dream. What the fuck ever. Better than what I had been doing up until now. I leaned over to close the laptop but noticed something.

The image had turned into a recording.

[twopoppies]

I just saw a Daily Mail article...Lottie and Lewis better buckle up. Caroline's mum is all ready to drag them through the mud and that documentary isn't even due out until the end of the year. She swipes at Lou Teasdale as well.

Why Caroline Flack's mum finds her ex's new romance 'devastating' https://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-14272227/Why-Caroline-Flacks-mum-finds-ex-boyfriends-new-romance-influencer-devastating-showbiz-bombshell-KATIE-HIND.html?ito=native_share_article-nativemenubutton

Yikes. Yeah, I saw that was happening. I mean, everything surrounding Lewis when he first got together with Lottie seemed very shady. And he didn’t seem like a great boyfriend to Caroline. And I can totally understand Caroline’s mother not being able to let go of the fact that Lewis moved on to this seemingly glamorous and happy life after her daughter died.

But this second documentary comes across more like a way to attack him and other people she feels let Caroline down, rather than providing closure. It’s all terribly sad.

[…] One person who didn't join in the congratulatory messages was Christine Flack, the mother of television presenter Caroline who took her own life five years ago next month.

The much-loved 40-year-old had been in a turbulent relationship with Lewis – a model and former professional tennis player – who was 13 years her junior.

It was this relationship, Caroline's mother openly declared on social media, that 'ended her life'.

Indeed, it was a late-night explosive row between the two in 2019, after Caroline was said to have found text messages from another woman on his phone, that led to her hitting him with a lamp, being charged with assault - and ultimately resulted in her downward mental spiral and suicide on February 15, 2020.

It's understandable, therefore, that Christine found Lewis's new romance so difficult to take: the pair went public six months after Caroline died when they were spotted on holiday in Ibiza.

It's also understandable that Christine has long questioned whether the messages Caroline found on Lewis's phone that night may have been from Lottie.

Now Lottie, the younger sister of One Direction band member Louis Tomlinson and one of the UK's most sought after influencers, with more than four million followers on Instagram, has spoken about the scurrilous suggestion for the first time to the Mail.

Referring to the text messages Caroline is said to have found on Lewis's phone that night, her agent said: 'It is not true at all, they hadn't even met before at the time of the incident. Hope this clears that rumour up.'

Today, Lottie, 27, and Lewis, 33, live together in a £800,000 five-bedroom, three-bathroom luxury home in Kent which they are renovating in the style of a Los Angeles mansion.

The property, which both Lottie and Lewis regularly post about on social media, even has its own Instagram account.

As one of Caroline's friends tells me: 'It must be devastating for Christine, she has lost her daughter and now Lewis has become some kind of influencer with his girlfriend, living in apparent bliss and about to become a father for the second time.

[…]

In a statement yesterday, she said: 'I still have so many questions about what happened to Caroline in her final months, and it's something I feel deeply compelled to explore, even though I know it will be challenging. I'm pleased to be working with the team at Curious Films once again, in the hope of bringing clarity and understanding to Carrie's story – not just for her, but for everyone who cared about her.'

There are many targets, including the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) and ITV – whom Christine is said to take 'a very dim view of' for sacking her daughter from her beloved job hosting the dating show Love Island.

Caroline killed herself after learning that her criminal trial for assaulting Lewis was going ahead, after initially being told she would only be given a caution.

Caroline had feared that the body cam footage taken by police on the night the incident took place would be played out in court. In a confession to a pal, she said she would 'rather die' than have the recordings played in a public arena.

Lewis was first spotted with influencer Lottie Tomlinson six months after Caroline's death

[…]

[Lou Teasdale] was one of Caroline's best friends, and the pair would regularly party together. And it was through Louise that Lewis got to know Lottie: Louise became friends with Louis Tomlinson through her work as the stylist for One Direction in their heyday.

It's a close friendship that endures today - another thing Christine finds very uncomfortable.

'Christine could be forgiven for thinking that Caroline's friends might have cast Lewis adrift,' one former friend of the television host tells me. 'But that isn't the case and it is hard for her.

'While nobody would try to argue that Caroline [wasn't] an easy person to be around at times, it has been another part of Caroline's death which has been difficult for Christine.

'Lewis wasn't always so nice to Caroline and there has been much talk about her giving him money for reasons that people don't known for certain.

'Christine and Louise are no longer close and her not ditching Lewis is thought to be a contributing factor for it. Christine thinks that if it hadn't been for Caroline going out with Lewis, she might be here today.'

Others point out that Louise 'did so much' for Caroline and was utterly devastated by her death – something she believes she will never get over.

'Caroline's death was a tragedy,' said one source close to Louise, who is now dating former Newcastle United and England footballer Andy Carroll.

'She wanted nothing more than for Caroline to get better and get through what was such an awful time. She is still today utterly devastated by her death but she has known Lottie since she was a teenager.

'Caroline's friends are simply trying to get on with their lives after the most terrible thing happened. It is awful and heartbreaking for them, too.'

Full article here

[rapeculturerealities]

Cop Who Got a Woman Arrested for Her Stillbirth Kept the Fetal Remains - Jezebel

Even before the fall of Roe v. Wade, women being locked up for their pregnancy outcomes was sadly a problem. Between 2006 and 2020 nearly 1,300 people faced criminal charges for conduct associated with pregnancy, pregnancy loss, abortion, or birth, and in the first year post-Dobbs alone, more than 200 people were arrested.

But the story of a Nevada mother’s pre-Dobbs arrest and incarceration published this week in the Washington Post highlights the lengths law enforcement will go to criminalize someone who they believe must be punished. Patience Frazier had a stillbirth in rural Nevada in April 2018, wrapped the remains, and buried them in her yard, marking the grave with a cross. Frazier’s babysitter, Elishia Hill—a woman who the Post describes as “devoutly Christian”—reported her to the police. (Basic facts about the case were first reported more than two years ago by the Nevada Independent, but the Post spoke to multiple people involved in the investigation and chose to publish police body cam footage of officers digging up the remains.)

[haveyouseenthishorrormovie]

Stats from Movies 1-100

Top 10 Movies - Highest Number of Votes

Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) had the most votes with 2,493 votes.

The 10 Most Watched Films by Percentage

Coraline (2009) was the most watched film with 89.41% of voters saying they had seen it.

The 10 Least Watched Films by Percentage

Halloween (2007) was the least watched film with 64.13% of voters saying they hadn't seen it.

The 10 Most Known Films by Percentage

Coraline (2009) was the best known film with only 0.08% of voters saying they'd never heard of it.

The 10 Least Known Films by Percentage

Shrooms (2007) was the least known film with 74.77% of voters saying they'd never heard of it.

The movies part of the statistic count and their polls below the cut.

Carrie (1976) Scream (1996) Hereditary (2018) It (2017) Candyman (1992) Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988) The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) The Babadook (2014) Paranormal Activity (2007) An American Werewolf in London (1981)

Misery (1990) The Fly (1986) Black Swan (2010) House of 1000 Corpses (2003) The Devil’s Rejects (2005) 3 from Hell (2019) Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008) Halloween (1978) Halloween (2007) Re-Animator (1985)

My Bloody Valentine (1981) Tucker and Dale vs Evil (2010) Little Shop of Horrors (1986) Scary Movie (2000) Birdemic: Shock and Terror (2010) Psycho (1960) Train to Busan (2016) Thelma (2017) The Dark (2018) Ravenous (1999)

Shrooms (2007) Let the Right One In (2008) It Follows (2014) Martyrs (2008) The Wicker Man (1973) The Descent (2005) Dead End (2003) Fear Street trilogy (2021) The Ring (2002) Bride of Re-Animator (1990)

Frankenstein (1931) Broken (1993) NoroI: The Curse (2005) The Eyes of My Mother (2016) Jacob's Ladder (1990) Phenomena (1985) Ichi the Killer (2001) Nightbreed (1990) Braindead (1992) Hatching (2022)

Wait Until Dark (1967) The Host (2006) Oculus (2013) Skinamarink (2022) We're All Going to the World's Fair (2021) Perfect Blue (1997) The Night House (2020) Lake Mungo (2008) Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) Phantom of the Paradise (1974)

The Cabin in the Woods (2011) Devour (2005) My Bloody Valentine 3D (2009) Unfriended (2014) Choose or Die (2022) The Ritual (2017) Countdown (2019) The Wretched (2019) House (1977) Suspiria (1977)

Hatchet (2006) Hell House LLC (2015) The Taking of Deborah Logan (2014) The Exorcist (1973) Poltergeist (1982) Gremlins (1984) Child's Play (1988) A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) Audition (1999) Cam (2018)

Jennifer's Body (2009) Ready or Not (2019) Dracula (1931) Freaks (1932) Alien (1979) Saw (2004) House of Wax (2005) Parasite (2019) Nope (2022) The Lost Boys (1987)

Hellraiser (1987) Ghost Ship (2002) Triangle (2009) Talk to Me (2022) Terrifier (2016) Coraline (2009) Monster House (2006) Mama (2013) Pulse (2001) Midsommar (2019)

[centrally-unplanned]

Hard mode - RUO meme 2010s social justice culture.

Not hard at all for me actually! I think I have talked about this explicitly here or there - the SJ movement is a grab bag of topics and movements, and while its dominant strain was toxic and ill-concieved a ton of branches are fine. Recent ones I have mentioned are for example consent culture - a bit more dominant in the feminist era, sure, but 2000's cultural norms around sex and in particular drinking were actually not far from "rape is okay actually". It wasnt *most* people, but others would just openly talk about scoring with blackout drunks and others thought it wrong but it was *normal* enough that they didnt rock the boat over it. We have 100% gotten better about this even if ofc not fixed, and "yes means yes" had a lot of good in that.

I talked recently as well about representation in media - i think the "racial checklist" casting is dumb but "hey lets protray foreign cultures accurately" thing was totally on the nose and has improved media across the board (again obviously not fixed forever or anything).

For a bigger ticket item, lets take police brutality - uh, US police suck! Ofc SJ politics got *really* dumb about this in 2020 and now tries to pretend they never were, but that was a slow build from the 2014 Ferguson protests and there was a ton of spotlight on real issues during that. I do not consider race a strong motivating factor in US policing issues (do not read that as zero factor), but the unaccountability of police in the US is extremely real - police do in fact abuse and even kill people recklessly and just stay on the job. It's now less common due to the SJ movement, and things like employing body cams they should get credit for - and meanwhile we can and should make more progress on this, the crime wave made everyone hard ditch the baby with the bathwater here.

And there are more - oh hey trans issues, gay rights is more the 'feminist' era but trans rights is fully SJ and quite positive, even if shares similar oversteps. If I sat down I could definitely think of more.

The SJ movement was, in the end, defined by an *approach* to politics & institutional culture that was overall quite bad, but its issue domain is broad and was as right as any politics movement is on the merits on many of those.

[peter1rose]

I'm not really sure what to do or where to go. I'm scared, just like any other person is right now. My friends in Canada are scared about how their country will reflect this outcome in their upcoming election. Most of Asia, Africa, and South America seem fairly conservative on LGBTQIA+ rights... so what? Europe?

My main candidate is Sweden right now, since I have a few resources I know I can take advantage of there (light connections, nothing substantial). Some people say if I can make it to a blue state, I will be infinitely safer since they put in a lot of protections for their rights. I considered being a permanent digital nomad, but I have a cat, and she won't be able to handle it. (I know to a lot of people that seems trivial, but she is everything to me. She is more family than my blood relatives.)

And then there's this insurmountable guilt of abandoning my friends, my home, and my fellow people. Despite how fervently some unknown force within me wishes to get away... I love it here. This is my home. I despise this part of me sometimes. Living here can be so painful when I've gone through so much. There is no space here that is new to me, and everywhere is riddled with memories of my past. Time has made them easier to handle, but I can't live peacefully here. I want so badly to help bring about change in any small way but lack resources and physical abilities to do so. I feel like I'm making excuses despite how valid some of them are.

I am reminded of the 2020 BLM protests... I was there the 3rd day with a friend. But things in Georgia became violent rather quickly. The crowd was large, and it became very difficult to stay on the sidewalk. One person tripped, touched their foot to the asphalt road, and that was enough for the police to charge us, knocking several people over and arresting them. I was not far back in the crowd, and I froze. I had to be dragged away by my friend as I watched multiple officers tackle a small Asian American girl and shove her head into the ground. She was the same size as me. We caught eyes and stared at each other helplessly. I'll never forget her face. That moment felt like an eternity. After that my friends would not let me go back. It was unsafe if I couldn't run, and so I spent my days obsessively watching street cams and preparing supplies. Things got worse after the 3rd day. The bags I sent my friends away with were pseudo medical kits. The stories they brought back felt like hell... and I was relegated to relaying emergency messages and packing supplies. I hated myself so much for this. I wanted nothing more than to be there with them helping people and ensuring my friends' safety.

I still freeze now, and it is not the only thing that makes me unsuitable - illness being another large factor for me. Why did god see fit to trap me in such an insolent body when my heart longs to fight? I feel so weak and cowardly.

[beardedmrbean]

A mom has been sentenced to 40 years in prison for having “ambushed and injected” her estranged ex-husband with a fatal dose of poison after he dropped their children back at her home.

Amanda Hovonec, 37, of Wapakoneta, Ohio, pleaded guilty to the murder of Timothy Hovanec in front of a district judge on Tuesday.

Investigators attained dash cam footage from the victim’s car that showed her wrestling him to the floor, before she injected him in the shoulder with M99: an anesthetic used on Rhinos and other zoo animals that is up to 3,000 times the strength of morphine.

The 36-year-old father-of-three, who worked as a US State Department researcher, was returning the couple’s children after they stayed with him during a weekend visit on the evening of April 24, court documents revealed.

Timothy’s job demanded they live in South Africa between 2018 and 2020, in which time Hovonec was engaged in an affair with Saffa Anthony Theodorou. The couple divorced shortly after a return to the US in 2020.

At approximately 7pm, Hovonec and her mother Anita Green were waiting beside the garage outside her residence when the dad pulled into the drive, the court heard.

According to prosecutors, the mom walked up to the car and told her children: “I have a surprise for you inside.”

As Green ushered the children inside, Hovonec leapt on her ex-husband on her driveway while he was unloading the children’s car seats, according to a sentencing brief.

“What the heck are you doing? Did you just assault me?” Timothy could be heard wailing in an audio recording captured by the car’s dash cam that was given to investigators. “Get away from me… get off of me.”

Edging into the camera’s view, Hovanec was filmed yanking her ex-husband’s shirt and wrestling with him as he tried to pick up his cellphone, officials said.

Taking him to the ground, she held the victim by the neck until his body went limp and he lost consciousness prosecutors said.

After plundering his phone and smartwatch, Hovanec switched off the vehicle’s engine and, with it, the dashcam, prosecutors said.

She placed a plastic bag over the victim’s head and body over fear of “fluids secreting” from his remains, according to court documents.

Hovanec revealed to investigators that she injected her ex-partner in the shoulder with M99. She knew that the poison would kill him within minutes, prosecutors said.

The defendant also confessed to where she claimed to have sourced the poison: Theodorou.

The paramour, who had traveled to Ohio at the time of the murder, had not only allegedly supplied the M-99, he admitted to digging a shallow grave a day prior to Timothy’s death.

On April 25, Green drove the pair to the burial site at a farm that the defendant’s grandfather used to own, according to a probable cause affidavit.

Green’s taxiing of Hovonec and Theodorou was “inescapable conclusion that she helped facilitate a murder,” District Judge James Knepp II said.

“Hovanec’s violent and intentional actions were cold-blooded, calculated, and cruel. Her extreme malevolence toward her husband and complete disregard for how his murder would affect their innocent children is incomprehensible and unforgivable,” said US Attorney Rebecca Lutzko for the Northern District of Ohio said in a statement released on Tuesday.

“We know that no amount of time served can bring back a family’s loved one. But our hope is that the victim’s family may find some sense of closure as they painstakingly work to heal from this unimaginable and horrific tragedy.”

Green, the defendant’s mother, pleaded guilty to being an accessory to the crimes committed by Hovanec and Theodorou. She was sentenced to 10 years in prison, followed by two years of supervised release. She was ordered to pay $2,108,559 in restitution.

Hovanec’s lover, Theodorou, is scheduled sentenced on Thursday.

[thecemeterian]

The 2024 Election and the Importance of Voice

Honestly, this feels like a nightmare scenario. Literally, I've had nightmares about this. It's hard to believe that this many people voted for hate and fear and bigotry and violence. My fear is only amplified by some body cam footage I watched a few days ago of what happened on January 6th, 2021. It was like one of those dystopian montages you watch either at the beginning of a movie or at the moment when the protagonist learns why the world is in ruins, except it's real.

In the midst of all the turmoil, terror, and despair that is likely occurring in all of our lives right now, it may not feel like there is any hope. It may feel as though democracy is dead and tyranny and oppression reign supreme, but all is not lost.

As president, he possesses no legislative power except to veto or propose bills to congress, and so I do not see him changing the fact that he has only one term left to serve. He is also old, as old as Biden was when he stepped into office, so he may not even last the whole term!

That being said, I have no idea how much damage might be done by the time he's out. During his first presidency, at least he was surrounded by the somewhat sane to keep him in check, but he's fired all of them and is now surrounded by enablers who might be just as crazy as he is.

It is important for all who truly love democracy to accept this loss with grace, to be better than the mob that stormed our nation's capitol after the 2020 election. This does not mean that we will simply lie down and take whatever comes our way in the upcoming years.

Now, more than ever, it is imperative that we make our voices heard, that we stand up for the kind of society we want to live in, that we stand against violence, injustice, and oppression.

We shall not act with violence. We will not give such satisfaction to oppressors and bigots. We must work to ensure that we are not spreading the fear, hate, and animosity that has caused us so much grief and suffering. When future generations look back at our actions, they must be able to say that we have done no wrong. Martin Luther King Jr. taught us the effectiveness of the peaceful protest during the Civil Rights movement. I am afraid we shall have many reasons to practice the art in the coming years, but we will not give up on our society.

We will fight Bigotry with Acceptance.

We will fight Despair with Hope.

We will fight Grief with Joy.

We will fight Absurdity with Laughter.

We will fight Violence with Peace.

We will fight Silence by making our Voices heard like the thunder rolling down the hills.

We will fight Cruelty with Mercy.

We will fight Greed with Generosity.

We will fight Lies with Truth.

We will fight Hate with Love.

We will fight Shame with Pride.

To everyone who thinks that their voice doesn't matter, believe me, it does! Alone, we are weak, conquerable, easily discarded. Together we can move a nation. I implore you, learn how our nation works. Research important topics, verify information, seek Truth, and when you find it? Share it. Petition, vote, and, perhaps most importantly, listen to the voices of the oppressed. If you don't know how to help or where to find reliable information, find someone who does. If you do, be there for someone who doesn't.

[theculturedmarxist]

Two members of Moms for Liberty, a right-wing activist group, have reported several Florida school librarians to law enforcement. They claimed they had evidence that librarians were distributing "pornography" to minors and requested that law enforcement officers be dispatched. This represents a serious escalation of the tactics deployed by members of Moms for Liberty against school librarians. 

On October 25, Jennifer Tapley, a member of the Santa Rosa County chapter of Moms for Liberty and a candidate for school board, contacted the Santa Rosa County Sheriff's Office. "I've got some evidence a crime was committed," Tapley said in an audio recording of the call obtained by Popular Information through a public records request. "Pornography given to a minor in a school. And I would like to make a report with somebody and turn over the evidence." Tapley made the call from the lobby of the main office of the Santa Rosa County Sheriff's Office in Milton, Florida.

She told the dispatcher that she did not want to provide her name because she was "afraid of people getting mad at me for doing this." Tapley said that she would tell the Deputy Sheriff her name, but she didn't want "any public records with her name on it because then people could look it up." 

In an interview with Popular Information, Tapley said she was "scrolling through Facebook" this summer and saw "a video of a mom reading a book" that was "really disgusting." She later learned that there was a Moms for Liberty chapter in her area addressing the issue and joined the group. As a member of the group, she learned that local schools had "some really shocking pornographic books in our libraries." 

Tapley was accompanied at the Sheriff's Office by Tom Gurski, who is also active in the local Moms for Liberty chapter. Soon, Deputy Sheriff Tyler Mabire and another officer arrived and interviewed the pair. 

"The only reason we are here: A crime is being committed. It's a 3rd-degree felony. And we've got the evidence," Gurski said in a body cam video of the interview obtained by Popular Information. "The governor says this is child pornography. It's a serious crime," Tapley added. "It's just as serious as if I handed a playboy to [my child] right now, right here, in front of you. It's just as serious, according to the law." The video has been edited to protect the identity of a minor:

The "pornography" at issue is actually a popular young adult novel, Storm and Fury, by Jennifer L. Armentrout. The book, which is 512 pages, is mostly about humans and gargoyles fighting demons. The main character of the novel, Trinity, is 18 years old. There are some passages with sexual themes, including a few makeout sessions, and one where the main character almost has sex. In the 2020-21 academic year, the Florida Association of Media in Education (FAME), a professional association of Florida librarians, recommended Storm and Fury on its "Teen Reads" list. FAME says books on the list "engage" teens and "provide a spur to critical thinking." Barnes and Noble recommends the book for readers 14 to 18. It was also recommended for students by the School Library Journal.

Armentrout told Popular Information that it was surprising to learn we are "living in an era where, apparently, some adults find it appropriate to contact the police over a fictional book involving gargoyles." She said Storm and Fury "is very close to my heart, as the main character has the same degenerative eye disease, retinitis pigmentosa, as I do." Armentrout said she wrote the book "to educate people on a little-known disease in a fun, suspenseful, and adventurous way." The purpose of the book, Armentrout said, was not to "incite sexual excitement."  

Tapley told Popular Information that any book that has a "sex scene" is pornography and not "appropriate for minors." She did acknowledge that there may be exceptions for "extreme classics." But the books Moms for Liberty is targeting, Tapley says, are "without significant literary value." 

Florida law, however, only bans distributing a book or other material with sexual content if it is "harmful to minors," a standard established by Supreme Court precedent. Under Florida law, a book is only "harmful to minors" if it  "[p]redominantly appeals to a prurient, shameful, or morbid interest" and is "patently offensive to prevailing standards in the adult community as a whole with respect to what is suitable material or conduct for minors." Storm and Fury, a book that is predominantly about fighting demons, is routinely recommended by adults for high school students. 

Gurski told the officer that Storm and Fury was checked out from Jay High School "by a 17-year-old, which is important because she is a minor." Tapley showed the officers the book, with the offending passages marked with orange sticky notes.

In Santa Rosa County schools, once a book is challenged for sexual content, the policy is to take it out of circulation within five days, pending a review. Tapley alleged, "we have already turned in this book," but the Jay High School librarian did not remove it. That allegation appears to be incorrect. Storm and Fury does not appear on lists of challenged books in Santa Rosa County maintained by the school district and Tapley. 

In addition to the librarian at Jay High School, Tapley points the finger at Ruth Witter, the head librarian for the county. Tapley presents the officers with a printout of Witter's Facebook page and claims it is proof that "she [has been a] member of Santa Rosa County Stop Moms for Liberty since May." She explains that "Moms for Liberty is trying to… get rid of these books" and "fights for parents' rights." Meanwhile, Tapley alleges, Stop Moms for Liberty "are the people who are against Moms for Liberty." 

Tapley claims that, by following the Santa Rosa County Stop Moms for Liberty group, Witter is "fighting us actively." She also connects this to alleged "death threats" against 

Moms for Liberty members, without elaborating. Tapley does not mention that Witter also follows several conservative pages on Facebook, including Fox Nation and a Republican candidate for local office. 

The librarian at Milton High School is also singled out by Tapley for posting in a Facebook group called Emerald Coast SWEEP, a local chapter of the group Red, Wine, and Blue. Tapley describes Red, Wine, and Blue as "a very liberal activist group of people fighting for abortion rights" that opposes the removal of books from public school libraries. Tapley says the Milton librarian is seeking "liberals" to join the school's book review committee, which Tapley claims is "illegal."

Asked if she would like to see librarians criminally charged, Tapley told Popular Information that it "depends on if there's an intent." She said her hope was that the Sheriff would tell the librarians, "you can't do this," and "if you continue to do this, then there would be charges." Tapley added that she "didn't really want to see anybody have their life ruined." 

In an interview, Tapley downplayed her role at the Sheriff's Office, claiming she was not "seeking out any books and trying to go to the police with it or anything." She described her role "as a helper." She only put her name on the report "so that somebody else could be protected." In an email, Tapley said she "had no interactions with the Sheriff’s Office beyond accompanying a citizen there" and "any reporting that states otherwise would be unfactual."

Popular Information has posted the full video from the Santa Rosa Sheriff’s Office on YouTube.

"To see the orchestrated campaign to remove books from schools escalate to a police station is shocking," Kasey Meehan, a Director at PEN America, a non-profit dedicated to free expression, told Popular Information. "Professional librarians apply sensible measures to curate their collections for diverse audiences of readers, and they should not be punished for making knowledge accessible to students that falls well short of the well-established legal standards for obscene materials." Stephana Ferrell of the Florida Freedom to Read Project described the tactics of Moms for Liberty members in Santa Rosa County as an effort to “bully the district into sacrificing access to protected speech.”

Popular Information contacted Mariya Cakins, the chair of Santa Rosa Moms for Liberty, for comment. Cakins said that she would be happy to speak, but the request needed to be routed through the national Moms for Liberty organization. The group never responded to that request. Popular Information was unable to identify reliable contact information for Gurski. 

The efforts of Tapley and Gurski to initiate an investigation by the Santa Rosa County Sheriff's Office appear to be unsuccessful. According to a document obtained through a public records request, the Sheriff's Office quickly referred the report to Daniel Hahn, the director of safety at Santa Rosa County Florida School District. The Santa Rosa County Sheriff's Office then closed the case. 

Gurski, however, is having better luck with other law enforcement agencies. 

Florida police department has open criminal investigation of Florida librarians

"Approximately ten days ago, I had a book in my hand that was issued by the Milton school library, which is not your jurisdiction," Gurski told Deputy Mabire at the Santa Rosa County Sheriff's Office. "I went to the Milton police station. Submitted an affidavit and the evidence of that particular book. And they have that now for investigation." Gurski said he considered the book pornography. 

Tapley says the book reported by Gurski to the Milton police was another young adult novel, Naomi and Ely’s No Kiss List, by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan. The book is a romantic comedy and has some sexual situations and discussions. It also includes LGBTQ characters. It is recommended by Common Sense Media, an independent non-profit that evaluates media for parents, and Publishers Weekly for readers 14 and older. 

In response to a public records request, the Milton Police Department said it could not release any information regarding Gurski's complaint about the book because there is an "open and active investigation pending State Attorney review." 

The Vicki Baggett connection

Tapley told Popular Information that Vicki Baggett, an English teacher in Escambia County, has been "helping us." Baggett, who Popular Information interviewed earlier this year, has challenged hundreds of books in public school libraries, including many that have LGBTQ characters or address racism. Baggett told Popular Information that she challenged When Wilma Rudolph Played Basketball — the inspirational story of a Black woman who overcame racial prejudice to become an Olympic champion — because it would make white students "feel uncomfortable" as "they are being white-shamed.” In a follow-up report, Baggett's current and former students alleged that Baggett openly promoted racist and homophobic beliefs in class. Nevertheless, Baggett has been successful in getting numerous books removed from Escambia public schools. The Escambia school district is now facing a federal lawsuit from a group of authors and First Amendment advocates. 

Tapley described Baggett as "a valiant warrior for the kids, an amazing English teacher, and a wonderful Christian woman." According to Tapley, Baggett has come to Santa Rosa County and "has been helping us see what's in our libraries." Many of the challenges in Santa Rosa County are duplicates of those Baggett submitted in Escambia County. "She's been the catalyst really for a lot of this," Tapley said. "She taught me how to do it." Baggett initially submitted the challenges in Santa Rosa County herself, but those were rejected because she is not a resident. Many of those challenges have been resubmitted with Baggett's name alongside a Santa Rosa County resident. 

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

“OnlyFans takes 20% of whatever creators earn on the platform. The top creators, most of whom are famous women, rake in millions a month. Below them, those in the 0.1%, earn around $100,000 (£80,000) or more every month. The typical creator, though, has 21 subscribers and brings in $151 monthly. A different survey* revealed that, on average, an OnlyFans creator makes about $180 every month. To earn the big bucks, you need to be better than 99% of creators on the platform. An opportunity that the growing number of agencies have begun to recognise, and have come swooping in, proffering the secret to success.”

I could be earning hundreds of pounds a week, apparently. I’ve been spotted, online, for my potential. And, as I wait impatiently for payday, dragging myself through those long days at work where nothing extraordinary happens, it’s tempting. Really tempting. How? I can become one of the OnlyFans 1%. At least, that’s what this agency is telling me. They would manage everything, I’d work less and earn more, and I wouldn’t even need to show my face. Win, win, right? But, as I was about to discover, what these agencies are really doing is less manager, more pimp… They’re selling a lie dressed as ‘the dream’.

One google of OnlyFans and the stories come rolling in. There’s the ‘Florida woman who quit her Chick-fil-A job to become an OnlyFans model and now earns a whopping $14K a week,’ or ‘the mum-of-two who makes £5,000 a month and saved a £60k deposit for a house in just two years.’ All rags-to-riches tales of women who bid adieu to their boring or unfulfilling lives and now make more than burned-out city bankers.

Your parents probably know what OnlyFans is, so extreme is its ubiquity. The UK-based company barrelled into the industry in 2016, offering users the opportunity to monetise their influence and sell exclusive content to their fans. Not all of this content is adult… but it’s largely, now, what the platform is known for. Sex workers, cam girls and adult film stars enjoy the autonomy OnlyFans offers, in an industry where – previously – they had to rely on bigger companies to either cast them, promote them or, in the case of strip clubs, give them a place to work. On OnlyFans, the creator chooses what content they produce and when, working hours that suit on a self-employed basis.

The platform’s popularity peaked during lockdown (something attributed both to traditional venues closing down and more people being pushed into financial hardship). Between 2019 and 2020, the number of registered users rose from 13.5 million to 82.3 million. Now, there are 190 million active users and 2.1 million of those are creators. Between 2020 and 2021, OnlyFans’ revenue increased by 220% – to $4.9bn.

OnlyFans takes 20% of whatever creators earn on the platform. The top creators, most of whom are famous women, rake in millions a month. Below them, those in the 0.1%, earn around $100,000 (£80,000) or more every month. The typical creator, though, has 21 subscribers and brings in $151 monthly. A different survey* revealed that, on average, an OnlyFans creator makes about $180 every month. To earn the big bucks, you need to be better than 99% of creators on the platform. An opportunity that the growing number of agencies have begun to recognise, and have come swooping in, proffering the secret to success.

It was 3am and Pollie† had just finished filming her latest content. She’d been doing what’s known as ‘dick rating’, where fans send her pictures of, well I think you can guess what of, and she delivers them a critique of the picture. But, despite working for hours, she still couldn’t go to bed – she had 30 messages to reply to, from her fans, and each needed special care. She wasn’t in the mood for sexting, but if she slipped up, was snappy or not as ‘fun’ as they thought her to be, then she would lose their support. Bleary-eyed and frazzled, she checked the clock… 5am. She was finally ready to wind down. Her kids would be awake soon and she’d need to do the school run.

Pollie, who’d set up her OnlyFans account in April 2022, was succeeding on the app. She enjoyed it a lot more than her old job in the corporate world, plus it could work around the hours she needed to do since falling sick with an autoimmune disease while pregnant. She was making okay money, but with all the hours she was putting in, it wasn’t worth it. ‘It was extremely lonely,’ the 30-year-old mum says from her home. ‘It had reached the point where I didn’t have the motivation to cook.’ She’d heard that other OnlyFans creators hired people who would do a lot of the accounting and messaging, leaving her with more time to create content. Within a month of starting OnlyFans, she decided that she also needed extra help. She didn’t know then that it would end up costing her a lot more than she ever thought.

Agencies exist to help models manage their productivity, schedule work, help with time management and marketing. In theory, they aren’t any different to an actor, author or influencer hiring a PA or manager. ‘Creators may choose to work with a wide range of third parties, including photographers, videographers, talent managers and agencies, to curate and monetise their content,’ an OnlyFans spokesperson told us, adding that, ‘Any third party that a creator elects to work with does not work on behalf of OnlyFans and is not affiliated with the company in any way.’ There are also plenty of reputable agencies that are a great help to the creators and can take their business to the next level. But then there are the rogue ones. They take many guises, from the ones going after people like me, who don’t have profiles yet, claiming that they can make people hundreds without showing their faces, to those approaching existing OnlyFans creators and promising to elevate their brands and take all the hard work off them.

‘One person doesn’t have enough hours in the day to do OnlyFans and earn good money, unless you’ve got millions of followers on Instagram and are ready to mass DM them,’ says Pollie, who was building her OnlyFans profile and trying to attract a fan base from scratch. ‘If you’re just an average Joe like me, agencies are quite important because they have the strategies and finances to help you out,’ she notes.

The agency told Pollie they would do everything. She logged out of her OnlyFans account so they could post her content and reply to fans. They’d monitor her email inbox and the money made, paying her an allowance each month (40% of the profit, they took 60%) as they took total control of her account. Pollie was new to this, she didn’t know how it usually worked. Plus, they were convincing. Two months passed without them paying her. She was also still doing 90% of the work, as the agency had stopped doing any promotion for her. Pollie, curled up with her cockapoo on her sofa, takes a deep breath as she remembers. ‘I’d spend so many hours just crying, thinking, “What the fuck have I got myself into?”’ Spiralling, she demanded her log-in details. Her blood ran cold. The agency had earned $9,000 from her and had only sent her a meagre cut, not the 40% she thought they agreed. They blamed exchange rates and bank fees. When we spoke to OnlyFans, it confirmed that creator accounts have to be set up by an individual who goes through extensive identification checks before they can upload content, and that all payments are made to creators’ bank accounts, with the name field for all bank accounts uneditable. Pollie claims her agency got around this by setting up a bank account in her name.

I spoke to six OnlyFans creators for this piece, all of whom had experiences with different agencies. However, there were common threads that ran through each of their harrowing stories, with financial abuse looming large. Student Josie†, who started an OnlyFans to help pay her tuition fees, went from earning £1,200 a month to £160 in three months after signing on with an agency that sold her profile to another, without her knowledge. It then locked her out of her account, changing the email and refusing to give her the new password. ‘I was crying all day,’ she recalls. ‘I thought I was going to lose my account.’

Lia†, an ex-OnlyFans model, who also worked as a marketing and talent manager for an agency, describes being in message groups with the agents where they spoke derogatively about the women they managed, including racist remarks. The agents advised each other on control tactics such as blackmailing women who didn’t pay them their cut, by threatening to send all their pictures to family and friends. At one point, one agent said (in messages seen by Cosmopolitan), ‘Sounds like time for a leak of content… revenge porn,’ before a colleague reminded them that they could get into legal trouble for that.

As for the professional marketing strategies and account growth promised? This turned out to be fake followers and likes bought to boost profiles, and ‘the chatters’ (people employed to pretend to be the model, to chat to fans and boost engagement) were mostly friends and family members of the company directors. ‘Only one of them had sales experience,’ says Lia. ‘[The models] were giving away a percentage of their earnings for no reason.’ Meanwhile, agency staff began promising fans in-person meet-ups that, aside from the safety and privacy concerns, is a violation of OnlyFans policy, with their spokesperson telling us that ‘OnlyFans is a site for digital connections, and in-person meetings are strictly against our terms of service. Words such as “meet” are not allowed on the platform and we use AI tools to screen for them. Supported by our AI tools, our team of human moderators review all content uploaded to the platform, including direct messages, and anyone found to be breaching our terms of service faces being banned from the platform.’

Lia screenshotted everything and showed it to a solicitor. They told her she couldn’t take it further because they’d taken themselves off Companies House, a government register of legitimate companies. ‘Every few months, they set up a new business name. They would rack up a lot of debt, and a lot of unhappy clients. But then the clients can’t do anything about it because they’ve now resigned.’

‘No one actually needs a subscription for your pussy…’ I’m chatting on the phone to flame-haired Rebecca Goodwin, who’s an OnlyFans success story. Before joining the platform, she was £15k in debt and feeding her children with food vouchers. Today, she earns between £60,000 and £100,000 a month. But, despite her success, she’s keen for people to know about the hard work that goes into it. ‘People think, “Oh, OnlyFans will save my life.” It’s just not that easy,’ she explains. ‘We’re in a cost-of-living crisis, so you have to put 10 times the amount of work in [to get subscribers].’ You need to be in people’s faces constantly to do well, Goodwin adds.

People message Goodwin all the time asking if they can sell content on OnlyFans without showing their face or having any social media. ‘Less than 10% of it is the actual act of anything explicit. In fact, 90% of the job is constantly being on social media, piquing people’s curiosity so they want to see more,’ she shares. She’s a brand. ‘People remember my name. They know my personality, rather than just someone anonymous on a free porn site. That’s what they pay for.’

Yet, it was exactly this that I was promised. The opportunity to build a fan base without having to show my face, or use my own social media channels. Agents prey on vulnerability. When Goodwin’s page started blowing up five years ago, it all got too much. ‘My anxiety was awful. I thought that having all the money would be an exciting time. But it was just so much more pressure than I could have ever imagined.’ She signed a 12-month contract with an agency, whose advice then led to her losing a bulk of her subscribers and income.

That was a year ago, and the 29-year-old from Chesterfield is in a much better place now. She works without an agency, and puts time aside (8pm to 11pm, six days a week) to answer messages. It’s a lot of work to sext this many people every day, but her fans expect a personal connection. They send pictures of themselves, she sends a video back. She’ll also ask how their day went, and the chat might get deep. Others are witty and playful. It’s very rewarding, she says. Alongside this, she makes three or four movies a month. They are comedic parodies, professionally produced. Her titles include The Little Spermaid, Super Mario Hoes and Lord Of My Ring. Each movie takes two days (seven hours of acting with clothes on, 20 minutes of sex) and costs about £4,000 to make. The bulk of her time is spent promoting the films and her page across social media, which is why her average screen time is 10 hours a day.

On one shoot, she met adult film director Dick Bush. They got on and decided to become business partners. He gets between 15% and 20% of her earnings a month, which amounts to between £15k and £20k. It’s worth every penny to work with one person she trusts rather than an inexperienced team she’s never met, Goodwin says. He helps her with filming and editing, brainstorming ideas for content and finding new work opportunities. He also motivates her for the sex scenes. ‘I’ve got the worst self-confidence in the world. So I have to talk myself into doing sex scenes for days before actually doing it.’

What Goodwin has discovered is her niche. With new creators joining OnlyFans each day, most have to find a way to stand out. The top performers find their USP and perfect it. Astrid Wett is known for also being a boxer. Bonnie Locket uses her knowledge and love of super cars to attract fans. Goodwin is known for her comedic parody fantasy films. ‘Being down to earth and having tits – I soon realised how important it was to stand out from the rest of the competition,’ she notes.

But what if you don’t have a niche? The agencies, it turns out, will find one for you. Pollie, who now has 123k followers on the app, has settled as a ‘curvy football mum’ but she’s also been a nurse, piano teacher, an office worker; whatever an agency (she’s now moved between a few) suggested she try, she did. I was also told by one creator, who preferred not to be named, that she was pressurised into creating content about wanting to sleep with a stepson, something she was opposed to doing as it would make her own stepson feel uncomfortable. But she was bullied into it and eventually gave in. The platform may have been built to put the power back in the hands of sex workers, but it seems the more business has boomed, the more outsiders – often men – have tried to exploit the women at its core.

‘How I made $100k a month in 2023,’ the video proclaims. Only this time, it’s men, not women, being sold a dream on OnlyFans. YouTube is full of hacks on how to earn six figures a month running an agency. Like the Bitcoin-hungry crypto bros before them, the OnlyFans boom provided a chance to cash in. Men see how supposedly easy it is to make money and are lured in to set up their own creator-management agencies. I’ve been told of men telling their partners or friends they could make loads of money if they let them manage their OnlyFans account.

But, as the platform (and cash within it) grows, what can be done to stop this from happening? An OnlyFans spokesperson told us, ‘OnlyFans provides creators with a platform to monetise their content and engage with their fan base. Our relationship is with the content creators and OnlyFans is not affiliated with and does not endorse any third party or agency.’ This stance exists within a wider context of murky UK legislation. OnlyFans itself is legal (with restrictions on certain types of content), as is working with agencies. However, laws for in-person sex work state that working with a third party is illegal. This results in those who feel taken advantage of by their agencies feeling afraid to go to the police, not to mention the long-running mistrust that sex workers have for law enforcement.

Transparency could help break this cycle. The more that creators speak out about exploitation, the more sex workers know what to look out for. But perhaps we also need to break our dated perceptions of what OnlyFans is and how it functions. Society sends the message that when a woman is using her image to make money, then she mustn’t know what she’s doing. That it’s work that doesn’t require a brain, only a body. But, as every creator I spoke to showed, making it on OnlyFans is a business. And today, it’s about being a business owner in a highly saturated market. Like all new companies, you’ll need a strong plan, a USP and the energy and drive to hustle, hard. And like any other business, the dream doesn’t really exist. Overnight success stories are rarely what they seem and, where there’s money, there’s always a host of snake oil salesmen trying to cash in. Third party OnlyFans agencies are no different, but due to the law and a society that shames sex work, forcing it underground, they have the opportunity to exploit and thrive. 

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

^story referenced (I’m on my phone sorry 😭)

Yes! There was something actually there! I imagined it was some magical mechanical/metal worm kinda thing, and the scan that Steph mentions only read for biological entities, not man-made. So Tim’s guess in the story is right.

The metal thing though, Damian could not only feel but had been there long enough that it was decomposing/rusting/whatever and basically poisoning Damian from the inside out, thus was affecting his mental/cognitive state, along with his paranoia of things being inserted into his body that I explore more in another story in this series.

It probably could have been a chest burster eventually! But more just ate at its victims from the inside out.

Steph and Tim unfortunately don’t get to go help take down who did this as they’re put on Damian medical watch in the cave. They watch through mask cams though as Bruce and Dick track and beat the shit out of the wannabe who released the artificial parasites, and track down any remaining ones throughout Gotham.

[mariacallous]

Beaten, blinded by pepper spray, corralled like animals, and indiscriminately arrested for marching against police violence and racial injustice. Such was the fate hundreds of people suffered at the hands of New York Police Department (NYPD) officers in late May and early June of 2020, as thousands of people across the United States protested the murder of George Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer.

Three years later, the City of New York has agreed to pay $9,950 each to some 1,380 protesters as part of a settlement of a class action lawsuit. Costing taxpayers more than $13 million, it’s the largest amount paid to protesters in US history, according to the protesters' legal team.

Lawyers secured the settlement with the aid of a little-known tool that helped them quickly categorize and analyze terabytes of video footage from police body cams, helicopter surveillance, and social media. “We had multiple weeks of protests. We had protests spanning the city of New York. We had thousands of arrests,” says David Rankin, a partner at the law firm Beldock, Levine & Hoffman who was part of the protesters’ legal team. “We had tens of thousands of hours of body cam footage, we had text messages, we had emails, we had just an absolute truckload of data to get through.”

The path through all this data was carved by Codec, a video categorization tool developed by the civil liberties-focused design agency SITU Research. Launched in June 2022, the tool is proving essential in legal battles around the world, where hours of disparate video footage can reveal orchestrated, state-backed violence against protesters.

Clip by Clip

Dozens of videos shared with WIRED show how the legal team built their case. Using this data, which also included geospatial information, time stamps, and the category of the alleged misconduct, we were able to build a map that allows anyone to watch the police incidents that were central to the lawsuit. Each dot represents an incident the legal team characterized as police misconduct. Of the 72 videos the legal team flagged as most pertinent to their case, the map includes 47 videos recorded by police body cams or surveillance cameras. The locations of the remaining 25 videos, which appear to have been taken from social media and other sources, are also pinpointed on the map. In total, the legal team analyzed more than 6,300 videos. 

Some of the videos on the map contain graphic violence, and viewer discretion is advised. Videos will autoplay with the sound on.

Among the videos we reviewed, an NYPD officer can be seen running down the sidewalk while pepper-spraying a person who’s standing against a building, entirely out of the officer’s way. In another video, an officer hits a protester with a car door while driving down the street. Another video shows a group of officers interlocking arms as one of them says, “Just like we fucking practiced.” The officers then charge a group of protesters before singling out a person on the sidewalk and beating them with batons. Taken together, the footage demonstrates widespread, systematic police misconduct during protests that spanned from May 28 to June 4, 2020, across multiple neighborhoods in New York City, according to the lawsuit.

While looting and vandalism took place in several neighborhoods during the protests, the demonstrations were largely peaceful. The defendants in the lawsuit have not admitted wrongdoing as part of the settlement, and city attorneys deny an orchestrated effort to violate protesters’ rights. Reached for comment, the NYPD referred WIRED to the city’s Law Department, which has not yet responded to a request for comment.

Remy Green, a partner at Cohen & Green and a member of the protesters’ legal team, says the use of police body cameras, which have been touted as a step in the right direction for civil liberties, has become “a kind of band-aid solution to police brutality.” A single video can only reveal so much, Green says, and police departments can use this limitation to obfuscate what really happened. Protests that are met with an extreme police response require a zoomed-out vantage point, which is what Codec allowed the legal team to create. “It gives you a much more comprehensive look at the activities that occurred,” says Green.

Hard Pivot

The idea of using Codec in the lawsuit came from a related case settled earlier this year. Here, Human Rights Watch worked with SITU Research to analyze video footage of protests in the Mott Haven neighborhood of the Bronx, one of New York City’s five boroughs. Their work proved that the NYPD used an anti-protest tactic called “kettling”—trapping a group of people so they can’t escape—just prior to a government-mandated curfew, thus ensuring that they were in violation of the order. In March, a lawsuit against the city over the NYPD’s use of kettling ended in a $21,500 payout to each of more than 300 Mott Haven protesters, which is estimated to be the highest per-person settlement for a mass arrest in US history. The NYPD said in a statement following the settlement that it has since “re-envisioned” its “policies and training for policing large-scale demonstrations.”

Having seen the forensic video investigation SITU’s work on the Mott Haven protests produced, Rankin asked for help conducting a similar investigation. But this time it wouldn’t focus on police conduct during a single protest in one neighborhood, but rather protests across New York City.

Now an open source tool that’s free to use, Codec was first built for internal use only, according to Brad Samuels, a founding partner of SITU who oversees its research division. Codec categorizes video files using a range of criteria, including the location where a video was taken and the time and date it was recorded. Analysts can add their own parameters, such as whether a video shows police use of pepper spray, which enables them to more easily pinpoint clips that are relevant to an investigation.

Early on, the SITU team focused on international incidents, such as the 2014 Maidan Revolution in Ukraine and a 2019 uprising in Iraq in which security forces fired military-grade tear gas canisters directly at protesters’ heads. After the murder of George Floyd in May 2020, the US-based SITU team “pivoted hard” to investigate domestic incidents. The agency’s focus on the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests that followed resulted in investigations into police misconduct in Portland, Oregon, and Charlotte, North Carolina. Investigations in Mott Haven and across New York City are the latest to join that list.

The legal team behind the New York City-wide lawsuit, which operated through the National Lawyers Guild, a civil rights-focused nonprofit, obtained thousands of videos from the NYPD, the city, and social media feeds, most of which were unpublished until this week. Using Codec, analysts pinpointed four broad categories of what the legal team characterized as police misconduct: improper arrests, improper use of pepper spray, improper baton strikes, and excessive force.

While Codec greatly enhanced the legal team’s ability to analyze thousands of videos, it still took “a lot of human hours” to make the data usable and identify specific moments that were useful for their case, Rankin says. This included identifying the location of specific police interactions, categorizing the alleged misconduct, and adding accurate time stamps—all of which require ample hours of human work to complete, even with Codec’s help.

In future cases that require high-volume video analysis, however, that job may become easier. Samuels says the SITU team is currently working to add layers of machine learning and computer vision to Codec. He hopes that by next year the system can be tasked with, for example, detecting batons in footage—something that is currently done manually.

Widespread protests like those that took place in 2020 don’t often happen in the US. And Rankin points out that cases like the one settled this week are rare. But Green says they’re not nearly rare enough. “Our role as civil rights attorneys, I like to think, is to attempt to put ourselves out of a job,” Green says. “This settlement marks a high-water mark in terms of financial accountability, but I don’t see myself losing my job anytime soon.”