#fuck lebanon county

[lebanonpacorruption]

FAT FAKE CHIEF PUBLIC DEFENDER BRIAN DEIDERICK BECOMES A PROSECUTOR

It’s like he’s admitted he was terrible at being a defense attorney. If anyone has met the prick, you know how he viewed EVERYONE has guilty. He’s been acting like a prosecutor for a decade and now he is one.

So what happens to his public defender extra curricular activities?

Doesn’t really matter, because pretty sure he was aiming to be Klines replacement on the bench but Tylwalk said Naaaaaa… you’re too bad at attorneying bra

Hess watch out for that butthole! Heard Deiderick was up Tanners once upon a time 😂😂

[determinate-negation]

??? Why are people obsessed with spreading misinformation. The federal government IS engaging with and supporting local communities in North Carolina: https://www.fema.gov/press-release/20240929/president-joseph-r-biden-jr-approves-major-disaster-declaration-north

That includes funding for “temporary housing and home repairs, low-cost loans to cover uninsured property losses and other programs to help individuals and business owners recover from the effects of the disaster.” As well as “Federal funding is also available to state, tribal and eligible local governments and certain private nonprofit organizations on a cost-sharing basis for emergency work in Alexander, Alleghany, Ashe, Avery, Buncombe, Burke, Caldwell, Catawba, Clay, Cleveland, Gaston, Haywood, Henderson, Jackson, Lincoln, Macon, Madison, McDowell, Mitchell, Polk, Rutherford, Transylvania, Watauga, Wilkes and Yancey counties and the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians.

Federal funding is also available on a cost-sharing basis for hazard mitigation measures statewide.”

Like you can feel how you feel about the admin. But please don’t lie. It’s fucking annoying and there’s enough of that on the right.

not lying, heres a video of him saying theyve given them all they can. that is all the post said.

this is a katrina level disaster, its days later and theyre finally starting to move on it after hundreds of people are already dead, towns are completely wiped off the map, theres going to be billions of dollars in damages and sorry but the relief is in the long term futile unless they start drastically restructuring shit to survive climate change because this is going to keep happening! reports of people fighting over gas and food, people stranded for days and dying as the buildings theyre on collapse. at the exact same time the us just announced additional billions of dollars of funding for israel to keep bombing lebanon, gaza, yemen, and iran.

8.7 billion for israeli colonialism and genocide this week, 3.4 billion for israel a month before that. i cant find a number yet for how much theyll be putting towards hurricane relief. hopefully a lot but just because the us government says theyre doing something isnt actually a reason to believe its being implemented well. the historical record would actually indicate the opposite.

the changes that the us should be making to prevent mass death and destruction from imminent effects of climate change are massive and would require a major federal economic and infrastructure program as well as quick action on the energy transition. other countries are actually doing this to at least some extent. the us isnt. oil production hit a record high under biden while the us puts insane tariffs on chinese clean energy tech. be fucking for real

[redshift-starfire]

Getting my thoughts on the election out since I've been seeing some squabbling on my dash and I wanna make a futile attempt at clearing shit up that probably won't change anyone's mind

I'm gonna get the president shit out of the way first. Just vote for the genocide woman if you live in a swing state. We (leftists) all hate her, we are all aware that she won't stop the suffering going on in Gaza or Lebanon or anywhere else and she's not going to do much good here. I don't like voting against my morals or best interest, but that was never an option for us. Our voting system is first-past-the-post, winner takes all, so if we don't ensure that the genocidal cop woman with some good policy doesn't get into that office, then we WILL get genocidal old orange billionaire "man" who is hellbent on making everything infinitely worse. It's much easier to bully the former into ending the genocide than the latter. The latter will get you shot by the national guard. Vote strategically then bully relentlessly. We need to get our shit together if we want things to change for the better.

But more importantly:

THERE'S MORE ON THE BALLOT THAN JUST THE PRESIDENT

Do not fucking forget about Congress and how much of a hand they play in all this. God fucking forbid the GOP get another trifecta, if they do it's fucking over, we can't let that happen again. Conservatives are going out in droves to vote early and we need to beat that. A dem majority (especially a supermajority) would make it infinitely easier for the progressive caucus to get their bills through. And that would make many things possible, including better border policy and a ceasefire. This is the best outcome we can hope to have.

VOTE FUCKING LOCAL

I've seen people talking a lot about conservative maniacs in office. THIS IS WHERE THEY ARE. GET. THEM. OUT. This election has State and Federal Senate and House seats up for grabs, Governors, Mayors, County Officials, Sheriffs. All people who have a much greater force on your personal material life than whoever's ass gets sat at that one chair in that one old ass building in DC. This is the one place in American politics where Socialist and Green party candidates are even anywhere close to viable right now and it's how we can get them to be more viable in the future. Do research and make your voice heard in your local area and conditions will improve no matter who the president is. Especially if you show up for primaries and runoffs. There's an independent journalist who makes leftist voting guides for my area and that's what I used to figure out who best to vote for (much more useful for primaries).

DO OTHER SHIT TOO

This is where you can do whatever really, so long as it helps. Poll watch to make sure the GOP doesn't try and completely derail this one. Cure ballots to make sure they're counted. Protest. Scream at people. Join a militia. Strike. Plan the revolution. Boycott. Jack off on Ronald Reagan's grave and post an image of the result on every social media site with the caption: "I'm doing my part!" Whatever. Go fucking wild. The most important thing is that you bully the shit out of whoever is in office until they do something. We by no means should only be doing one thing to shape this society into one we like. Reform/revolution is a false dichotomy. If we do both at the same time, one of them will work.

Do not let them know peace.

[doberbutts]

moving to central pa from kentucky was a trip bc my mom's friends would be like "oh, we're bringing chicken pot pie" and my family had the misfortune of anticipating a pot pie, not off brand chicken and dumpling soup. it's not bad, but we still bicker with them bc where's the pie? strips of pie dough don't count as pie. fucking lancaster and lebanon county, hate this place

Hey hey hey them's fightin words ok Amish Pot Pie is a delicious, hearty meal that's a staple for Lancaster's poor with savory egg noodles and enough broth to fill your belly. 😤

Like many PA Dutch words it's called "pot pie" in English because the actual word for it is "bott boi" which sounds a lot like "pot pie" if you don't know PA Dutch. It's just unfortunate that it shares that name with the more pie-shaped dish, because the first time I ordered pot pie at a resturant outside of PA I was in for quite a surprise.

Anyway yes 👎👎👎 Lancaster 👎👎👎 in general but don't you diss my delicious cult foods

[grrrlg3rmz]

I don’t believe in “lesser than two evils” unless it’s Kamala/biden/hillary against trump. If it were any other election it wouldn’t even matter but it feels like the people who didn’t vote are either uneducated or very….. privileged..

Like everyone knows that those three may have not been the best candidates but oh my god are yall really tryna play around when a CONVICTED RAPIST has a chance to run for president????? Are y’all that out of touch???

I feel we have less hope for abortion, immigrants, Palestine, Ukraine, Sudan, Lebanon, and Congo. These things are already in limbo. I don’t think it’s fear mongering to think about how gay marriage and anything that has to do with with trans rights could also be ripped from us. It’s good not to dwell on it, but we have to prepare.

Worst thing that could happen is he leaves it up to the states. That sounds terrible for people living in the south and other rural areas. I already deal with racism and bigotry living in a red county.

And right, we shouldn’t have to rely on an election or presidents, but that’s not something we can focus on right now. I don’t stand for shaming people on not voting/voting third party, but it’s Donald fucking trump please snap out of it. Look where we are now. We only have to wait this out and watch everything happen.

[221btardisimpalawithloki]

what fucking crack do you smoke if you think its a multiple-hour drive between lebanon and hastings. its less than an hour even if youre a weenie who goes the speed limit

[thoughtslikeaminefield]

Summary: Sam intervenes. Part two of a three-part series about roomies to lovers.

Characters: AU Dean Winchester x female reader, Sam Winchester

Warnings/tags in this part: two F-bombs, recollection of sexual activity

Words in this part: 1,900

Notes: Shout out to @indecisive30something for their prompt.

And, as always, many thanks and all my love to my Ride Or Die @brrose-apothecary

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Since that afternoon, when Dean did make her come until they both passed out on the couch, sweaty and satisfied, wrapped in a quilt her grandmother made 30 years before, neither of them were able to look at the other straight without blushing, grinning, or both.

Yet, much like last time, they didn’t talk about it afterward, and the longer they put it off, the more awkward it became.

They were also spending an inordinate amount of time trying to act normal around Sam and Eileen; instead, they came across like they were trying to cover up a murder or something.

“Dude, what is with you?” Sam asks four days post-incident.

“What?!?” Dean stage-whispers, his gaze darting wildly around Eileen’s backyard, where several friends have donned swimwear and are sipping their beverages of choice until it lands on her, and his skin flushes.

“That. That’s what,” Sam responds, flipping the burgers and brats, feeling mildly amused and significantly annoyed by his brother’s utter cluelessness regarding their roommate. “Stop acting like you guys didn’t hook up again. You can’t sit still or keep your mouth shut for three seconds when she's in the room.”

Dean feels a flush of a different kind as he glares at his younger brother. “Horseshit. I’m zen as fuck.”

He lets his gaze float back to the object of his desire, glistening in the sun as she bobs in the pool with their friends.

Sam snorts and arches a sidelong brow. “This morning at brunch, you read the ingredients from every condiment bottle on the table before getting up for a newspaper and asking old man Fergus about his cats.”

“So?" Dean gripes without taking his eyes off her. "I was being neighborly.”

“You hate that guy and you’re allergic to cats.”

“What’s your point, Sam?” Dean turns to face his brother again, not ready to have the conversation but knowing full-well that it's happening anyway.

“I already said," Sam answers with a casual shrug. "You’re doing a shit job of concealing that you two got something going on again as if anyone cares.”

Dean drags his eyes back to catch a glimpse of her adjusting her ball cap over her shaded eyes. Even with her sunglasses on, the light reflecting from the pool is harsh and she squints, wrinkling her nose and clucking her tongue before laughing at something Meg has said.

Dean can't help but grin and revel in the butterflies in his stomach.

“In fact," Sam continues, "if you asked anyone in this county or the next one over? They’d be relieved you two are finally doing something about it.”

“She’s still married, Sammy,” Dean replies quietly, flicking his gaze back to his brother. “And you know that sonuvabitch’d make her life Hell if he thought he could — I ain’t given’ him any ammo.”

Sam is thoughtful for a moment before continuing more gently.

“At least tell me you aren’t holding out on her or yourself just because you aren’t ready to make it public yet,” Sam asks. “I’m not expecting you to take out an ad in The Lebanon Times, but I hope you aren’t just brushing it under the rug like last time...”

Dean clears his throat, shifts his weight, and downs the rest of his beer before tossing it in the recycling bin. “You want another one?” he asks Sam in an attempt to change the subject.

“Dean. Come on, man, don’t do this to yourself,” Sam lowers his voice, trying to snag his brother’s attention. “Don’t do it to her.”

Dean shakes his head. “Man, I’m not the only one in this situation; the road goes both ways, she could talk to me, too.”

Sam screws his eyebrows and stands up straight, abandoning the soft approach since his brother is clearly a moron. “What are you, three? That’s the oldest, weakest excuse for not taking initiative.”

Dean sighs, glances back toward the pool, and lets the memories of her wash over him — her husky voice, demanding more; her soft, strong hands, gripping him so tight; her scent like fresh-baked lemon meringue pie, sweet and heady and thick; and the way she falls apart so fucking easily for him every time.

“Alright, alright,” Dean holds up a hand in surrender as he backs away from his brother, headed to the cooler. “I’ll... come up with somethin'- say something. You want another one, or what?”

He doesn’t wait for Sam’s affirmative reply before turning and striding toward the cooler under the awning of the side patio. His own sunglasses are seated firmly on the upper bridge of his nose, but he fidgets with them anyway when the allure of her throaty laughter glides through the heat of the afternoon sun. Dean groans as he flips the lid of the cooler and reaches in for two bottles.

Just as he stands and turns back toward the group, she’s pushing up out of the water. He watches the rivulets of water sparkle across her bronzed, sculpted shoulders and down her shapely arms to her wrists. She twists her narrow waist and slides her perfectly heavy, peach of an ass to sit on the edge of the pool.

Her body looks like those statues of Venus but full of life and heat, breathing and hungry, sleek and strong. Her back is a work of art and he’s suddenly so hard in his trunks, he has to figure out how to walk back to the grill without coming in his pants.

AC/DC blares from the sound system, and she laughs again, head thrown back, baring her throat and kicking water in an arc aimed at Meg.

“Oh, my god, Meg, remember that trashy dance routine we did in high school to AC/DC?”

Meg splashes back, cackling. “We thought we were so hot!”

They each dissolve into giggles, and Dean can’t take his eyes off of her. He’s openly staring when she suddenly turns her head in his direction.

Dean pops each bottle top off with his ring and drops them in the recycling. She gasps on her laughter and bites her lip to stop from choking because that off-the-cuff move of his is just one example of how good he is with his hands.

Memories from mere days before, his hands up her shorts, holding her open wide and down as he mouthed at her cunt through the thin cotton, making her squirm and whimper. He worked her up from a puddle of vibrating sludge to a shining goddess over that three hours on the living room couch. And then he put her to bed and tucked her in.

Meg wades closer to her in the pool, away from Cas and Gabe, and wraps a hand around her ankle. “You OK there?” Meg asks soothing a hand up and down her friend’s calf.

“Yeah,” she breathes, answering Meg’s concern and trying not to dwell on the memories of Dean's hands on her skin.

Meg nods, sliding her shades down to the tip of her nose to gaze over the rim at her best friend of 20 years. “Nothing since Sunday?”

She told Meg about the couch incident. She gushed about it. Meg told her Monday night that she should go crawl into bed with Dean without a word, but that just didn't seem right.

She shakes her head in answer and drops her eyes to the rippling water below, remembering how she woke up alone in her bed Sunday night at 8:30 with an ache between her thighs like she hadn’t known in years. There was a sweating bottle of water and two Excedrin on her nightstand and her childhood bear was tucked in beside her.

“It’s OK, it was just a friend helping a friend out kinda thing,” she replies to Meg’s frown with a shrug. What goes unsaid hangs in the air, just like last time.

Meg cocks a brow and smirks in the Winchesters' direction. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

He’s watching them closely, the heat of his stare, radiating through his aviators. He licks his bottom lip into his mouth before lazily pulling it out from under his teeth as he taps his ring against the bottleneck in time with AC/DC.

"That's not how just friends look at each other," Meg asserts, as her friend swoons at the vision of Dean. There's something almost separately sentient about Dean’s anatomy. He fills any room, warms any space, quells any fears or insecurity just by showing up.

Meg's heart skips a beat when her best friend sighs and pushes to stand. For years, she's watched them dance around each other, and she wants them both to be happy.

“Have fun,” Meg sings from the pool, as her friend slips her feet into her flip flops and her cover-up over her head before making her way to the grill area.

The corner of Dean’s mouth curves with a silent smirk so maddening that only he’s capable of pulling it off without being a smug bastard.

“Hey, girl, you hungry?” Sam asks, not yet recognizing the swell of heat and things unsaid between his brother and her.

She can’t control the way her chest vibrates and her exhale shakes, and Dean’s cocksure smile splits into a bright, wide grin.

“Hungry, princess?” Dean asks, lifting his beer bottle to his mouth to tongue the opening before wrapping his lips around it.

“Not for that,” she replies, nodding toward the grill.

Sam does a wide-eyed double-take before chuckling. “Well, Dean, maybe you should see if you can find something she is hungry for.” He tries to hide a grin.

Dean bobs his head before tossing what’s left of his beer into the bin then offering her his elbow. “Shall we?”

She laughs in that way that makes Dean's toes curl then loops her hand through the crook of his arm. “Lead the way.”

As they saunter toward the door to Eileen’s kitchen, Dean looks down at her and asks, “you got everything?”

She blinks, feeling a little confused and a lot flustered. “Like what?”

“Phone, keys, your utmost certainty that you want this to happen,” Dean replies, his shoulders stiffening and his jaw tense.

He slides the glass door open and guides her inside the air-conditioned house, then closes the door behind them with a soft thud.

She turns to face him and draws a deep breath. His bright, warm eyes are filled with hope and anticipation.

“I don’t really know what’s on the menu, but you make me feel good and safe. I want that.”

Dean smiles and walks into her, enveloping her in his arms. “OK,” he murmurs against her damp ball cap before dragging his lips down and along her jaw. “Lemme take you home.”

She sighs and melts in his embrace. “OK.”

Part Three

If you like this, please let me know or buy me a coffee!

Dean Winchester Masterlist | SPN Masterlist | All Fic Masterlist

[hotshotsxyz]

Stay Awhile

Happy holidays to @not-the-same-url-i-used-to-be, for the @destielsecretsanta2020 gift exchange! I hope you like this mess of pure found family fluff!

(Read it on AO3)

Family dinners are kind of a big deal. It's hard to get everyone together these days, so when every single one of them RSVP's yes, it's huge. And they're running late.

"Dammit," Dean says, glancing at the traffic map Cas has pulled up on his phone. They're on I-80 just outside of Cheyenne, stuck in stop-and-go traffic that doesn't seem like it'll be letting up any time soon. They're coming from San Francisco, or thereabouts, and on their third day of driving.

Once upon a time, Dean would've just pushed through, making the 22-hour drive on 3 hours of sleep, coffee and a little bit of hope. These days, though, he and Cas like to take it slow, to stop and smell the roses as it were.

That's what they do now. Two years down the line, and they don't hunt unless some other hunter desperately needs their help. Instead, for the first time in Dean's life, they've been travelling just for the hell of it. Most recently they'd been in wine country, because Cas was curious and Dean had forgotten how to say no a long time ago. They have at least 16 different bottles in the trunk, all of which they're planning on sharing, if they ever make it to Lebanon.

"Sam's gonna kill us," Dean groans.

Cas pats him on the thigh. "He'll kill you," he replies. "I said we should've left Saturday, but you wanted to stick around for the county fair."

"It was twelve bucks and they had a pie eating competition!"

"Yes, dear," Cas says, fake exasperation lacing his tone.

"Fuck you," Dean replies, but he can't stop the laugh that bubbles out from his chest.

Cas shakes his head with a smile. "There's an exit coming up in half a mile, let's see if we can't find a better way home."

Dean grins. "Anything you say, sweetheart."

All said and done, they're only forty-five minutes late. Sam's still going to bitch, but frankly Dean considers it a miracle of navigation and ever-so-slightly reckless driving.

"Grab the wine and I'll get our bags out of the trunk," Dean says.

The sounds of laughter and plates clinking floats out as soon as they open the door to the bunker, and Dean can feel a grin settling on his face already as he pauses to take it all in. He loves this, more than just about anything he's ever had. Cas nudges his shoulder and nods towards the open door.

"Don't you think we've kept them waiting long enough already?"

"Yeah," Dean says, and they head in.

"It's about time!" Sam calls when he spot's them. He stands and strides over to them.

Dean drops his and Cas's bags in preparation for the bear hug he knows he's going to get. Ever since he and Cas started heading out on their own, Sam acts like he hasn’t seen them in years.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean says, accepting the embrace and clapping Sam on the back. "You should've seen the traffic."

"We all know it wasn't traffic that kept you in California an extra day," Sam teases.

Dean shoots a look at Cas. Traitor, he thinks. Cas's grin widens, and for a moment it's almost like he can hear Dean's thoughts again. But no, Cas just knows him that well.

"Alright," Jodie says, stepping up behind Sam, "give the rest of us a turn."

Dean and Cas pass out hugs like party favors, making sure to spend a moment with everyone in the room. Cas lingers for a few minutes with Jack, and while he does Dean steps into the kitchen to make them both a plate of food.

It's been too damn long.

After a few minutes, Cas joins him in the kitchen and presses a short kiss against the shell of his ear.

"It's good to see everyone," Cas murmurs, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist.

Dean turns in the embrace and deposits a lingering kiss against Cas's lips. "It is," he agrees.

There's something that Dean has been turning over in his head for a few weeks, and he figures now is as good a time as any to finally spit it out. "What if we stayed put for a while?" He searches Cas's face for any sign of distress, but the soft smile he's been wearing all night remains.

"Here in the bunker?" Cas asks, tilting his head in that oh so familiar way.

"We could," Dean says.

"But?"

"But…" And this is the part he's nervous about. There's a lot they've hashed out over the years, and Dean knows that Cas wants to be with him. He knows that he's happy as a human, knows that they're happy together. But there's something different about asking him for this. "I was thinking we could get a house. Something that's just ours. Still nearby, so we could be close to everybody. What do you think?" Dean bites his lip.

Cas's smile expands into a broad grin. "I would like nothing more than to 'settle down' with you, Dean Winchester."

"Awesome," Dean sighs and kisses Cas again.

They rejoin the party after that and are pulled quickly in opposite directions. Donna tells Dean about her (very, very hot) new boyfriend while Cas is regaled with Claire and Kaia's latest hunting adventure. He finds Charlie and Stevie talking to Patience about her college classes (and finds out that she's doing psychic consulting out of her dorm room). Garth and Alex are discussing the challenges of treating monsters and hunters in underground clinics. Bobby is talking to Jack about metaphysics (and damn, when did Bobby have time to do so much reading on the subject?), and Sam and Eileen are bent over some witch-y looking book with Rowena.

His family, Dean thinks. The hunters, the werewolves, the Queen of Hell, God himself, a couple college kids, and an ex-angel. It doesn't get much better than this.

The party goes late into the night, and when it's over everyone crashes at the bunker. These days, it functions as a stopover for hunters from all around the country. Sam and Eileen are slowly expanding their reach, giving hunters everywhere access to the enormous cache of knowledge contained within the bunker's walls. It feels so full of life, like it was always meant to be. They all sleep easy.  

Dean wakes up smiling. It's not like this everyday, but it's happening more all the time. Something about sleeping in Cas's arms, waking up in them, it keeps the nightmares at bay. Most of them, anyway.

Dean brushes a lock of hair away from Cas's face. It's gotten longer recently and it's nice. He places a soft kiss on Cas's brow.

"I'm gonna make breakfast," he says softly. "Want to help?"

Cas groans and presses his face into Dean's shoulder. "Too early," he mumbles.

Dean chuckles. "Alright, sweetheart," he says. He rolls onto his back, carefully dislodging Cas, then gets up.

Without opening his eyes, Cas whines and makes grabby hands at Dean. Dean catches one of Cas's hands in his own. "I'll make coffee," he promises, then presses a kiss into Cas's knuckles.

"Promise?" Cas says.

"Anything for you, sunshine," Dean replies.

To his surprise, Dean isn't alone when he walks into the kitchen. Claire sits at the table, eyes closed and a steaming mug held in both hands.

"Hey kid," Dean says, clearing his throat.

Claire hums in acknowledgement, takes a sip of her coffee, then opens her eyes. "You two look happy," she says, apropos of nothing.

"I- uh, yeah. We are," Dean replies.

"M'glad," Claire says. "You both deserve it."

"We're thinking about getting a house," Dean confides in her. "Haven't even told Sam yet."

She smiles at that. "I'm happy for you," she says.

"You know, if you ever wanted to get out of the life-"

"Nah, me and Kaia have everything we need. I wouldn't say no to an invitation to visit, though."

Dean grins. "You'll be first on our list."

They fall into comfortable silence for several minutes, as Dean pulls out enough ingredients to feed an army. Hunters are a hungry bunch, after all.

"Claire?" Dean says as he cracks eggs into a bowl.

"Yeah?"

"You seem happy, too."

There's a long pause. Finally, she says, "I am." Dean turns to see her smiling into her coffee

Just then, Sam and Eileen walk into the kitchen, followed quickly by Garth and Bess. Before long most of the bunker has arrived, and Dean gets back to cooking the feast. Behind him, someone else fires up the toaster, and soon he's handing off plate after plate of bacon, eggs and toast.

Finally, once nearly everyone has food, Cas walks in looking just as rumpled as he always does in the morning. Dean meets him with a mug of coffee and a sweet kiss. "Morning, sunshine," he murmurs against his lips.

"Good morning, Dean," Cas replies, voice still rough with sleep.

And yeah, Dean thinks, he could get used to this.

[the-final-sif]

I want to add further information:

A random tumblr user is not qualified to "vet" fundraisers. If you do not personally know them, even if they are a popular blog or "well-known" they are equally capable of being a scammer, not knowing how to properly vet a fundraiser, being scammed themselves, etc. Even if you do personally know them, they can very easily be scammed.

Anyone that you do not follow or know, who randomly sends you a message asking for donations to a fundraiser is a scammer/bot. 100%, without doubt. This is a well known scam bot behavior on tumblr, and it has been here for ages. The old version of it would be "my sick cat". They just changed the message sent.

"I couldn't find the image after reverse searching it" is not in any way meaningful for vetting scams. There are a million ways to get unique photos/videos of children in bad circumstances, including paying very small amounts for them, or as explained by the link above, human trafficking.

People's accounts can and do also get hacked/stolen/etc and then used to link to fake scams. It's terrifyingly common.

Yes, it is gross as fuck for scammers to exploit horrific situations, it is also incredibly common. Fires, mass shootings, wars, etc. It happens for all of them.

GOFUNDME ONLY ALLOWS WITHDRAWALS FROM CERTAIN COUNTRIES, IF A PERSON DOES NOT HAVE A BANK ACCOUNT IN ONE OF THOSE COUNTRIES, THEY WILL NOT BE ABLE TO GET FUNDS. ANYONE WHO IS ORGANIZING A FUNDRAISER OUTSIDE OF THOSE COUNTRIES IS EITHER A SCAMMER OR WILL HAVE TO REFUND DONATIONS.

You'll notice that Egypt, Gaza, Israel, Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, etc are all not on this list. The majority of gofundmes I've seen, largely from people claiming to be one of those locations, are either scams or will be forcibly refunded since according to their own story they are not in a place where they could withdraw the money being sent.

Falling for scams does hurt people, actually

TW: Human trafficking, SA, torture, discussion of scam farms

I see a whole bunch of people arguing that they would rather risk giving to a scammer than ignore someone's gofundme. I also see people saying things like "I can't believe some sick people are profiteering off genocide" and like, me neither, but I feel like you guys really don't understand who actually runs these kinds of scams and what they are.

Scams of noticeable scale-- like scam asks being sent from hundreds of accounts to every user on Tumblr!-- are typically related to organised crime in poor countries, not Susan from Milwaukee who wants a new coat and has no scruples. People get trafficked by gangs to scam farms in Asia and Africa where they're worked to the bone and tortured trying to get idiots in wealthy countries to part with their money. Genocide profiteering is pretty much the least evil thing these people do.

Here's a UN article on it. Obvious warnings for content related to human trafficking and SA.

When you donate to a scammer, you fund these organisations and give them a reason to exist. It's possible some of the fundraisers are legit. I honestly find it unlikely given I'm not seeing any from any other countries where urgent fundraisers would seem to have great reason to exist but which haven't captured the same level of attention on Tumblr-- the number of Sudanese, Congolese, Ukrainian, Burmese or Uyghur fundraisers in my DMs is a fat 0. In any case, there are safer ways to help.

If you want to help (which is great!) you don't have to take the risk of paying for human trafficking. Donate to legitimate charities which have the resources to safely and effectively ensure the money and help is getting to the right people. Funding human trafficking rings in Myanmar is not a good risk to be taking while trying to help.

[nix-that-rad-lass]

I am fucking livid

I went through my watch later on YouTube and watched some documentaries- including one about the explosion in Beirut.

My parents watched it with me.

Halfway through, my father has me stop it. He says: “oh my god. Look at these people. They look like Americans. This looks like it could have happened in America. That’s terrible”

I look at him. “It not being in America does not erase the atrocity, the cruelty, or the terror.”

How far removed is the American psyche from other countries? That many people here can not fathom pain that happens elsewhere unless they imagine it effecting them, or their family?

It’s disgusting and sad and terrifying how little empathy there is for other human beings.

My father also said: “that looks like a city! Like a first world city! Lebanon is always portrayed as some shitass third world country!”

My only response: “you can find places in any country that look like first and third world. You can go to the outskirts of Cullman County, Alabama, and it will look shittier than a small town in x y or z country- and vice versa. The difference is here, some 90% of people are living in a first world setting. In too many other places, there’s one or two big cities, oftentimes with rotten underbellies, and the rest of the state or country is left to rot.

In no way is that fucking ok. And I am so fucking angry that this keeps getting glossed over. I am so angry that so many people are being dehumanized and erased and killed because fucking selfish ass corporate cashcockers want to line their pockets at the expense of actual human lives. I am so fucking angry that every week there is a new disaster and every week they are glossed over. Every week people suffer for no reason and I am fucking SICK OF IT.

[lebanonpacorruption]

RIP

Heroin withdraw death at Lebanon County Correctional Facility in 2018. Tori Herr.

Most prisons provide Soboxin to safely ween a Heroin addiction away for incarceration.

Ala Methadone.

Lebanon County Correctional Facility disregards “safety” at the President Judge/Brain Surgeon General that all they need is Cold Turkey and A Home Plan out to Jubilee.

Jubilee won’t even prescribe Prozac.

But Jubilee hires the inmates on work release to work in their sweat shop/thrift store.

If Jesus Christ came back for a day and saw this, he’d send the entirety of Lebanon County Pennsylvania to the 9th Circle of Hell

#fuckLCCF

[kick-a-long]

It’s interesting. Russia is one of the few empires left that insists on expanding without any cover or hybrid terms for ownership.

Russia is different because it wants to expand over land in a continuous empire rather than the far more common way currently, which is by sea and by economic or cultural imperialism.

I’m not totally against economic or cultural expansion in every aspect. Done ethically and consistently, it keeps the peace and lifts people out of poverty when applied correctly with mandatory standards of living to necessitate trade. Culture also flows both ways. There are negative examples but it doesn’t have the body count that Russia’s old school invasion and total control empire does.

Russia is all land and army, laughable navy. Russia historically has a supremacy problem. They believe they are the most powerful country (somehow both European but also not European. Asian but also not Asian.) if you look at their history in the Middle East, they never want to own that land like they do eastern (and probably western tbh) European countries.

That’s weird right? They spend shit loads of money but never enough to occupy and maintain a Russian claim on Iran or Syria or Lebanon like they are trying to do In Ukraine. I understand that they use the Middle East to wage proxy wars against the USA because of oil but they never take over these places.

America is fundamentally a naval power. Our armies get a little screwed when we try to attack land locked or even mostly land mass counties without a nearby country with an army to wing man us. Russia likes to fight directly on its boarders but mind game and enshittify any country it can’t physically walk to.

I think that’s why Russia has the mystique it does. Russia is never in too much danger in the same way a doctor who refuses to operate on anyone who’s sick has a better success rate than a doctor who takes all comers. America does stuff all over the globe and has a mixed bag of success (which you don’t hear too much about) and losses. Russia ALSO does shit all over the globe, really fucked up toxic shit, but the only stuff it claims it does is when it directly takes over its neighbors. (I could talk all day about the weird relationship it has with china but I digress.)

Russia is completely mired in its own past: they want a past idea of empire, they revere a past idea of art while not creating an environment for anything new and challenging, they want the world to go back to when Russia was a dominant culture and power. Frankly, ever since they got rid of it Russia wants to go back to the social order of tzars and slaves (serfs.)

America wants the economy to permanently grow, which means conditions must improve and more markets need to open (impossible in the long term and shaky when the depressions or slow downs happen) and Russia wants everything to go back in time.

The people who teach Russia lit are usually already enamored with its past, so maybe people critical but knowable of Russian culture should start to analyze it? The books won’t go away, so maybe it’s better to understand where the blind spots are.

Historically, some of the biggest Russian opponents to domestic repressions are imperialists. Solzhenitsyn, most famously, is, on the one hand, bravely fighting the GULAG, and on the other hand - a vile imperialist with a sense of fascism. These aren't new phenomena, in many ways. Somehow one feels that [moving away from imperialism] is unlikely in Russia, because it goes so deep. This is just the latest Russian invasion of Ukraine, this is not just one war, this has been going on for centuries. Russian imperialism is embedded in Russian humour, Russian literature, codes of thinking. It's not about statements. It's not just about policies. When Pushkin writes, I don't know, "Кавказ подо мною" ("The Caucasus lies below me"), one of his famous poems... the amount of imperialist psychology that goes into saying that - that goes very, very deep. So until those much, much deeper sort of deep cultural roots of Russian imperialism, racism and oppression are addressed, nothing is changed. So let's think what we have agency over, in a way. [...] we can change the way Russia is perceived globally and in the West. Because this idea that Russia is a great power that has the right to a sphere of influence and that has the right to suppress others because it's great - that sits very deep in people's heads across the world. We can start working on that. So why don't we start working on that? Let's get people in my world - Britain, America - to re-read the Russian classics and understand how much imperialism and oppression of others there's there. Let's start de-mystifying this idea of "the Russian mystic soul" and really start rooting it to very specific histories of violence and oppression. Let's start changing the way Russia is perceived, so it's no longer seen as inevitable and so vast and huge that you have to drop on your knees in front of it, which still sits in people's heads. That means changing the way the universities overfocus on Russia studies and completely silence the voices of Ukrainians, Georgians, Kazakhs... There's so much we can do that will make people's perceptions of Russia rooted in reality. And they will help gain self-confidence to say, "Stop, we're not dependent on you".

Peter Pomerantsev

[pallasperilous]

Twenty Questions

Summary: Michael is AWOL with Dean, so Sam drives while Cas rides shotgun. They fill silence with a light inquiry into the nature of Enochian pronouns and their relationship – or lack thereof – to human vessels’ gender.  ...it’s more fun than it sounds.

Word Count: 1,221 Rating: Gen (there’s a single swear) Pairings: Sam & Castiel (are good nerdfriends)

WARNINGS: brief references to social prejudice against queer identities. Angel lore nonsense. References to past harm done to Baby’s clutch. 

Complete story in post, or on AO3.

---

They’ve been creeping down the same stretch of interstate for five hours. They long ago run out of podcasts and Dean’s more bearable cassettes and weird lore chit-chat and dumb car games – Sam has learned the hard way that 20 Questions with Cas is actually either 3 Questions or Infinity Questions.

They’re finally in the same county as their turn-off, but they’re still at least three hours out from Lebanon and they’ve officially run out of silence, too. Castiel is pretty good at keeping quiet when he’s in the back, at least over long hauls – Sam would sometimes catch Dean glancing into the rearview just to check that he hadn’t poofed out at some point.

Having Cas ride shotgun is something else. Just having another body there pokes Sam in the brain, demands comment. The other body is usually Dean, and Dean sucks at silence. If it’s not talking, it’s music. If it’s not music, he’ll starts fucking humming or tapping or whistling. Dean is nature, abhorring a vacuum.

Only Dean’s not here. So it turns out that silence is currently a very painful conversation.

“I’ve been wondering about something,” Sam says.

Castiel has his eyes closed, but they snap open immediately. “Oh?”

Sam adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. “So…the other angels. They call you he, right?”

“They normally call me Castiel.”

Sam shoots him A Look, and is rewarded with a microscopic smile. “No, I mean – you all have…consistent pronouns. That don’t change based on your vessel. From what I can tell.”

Cas shakes his head. “Not usually, no. You have to understand, Sam – most angels have never occupied a vessel, nor would they ever expect to. It’s a specialized field.” He shifts down a bit on the bench, folds his arms.

“So you do all have…some kind of…essential gender? In your true forms?”

Castiel hums non-committally. “The pronouns you hear us use in English are an approximation of an Enochian form of address. One that has nothing to do with reproductive or social roles.”

“What’s it describe, then? Rank? Age?”

“Rotational axis.”

Sam can’t help it: he laughs. “What?” The unbidden mental image is of Castiel strapped on one of those vomitous centrifugal wheels they used to velcro kids into at Space Camp.

Cas sighs, although it sounds more embarrassed than aggrieved, as if Sam were asking after the origin of an off-color family in-joke. “When angels traverse the common areas of Heaven, our wings manifest as rotating bands of energy. There are two possible planes – axes – of rotation. The pronouns refer to which axis that angel’s wings occupy.”

“So, what…it’s not he and she, it’s more like… righty and lefty?”

Cas snorts. “I’d never thought of it that way, but the analogy is apt."

“Are there any, um. Ambidextrous angels?” Sam squints and kicks on the turn signal as they crawl up towards the nearest eastbound exit. There’s a lava flow of red brakelights ahead of them.

“A few. ”

“Anybody we know?”

“You know me.”

Sam hesitates, glances over at Castiel. He's got his elbow up on the door, chin braced on the splayed fingers of his far hand. Everything he’s wearing looks like it needs ironing, including his face. “Oh yeah?" Sam manages, lamely.

"Mm," Cas replies, which is frankly about as much as Sam deserves.

"Is that...what's that like?"

A forest green Outback two lanes over is suddenly seized by the need to exit at 126 A and Sam has to stomp on the brakes to avoid getting side-swiped. By the time Sam has brought the car back up to speed, Cas still hasn't answered.

"I'm sorry," Sam says. "Kinda none of my business." His knee is starting to ache from kicking out the clutch. They could’ve switched drivers a few hours back when it was bumper-to-bumper. Sam officially chalks it up to his pride, but really it would be admitting that Dean will be gone long enough that Sam will have time to replace the clutch after Cas fucking incinerates it.

Cas lowers his arm. "I'm not offended, Sam. I was considering my answer."

Sam shrugs; “I know angel stuff is a sensitive subject. Didn't want you to feel interrogated or anything. I'm just, you know. Curious."

"Yes, I've noticed that about you." There's a thin smile in Castiel's voice. "It was...it is...largely unimportant. I would usually adopt the same manner as the angel I was interacting with. It makes it easier to coordinate our movements. Since the majority of angels are of the axial group referred to with masculine English pronouns, I'm usually considered," and here he deploys air-quotes, Jesus Christ, if that isn't a throwback –"one of the boys."

Sam frowns, squints against the reflection off the back window of a church minivan. "I think that'd bother me."

"Why? It's simply practical. It describes the greater part of my behavior, at any rate."

“I dunno, it’s still…reductive, right? I mean, which way would you–” Sam winces a bit in anticipation at how dumb this is going to sound –“rotate, if you were alone?"

Cas, as usual, takes the ridiculous in stride. ”I truly don't have a preference. Each has its tactical strengths and shortcomings. The ability to alternate between the two is an advantage in battle, of course, and it grants me access to a broader array of potentially suitable vessels."

Cas turns his face away, as if he's checking out the blind spot, or maybe his own reflection in the side mirror. "It's part of why I was chosen to retrieve Dean in Hell, and then to interact with him after his resurrection."

They finally slip off the interstate and onto the four-lane state highway, a slim river cutting through an old growth forest of gas station signs and fast food logos. They could be literally anywhere in North America, and Sam feels his shoulders relax. Anywhere In North America is Sam's hometown.

Cas sighs. “You must be hungry by now. You should pull over."

"Nah, I'm okay. I'd rather get back to the Bunker before dark.”

There’s a pause which Cas somehow manages to imbue with maternal concern. "Sam. You do need to eat."

"We have food at home."

"Not enough."

"Cas, seriously. I’m fine.”

“I can tell that you've lost weight."

"Yeah, well. Probably because I don’t have Dean shoving garbage in my face every five hours.”

Sam feels the resulting silence as an actual, physical tension in his chest.

“I’ll stop somewhere when we’re over the state line,” he adds. Cas makes a little noise of consent.

Castiel turns his face forward again, drops his arm into his lap.  "It does make some in the Host uneasy. The dual axis,” he clarifies, as if the ranks of Heaven might possibly have an opinion on the particulars of where Sam gets his next chicken sandwich. “They think it suggests a deceptive or indecisive nature."

They hit their first stoplight, and Sam looks over at him. “You're telling me there’s an angel equivalent of biphobia."

"You are," Castiel says dryly, "a fount of damning analogies today, Sam Winchester."

“Wow. That’s, uh. That’s…fucked up? Not sure why I’m surprised, though. As above, so below, I guess.”

“I’ve come to see the relationship between Heaven and Earth as a lateral one,” Cas answers. Then he smiles.

“But that’s just me.”

[cinemavariety]

2019 Oscar Nominees

Best Picture “Black Panther” “BlacKkKlansman” “Bohemian Rhapsody” “The Favourite” “Green Book” “Roma” “A Star Is Born” “Vice”

Best Director Spike Lee (“BlacKkKlansman”) Pawel Pawlikowski (“Cold War”) Yorgos Lanthimos (“The Favourite”) Alfonso Cuaron (“Roma”) Adam McKay (“Vice”)

Best Actor Christian Bale (“Vice”) Rami Malek (“Bohemian Rhapsody” Bradley Cooper (“A Star Is Born”) Willem Dafoe (“At Eternity’s Gate”) Viggo Mortensen (“Green Book”)

Best Actress Yalitza Aparicio (“Roma”) Glenn Close (“The Wife”) Olivia Colman (“The Favourite”) Lady Gaga (“A Star Is Born”) Melissa McCarthy (“Can You Ever Forgive Me?”)

Supporting Actor Mahershala Ali (“Green Book”) Richard E. Grant (“Can You Ever Forgive Me?”) Sam Elliott (“A Star Is Born”) Sam Rockwell (“Vice”) Adam Driver (“BlacKkKlansman”)

Supporting Actress Regina King (“If Beale Street Could Talk”) Amy Adams (“Vice”) Marina De Tavira (“Roma”) Rachel Weisz (“The Favourite”) Emma Stone (“The Favourite”)

Adapted Screenplay “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” “BlacKkKlansman” “Can You Ever Forgive Me?” “If Beale Street Could Talk” “A Star Is Born”

Best Original Screenplay “The Favourite” “First Reformed” “Green Book” “Roma” “Vice”

Animated Feature “Incredibles 2” “Isle of Dogs” “Mirai” “Ralph Breaks the Internet” “Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse

Foreign Language Film “Capernaum” (Lebanon) “Cold War” (Poland) “Never Look Away” (Germany) “Roma” (Mexico) “Shoplifters” (Japan)

Best Documentary “Free Solo” “Hale County This Morning This Evening” “Minding the Gap” “Of Fathers and Sons” “RBG”

Best Cinematography “Cold War” “The Favourite” “Never Look Away” “Roma” “A Star Is Born”

Best Costume Design “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” “Black Panther” “Mary Poppins Returns” “The Favourite” “Mary Queen of Scots”

Film Editing “BlacKkklansman” “Bohemian Rhapsody” “The Favourite” “Green Book” “Vice”

Makeup and Hairstyling “Border” “Mary Queen of Scots” “Vice”

Original Score “Black Panther” “BlacKkKlansman” “If Beale Street Could Talk” “Isle of Dogs” “Mary Poppins Returns”

Original Song “All the Stars” (“Black Panther”) “I’ll Fight” (“RBG”) “The Place Where Lost Things Go” (“Mary Poppins Returns”) “Shallow” (“A Star Is Born”) “When a Cowboy Trades His Spurs for Wings” (“The Ballad of Buster Scruggs”

Production Design “Black Panther” “The Favourite” “First Man” “Mary Poppins Returns” “Roma”

Sound Editing “Black Panther” “Bohemian Rhapsody” “First Man” “A Quiet Place” “Roma”

Sound Mixing “Black Panther” “A Star Is Born” “Bohemian Rhapsody” “Roma” “First Man”

Visual Effects “Avengers: Infinity War” “Christopher Robin” “First Man” “Ready Player One” “Solo: A Star Wars Story”

Documentary (Short Subject) “Black Sheep” “End Game” “Lifeboat” “A Night at the Garden” “Period. End of Sentence.”

Short Film (Animated) “Animal Behaviour” “Bao” “Late Afternoon” “One Small Step” “Weekends”

Short Film (Live Action) “Detainment” “Skin” “Marguerite” “Fauve” “Mother”

Okay, time for me to rant. I honestly believe 2018 was one of the best years for cinema in as long as I can remember. That being said, this years nominees is seriously disappointing - one of the worst list of nominations I have ever seen in the history of the Academy.

- First of all, why is Vice getting so many nominations? I have yet to see it, so I will reserve my full judgment. However, the film was panned by almost every critic so I am a little confused as to why it is being so recognized.

- Toni Colette deserved the nomination for her powerhouse performance in Hereditary. I don’t care if it is a horror film. She literally out-performed every single actress who was nominated this year by a long shot.

- Black Panther being nominated for Best Picture is the biggest joke I have ever heard. Just like last year with Get Out, it seems that the Academy is just trying to appease to POC and SJWs. The film itself is just mediocre in general, since when are super hero films deserving of a Best Picture nom?

- If Beale Street Could Talk is much more deserving of a Best Picture nom compared to anything else on the list. It was a step up in quality compared to Moonlight and I am really surprised that it was almost completely snubbed this year.

- Johann Johanson’s score for Mandy was unbelievable, and the Academy should have paid tribute to the genius composer’s memory by giving it the nomination that it so very deserved.

- Lastly, Annihilation should have been included for the best visual effects category. That film had some beautiful CGI that blew my mind.

That all being said, fuck the Academy. I could care less about this popularity contest.

[mrabh]

Man...the pack movin slow, my features is trash. I’m jus tryna make it to the crib by the weekend. Fuck off ma back!!!!!! (at Lebanon County, Pennsylvania) https://www.instagram.com/p/BqUyU0wFsP3/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=vu488i0oa4u6

[alwaysscreechingbasement]

To quote a Facebook friend: “ "I live in Lebanon County, PA very near York County. On my road there are MANY Trump flags hanging in yards and porches, there are Trump signs in lawns, and occasionally throughout the county you will see the Impeach Biden or Fuck Biden signs. The area between Pittsburgh and Philly is Trump country and in this area its the worst. I was always afraid of putting any political signs or flags in my yard for fear if retaliation. I’m a pansexual, an atheist, and a liberal democrat. I’m a triple threat to these ppl. I’ve been discriminated in the past for being an atheist by landlords in a HUD subsidized apartment. I’ve been in a bar where idiots accused me of having a dick between my legs because they were too stupid to know the difference between pansexual and transgender. If anyone came to my home asking the questions this article claims, I do believe I would go full on crazy on their ass. I’m done with this shit." ”