#i hate corporations more than the next guy but they do. still have to make money. to Function

[girlwiththegreenhat]

tell me you've never had to use skype without telling me you've never had to use skype: you complain about discord

[i2ycat]

two wrongs don’t make one right

pairing lee heeseung x fem!reader synopsis mistakes always happen, whether you mean to make them or not. but it’s not a question of ‘do you like heeseung?’ anymore, it’s more so: ‘why do you like heeseung?’. or in which, two wrongs just don’t make one right genre college!au, slight fluff, angst, established relationship word count 3k+ warnings cursing, crying, toxic relationship between heeseung and reader, implications of a professor x student relationship, heeseung is implied to have possibly cheated, reader cheats w sunghoon, everyone is of age, bitchy & manipulative characters, reader is insecure, small mention of smoking weed, lmk if i missed anything else lyn speaking it’s been 2 months since i last posted anything oh my…. erm! here’s a little fic before i disappear again lol <//3 i don’t condone anything that happens in this fic or any of their decisions!!!! main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

The weekend had rolled by faster than you could blink. One second, you’re rotting away in your room and the next, you’re hopping on one foot in front of your mirror, hastily getting ready for the day because you’re running 30 minutes late to your 10am coding class. You’re usually the type to wake up earlier than your alarm, but you were staying up way later than you usually would’ve the night before— staying up late to talk to your boyfriend of 7 months, Lee Heeseung.

Known to be the academy’s most influential guy, Lee Heeseung was, and still is, quite the character. Simply calling him influential would be a grave understatement though, because he descended from a family of powerful politicians and businessmen, even having the biggest corporation in all of South Korea— Lee Tech— as part of his familial pedigree.

It’s no secret that he has the entire world at his fingertips, and at any given moment, he could burn it if he wanted to.

But like how everything else in this world is unfair, Lee Heeseung wasn’t just disgustingly rich, he also inherited his mother’s celebrity looks— evident in his sharp features and overly charming personality. He has girls constantly eyeing him left and right, up and down, even when you’re around.

You went into this relationship knowing full well the certain costs it had to your own happiness and well-being. In the 7 months you’ve been seeing each other, you’ve never felt so insecure in your entire life. And despite his constant reassurances, you know that he couldn’t even begin to imagine half of the battlefield you were facing.

No matter how much you try to deny it, you were subconsciously fighting for his attention against people who were born to be at the same status as he is— in terms of wealth, power, and looks. You always hated being born into a grassroots-level family, but you knew that being salty about your birth-given circumstances would change absolutely nothing. So you worked hard as fuck to be able to get into such a prestigious university. You threw the entirety of your youth away to be able to be the first in your family to go to college, and here you are, barely hanging onto your scholarship because of some boy you met at a party almost half a year earlier. 

They’re only admirers, he said. It was just you and him, he said. You just needed to trust him, he said, but that’s something easier said than done, especially for you.

“Running late again?” The security guard monotonously inquires. He’s seen this exact scene about a thousand times and more with other students before you, so he’s chopping the late slip and handing it back to you like clockwork, but this time with a small smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. It was as if he had a good day but not good enough to warrant the toiling of doing such a challenging task.

Not that it mattered to you anyways.

You ducked your head in an informal ‘thank you’ before hurriedly leaving the stale office and into the hallways.

The hallways always seemed unending whenever you were running late, the rows of windows you ran past would multiply tenfold and the clock’s hands would run faster than it usually would— it felt as if time was warping everything within its reach.

Finally, the running reached its stop. You bent on your knees to catch your breath, the late slip crumpling in between your fingers in the process.

One.

Two.

You counted.

There was no reason to panic. Just walk in, hand the slip and sit your ass down. The visual in your head was clear and it somewhat helped to calm down your nerves. So with one last deep breath, you turn the brass handle and walk in.

You’re so damn dramatic.

The doors creaking reverberates in the small auditorium, easily catching everyone’s attention. You gulp down the lump in your throat as you watch your professor pass you a look of disapproval. It made your heart drop, because you were his best student and you hate disappointing people who expect great things from you. Your let your gaze angle towards the carpeted floors, making your way to the seat closest to the door.

When you feel as if you’ve disappeared into your seat, it was as if you could breathe again. You were finally away from the spotlight and people’s unnervingly curious eyes ceased trailing your every move. You should really start sleeping earlier or you’d have to get used to this.

“Hey,” Erin, your seatmate, whispers. Her voice tried to be as discreet as it could in a whisper… it didn’t really work. The professor gave her a stern stare as a form of warning, though you could tell it had an entirely different undertone, even from a mile away. It left a bad taste in your mouth, having to bear witness to such unprofessional exchanges of looks in an academic setting of all places. Erin, who bites her lip, scribbles whatever she was going to say to you on a torn piece of paper.

“Wanna know a secret?” It read with two boxes just right underneath it: yes or no. You look at her with a dumbfounded look plastered all over your face. You knew she was childish to a certain extent, but was she really that childish? Nevertheless, you tick the box on the left and send it back to her.

Cause you know, curiosity killed the cat.

You should’ve seen the conniving smirk plastered on her lips but you were too focused on your thoughts to notice anything else around you. She scribbles once more then folds it, dropping it into your hands with the hastily written warning facing you: “read it when you get home. preferably alone lol ;)”.

Then, class is dismissed.

You watch her get up from her seat and blend in with everybody else rushing out of the room, not missing the heavy glance she passes at the professor. You didn’t even want to stay any longer to see what happened next, so you started haphazardly shoving things into your bag instead, remembering to pocket the small note into the depths of your jacket.

When you leave the room, Lee Heeseung is already standing there, in all his lazy-fitted glory— messy bed hair hiding under a hood, donning the black hoodie you both bought as a couple’s set for valentines last week and the black sweatpants you bought for him to match.

“Hello, beautiful.” He coos, engulfing you in a tight one-armed hug. It gave you the opportunity to take in his woody yet elegant-smelling perfume, the same Jo Malone one he wore everyday.

Your heart swelled in its place, appreciating how, without fail, Heeseung would wait for you outside your classes whenever he could, even if they ended really late— late enough that he should be at home resting, but instead, he would spend that time waiting for you like the good boyfriend he is.

“Hey,” you smile into his chest. “Ugh, I woke up late again today thanks to a certain someone.”

“Wonder who that is? Maybe I should give them a word or two about keeping my princess up so late.” He pulls you from his chest to cup your face, coaxing you to fall deeper with that sweet smile of his. It never fails to make you feel like you’re the only girl in his world, like he’s got your back no matter what.

It was dangerous for such a smile to have the ability to make you forget about all your problems, even ones pertaining to him.

“You’re such a dork,” you roll your eyes at him as you push him away.

“At least I’m your dork, so naturally… it cancels out.” A boyish grin spreads across his face so innocently that you can’t help but press a kiss on his nose, immediately prompting him to blush a crimson red at your sudden display of affection. “What was that for?”

“You looked cute,” you shrug.

At this, Heeseung turns an impossibly darker shade of red. “You can’t just say things like that so casually and expect me to be okay.” The way he attempts to cover the blush in his face behind his hands makes you laugh, completely and utterly endeared by him.

“I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll give you a heads up, yeah?”

“You’re so mean.” He pouts.

When you got yourself entangled with the Lee Heeseung all those months ago, you didn’t think that he would have such a boyish and cute side to him. His public persona had always been this untouchable, charismatic guy who could get anything he wanted with a snap of his finger, so you could imagine the whiplash you experienced when the first time you ever kissed him, he blushed so deeply you thought he was drunk.

It made you feel special, being the only one to have ever brought out this side of him, like you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Yeah, but you can’t ever bring yourself to hate me.”

“That… is very true, I’m afraid.” Heeseung sighs, catching your hand in his. “I’m kinda hungry, right now. Sushi?”

“Sure.”

—

Over the course of your entire life, there’ve only been a handful of times where you’ve been betrayed by people you trusted: first when you were twelve, being wrongly accused of having cheated on a test by your then best friend; second when you were the only one to have been thrown under the bus by people you thought were your close group of friends for smoking weed in your highschool’s bathroom cubicle; and third when you found out that Heeseung had been with Erin during the one-week break in your relationship.

The note passed to you by Erin from earlier in the month stays ripped into pieces in the palm of your hand. You’d forgotten all about it until a few hours ago, and you wished it had stayed that way. But you know by now that things never go your way.

You and Heeseung were on break for about a week, citing that you were not in the mental headspace to be dealing with a relationship at that moment in time because of your slipping grades, and he understandably obliged, even kissing your forehead goodbye as you left his apartment.

Erin’s written confession, if you could even call it that, echoes in your mind like a blaring alarm.

from girlie to girlie, your boyfriend came onto me while you guys were on your little break. must say, your boyfriend is talented at making people cry ;).

All you needed was a week to heal and sort your shit out before you went back into his arms, and he couldn’t even wait that long?

You felt sick to your stomach and you wanted nothing more than to scream your aching heart away, to be left with nothing more than a void. At least then, you would no longer feel the hurt and betrayal Heeseung inflicted upon you with his actions, and the months of torment you’d endured just to seem worthy to stay by his side.

Did he even ever truly love you like he said he did?

The more you dwell on these thoughts, the more you could feel yourself physically slipping into a state of mental numbness as you stayed motionless on your spot on the carpeted floor.

It wouldn’t be until a few more hours later that Heeseung would enter your dorm, tired as ever from his basketball practice. It was routine for him to crash at your dorm on Tuesdays and Fridays—whenever he had basketball practices— because it was more convenient for him to get to his 9am class the next day from your in-campus dorm, compared to his condo that was 20 minutes away. Adding that you gave him the energy he needed for the days ahead, but now you’re contemplating whether that part was even true or not.

“Sweetheart,” he calls out to you from the entrance. “I’ve got to tell you about what happened to Jay at practice today-” he cuts himself short as he spots your leaning figure, head tucked into your knees, surrounded by torn pieces of paper.

“Y/n?” He quickly runs to your side.

“Seungie,” you meekly whisper as you lift your head, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes finally coming into clear view.

“Did something happen? What happened?” His hands make quick work to caress your face, tucking stray pieces of hair behind your ears and wiping tears away with his thumb.

Even after knowing what he had allegedly done behind your back, you couldn’t help but feel your heart pounding. This was the sweet, caring Heeseung you knew and loved. And so the thought that Erin could’ve been lying to you, flitters across your mind and nestles itself there.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” Your voice sounds hoarse and quiet, yet the silent pleading rings deafeningly in your ears. You felt so pathetic crying in your living room about a boy who might’ve technically cheated on you, then finding yourself putty in his hands the moment he shows you the version of truth you’re familiar with.

Why are making up excuses for his behaviour?

Gosh, your roommate would kill you if she knew how much of a loser you’ve become in Heeseung’s presence.

“Of course not, baby,” he pulls you into an embrace. “There’s nothing I could ever lie to you about.” Did this ease your trust issues in any way? No. But it did assure you that Erin was still nothing but a serial liar, wanting nothing more than to see other people’s relationships fall apart for her own selfish entertainment… you think.

You hum into Heeseung’s tweed pullover.

It was always like this. You don’t know how many times you’ve gone through the same thing, and you don’t know how many more times you can go through without fully losing your sanity. But you can’t seem to find it in yourself to pull away, no matter how exhausted your heart and soul becomes.

—

“Can’t believe you stayed with him, even after knowing what he did behind your back.” Erin sneers from beside you, clearly amused by your course of actions these past few weeks.

“Whatever I do is none of your business,” you bite back through your teeth. You’ve never liked Erin, but even more so after the stunt she did that almost cost you your entire relationship with Heeseung. You should’ve known that she never had good intentions to begin with, constantly lying through her teeth. “I know you lied about it.”

She raises an eyebrow at this, “You think I’m lying? Oh baby, you’re really so fucking gullible.” Erin could practically see the cogs turning in your brain, if the furrowing of your brows were anything to go by. “I’m saying that Heeseung has you completely under his thumb, and you’re dumb enough to believe anything and everything he says,” she plays with her pen, swirling it around her finger as she eyes you. “It’s whatever though, Heeseung likes good girls anyways.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I think we both know very well.” She smirks, tapping the pen on her temple once then twice, before shifting in her seat back towards the front of the lecture hall.

Just what was her fucking deal?

It leaves you with more questions than answers, as you watch her diligently jot down notes from beside you. After today, you were for sure going to switch seats because there was just no fucking way you could survive the rest of the year this way.

—

You don’t know how you ended up here. The first minute you were being dumped by Heeseung, and the next you’re waking up with a raging hangover in his best friend's bed.

Heeseung technically didn’t dump you, telling you that he wanted a break the same you did all those months before. And you technically didn't end up in his best friend’s bed by complete choice. You were drunk out of your mind at a party last night, one that your roommate had dragged you to after seeing you in your depressed state for the past week. But no matter the excuse you try to conjure, it still doesn’t excuse the fact that you cheated on your boyfriend.

Your heart beats sporadically at the sight of Sunghoon’s bare back facing you, not because you’re flustered but because you’re instantly hit with the gravity of your own drunken choices.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

With heavy feet, you stumble out of his bed and start navigating through the mess of discarded clothes, and soon after, Sunghoon eventually stirs awake from the ruckus you were unintentionally causing in his shared dorm room. “Y/n?” He groggily calls out to you.

Fuck.

It didn’t take Sunghoon very long to figure out why the fuck you were in his room half-naked, piecing together the clues that lay around the expanse of his dorm. He clearly didn’t need to be a genius like Einstein to figure out that you and him had a drunken one-night stand. You—Heeseung’s girlfriend—and him—Heeseung’s best friend—had spent the night together. Intimately.

Right around the three-second mark, the same level of anxiety sank into his stomach. 

Fuck, indeed.

“I made a mistake.” Your voice trembled, tears starting to blur your vision as hot panic courses through you.

“Hey, we were both drunk,” Sunghoon says, sitting up at the sight of you still half-dressed and starting to break down at the foot of his bed. “Heeseung doesn’t have to know about this. We both made a mistake, and don’t blame yourself because you weren’t the only one, okay?”

“But, fuck, it doesn’t change the fact that I cheated on my boyfriend. What the fuck was I thinking?” Your fingers fly to tousle with your hair, pulling at the roots to try and ease the pounding in your head.

You weren’t any better than all the people you were disgusted by, seeing as you’ve stopped as low. Memories from last night flash through your mind, as if to haunt you; the party, the flashing lights, the drinks, the kissing, the skin against skin. You felt so fucking sick to your stomach.

“We didn’t mean to sleep with each other. We were just drunk.” Sunghoon reasons, but no amount of gaslighting could change what’s already been done.

You were either going to live with this aching thorn by your side forever, or own up to your mistakes like a normal human being with a moral compass. With how deep you’ve fallen for Heeseung, you couldn’t bear losing him, yet both options entailed losing him one way or another.

It’s best not knowing what could potentially hurt, right?

Right.

© i2ycat 2024

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 2/18/2025

much like phil, i feel like i cannot quite ever get physically comfy this week. something is always not quite right.

listening: god save the queens by vienna vienna

reading: love's harvest by peggy j herring

watching: cinderella

playing: pokemon

making: return of the baby blanket

listening

im going to start out a little bit mean and say that this self-described glimmer rock song, God Save The Queens by Vienna Vienna, really shone in the ten-second social media clips i saw of its live version. the actual studio version sucks so much. and even the full version of the live version, i want it to me slightly different but in a way i cannot articulate. i am excited to see if other people start covering this in fun ways and maybe it'll be the rare song where i like the cover much more than the original.

I saw a man out in Hollywood He carried a sign that said he hated me I said, "Please, get in line" He stopped to ask me a question He said, "Do you know Christ?" I told him, "Maybe I do, does she work the nights?" He said, "No, I mean Jesus" I said, "That guy was tight But I'm not living in a city built upon your lies" He tried to save me, but somebody already did last night They said their name was Alex, baby, and they showed me the light

like here's the studio version. give us nothing i guess??? i think if you are going to sell merch with GOD SAVE THE F*GS censored out maybe you should say that in the studio version of your song. this is probably a label decision but i want this song to be about 15% less corporate sponsor of a pride parade than it is. i feel like this song got heavily edited from a first draft and i would have liked to hear that probably much angrier first draft. hell of a hook though.

-

reading

this gay and/or lesbian romance and/or erotica project is turning into a little bit of a slog, so with the gentle encouragement of @sybilius going "what if you read good books you enjoyed?" going forward we are going to try a novel of dubious quality from my shelf and an acclaimed queer novel from history in the hopes that one of them will be tolerable. so next week we have the dubious pairing of a mob girlfriend in WITSEC romantic thriller from my shelf, and Fried Green Tomatoes At The Whistle Stop Cafe has just come off hold.

last week's assigned book was Heart on Fire, which was supposed to be even!! better!!! than Naiad Press's previous bestseller Curious Wine by Katherine V Forrest. so of course we had to detour to Curious Wine, which had a very short hold time.

reader, i did not finish this book. seven (7!) different women are introduced in the first chapter with almost no physical or clothing descriptions. they are all extremely mean to each other in the way older women who are dissatisfied with their life often sabotage all their relationships. i didn't have it in me to make a cheat card for myself with who the fuck each woman was, bc i expected somewhat lighter going in a contemporary romance with no extra genres tacked on top.

i am glad i did not continue bc while reading reviews everyone mentioned the Graphic On-Page Sexual Assault??? and this is still somehow every older lesbian's favorite book??? truly the times have changed.

Deep in the heart of France's majestic wine country, the sun drenched hills and lush vineyards of the Jeton family estate seem like the perfect setting for a passionate affaire de Coeur. But the life of workaholic winemaster, Nicole Jeton, is anything but romantic. From one harvest to the next, she runs the world-renowned winery, cares for her invalid father, and bails her no-good brother out of trouble—never stopping long enough to consider her own needs and desires. Until she meets the lovely Camille Cartier...

thank you girls. Love's Harvest by Peggy J Herring is one of the books acquired by Bella when they bought out part of Naiad Press. originally published in 1997, this 156p book was reprinted in 2007 with no additional changes or author's notes. it is the same quality as all the Bella reprints: a kind of terrible to hold perfect-bound softcover. i am beginning to suspect i simply do not vibe with the naiad and/or bella publishing market. i may not be their intended reader. im not really sure who their intended reader is, except maybe the 1997/2007 version of people who patiently comb through self-published kindle ebooks? what is the point of having a physical press and an editor if you can't make the line breaks and the quotation marks correct?

i couldn't find out much about Herring except that she died last summer and was part of her own tuesdaypost endeavor:

To further enhance communication within the women's community, [WomanSpace San Antonio] newsletter staff initiated a regular event known as Tuesday Night for discussing topics affecting women's lives. Topics ranging from real estate law to rape/incest were prepared for each Tuesday session. As ties to related community resources and events increased, the Tuesday Night events were superseded in 1995 by other events and meetings for the lesbian and gay community.

i did not like this book. such a wild amount of somewhat disjointed events take place during this novel and i really wish it was good. there is a for-real ghost, her great aunt killed by her grandfather and everyone just kind of shrugged about it??? that can dramatically interact with physical objects and STOPS A MURDER??? people are so calm about this ghost as a daily fact of life when there is exorcist level shit going on in the foreground. nicole has to cancel one of their weekend getaways bc the ghost is simply too on one and she can't figure out how to explain the ghost to camille, a presumably more normal outsider who presumably did not grow up with a ghost. the ghost is not the focal point of this book but it is by far the most interesting thing in the book.

this book felt like a barely fleshed outline. they go here. they do this. they see that. here is a great example of a section where i would have loved more elaboration in literally every sentence. the build up to this call and the call itself could have been a full chapter instead of half a page.

the least amount of dialogue i have maybe ever read in a book, and even fewer thoughts or feelings or interiority. the sex scenes read like stage direction. which is crazy bc they start fucking on page 42 and keep fucking every time they meet. they do NOT waste any time which was really refreshing. if only it was hot.

things mostly seem to happen to vineyard owner nicole— taking care of her dad (who dies quite early in the book) and the vineyard, her brother randomly shows up instead of her summoning him back to get some emotional closure (he doesn’t even show up for their father’s funeral), her gay bestie summons camille back after the third act breakup instead of nicole doing any emotional work and reaching out herself. everyone has at maximum one thing going on at a time that is neatly wrapped up before the next thing happens.

i think the 3.3 on goodreads is overly kind, but people seem to really love her other books so what do i know. maybe all these books ended up at the thrift bc their original owner was unlucky enough to somehow pick the worst book from each author and had to unload them.

-

watching

Cinderella (1950, dir. Geronimi, Jackson, and Luske) was on in the background while i was wrangling my bestie's children. probably the least scary (if you are not quite six or not quite two) disney princess movie. the bubble sequence makes me insane in a good way. i think this sort of thing is so easily replicated digitally that it looks unimpressive in 2025 but this shit is 75 years old!!! we were nineteen years away from landing on the fucking moon with a computer outpaced by my current microwave!!!

-

playing

having a real brain time with pokemon. i was gently bullied into playing the app two weeks ago by my best friend's husband after trying and failing multiple times to get into the actual video games, but after getting the 45 wins i needed to get the fanciest current event emblem i went ok great! i won pokemon! i am done with pokemon! and have sort of mentally checked it off in my head. anyway i loved my murkrow/toxicroak combo. loved to flip a coin. loved my darkness deck apparently.

the deck autobuild feature is really great bc i am able to basically hold my own while knowing nothing about pokemon other that what ive culturally osmosed. im assuming this is a pretty fun app if you like this sort of thing and your brain chemicals are balanced without outside assistance.

-

making

the baby i started this mint green baby blanket for is about to turn two in a couple weeks. better late than absolutely never i guess. my original notes called for 10 repeats but i think we're going to up that to 12, just finished the ninth repeat.

[drum-cu-naluci]

Could you elaborate on the path you think Romania is on? What do you mean by that?

I wrote a long-ass smart reply that got lost once this fucking page refreshed, reminding me why I was writing longer shit in word first. So let me try again, maybe this time better and more coherent with a new idea or two.

Let me start with the latest which made me write that. We seem to have started building places according to what I’d call “car culture”. You’ve got to have a car to get from the fancy, rat infested minefields they call residential areas, americanly known as the suburbs. Yes, the natural habitat of the common oblivious white mom who delivers her kid to the private school downtown in her Toyota, which is also her only way to get to a supermarket for her organic, definitely not overpriced or plastic tomatoes. Unless she orders them and the “browny” guy coming from an underdeveloped country to be paid minimum wage here, does it for her. Public transport and walking is only for the brave and psychos. No judgy if you still do those.

Next on my list would be the multiple job opportunities in the wonderful glass buildings, those microsofty architectural wonders which occupied the unsanitary parcels of #chernobilcore areas, saving us from the trouble of allergies from stuff like ambrosia, which grows like crazy on every private property whose owner probably got Alzheimer or dementia and forgot it ever existed. Those marvelous pieces of shit architecture also save us from the dangers of getting new parks, which are known for the rats and also homeless people. While the first ones can still get in a corporate environment through the venting system, the homeless don’t know that they could as well join a soul-devouring family that would literally work them to death for income. But if it works in Silicon Valley, why wouldn’t it do the trick for us too? If you’re not homeless and you still have a wife, a husband, a kid or more to go back to, then make sure you’ve got some good photos for them to put in your spot at the table while you work overtime again, God knows why.

Since I hate this topic, I have more on it.

The fast living style. How do you live fast enough to make sure you do as much as possible for your totally not ruthless job in the tall-ass liminal glass building erected by the handy “brownies” in less than 2 months? I don’t fucking know, I guess you just have to get your hands on the quickest foods and snacks you can, ideally without leaving the keyboard. Otherwise, how can you die on it? Don’t worry about wasting time on wasting more time once it is over, the companies’ got you covered. Have fun with your sack of Doritos the size of the guy who picked the corn for it.

It’s not all bad. We’re also giving it a try to some sort of sexual revolution which is a funny thing to do in a country where the church’s power works like we’re living in a very ugly XVII century court. The enforced purity through heavy censorship found in the days of communism is now becoming no more than a memory and we have to thank all the movies and shows that offer the closest we can get to soft porn on public television. Maybe some sunny day, which could be any day now since we’ve had 20 degrees in fucking January, we get that with them gays. Unless the fascists and priests implement Gilead. Not like both of them do it together or something like that. That would be gay.

I don’t know if I’ve touched all points I did in the message fate kindly destroyed in the form of the secret services who hate a girl dropping facts, but I tried to make sense. Anyway, anyone with some more ideas to ad or who just want to contradict me, the reblog and reply are all yours. I am mad as hell and also heavily anxious so I’m down for anything keeping my mind busy.

[writerobscura]

The USA

Sorry for the radio silence; I'm still processing how 51% of my country thinks it's okay to elect a bigoted, misogynistic felon to the presidency.

This election is a reminder that half of this country is so fucking hateful that they're willing to elect someone that makes us a laughing stock around the globe while those who bought and paid for his campaign gut democracy.

Are you doing better than you were four years ago? Of course not. You were getting subsidy checks Biden pushed through a Republican congress post-pandemic.

Wages went up for essential workers, and that expense got passed on to you because corporations aren't going to short to their shareholders - and the President can do nothing about that without holding companies accountable to regulation - which our new president has no intention of doing.

The next two years:

My adult children will lose their healthcare when he and his Republican senate quash the Affordable Care Act - but hey, so long as you have a few extra bucks at the end of the month for cigs and beer, what do you care?

Some states will be able to seize the medical records of women and mothers and use those records to fine or put them in jail (abortion, IVF, getting your trans teen the care they need) - but hey, none of those things affect you personally, so fuck 'em and hey, women aren't even human, am I right you newly registered voting Gen Z fellas?

College debt, infrastructure repairs, social programs - kiss all that goodbye because fucking the planet up is a small price to pay so you can get gasoline for under $2.99. Oh, and that Latino spouse? All it takes is one call from a disgruntled 'Murican and our new INS will be there with 'post-citizenship deportation review' papers.

Wars? How easily everyone forgets that Ukraine is at war right now because your guy failed to help him when Russia flooded his country with separatists. You think he's going to stop arming Israel? Where's the money in that?

Xenophobia may have worked when the USA was 100% self-sufficient in the 1900s, but it cannot be done in this day and age - but hey, going back to the old days is what it's all about, right?

Living in a hurricane or natural disaster prone state? You better pray to whatever G*d you worship that nothing happens in the next 2 years because the Pubs have the Senate and the presidency - no more FEMA funds and 'emergency handouts.'

Tariffs instead of taxes on the rich? Zero-sum situation. Guess how many companies import basic things just to make the shit you eat and use daily? Monsanto is no longer an American company, most farmers in the USA 'import' their seed, though because lack of corporate regulation has allowed them to destroy all farms that don't use their seed. While we're on the subject of tariffs, any foreign company can say, "We just won't sell to you, America." What's the backup plan? Oh, right, he has none.

Prices will rise, wages will stagnate, tariffs won't work, so guess who gets billed for that deficit? Not the wealthy—they spent billions electing this assclown, and there's no way they're investing one damned penny in the rest of us.

But hey, they know you can take it because you voted to have all this...You voted for all of the above at the expense of literally half your fellow countrymen.

If Kamala won, you would've lost NOTHING. Your worst case scenario under her presidency is that you would've been running in place financially while those you consider morally or racially beneath you, might've been gotten ahead a few steps.

So yeah, 51% of my country would rather watch it all burn down than suffer anyone they consider less of a human being, be given an equal chance.

[timeclipsed]

Update, just a few things pertaining to rules and activity going forward.

A lot of this is definitely unpleasant, so I apologize in advance.

To begin, going forward, my activity here is most likely going to drop substantially. My job has heavily screwed me over by gutting my hours, giving me one shift a week instead of two or three. I have medical and pet expenses on top of bills to make, so obviously this isn't gonna fly. As a result, I've decided I'm going to have to start looking for a second job. My hopes are that I'll only be working 3—4 days a week, but I'm not necessarily in any state to complain or cherrypick. Corporate numbers and metrics are more important than paying your employees a livable wage, I guess lmao.

I'm not going to sit here and beg for money but I will say that funds are tight. If you can spare even a dollar right now, it would mean the absolute world to me. My cashapp is $sixsamefaces — I thank you deeply from the bottom of my heart if you're able to donate.

Next, let's talk about my rules. I have it explicitly stated that to follow me you must be willing to communicate with me. If I do something that upsets you, I fully expect that you are mature and competent enough to speak to me about it. I'm not going to keep pussyfooting around it: I am sick of people manipulating me, talking behind my back and brushing it off, and using anon to guilt trip me. We are grown adults. If you can't find that it's appropriate or important to talk to me about the things that put you off in a mature way, you're not welcome here and I won't be covering for your ass any longer. I'm done being a nice person to people who can't even treat me with an iota of basic respect.

On that note, I'm going to be updating my DNI. This update will include a few people in the community/general circle. I won't explicitly ask that you don't follow me if you interact with these individuals but I will absolutely be limiting contact with anyone who is mutuals or in frequent contact with these people. They have harassed me, spoken ill of me behind my back, bullied me and made me feel worthless on multiple occasions. I won't be a punching bag any longer. I've put up with this out of precedent for people who I consider my friends in this community but I've taken the time and decided that there is no exception to the fact that I deserve to be treated with respect.

Lastly, there is a good chance I will be disabling anon, if only temporarily. The majority of asks I've been getting recently are from people harassing me, especially Zionists, and sending hate. I just don't have the emotional strength to deal with any of that anymore. I love interacting with you guys and I know that many of you are too shy to directly reach out which is why I've been reluctant to turn it off, but the grievous misuse of the feature is beginning to weigh on my shoulders. Hopefully I won't need to go through with it, but if I do— please don't think it's your fault or that I'm punishing you. I'm just exhausted.

I'd love to say that I have good news. But I don't. I'll still be around to try and brighten people's day as much as possible, and to see everyone's wonderful content, but until things start to look up I'm afraid this is where I'm going to stand.

Thank you for reading. I love you all, and I'm wishing you a great week to round off February.

[jjnonken]

Been a while since I've posted. I've decided I hate Facebook again and for now I'm letting off steam here.

I said before that I'd deleted my long rant and just stuck to a mini-rant. Well, today I'm posting a long rant. Fair warning: This is a rant.

As far as I can tell, there's no good news about the Borderlands movie. They've changed Commander Knoxx's character to be Atlas's daughter instead of General Knoxx, so I guess she'll be Commander Atlas now. That... doesn't matter. Of all the issues I have with this movie, whose daughter she is is probably the least important. Actually, it's not an issue. Her EXISTENCE is an issue, but not which NPC is her parent. Atlas isn't even an NPC, it's just a gun manufacturer, presumably named after its founder. We never see the founder(s) nor, as far as I can remember, hear any backstory. I'm not sure which problem they were trying to solve by the rename.

First problem: We do have to rescue Lilith, Athena, and one other who I won't mention due to spoilers. I can only think of those three. Lilith tells you to kill her if you can't save her... "Better dead than a damsel." Athena engineers her own rescue; you're just the muscle. So there's kind of a dearth of damsels in this franchise. The movie's premise is that Commander uh... Atlas?... needs to be rescued. So, right. Damsel in distress. Kind of immediately contradicts the lore of Borderlands, who has strong women who generally don't need rescuing.

Second is: why General Knoxx's er, I mean, Atlas's daughter? She's a new character. It's like BORDERLANDS ISN'T CHARACTER-RICH ENOUGH, we have to add more just to get the plot started.

Edit: She still shows credited as Commander Knoxx in my web search, including on IMDB. I saw Atlas in the last article I saw on the movie. It's possible it was simply mistaken. I note parenthetically that Knoxx works for Atlas Corporation, and the DLC he's in is Atlas-heavy. Could just be a mistake. Edit to the edit: The Wikipedia article premise mentions her as Atlas's daughter. But she's named Knoxx. I'm fucking confused; which is she?

Next: They have Kevin Hart playing Roland. Kevin Hart is a comedian. Roland is a serious, somber, straightforward guy who never jokes and never laughs, or even smiles. Any humor that happens in relation to him works because it plays off his sober sincerity.

Roland: Oh good, you're not dead. Lilith: That's his way of saying "Hi". Roland: Sorry. Hi.

Why do they need a stand-up comedian to play Roland? Either Hart is trying to branch out and do some serious acting, or... they're making a comedy.

OK, Cate Blanchett is doing Lilith. I don't know if she's the best choice, but I don't know who else I'd recommend. I guess I'm OK with that.

As for Tannis... I love Jamie Lee Curtis, but she's a scream queen that also does comedies. Tannis isn't FUNNY, she's TRAGIC. Again, there's humor, but it plays off her personality, which is informed by her severe social awkwardness. (She's pretty much coded autistic. I don't know if it's canon.) No doubt the trauma she's suffered has exacerbated any existing personality deficits. Or caused new ones. Can Curtis do a sober Tannis? I mean, play her seriously, not deadpan. I don't know. Again, I don't think she's meant to -- this movie is looking more like a comedy every day. Could be worse, but I'm not sure I'd pick her.

Next, we have Claptrap, who is introduced as "The wise-cracking robot" and played by... Jack Black, a comedic voice actor. Thing is, Claptrap does not crack wise. He's hilarious, but that's because, similarly to Roland and Tannis, the game plays off his naive sincerity. He's funny because he's so serious, but clueless. I haven't memorized every line in the entire franchise enough to instantly recall everything that every claptrap robot has said, but as far as I can remember, Claptrap has told MAYBE three jokes on purpose. One is self-referential, spoken by a claptrap who is supposed to be programming the game: "Borderlands? More like Memelands, am I right?" One is spoken right after a hatch is automatically locked, trapping you in the first map: "I hear that getting eaten by bullymongs isn't such a bad way to go." Was that one a deliberate joke? Don't know, so that's my "maybe." And the third is from a side mission called The Iceman Cometh. It's a moderately silly pun that any 10-year-old would be proud of. When you (as a character) don't react, he then EXPLAINS THE JOKE. When you still don't react, he LECTURES YOU on the nature of humor. TWICE. Naive sincerity, not cracking wise. So again, this suggests the movie being a comedy.

So, we have two of the four vault hunters from the first game, Lilith and Roland. The roles of Mordecai and Brick are interesting, in that THEY AREN'T THERE. Why?

Tiny Tina is. She's a psychotic young teen with a penchant for explosives. She's got a connection to Brick, who -- for some reason -- isn't in the movie. She's not the kind of person who needs a bodyguard -- she's the kind of person against whom YOU need a bodyguard. I only bring this up because... ... Krieg is her bodyguard in the movie. Why? I already mentioned her connection to Brick. Krieg doesn't have a connection to Tina, he has a connection to Maya. I don't know when this movie is supposed to take place in the Borderlands timeline, but if Lilith is retired, it'll be between the first and second. Possibly around the time of the Pre-Sequel. We don't see Krieg until BL2, where he's added as the last playable character after the original four plus Gaige. So the timeline doesn't make sense and Krieg's connection to Tina doesn't make sense and Krieg being Tina's bodyguard doesn't make sense. I don't know anything about the actors, I may look them up and try to watch some of their stuff.

Tina doesn't show in the game until BL2, but there's no reason to think she hasn't been around since Borderlands, we just haven't seen her. (But only after the events of BL:PS, since it's Jack's slag experiments on Tina's parents that kill them and drive her into being a vengeful little psychopath.) But Krieg doesn't show up until he becomes a vault hunter? OTOH until then he was living as a psycho... probably on Pandora. So I suppose the timeline might be OK, technically. I'll give them that one. But I still object to the Tina/Krieg connection.

Gina Gershon as Mad Moxxi: Gina is an attractive woman, doesn't have Moxxi's curves, and she's 61. She's pretty hot-looking but I'm not sure she really fits the character, physically. Can she do Moxxi's va-va-voom? Don't know.

Charles Babalola: I don't know him. I try not to get upset at race lifts; I'm used to Sir Hammerlock being the "great white hunter" stereotype, but I suppose it doesn't hurt anything if he's black. At least he's British. This is a weak protestation at most. EDIT: Several people have pointed out that he's canonically black, which I never noticed. Well, OK then, that one's on me.

Bobby Lee plays Larry. He's another stand-up comedian. There sure are a lot of those for a serious film, eh? Also, who the fuck is Larry?

Ryann Redmond as Ellie: nobody's going to match Ellie's unrealistic proportions, but Ryann seems like a reasonable choice physically; basically, you just need a plus-sized woman who can act. I don't know anything about her acting but I presume she's competent, at least. Ellie is a smartass, so wise-cracking from her is welcome. So how come they cast a stand-up comedian as Roland but a serious actress as Ellie? The cognitive dissonance is making my brain cramp.

And Eli Roth has left the project and declared that he does not want credit for his writing. THAT bodes well.

This is supposed to be canon. Canon my ass. This is a TRAVESTY. EDIT: Somebody said it's not supposed to be canon. I read that it is. I'll try to dig up the reference when I get a minute. EDIT 2: Sorry it took me so long, I was busy procrastinating. Now, in my memory, when the first announced the movie they claimed it would be "true to Borderlands", but of course that's changed. I must have skimmed over the more recent "canon" phrasing, sorry. Apparently it's changed to "canon for the Borderlands Cinematic Universe", which is not the same as canon to the games. To me that's seems a bit disingenuous, considering that as far as I can tell, the Borderlands Cinematic Universe consists of one unfinished movie. (And calling it a "Borderlands Cinematic Universe" also seems a bit conceited since their first -- and so far only -- entry has been in Production Hell for 9 years and hasn't even finished.) So my apologies for getting the "canon" claims wrong, but I'm still unhappy and I think they're making excuses. They've taken an Action Movie script, grabbed some names from the Borderlands franchise, and pretended that the result is a Borderlands movie. They did that with Sly Stallone and the first Judge Dredd movie, remember? (Maybe you don't, but I was a fan of the comics. Fortunately the second movie was much, much better.) This makes me think of Stallone's Judge Dredd. (Also the anime version of the Lensman, but that one's pretty obscure.)

Anyway, I have more, but I think I've said what I need to. I may watch the movie out of morbid curiosity. I'm not going to dislike it out of spite, I'm not that hateful. I'll try to give it a chance. I just don't like the odds.

[theresnoturningback]

Year One - Friday - JojaCola

A/N: So I finally made some time to upload this chapter. I am very excited about this one because I could finally start playing with the ASS trio dinamic. Also I could write with Sam, who I find completely adorable. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I always try to make them short so it's an easy read. Please, please, if you do like it, consider reblogging it. This is just a hobby of mine, I don't take it very seriously but seeing some validation would do wonders for my self-esteem.

Word Count: 1374

Dahlia had been counting seconds for the weekend to come. Every day she thought about Abigail’s invitation to hang out with her and her friends. The thought of that moment gave her the motivation she needed to do her chores. She hesitated before the entrance to the Stardrop Saloon and made sure she was decent enough to present herself to society. She was usually very confident about her looks, but she hadn’t been the new girl in a long time. She inhaled and exhaled to let go of her apprehensions. When she was about to step in, a tall figure opened the door for her.

“Please, after you” A grinning blonde man winked at her.

“My, what a gentleman, thanks” She chuckled after she could compose herself from that first impression.

Once she entered the saloon, the young man that let her in nodded his head as he walked past her, leading her to a comfortable room beyond the booths.

“Aw…You guys met already?” Abigail jumped from the sofa to greet them

“Met who?” Dahlia blinked

“We haven’t met properly, Abby. We just ran into each other outside; I figured it was the new farmer you talked about” The blond guy explained.

“Uh… I’m still lost” Dahlia sighed

“I’m Sam. Good to meet you”

“Dahlia” She shook his hand, smiling along. He had a very contagious smile.

“Hey, you just moved in, right?” A man slightly taller than Abigail asked before walking closer to the group

“Yeah, just this week, actually”

“Cool…and out of all the places you chose Pelican Town?” The judgmental tone in his observation made her raise her eyebrows

“I guess it wasn’t much of a choice” She shrugged “I had nowhere else to go, what’s your excuse?”

“C’mon, Dahlia… you make it sound like you’re escaping your impending doom…” Abigail laughed “Please, excuse our friend Sebby, he comes off as rude at first, but he’s adorable once you get to know him”

“Can you not call me that in here?” Sebastian nudged Abigail while Sam laughed. Once more, Dahlia found herself laughing with him. Their eyes met, making her blush for a second. She looked down at her shoes and around the room.

“No way, you guys have Joja Cola in here? Sweet” She ran to a vending machine by the arcade games

Sebastian rolled his eyes and sat back down on the couch

“You really like that stuff?” Abigail grimaced

“Leave her, she has great taste” Sam leaned on Abigail’s shoulder

“I got addicted to these when I started working at JojaCorp. You’d think they would have other options in the building. In that floor it was just us and a bunch of JojaCola vending machines”

“You worked for JojaCorp?” Abigail crossed her arms, making Sam lose balance.

Dahlia nodded.

“Same here” he said

“You have a part-time job at the local JojaMart, Sam, it’s not the same” Sebastian argued

“Still, it’s the same evil mega-corporation”

“I hated every second of it. That’s why I moved here. I just couldn’t take it anymore, but I’d trade the farm in a heartbeat for a sip of JojaCola” Dahlia reached for her pocket to take out some coins for the machine “Anyone want one?”

“Yuck” Abigail sat down next to Sebastian

“I’d like one” Sam raised his hand

“Of course you would, you human trash can” Sebastian laughed

Dahlia bought two cans and gave one to Sam

“Thanks, I promise I’ll pay it back” he said, slightly touching her fingers as she passed him the can

“You don’t have to, it’s my pleasure” She winked

“Hey, you two” Abigail called “If you’re done eye-fucking, come sit with us”

“So, how do you like the Valley so far?” Sebastian asked Dahlia as she and Sam sat next to each other on a red couch

“It’s calm, I like that. I wanted to be as far away from the city as possible and my grandpa left me his farm. I don’t know the first thing about farming besides what I’ve learned when I started growing pot in my apartment” She laughed “But I’m sure I’ll learn in no time”

“Do you plan on growing weed in your farm?” He leaned forward

“You bet those were the first seeds I bought before moving the city. They’re already in the soil. I’ll let you know when they’re ready to harvest”

“Neat” Sebastian gave her an approving nod.

“I told you she was cool” Abigail nudged Sebastian.

“Ouch, Abby, not so hard!” He narrowed his eyes at her “Control your strength, woman”

Sam cleared his throat after a sip of his cola and turned to his new friend

“Say Dalhia, do you play pool?”

She glanced at the green table and nodded with confidence

“Do you guys gamble?” She asked

The three of them shook their heads.

“I told you she was too cool for us” Sebastian whispered to Abigail

“Maybe a quick game?” Sam insisted

“Sure, let’s sink some balls” Dahlia said excitedly before finishing her cola

The group stood up and started a quick game of cutthroat pool. Dahlia sank her rival’s balls in less than fifteen minutes.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t gamble. Stay in school��� She laughed once she sank Sebastian’s last ball.

“Wow, you have to teach me how to do that” Abigail took Dahlia’s hands “Pretty please?” She insisted jumping up and down in place

“I will, but maybe some other time? I must wake up early tomorrow” She promised

“Wait, you’re going home already? Let me walk you home” Sam offered hastily

“I don’t know Sam, it’s a rather long walk, are you sure you can handle it?”

“Just go” Sebastian and Abigail said in unison

“Bye, Abby! It was nice meeting you, Sebby” Dahlia giggled. He immediately glared at Abigail

Sam and Dahlia left the Saloon and started walking together until the silence started to feel awkward.

“What…? Don’t tell me you turn shy when your friends aren’t around” Dahlia looked up at him, giggling. He had a serious expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking…”

“About what?”

“You know when you have so many thoughts in your head you can’t focus on a single one?”

“Oh”

“I was actually trying to remember if the girl that used to come during the summer and play with us really was you or someone else”

“I spent a couple of summers here when I was little” She nodded “Now I remember you”

“So, it was you!” Sam laughed “You used to be taller than me, what happened to you?”

“You were shorter because you’re younger than me, that’s all”

“What? No…” He frowned “I remember Abby and Seb were 5 and I was 6…How old were you then? You couldn’t be much older than that”

“I was 9. I’m turning 26 in a couple of weeks”

“Huh, time flies…”

“It sure does”

They continued walking a little slower

“You stopped coming that summer, Abby and I missed you the following year”

“My dad had just died, and my mom took me to another city, far away from here” Dahlia shrugged

“I’m sorry to hear that”

“It’s okay…it’s been a long time” She looked around, smiling “I missed this place, too”

“You know... I used to live in the city, and I have to admit, this place is much nicer in the summer. The city is so hot with all that concrete”

“I can get used to this” She caught him glancing at her and they let out a small laugh “I mean, I’m so done with the city. I just wanted to start a new life in here”

“If you need help with anything, we’re friends now”

“Thank you” She tried to focus on her own shoes as she walked to avoid that smile she was starting to find too adorable to ignore

“This is your place?” Sam asked when they got to the end of the trail

“Yeah, this is me” She turned to him and stood on her toes to give him a small peck on his cheek “Thank you for the walk down memory lane”

Dahlia ran back to her house, leaving Sam standing without a single thought left in his mind.

[silverwings22]

Song of the Sea: Chapter 16: Raising Hatchlings

Chapter Warnings: gambling, sexual implications, catastrophic overthinking Series warning: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a.

Previous chapter:

Next chapter:

 Hunter had wanted to let the team rest, but Shiani could sense the minute that they'd arrived on Ord Mantell that Cid wanted their services. It didn't matter that they were tired and aching, or that Tech had refused to get off the ship when everyone else did. She still hadn’t seen him since the argument in hyperspace, and she’d been hoping to try to reconcile when they’d landed. Cid was disrupting her planned apology. 

Selfish hearts.

“I've got a job for you boys. It's a big score, enough to start making a dent in what you owe me.” Cid met them at the door. 

Hunter rubbed the bridge of his nose. “... we need to lay low, Cid. Bounty hunters are still after the kid.”

“Let's not forget our mutually beneficial deal, Dark and Broody. Or how much I know about you all.”

Behind Hunter, Shiani started to pop up with blue rings again. She was less than impressed with Cid's threatening them, and still defensive about Omega being captured and raw from the fight. Her jaw trembled, teeth showing through the sides as she tried to keep herself from outright snarling at the trandoshan. “Not very nice, Cid.”

“Easy, Suckers. It's a rescue mission.” Cid frowned. “I thought you liked helping people.”

“My family is more important. Where are you sending us anyway?” She crossed her purple arms. “Who do you want rescued?”

“A senator on Raxus. It'll be worth plenty of credits.” Cid pointed a claw at her. 

Shiani frowned. “Raxus�� Separatist senate is on Raxus.” Tech had mentioned to her long ago that most clones dreamed of fighting on Raxus one day, and winning the war for the Republic. He had been less gung-ho about it, but the idea of the war finally ending had appealed. He’d wanted to show her the galaxy then… that was how they were supposed to be. Not whatever was happening right now.

“I'm not taking Omega anywhere near Raxus.” Hunter said firmly. 

Echo nodded to the sergeant. “Raxus is no place for Shiani either. She’s a civilian.”

Cid shrugged. “Leave them here then. I'll keep an eye on Tiny and Suckers.”

Omega set up a loud protest. Shiani just looked at Echo with big eyes. “You’re leaving me here?”

“It’s better this way. Tech’s not on his game, and he’ll be worse with you around right now. It could be dangerous distraction.” The corporal patted her head fondly, brotherly affection she’d missed for a long time.

She headbutted his hand lightly. “You’ll make sure he comes back safe, right?” She didn’t like being left, but she had to admit that Echo had a point. If Tech was distracted, he could get hurt. She’d rather be by herself for a while than anything happen to him. Especially if the last conversation they had was them yelling at each other. 

Echo nodded. “You have my word. And I’ll see if I can talk to him for you, too.”

“We all will.” Wrecker ruffled Shiani’s head lightly, and Hunter gave her a nod.

They turned and walked out, leaving Omega and Shiani both looking deflated. They retreated to a booth in the corner. 

“I hate this.” Omega said sadly. “We're a part of the squad. We shouldn't be left behind.”

“You heard Echo. I’m a distraction, and you’re still a baby. They’re protecting you.” Shiani patted her hand. “If you were a siren, you’d still be too little to be allowed on hunts.”

“Well how do I learn if I'm not allowed to try?” Omega grumbled. 

The siren pondered thoughtfully. “When siren babies want to prove they’re ready to learn to hunt, they have to prove they can handle simpler problems at home. Prove they are responsible.”

Omega frowned. They had a lot of problems, but if the grown men couldn't figure them out how was she supposed to? She looked to Shiani, who’s loyalty and devotion Omega admired, as the siren's pale eyes moved around the bar. “What kind of problems can I solve? None of ours are simple right now.”

Shiani nodded. “You're right, none of the Batch's problems are simple. But the biggest one is debt. We can't make any credits if Cid takes them all, and then we can't pay for new things, so Cid gives things and considers it more debt. Cycle goes round and round like a jellyfish caught in a bubble ring.” 

“But how do we pay off the debt if we can't do our own missions?” Omega kicked her feet in the booth. 

Shiani pointed at the dejarik table. “I fixed that not long ago. People come in, play, and bet credits. Sometimes, they bet big credits. Can you play dejarik?”

“Yeah… I used to play with Nala Se sometimes. It's a good strategy game.” Omega nodded. 

Shaini reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of credits Tech had insisted she keep for emergencies. “Cid’s playing now, and she's losing. Go and offer advice first. Make her trust you. Then offer to play the next round, and bet this.” She handed the credits to Omega. “Once you win, people will come to try to beat you. Especially because you’re little, they think it’s easy to win and they’ll bet big credits. If you win enough, you can pay debt. Then your brothers will see you’re ready to learn to hunt.” She patted Omega's hair.

Omega smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Shiani. You're the best sister.” She hugged the siren firmly around the middle and skidding out of the booth to get to Cid. Shiani sat with the weight of her words.

Sister. Shiani hadn't been anyone's sister in such a long time. Her big brother hated her, her parents disowned her, her old friends had abandoned her. All of Acopit had orders to kill her on sight, because the bright lights of Tipoca City and the yellow-lensed eyes of a clone trooper were too powerful to resist. Omega loved so quickly, she'd only known Shiani for a few months…

If sirens loved like that, I would have loved to stay on Kamino. 

Omega deserved that kind of love returned, and she loved her brothers fiercely as a pod of purrgil. She had to do her part to raise this girl too… but what could she give Omega that the men couldn't? They were strong and knew more about the surface than she did… The only life she knew was survival between the Melody and Harmony, waiting forever for a man to answer her hearts’ call. A man who seemed very determined to ignore his own hearts, for that reason. 

After about a half hour, Cid walked over to her with a grin. “Tiny is good. She's racking up credits like it's going out of style.”

“Baby Mega is very clever.” Shiani said quietly, distrustful but polite as ever. 

“You don't seem to like me too much, Suckers.” Cid sat next to her. 

“You like to capitalize. I don’t have much to give you, so I know I’m not useful. The only thing I can do is fix machines and sing, really.” Shiani shrugged. There wasn’t any point in telling Cid she thought she was as shady as the bottom of an ocean trench and less trustworthy than a sea snake. It would just lead to another argument, and she was tired of yelling. What she really wanted was to find a nice quiet corner and huddle up, waiting hopefully for Tech to come back and forgive her for whatever it was about her that had pissed him off. 

“Sing, huh? Why don't you give us a show? We've got a karaoke machine around here. I'll put up a tip jar, and anything you make we'll put towards what the boys owe me.” Cid grinned. 

There was really no way out for the siren so she let herself be hauled to the bar. “You do realize I’m not talking about popular songs, right?”

“That's fine. Just give em what you got.”

Shiani sighed and sat on the bar with the mic, watching the barflies and betting. Cid wanted them to spend money, so they needed to be happy. 

She crossed her legs and brought the mic to her mouth, and out flowed a smooth and wordless melody that had everyone in the bar carefree and relaxed. Credits were changing hands, bets placed, and drinks were poured.

She sang her hearts out, but she wished she was back in the Havoc Marauder and the quiet of Tech's company. She'd never liked being the center of attention, even as a princess. That was why she’d become the Minister of Security, so she could work out in the city without an audience… 

I miss Tech…

Tech's ever racing thoughts had been distracted all day, since they’d left Omega and Shiani on Ord Mantell. At one point, Hunter had given orders that included Omega, and Tech had found himself turning to exchange a playfully judgmental glance with the siren that Hunter had made a mistake. Halfway through, he realized he had made the same error.

The mission had been messy, rescuing the Senator and his fussy droid assistant from the hostile Empire who seemed very determined to torture everyone into compliance. They were secure down in the belly of the ship, and he was flying them back to Ord Mantell. He wanted to comm Shiani and make sure she was alright… but he wasn’t sure he could make himself look her in the eye right now. He couldn’t this morning, when they’d landed and she’d stood at the cockpit doors and quietly asked him to come out and come to the Parlor. He’d just shrunk into the pilot’s chair and waited for Wrecker and Echo to walk her out. Hunter had just spoken through the door and told him he better have access back to the cockpit by the time he came back to the ship. Which was reasonable enough, seeing as he was their leader. But now that the mission was done and he was sitting by himself, Tech knew he was about to get the big brother treatment Hunter was so famous for. And he was not looking forward to it.

Sure enough, Hunter walked into the cockpit after a few hours of flight. “... I don't like thinking he's a good person. It makes me question everything we fought for. Echo’s even madder about it.”

Tech looked up and nodded. “It is somewhat uncomfortable, yes. He was more polite than I anticipated.”

Hunter dropped into the co-pilot’s seat, looking at Tech as he alternated between checking the ship’s indicators and typing furiously on his datapad. “You know we’ve gotta talk about what happened yesterday.”

“I anticipated as much. I am… less than thrilled.” Tech sighed. 

“Well too bad.” Wrecker and Echo both walked in, the corporal leaning in the doorframe while Wrecker lounged against the back of Hunter’s chair. 

Tech groaned. “This does not need to be a squad affair.”

“Yes it does. This affects the entire squad.” Hunter nodded. “If you’re going to yell at her across the whole ship where we can all hear, then you’re going to get everyone’s opinion.”

Tech put his head in his hands. “I do not appear to have a choice, it would seem. And I did not intend to yell at her…” He’d meant what he said, but the memory of the way he’d said it still burned his throat all over again. “How angry is she?”

“She’s not.” Wrecker sighed. “Just confused and sad about it. She loves you, Tech.”

“And you clearly feel the same.” Echo waved his scomp in the air. “We’ve had this discussion, vod. Why are you doing this to both of you?”

“Because it is the only way I do not lose her!” Tech snapped. “Why am I the only one who seems to understand that?”

“Looks to me like you’re doing the opposite.” Hunter said coolly.

“I am not designed for romantic entanglements. My nature is not… I cannot give her what she deserves.” Tech rubbed his temples, frustrated. “You all have told me hundreds of times I am abrasive, blunt, and obsessive with my work. These are not traits of an ideal partner. I cannot change who I am. The logical conclusion is I would fail her as a partner. I cannot make her the priority she deserves to be. Not and keep all of us alive and the ship maintained, and try to formulate an educational plan for Omega so that she might be able to protect herself in the event something else takes her away like what just happened on Bracca.” Tech’s shoulders were tense, spine threatening to snap as he laid out everything in his over-twisted mind. “You think I do not love Shiani? I would do anything not to lose her. That is why I cannot be anything more than her friend, because it is the only thing I know I can accomplish. If I disappoint her in something more than that, she will inevitably come to resent me and leave. I cannot stand that. I realized that after Salucemi, and have done everything since then to prevent it.” 

Wrecker made a face. “You already act like you’re dating. Tech, she’s the only person in the galaxy you’d ever willingly cuddle with. You don’t even let Omega snuggle with you like the rest of us do.”

Tech shook his head. “Shiani is biologically wired to prefer physical closeness…It is a siren trait. I have grown accustomed to it.”

“You’ve known me and Wrecker since you came out the tube.” Hunter huffed. “You literally put a proximity sensor around your bunk when we were cadets so no one could touch you unexpectedly.”

“She is… softer. More careful.” Tech’s face turned red. His brothers were rough, even when they tried not to be. But being close to Shiani was always comforting, and he never ended up with an accidental elbow in his rib or his goggles knocked half off in the shuffle. 

“And apparently not opposed to those cuddles going further than that.” Wrecker rolled his eyes. “She literally told me all you ever had to do was ask. But you’re gonna mess around and she’s gonna start looking for snuggles from somebody else cause you’ve turned her down enough times.”

Tech froze, a lump in his throat at the idea of watching Shiani with someone else. Who would she pick? One of his brothers, or a stranger? He’d had his share of shore-leave flings, but most clones had. The idea of her picking up a partner on Ord Mantell, even something not serious, made him want to rip his brain out of his head and run it under cold water to prevent a short circuit. “I..” 

Echo leaned in. “I couldn’t even blame her if she did. If I chose to live in exile to save somebody’s life and they slammed a door in my face like you did last night, I’d probably be trying to find a way to get over them. When I was in the 501st, my buddy Fives told me the best way to get over one person was get under another.”

Tech’s eye twitched for a moment at the idea, ready to say something defensive, when he spotted a flaw in the argument. “Your hypothesis is flawed. Shiani was exiled against her will; she did not choose it. Therefore it had nothing to do with me.”

Echo snorted. “Not what she told me. According to her, she could have avoided exile, but she would have had to drown you on Kamino. And she refused, in order to save your life.” 

Hunter winced. “Oof. If sirens have a biological impulse for closeness, and as busy as our training was… that must have been torture for her. I thought the living in garbage part was rough.”

Tech’s breath hitched. “She… did not tell me about that.”

“She probably didn’t want you to feel guilty.” Wrecker pointed out. “But it seems pretty clear that if she was willing to leave her people for you, she’s not gonna go anywhere. Even if you guys didn’t work out as a couple, you mean a lot to her.” 

Tech rubbed his temples. “I need to process this. Is… did she say anything else I should know?”

“She said nothing had to change that you didn’t want to change.” Wrecker said quietly. ‘But you know how you pick up your arm for her to cuddle under it? You both do it without even talking anymore.”

Tech nodded. It had turned into a reflexive action, how he indicated to her that he was okay with the contact. They’d been doing it since he’d graduated from Basic, when he’d come to understand she was totally on her own. “Yes.”

“She said when she’s there, she feels like she doesn’t belong.” Wrecker shook his head. “Even though it’s her favorite place to be.” 

Tech winced. “I am not trying to hurt her.”

“We know.” Hunter sighed. “But you are. And yourself. Look, I can’t give you orders on something like this. But I think you’re doing more harm than good if your goal is not to lose her. Just saying.” He got up, and waved the other three to follow him. “And Tech?”

“Yes?”

“For what it’s worth, I think she’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to you. She’s the only one that can get you out of your own head sometimes.”

Tech was left alone with his thoughts again, and they were more complicated than they had even been the night before. When Ord Mantell came into view, he moved my muscle memory alone to get them landed safely.

Tech was still thinking when they arrived back in the bar. There was a crowd, which was unusual, and Omega was at the dejarik table with Cid in the middle of it. Shiani was seated on a corner of the bar, a mic in hand, singing a tune that had half the bar throwing money or themselves at her, and the other half betting on Omega. 

Echo snickered. “So much for laying low.”

Omega glanced up and quickly won the match she was playing. Cid grinned, claws open to take in credits when the girl jumped up and ran over to them. Shiani perked up as well and hopped off the bar, leaving the mic on the bartop as she made her way through the crowd as well. 

Omega was grinning, eager to prove herself, when Hunter fixed her with a displeased look. “I thought I told you to keep a low profile, Omega. It’s dangerous to attract this much attention!”

The little girl’s expression fell and she backed up, bumping into Shiani. The siren wrapped her arms around Omega’s shoulders, cocking her head to the side. “You should be grateful to Baby Mega. She paid off all the debt to Cid.” 

Hunter blinked. “What?” 

Omega leaned back into Shiani’s snuggle, the siren moving one clawed hand to gently pet her hair. “I thought if I could win enough money to pay Cid back, you’d see I wasn’t useless….” 

Hunter froze, thinking back to the conversation they’d all had with Tech. No wonder Shiani looked like she wanted to bite him; Omega felt alone and Shiani knew all about that feeling. After a moment, he shook his head and knelt, waving Omega over to him. She glanced up at Shiani, who opened her arms and gave her a nod. “Hunter loves you, Baby Mega.” She said softly. “Go make up.”

Omega skidded over to Hunter, who put a hand on her shoulder and tried to explain he didn’t think she was useless and was grateful for her contributions. He ended up nodding to the dejarik table and cutting her a deal; if she beat him he wouldn’t make her stay behind on missions anymore. Wrecker and Echo moved over to watch, making their own wager on who was going to win. 

Shiani smiled nodded, content with things being as they should with Omega and Hunter. She glanced at Tech, who’s eyes were fixed on his boots, and sighed before slipping outside to head back to the ship. He probably didn’t want to take their usual walk around the city to look at the lights… maybe she’d walk on her own for a little while.

Wrecker elbowed him sharply and pointed as the siren’s tentacles vanished out the door. “Go talk to her.”

Tech caught up with Shiani outside, standing under a string of paper lanterns two blocks from the bar that she liked to look at. She had her arms folded behind her back and her tentacles wound around her waist, eyes lifted up. She’d always loved lights, and he wondered how often she sat under those camp lanterns he’d stolen from their supply kits and silently made the same face she was making now while in the cave on Kamino. Had she been thinking about the life she’d saved, the one who was unknowing and ungrateful for her sacrifice? Did she ever regret it when she was especially lonely? 

“Shiani?” He murmured, catching her attention. 

Her ear fins wiggled at the sound of his voice, and she turned around. The lights left almost cartoonishly adorable sparkles in her big eyes. “Tech.” She sounded a little guarded, worried he was still upset with her. “I’m glad you came back safe.”

“Your concern is appreciated.”  He stepped up even with her and looked up at the lights. “Would you still like to walk with me? I understand if you would prefer space…”

She looked surprised. “You’re not mad at me anymore?”

“No. I owe you an apology.” He sighed. “I behaved badly. I was embarrassed, but that is no excuse to raise my voice to you, or storm off. I’m sorry for my behavior.” 

“I accept your apology.” She murmured. She wanted to try to pick up the conversation between them and see if there was any way to come to an understanding, but she didn’t want to risk the fight starting again. “And… yes. I’d like to walk.”

Tech hesitantly lifted his closest arm, and she slotted herself under it automatically. It still felt persistently like she was in someone else’s assigned seat, but she couldn’t make herself let go. They turned down the block, picking up the familiar track they always walked when they got back from a mission. Tech had charted it to pass the most street signs and city lights, for her to look at. 

Tech didn’t say much, glancing back at her face from time to time. Instead of looking at the lights like she usually did, she kept looking back at him too. He finally sighed. “You want to say something.”

“I don’t want to start another argument.” She shook her head. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

“I was not mad at you, Shiani. I was… that was an uncomfortable situation, out of my control. I became overwhelmed, and took that out on you unfairly. But you were not the problem. You have never been the problem.” Tech sighed again, slowing his steps until they’d stopped in a local courtyard. They were the only ones there, which he found somewhat comforting.

“Will you explain to me what the problem is?” She murmured, and she looked so tired when she looked up at him. He wondered if she’d slept at all the night before, before she got stuck performing for Cid’s patrons. 

Tech rubbed the bridge of his nose, giving himself a mental pep talk before looking at her. “Our lives are extremely uncertain right now. At any moment, we could end up back on the run again. I am the pilot, and the one responsible for major ship repairs, reviewing plans with Hunter, managing supply manifests, and developing a curriculum to teach Omega. In short, I am picking up my job and additional duties brought on by our situation and the absence of Crosshair. At any point, I may be busy for sixteen hours straight without pause, and that is not taking into consideration my personal projects I am well known to become obsessed with for days or weeks at a time.”

Shiani nodded. “I know. I help you with some of those things.” 

“And as it is, I already cannot give you the amount of attention you deserve. That is as your friend. As a romantic partner, I would be a dismal failure.” He shook his head with a wince. “It is only logical that you would eventually resent me, and want to leave. I have said repeatedly that I do not want to lose you. That is why I did not want to tell you… what was mentioned on Bracca.”

She blinked up at him, little dotted brow furrowed and the occasional pulse of blue light down her body. He was scared, and it made her genius stupid… after so many months of wondering what was wrong with her that hadn’t been wrong with the pretty little bar girls and dancers on Coruscant, the truth came out that he felt the same way she did and was being an idiot about it. After a few moments, her expression smoothed and she shook her head. “I don’t like you deciding things for me, Tech. I didn’t like it when you decided I should leave on Salucemi, and I don’t like it now that you’ve decided how I would feel about this.” 

“It is a perfectly logical progression of emotions-” He started, but she held up her hand and ducked out from under his arm so she could face him.

“It might be for a human, I guess. But not for me. When sirens love, we can feel every beat of the other’s hearts. Two become one. Does your right hand get jealous it doesn’t hold the left one?” 

He blinked, startled, as she took both of his hands in hers seriously. “Shiani…”

“I told you I didn’t expect anything from you, and I still don’t.” She murmured. “And that all I wanted was to be beside you. I waited for months between visits just to see you on Kamino, and years to see the stars with you. I made my decision, and it’s always going to be you. So please stop trying to make different ones for me?” She squeezed his hands in three quick bursts, then let them go. “You’ll make whatever choice you make. Please don’t make it based on your assumptions, okay? I’m going to go back to the ship, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

He blinked. “Are you angry with me now?”

“No. I just think you are the smartest moron the galaxy has ever produced.” She smiled faintly. “Lucky for you, you’re pretty.” She reached up and patted his cheek fondly, then turned on her heel and walked back towards the ship with her hands back behind her back. 

Tech was left standing in the middle of the street, entirely confused and with his heart thumping hard in his throat. For a split second when she’d reached for his face, he’d thought she was going to kiss him… and he’d decided he wasn’t going to stop her if she did.

[loverboy1717]

First, I have not seen it yet and if I end up being wrong I’ll eat my words and say so. So don’t come for me in the comments yeah?

Second, I’m sincerely wondering if the people who are saying Next Goal Wins is transphobic are saying it cus it actually is or because it was honest and portrayed transphobia in sport.

I’m wondering if these peeps have any understanding of how fucked up organized footie is? I wonder if they’ve ever seriously followed international soccer or know it well. Cus anybody who does would not expect there to be no conflict or shitty behavior towards an out queer player.

Im not saying it’s okay at all that it happens. Im just saying a world without gender identities being mishandled in soccer does not exist.The sport itself is beautiful. I started playing at four years old. I played competitively from ten all the way through senior year in high school and then quit when I came out and nobody wanted to change in front of me in the locker room anymore. (Being a cis white queer woman sucked. I can’t imagine how much worse it is/was for a player on the international stage as a gender non conforming person of color.) I found my way back in my mid twenties and still play in competative rec leagues at thirty one. This sport is something I could not live without. There are moments of sheer fucking joy and magic and catharsis and banter and shit housing and community. I truly feel kinship with other people who love this silly game as much as I do. But it can also be a trashcan fire of bullshit and hate. It isn’t fucking Ted Lasso my dudes.

And this movie is about FIFA qualifiers for a low af ranked team. It’s about a supremely underfunded and written off team made up of PoC. It follows a white head coach who is gonna come in and turn them around more for his own redemption than for the teams success. This was never gonna be a completely light hearted romp no matter how it was marketed. Fifa fucking sucks guys. The corporate side of soccer fucking sucks. The coaches trying to make names for themselves or don’t think they will have to pay for their actions fucking suck. That doesn’t mean there are not meaningful stories to tell about players.

What I’m trying to say is I’m curious to see if this is transphobia because it’s transphobia or if it is accurately depicting some transphobic bullshit that happened and people online are mad about that existing in a movie they wanted to be safe and gooey and silly. Basically, I remember when people said Jojo Rabit was antisemitic and it absolutely isn’t. So forgive me for taking some of the bad reviews with a grain of salt.

Like I said I’ll eat my words and own being wrong if I end up being wrong. I just don’t trust media literacy these days and am gonna wait to see for myself because I’ve been jazzed as fuck for this movie for months and months.

[blazehedgehog]

Isn't Steam a paradox from an economic point of view? They have the first mover adventage, they have a de facto monopoly, but they are not at all greedy -- not to the point of being anti-consumer, at least. And the innovations they bring to the table are actually useful stuff (Proton above all). Valve is just.. there, operating their business, making good money with nobody really complaining.

It depends on what economic values you subscribe to. A lot of guys like EA want to take the shortcut to easy money. EA even tried to compete with Steam, remember. They had their "Origin" client. They gave away free games for over a year and still nobody would use it. The hope was to give them something comparable to Valve's firehose of money. An easy profit stream where they could get a cut of every game sold on PC just by the simple fact they existed.

Rather than just do good work, they hoped to pry people off of Steam with the promise of regular freebies... except it was a client nobody wanted to use and in a lot of cases actively hated. It lacked most of the features of Steam, was a little bloated, and came at a time where EA was starting to push increasingly aggressive DRM that limited how many "activations" you were allowed per-game. So, it struggled.

The same thing happened with Uplay. Ubisoft thought they could make their own Steam, but the greed was too evident and annoying. It was a hassle to work with, added nothing of real value, and nobody wanted to use it. So most people didn't, unless they were forced to use it.

That's the thing with these corporations, right? Nothing is ever enough. They can't just sell well on Steam, they have to make their own platform so they can have all the money. And the profit lines must not only always go up, it has to go up faster. More and faster and more and faster and more and faster until the wheels come off and everything breaks.

Then these board of director weirdos, now among the richest 5% of people on earth, pull the ripcord and parachute over to the next corporation and start over. All the money, more and faster and more and faster...

What separates Valve is that Valve never seems to have treated it like much of a race. Like, sure, they do things to boost sales (even recently had a really ugly "capitalism celebration" sale event) but they seem pretty comfortable being themselves and not cranking all the dials until they break off.

Some of that is arguably down to the fact that Valve never became a publicly traded company. Once you get listed on the stock market, investors enter the picture, and the whole dynamic of how a company exists changes. Publicly traded companies rely on investors for some amount of operating costs, and the highest ranking investors can even legally control some part of your company as if they were employed there.

But there's never any guarantee that an investor knows what is good for your company. They just gave you a lot of money and expect you to pay it back at some point (by increasing shareholder value). And its created this culture of people who race to maximize everything at the expense of the structural integrity of the company and its employees. It's like (spoilers for one of the most famous movie trilogies of all time) the end of Back to the Future 3, right, where they need to get this old 1800's locomotive up to 88mph.

Feeding it that much fuel, getting the heat up that high, it builds up extreme pressure in the boiler and the train will eventually explode. Except for a lot of these business types, exploding the boiler is the point. Exploding the boiler is a successful operation. Like I said: more and faster and more and faster, right?

Some companies need investor money to survive. But... not all do. Many of them still go public anyway, because the race to explode the boiler matters more than just being comfortable. We're still in the era of people starting companies just to sell them.

Valve got lucky. They established an emerging market, gave people exactly what they wanted, and became the defacto home for PC gaming. Steam was such a comfortable, welcoming platform that nobody even thought about competing with them until they had already gained too much momentum to ever be slowed down.

And the only reasons most people can come up with to compete with Valve is "We want more money." Valve wants 30% of my earnings? A whole 30%??? Unreasonable! I'll start my own storefront! With blackjack! And etc.!

As someone who works with Youtube and gets a 55/45 split, I guess I don't have perspective on how 30% is some kind of horrible offense. Only in my wildest dreams would Youtube give me 70/30.

But really, that's all this is. Valve did good work and got themselves into a position where they now can't really be out-spent into obsolescence. I mean, Epic Games is currently trying to do that, and they're burning something in the realm of $275,000,000 a year (according to this website I am unfamiliar with and have never read before today). By Epic's own statistics, most people registered to the EGS client spend less than a dollar on the platform (723m users apparently spent $820m).

Valve has so much momentum with Steam that they can (and often do) just coast, granting them a reputation for taking a very long time fine-tuning most of their products until they are perfect. Gabe Newell is so rich he owns and operates multiple fully-staffed private yachts. Not by more and faster, but by getting to the race track before anyone even knew it was open and just doing the job so consistently they are now ten laps ahead.

To compare with what happened with Netflix, which also established an emerging market: Netflix also didn't want to just coast. Movie disc rentals by mail became streaming movies. That turned into streaming TV. That turned into Netflix wanting to make their own original content so they wouldn't have to pay to license anyone else's movies. That turned into Netflix wanting to offer games. And lest we forget, the founder of Netflix specifically has a vendetta against theatrical movies and continues to deliberately erode that market.

There is no "coasting" for Netflix. There is only more and faster. Netflix put out 17 original films in 2016. Last year, 2023, Netflix put out 153 original films, 49 original documentaries, 11 TV specials, 11 short films, 28 stand-up comedy shows, and at least 26 new original TV shows. The aim is not to maintain a good platform, the aim is to dominate and make all the money there is to make in multiple industries. The line must always goes up until the boiler explodes.

Anyone could just do what Valve did, but nobody wants to because it's too slow and takes too much actual work (and luck) making genuinely good products. It also theoretically leads to a "dead end" where growth slows or even stops. That means the line doesn't go up anymore, it just levels out and stays there. Outrageous! You mean the man who owns a fleet of yachts doesn't want make infinitely more money forever? The nerve of some people.

It's easier to crack the whip on someone else and crank up the heat until the boiler explodes. Especially when that's what all the competition is doing, too.

[dreadfutures]

we are pissing away every chance to combat global warming and direct much needed federal funds to clean water and housing and food security for the most vulnerable in our country

for the fucking military industrial complex and anti Arab racism

I fucking hate this place and every old white guy in politics needs to GTFO. all of them. I would use stronger language except if the government ever links me to this, which could totally happen if the next person in charge decides to crack down on that and spy on employees, i don't want to go to jail lmaooooo

there was so much that got fucked over by trump and the GOP and so much that has been not only reversed but so vastly improved under this administration, such truly truly progressive fucking revolutionary uses of government to make real much needed progress for citizens. and it's all getting fucking pissed away by one stupid man's commitment to Israel. a majority of his own administration is against him on this and he is just torpedoing any chance of reelection, and the first thing Trump's gonna do is a) tell Israel to nuke whoever they want and b) replace the head of every government agency to do with energy, the environment, human support, and infrastructure, with embezzling cronies obsessed with oil and nothing else, just like last time, which fucking. ended up with literally an embezzlement scandal, and huge budget cuts that set back science and welfare decades.

pissed away.

trump is gonna win because no one wants to vote for the CURRENT genocide supporter and when we don't vote for a blue president we don't get a blue president. I so look forward to enjoying the 100fold increase in military spending and the next world war that Trump will start.

every person who will ever run for president is gonna be a murderer and an awful person, you don't get that much money behind you without it. We are always gonna be faced with the "lesser of two evils means you're still voting for evil" argument but genuinely, genuinely, I would still rather have an inch of progress than 4 steps backward.

the world gets better, the world gets less capable of mass awfulness, when we are able to build up structures and maintain them for good. Inch by inch. But the GOP has and will continue to fucking dismantle them and set up and reinforce the structures that allow the military industrial complex and big oil and other evils to thrive, and the more entrenched they are, the less progress the next "lesser of two evils" will be able to make.

I want to wave my wand and give us an entirely new form of government and governmental priorities and the way that government money is spent, but we can't do that before November. this is the awful hellscape we live in and sitting out en masse is an active torpedo.

I wish our primary system wasn't a joke I wish we had actual candidates I wish we had no lobbyists I wish we had no corporate money in politics but that's not the world we live in and it never will be if the GOP gets to have another chance and another chance and another chance and continues to dismantle what little democratic power we have lmaoooo

I hate this place I hate this choice.

can't convince anyone of that and the choice makes me want to throw up anyway. so we're fucked! we're fucked. didn't even get the senator I wanted. fuckers.

[philanthropicfeline]

"Another suitcase in another hall" - Andrew Lloyd Webber

*TW: I will be discussing adult scenarios and themes that have happened in my life so fair warning cuz this post is pretty dark and I'm tired of being in my body rn*

Look at me in that image. I'm asking for it. I'm begging as the drool, pools in my mouth. Ravish me till I turn blue...

I'm just flesh and bone

All I am is flesh and bone

Nothing more and nothing less

I'm only needed when I'm needed, never wanted, never more

Discarded when they're finished, scraped hollow, left alone

I was made to be used, all I am is flesh and bone

Not good enough for good things, just enough for temporary thrills

But that's okay, my purpose here is clear

I was meant for others, I was meant to be used

I'm surprisingly happy with being a mere object

Tossed around, only to be found by my next user

I will wear and tear, I will bend and fold,

I won't break, I'm already broken

She doesn't say hi, he doesn't say bye, they don't say hello

She's never said hi, he always waves bye, they don't speak at all

I'm so tired, but I can't be tired, all I am is flesh and bone

Flesh and bone, corrupted flesh, burnt bone

No such thing as pain, ash is my home

Why do I keep making mistakes? Why am I so mean?

I hate hating her, I love loving her, I'm tired of her and her moods

I'm not worth the time, I'm a waste of space;

I'm just flesh and bone...

Listening to this song doesn't seem to be a good idea in my current state of mind. It's clear as day that this song is about sex. I can't help but wonder...is sex all I'll ever be good at? Is that all I'll ever amount to? Is there more to me than sex? Maybe it's deeper than that.

I was in a situation once where 3 girls (myself included) were "sharing" the night with one guy. This chap so happened to take my virginity. I was still new at this "play thing" role, but I was certain that I wanted to gain more experience and have fun. I didn't have as much experience with this like the other 2 girls so I agreed that watching and giving pleasure was more suited for me that night. I watched as the three fell into a trance of love and lust and I was enchanted by the display before me. They had so much fun and I was watching from the side with a smile. What a night that was. But why did I feel so lonely?

The girls said goodnight while I was asked to stay behind and sleep over. "Did you have fun?" he asked. It was more than fun, it was like living a scene straight outta the erotica I've been reading for years. "I really did!" I wagged my tail in content, but something still felt off inside me. I wasn't jealous, seeing the passionate blush glazed over the girls faces was beyond beautiful, I just couldn't figure out if there was something else I wanted.

The lights went out, we went to bed and my eyes were almost shut until he turned around abruptly and gave me a fright.

"Omg I didn't make you cum!!" He said with a sad tone. The sad realization that I was somewhat ignored all night started settling in. He turned on the lights and apologized profusely. I didn't need any of that, I didn't feel any wrong doing but I couldn't tell him that something else was bothering me since I couldn't put my finger on it. Then he pet my head and told me I was a good person.

That was it. All I wanted was the affirmation of my humanity. No pet names, no demeaning terms of endearment. Someone said my name and told me that I was a good person. A person. I was a person, I am one.

Sometimes I lose myself and forget that I'm human. Sometimes I like to provoke others to objectify me up till my beaking point and I convince myself that I'm merely a doll made for people to use, abuse, mark, and ruin; why? Because I'm good at it. I have always been good at it. I was raised in a church and I was raised by corporal punishment. The sting of metal and sharp things are not a new concept.

Humiliation, degradation and insults were part of the package growing up, but being seen as a person was such a foreign idea. There are scars that my heart will never reveal to the world, and there are those who I will forgive, but never forget. People are always bad liars. I used to interpret hellos as "can you do me a favor?" That way of thinking isn't ideal but I was right 99% of the time. A hello would usually mean that someone needs something from you and then toss you aside when they're done. I usually play the game and pretend that I haven't a clue about their intentions but eventually I started timing things out and was disappointed by how short each hello became with every conversation...now I'm wary...

Oh to be on the cycle. My brain hurts. My c*@t is sore. Some of you might just read this and rub one out, whatever. It is what it is.

[waynes-multiverse]

Am I excited for this? YES! How excited? VERY!!!

Gah, I've been really looking forward to this one! Love me some 40s and The Clock! 😍 (One of the reasons why I can't wait for Vought rising lol 👀)

Love how the first line of this story is an easter egg. You never cease to amaze me, Alex 🤓

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

*furrows brow* The Producers?? 🤔

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate. He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other. Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

Oh yes, we all remember that episode. Of course he would 😂 Poor Sam lol

If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

Uh-huh... Dear Lord he needs help 🙈

Btw, I've been doing my own 40s research for a fic and came across the contraception question. Idk why but condoms and methods of that time freak me tf out. Wondering what your experience with that was (if you came across it) lmao 😂

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Ooof so rough 😮‍💨 PTSD and seeing all the dirty shit that goes on during a war is really brutal 😢 (My grandpa was in WWII and told a lot of stories when he was still alive)

And then they were seperated too and didn't even know what happened to the other. Heartbreaking 😭

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

The sass! Already love her 😂🩵

He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair.

*vibes* 😍 (even though I know MMM is set in 1958 lol)

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

You don't know how fucking weak it makes me that he smokes in this. That vice will be the death of me 🫠🔥

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

Aww yeah, Sam's just doing his job. Not easy having a vagina in 1945 and dealing with dicks... 🙄

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

I get abusive vibes from shitty husband. There's more to it than cheating. Either he's emotionally abusive, physically or threathening to be. She seems like she wants to leave quick and quiet, fearing retaliation 👀

I loved how "damn" counted as cursing 😂 (Darn it!)

He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Yes, thank you!!! I knew Dean's spidey senses would turn on. (And I know that darn rat bastard can't hurt her now as long as soldier!Dean's around 💚)

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

Melted 🫠 (I legit die every time I write "Sergeant Shaw" in TCF, but I married a military guy myself, so makes sense I can't resist a uniform and a rank 😂🥵)

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

I love the 1940s cadence, by the way! You can tell it's a different time period the way the characters speak, the words they choose, and how they phrase things. So well done, my friend! 👏👏

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said. “Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

Mama's smelling mob activity... 🤌

���Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.

Such a Dean statement lol

I do hope he won't feel so hopeless for long ☺️

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.” Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.” You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Aww, they could've almost met. I love these little coincidences when people meet each other. It's fate 😍💕

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.”

I feel so bad for her. I hope Sam (and Dean) can help her soon and she can find happiness again 😢❤️‍🩹

“Hmm. No real loss there then.”  Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

The fucking nerve of that man... 🤬

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.”

I'm too busy plotting a gruesome murder in my head to properly get into how much I despise that guy 😂🙈

This was such an amazing start to this series! The storyline is so intriguing and the world-building is, well... simply otherworldly. You really took me on a journey to the 1940s here. Speechless, honestly 🩵

I so can't wait to see what else you have in store with this, but I think there will be lots of yelling from me lol 😅

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: My day tomorrow is going to be a bit packed, so I decided to release this a bit early for you guys! So here we go! The first chapter of yet another new series, my first ever 1940s AU. 🥰 I hope you have fun on this one, because I sure did. Again, very much inspired by The Clock (1945), starring Judy Garland and Robert Walker. 💜

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Cry Me a River” by Ella Fitzgerald

Word Count: 3.9K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, PTSD, historical tidbits

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Part 1: Legal Grounds

November 2, 1945

Dean idly read the pamphlet stacked with others on his brother’s desk, which advertised his new and successful enterprise.

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

What do you know? His brother had his own office, his own business, and his name on a pamphlet.

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate.

He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other.

Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

“So this is what you do, huh?” Dean remarked, crossing his arms.

Without his jacket, his suspenders were on display over his shoulders. His red pinstripe tie was still in place, but his white dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows. Meanwhile, his brother preferred to keep himself more presentable with his sleeves down to his wrists. Jacket on.    

Dean glanced around the office, nodding at the line of bookshelves behind Sam, framing him as the bookish academic he’d always been. There was limited seating in here though, just a spare chair in front of the desk, and another to the right of it. Dean stood on the opposite side.

“If you’re bored, all you have to do is say so,” Sam said. “Which is strange, considering we’re smack dab in the middle of a city that never sleeps.”

He was right, Dean could concede. His little brother had given him a veritable list of things to do in New York City: visit the park, go to the zoo, see a picture show, visit a nightclub, or sample a host of restaurants that Sam knew Dean would probably enjoy.

He’d seen a lot of this place in the week that he’d been here visiting Sam, but a good deal of it he’d either spent alone, or with any willing young lady Dean came across, thanks to the demands of this office. If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

“You don’t get tired of it?” Dean asked, gesturing to the out there beyond them. “The, uh…the lights, the noise, all the people?”

Sam picked his head up from his paperwork to consider the question. “No, I like it. Keeps my mind busy, and…I guess it makes me feel alive, you know?”

Dean supposed he could understand that, so he nodded.

Sam wasn’t fooled though. He thought he could tell what was running through his brother’s head, watching him fidget, and turn his head a bit sharply when a bus honked loudly outside the office’s glass doors as it thundered past.

It had only been two months since the end of the war. Two months since he and Dean met back in their family home in Lawrence, Kansas after three years fighting on two different fronts, in two different countries.

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Their experiences might as well have been worlds apart, but one thing remained the same: it had been three years in which neither brother knew if they’d see each other again.

Now, Sam saw the signs. Dean seemed a bit jumpy, overstimulated, but willing to be here to spend a little more time with Sam before he went back home. Guilt prickled in Sam’s gut. 

“I’ve got some work here to finish up, but afterwards let’s go to dinner,” he suggested. “Maybe see a show?”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smile. “You’re burning both ends of the candle. You know that, right?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a knock on one of the glass doors—at the entrance to the small building. Their heads turned, and through the open door of his office, they spotted you standing there in the evening light. You wore a wide-brimmed hat on your head and a scarf underneath, wrapped over your hair and under your chin to shield your face. You knocked again with a hand covered by a leather glove, more persistently.

Cocking his head in confusion, Sam stood from his desk and left the room to let you in. Dean hung back and sat on the corner of the desk to wait. He withdrew a cigarette from the pack and a lighter from his pocket as he did so, but he heard you talking with his brother by the door.

“I’m sorry. We’re closed, miss,” Sam informed you.

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

“…Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.”

“So can I come in? I need to speak to a lawyer.”

“You sure it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid it can’t, sir.” Your tone was firm, and it more than implied that you wouldn’t be moved. Sam paused then, perhaps to take a steeling breath.

“All right. Come with me, please.”

You later followed behind him through the hallway and into the office. With a lit cigarette between his fingers, his arms crossed, Dean took note of you. He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair. His brows subtly raised. He’d met quite a few girls this week, but he hadn’t seen a lady like you in quite some time.

Should’ve shaved this morning. The thought was accompanied by the way he swiped a subtle hand over his prickly chin.

You gave him a cursory glance in turn, and offered a polite, “Hello.”

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

“Hey there. Dean Winchester,” he said. He offered a smile with no small amount of charm. “Pleased to meet you…”

You dutifully gave him your first name only. He found that a little strange, but you soon slipped your hand out of his and focused on the nameplate on the desk, followed by Sam himself.

“So you’re brothers,” you realized. “Do you work together?”

Dean scoffed. “Nope, I’m just here to distract him.”

Sam tossed him a sidelong glance. There was a subtle edge of bitter truth in there somewhere, and you didn’t seem to miss it. You looked between the two men, a hint wary.

“Well, as I said, I’m here to speak to the solicitor,” you said. 

“That would be me,” Sam nodded. He went to his desk and sat down behind it, gesturing for you to do the same in front of him. You obliged him, smoothing your hands down your skirt once you were seated. “How can I help you?”

You met his eyes with a directness that surprised him a little.

“I want to divorce my husband,” you said.

To say it shocked the room would be an understatement. Behind you, Dean gave his brother a pair of raised brows. Sam didn’t allow himself to react too much in order to remain professional, but he still tilted his head, blinking, before he focused on you again.

“What’s your husband’s name?” he asked.

“Michael. Michael Milligan.”

“Why do you want a divorce, Mrs. Milligan?” 

Here, your gaze fell to the folded hands in your lap. 

“I have reason to believe he’s been unfaithful,” you quietly replied.

Once again, there was a pregnant pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said. His sympathy was genuine, because he could see the way you’d hesitated to say the words, like they embarrassed you, shamed you, and saddened you all at once. 

“But I have to ask,” he added, “do you have proof?”

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

You sighed. “What kind of proof?” 

“Pictures. Letters. A witness. Something of legal standing that we can use as leverage and as grounds to grant you a divorce, whether he wants it or not,” Sam said. 

You let out another heavy breath through your nose. “No, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Then what makes you so sure he’s steppin’ out?” Dean chimed in. By now he was leaning against the wall, off to the side where he could smoke with the window cracked open. It let in the sounds of cars and distant honking, people traversing the sidewalks. 

You turned in your seat to give him a tight look. “If you must know, there’ve been…signs. I won’t trouble you with the details, but I’m sure.”

You met Dean’s gaze, and then Sam’s firmly. 

“So will you help me?” you asked him. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I’ll look into your husband and try to find some evidence of his…extracurricular affairs.”

Your lips pursed. “And how long will it take?”

Since you were being so direct, Sam levelled you with honesty.

“It may take time,” he said. “Realistically, we’re looking at months, even after I find what we need… It would be easier to legally separate.”

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

“Mr. Winchester,” you began. “I don’t want to just be separated. I don’t want to live in our apartment, let alone share his bed or wear his last name.”

Despite your best efforts, your voice began to shake. Tears welled up and stung in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from him, other than his signature on the damn papers,” you said. “The case is that I can no longer tolerate that man in my sight, much less in my life. Will you help me? Or should I look for another lawyer who will actually do his job.”

Sam and Dean shared a glance. For his part, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman curse. Despite your outburst, the tears clinging to your lashes stirred both men.

“I understand, Mrs. Milligan,” Sam said. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”

He began to look for his handkerchief, but you retrieved one of your own from your purse and quickly dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. You were embarrassed.

“What about your fee?” you said, withdrawing your checkbook. “I, um…I have a little money stashed away. I’ve always worked, you see.”

Sam nodded and went over what his rate would be going forward. Once the two of you came to an agreement, you signed the first check right then and there, even though he felt bad for even taking it from you.

You were still sniffling, and twice you dabbed under your eyes to make sure your face was dry. When you handed over the check, your hands shook, just a little. Sam wouldn’t tell you that he discounted his usual rate.  

Again, he mentioned that he would need some time first to investigate your husband and begin collecting evidence for your case. He asked you for any documents you could safely bring him of your finances, for example. You agreed to do an investigation of your own.

“Just be careful,” Dean cautioned. He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Dean put out the bud of his cigarette on the ashtray lying on the windowsill. He pushed off the wall to approach where you and Sam were getting to your feet. You gave Dean a nod of acknowledgement.

“I will,” you agreed. “Thank you both. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time, but I’ll be heading home now.”

“Did you take a bus or a taxi?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I walked,” you replied, and you checked your watch as you gathered up your purse. You headed for the coatrack, but Dean got there first, helping you into your beige wool coat. It went nicely with the burgundy you had on, namely on your painted lips.

“Thank you,” you said to him, but you still didn’t smile. You were a hint demurer now. It seemed with Sam’s promised help, the fire had dimmed behind your eyes and your tongue.

“How about I give you an escort, make sure you get home okay?” Dean found himself offering. “It’s getting pretty late on a Friday.”

Sam shot him a knowing look, but Dean ignored him, instead focusing on your face.

You hesitated. “It’s a bit far though. Out of your way, I’m sure.”

“All the more reason that you shouldn’t go it alone at this time of night,” he argued.

You considered his offer, and him, with a quick perusal. You seemed to be judging for yourself if he was trustworthy. Dean kept his posture straight, yet relaxed. Maybe he’d liked what he saw the moment he took you in, but after hearing your situation, he felt for you. It really was just an honest offer to walk you home.

“Where did you serve?” you asked. “The Army, the Navy, or the Air Forces?”

The question took him off guard for a beat, but he answered you.

“The Army,” he replied.

“Your rank?”

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

You looked at him a little more shrewdly, then you relaxed.

“I might’ve guessed,” you said. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s go then.”

You buttoned up your coat and turned to leave the office. Dean shot his little brother a raise of his brows and a what do ya know? kind of smile. He grabbed his dark brown jacket and hat and followed you out.

Sam’s smile was more reserved, with a shake of his head. He closed the door behind you and Dean and locked it. He still had some work he wanted to finish before tomorrow, and Dean’s little show of chivalry would give him time to do it.

Dean had his hands in his coat pockets as he walked with you down the long city sidewalk. Night had drawn into the November sky, but with all these lights, he couldn’t see many stars. It was also cold as all hell. The frigid wind slapped at him every time they turned the corner of a building, snapping right into his bones.

Still, he supposed there was a kind of attractiveness to the city at night. The stores and their signs were all lit up gold and other neon colors. Couples and families walked together, all done up nice for wherever dinner reservation or movie they were trying to get to. It begged the question of what your husband was doing right now if he didn’t notice his wife out at this time of night.

“Where’s your husband tonight, if I might ask?” said Dean.

You shot him a look, reading between his lines.

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

Dean tried not to show how much your words resonated with him. He didn’t think it a good thing to have common ground with your husband, if he was the kind of man you said he was.

“Yeah? What’s his business?” he asked.

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said.

“Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

“You’d presume right.”

Dean nodded. “I get it. I inherited the family home back in Lawrence. I just need to figure out what’s next.”

“Lawrence?”

“Kansas.”

“Oh, the Midwest,” you inclined your head. “What’s it like there?”

Dean scoffed. “Dusty.”

You almost laughed at that. At least it earned him your first smile of the night.

“Do you have an idea of what you’ll do for work?” you asked.

Dean chuckled. “Not just yet. Didn’t plan that far, you know?”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.  

You turned to him then, and you saw it behind his eyes. The two of you walked in silence for a little while as the neighborhood blocks began to shift and change, becoming somewhat quieter, more residential. Dean put himself between you and the sidewalk when a taxi zoomed by too close to the curb, resting a hand on the small of your back for protection.

Part of you trilled inside at the small touch, but you immediately beat that reaction down. Dean Winchester was an attractive man, to be sure. His hair was a lighter brown than his brother’s, and shorter too. He had an air of roguishness about him, even though he’d been perfectly pleasant so far.

But by the way he eyed you when you came into the law office, you had a strong feeling he was a flirt. You had no room for that in your life, and not only because you were still a married woman.

Yet, there was something about him that…well, made you curious.

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.”

Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.”

You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Dean let out a short, if humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s where I was. At that time, at least,” he said. You gave him a similar look; respect, and perhaps finding a kindred spirit.

“I did what I could do before, during, and afterwards,” you said. “I think that’s all we can do now, Mr. Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he said. “If you like.”

A second smile almost tugged at your lips. You nodded in agreement.

“Dean,” you said.

In another ten minutes, he was walking you up to your porch at your apartment building. You travelled up the four small steps, while Dean stopped at the second one. For the first time, you had the vantage point above him as you turned on your heel to face him. You were about to thank him when he shook his head, scoffing.

“This guy must be dumb, deaf, and blind, sweetheart,” he said.

Your face warmed in a blush, and you gave a rueful smile when you realized what he meant. He was looking up at you like someone who couldn’t understand your plight. You knew the feeling.

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to do that,” you said.  

His brows furrowed. “Do what?” 

“Try to make me feel better,” you said, scuffing the toe of your sensible heels against the brick platform. Dean crossed his arms. 

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.” 

It took him a moment, but Dean nodded.

“I guess that’s fair,” he said. He had to stop himself before he proved your point with a smart word on your pretty smile. Although, it wouldn’t have been a lie. He tipped his hat up. “Goodnight then, Mrs. Milligan.” 

You stopped him from leaving with just your voice. 

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

He gave you a charming grin and a more casual soldier’s salute. Then he stuck his hands back in his pockets, turned on his heel, and began to walk back the way he came. You couldn’t help but watch him go for a second or two. His legs were slightly bowed under his slacks, you noticed.

With a blush, you shook your head to rid yourself of those silly thoughts. You closed the door.

That night, Michael came home late, as usual—this time at two in the morning. He reeked of alcohol, also per usual, but this time when he rolled over towards you in bed to say goodnight, you stiffened. He also smelled like a woman’s perfume. Expensive stuff. 

This was one of those signs you hadn’t wanted to tell Sam Winchester. Frankly, it was crude and embarrassing.

“Sorry it’s so late, darling. Got held up,” he said, kissing your shoulder through your nightgown. His fingers played with the ends of your hair while you laid facing away from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You were fighting every instinct you had inside you that wanted to recoil from his touch and bolt out of the bed. When just a few months ago, his touch was all you craved, almost desperately so. 

“Where were you?” you asked. Somehow, you kept your voice steady and calm. “You weren’t at the office all this time.”

“Had a couple of drinks with the guys after,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. The night got away from us, but, uh…I’ll be home on time for dinner tomorrow.”

With your back turned to him, you were able to roll your eyes.

“What’d you make tonight, outta curiosity?” he asked.

“Egg salad sandwiches,” you replied flatly. 

“Hmm. No real loss there then.” 

Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

Michael paused, but then, he grasped your shoulder, slowly turned you around in the bed until you were facing him. His face was sterner. 

“Excuse me?” 

You remained quiet. Your gaze travelled downwards, avoiding his.

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.” 

He turned his back on you, laying on his side. You did the same while trying to stem your tears.

When did this become your life?

AN: Oof, sorry for all that angst at the end there, but I hope you liked the first chapter! Did you enjoy soldier!Dean and soldier/lawyer!Sam? Do you want to find a dark alley for Michael yet? 😅

And are you ready for what's coming up next? 😘

Next Time:

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

Read Part 2 on Patreon! || Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 2/14

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@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @thebiggerbear

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @impala-dreamer

[nyasbrain]

Week 3: The Rise and Fall of the IT Girl Water Bottle

My water bottle is my best friend. She is the thing I cling to when I'm anxious. She is adorned with stickers of funny sayings, Sanrio characters, and charms hanging off the loops. She is more familiar with my mouth than any of my exes. She is an expression of myself, and I carry her with me everywhere I go.

I don't know about you, but I have a few best friends, and I've had best friends for different stages of my life. My childhood best friend is not my current best friend. In middle school, I had two best friends who hated each other. I didn't meet my high school best friend until sophomore or junior year, and while we were vastly different, we just clicked.

Now, I have two best friends. One I met in college and one I met at work of all places. When I think of all my best friends, they're different from one another but they each have traits that make them MY best friend at the time.

What makes a best friend? Best friends are durable, leakproof, well-insulated, and portable. You may be thinking it doesn't sound like you're talking about best friends anymore, and you'd be correct.

Let's talk about BIG Water.

We all know water, which is free from Mother Earth to us, has been commodified. What once was for hikers and athletes, excessive water consumption, is now for 9-5ers sitting in their cubical trying to hit 80 oz a day to meet their water goal. I have no room to judge, (even though I am) as the proud owner of three insulated water bottles and someone who strives to drink 80 oz of water a day, but let's talk about how we got here.

Picture this, you get through airport security and you're PARCHED. TSA made you dump out your freshly filled water bottle, there is no refill station in sight, and your plane boards in 10 minutes. Lucky for you, next to your gate is a Hudson, and you are met with this:

The questions on everyone's lips: why the fuck are there 10 different water bottle options and why are they all $9.00?

In 2024, humans around the globe drank more than 450 billion liters of bottled water. In the United States, it costs around 1,163 dollars a year to drink the recommended 64 oz of bottled water. I'm emphasizing bottled water with BIG anything, we're talking corporate, and in the case of corporate water, man do we have a waste issue.

In 1960 bottled water hit America by way of pharmacies as a niche health product mostly marketed to pregnant people. If you wanted water, you went to the tap, filled your glass, and went on your way. No Brita, no problem.

In 1976 a hot new bombshell entered the villa. Perrier. Always popular in France but new to America, the brand is marketed as "The earth's first soft drink" (honestly, this would have got me). Perrier hires the guy who took Levi from farm to fashion and in three years Perrier goes from 600 thousand dollars in sales to 60 million dollars.

Of course, with capitalism comes competition (or so they say), and Evian switches from Mommy and Me distilled water to a "lifestyle accessory" (more on this later). From 1976-1985, BIG Water transforms from a 1 billion dollar industry to a 5 billion dollar industry. Bottled water sales double, Chanel even makes a water bottle holder for their spring 1994 collection (which you can still buy for $6,861+shipping).

In comes BIG soda. Pepsi (1994) and Coca-Cola (1999) came out with what is still known as the worst water imaginable, Dasani and Aquafina. Here, they set the new and worst standard for water, purified water. Where Perrier and Evian are spring water from natural springs in France, Dasani and Aquafina (and most if not all purified water) is tap water, put through reverse osmosis.

Now, I'm not knocking bottled water. Countries, including this one, rely on bottled water due to poor water quality and limited access. Michigan has still not replaced all the lead pipes in Flint, they have been relying on plastic water bottles for 10 years to drink, shower, cook, and live. I don't think we're anywhere close to banning single-use plastic water bottles like that have in Bundanoon, but we should be conscious of how much plastic we use.

In 2018, Americans alone bought 71 BILLION plastic water bottles. Which is enough to stack to the moon 37 times. And these plastic bottles use energy to make, enough energy to fuel your car for 2 million years. 91% of plastic isn't recyclable and all 71 billion water bottles need somewhere to go and that somewhere is in the ocean, in the landfill, or shipped to developing countries.

According to current market projections, the global water bottle market is set to reach around 400 billion dollars. The reusable water bottle currently makes up $9.67 of the industry.

The IT Girl water bottle

We've done water history in America, BIG Water is a scam and excessive plastic use is bad, let's move on to the reusable water bottle. As Evian predicted, drinking water has become a lifestyle brand. Water bottles are beyond a vessel, they show your personality, your age, and, dare I say your values???

I want to talk briefly about each bottle.

Nalgene is the mommy of the reusable water bottle. Plastic, wide-mouthed, and affordable, she is popular amongst the athletic crowd. She had her moment from 1970-2015 when people decided they didn't want water stains on their shirts anymore.

Contigo: A simplistic queen, Contigo is like Nalgene on Ozempic. They still have a hard plastic shell but are slim and have a straw for easy sipping. Good for the field, but not a long hike.

Camelbak: A Contigo clone, Camelbak water bottles are still the popular corporate printed water bottle. I think Camelbak was the last of the outdoor/sports adjacent water bottles.

While all three brands are portal and durable, they do not fit my insulation standard. If I'm on a hike and my water is hot within the first hour, my hike is ruined. I will give these three major credit when it comes to suitability. They all have clear impact and sustainability statements on their websites and that's what reusable water bottles are all about.

S'well: The magnum opus of the IT girl water bottle. She is insulated, colorful, and makes a loud sound when it falls. Attention whore much?

Hydroflask: Sksksk save the turtles. The VSCO girl water bottle lives! Combining everything we love about Nalgene and S'well into one, plus they gave her a straw!

Yeti: Short-lived, for the IT girls who are also moms.

Stanley: She rose like a phoenix from the ashes, the Stanley made a name for herself amongst all the girls. Moms, 9-5ers, gym girlies, everyone wanted a Stanly cup (not me though).

Owala: The current it girl, Owala, and its free sip technology blew the brain of every water bottle lover. I would say she's the true mix between S'well and Hydroflask

Unfortunately, the introduction and popularity of the insulated water bottle drove overconsumption. These IT girl water bottles have all the traits that make for a best friend. Durable, leakproof, well-insulated, and portable (unless you're a Stanley). The water bottle transformed from a vessel into something of status and culture. You need to be rich to have a cup collection, you need to be "in the know" to get the special drops.

There are drops for holidays, and collaborations with corporations, I mean what if you don't get your ultra-limited edition E.L.F x Stanly cup?! This overconsumption leads to mass disposal when the next tread cycle comes around which creates significant harm. Iron must be mined and smelted, and if you think companies aren't using excessive exploitation, you're delusional. These processes cause damage to wildlife and generate CO2 emissions, not to mention shipment and packaging. Owala doesn't have a sustainability message on its website.

All trash needs to go somewhere and while you may think you're being a mindful consumer because "at least it's not plastic" know it all ends up in a landfill anyway. BIG Water has been scamming Americans since its debut. Being on trend is fun, overconsumption is not. In a time when corporations don't need to do anything but have pretty packaging to get your money, I urge you to think before you buy.

A few years ago, I watched an episode of History 101 on bottled water that BLEW my mind and is still the inspiration for this post.

[youve-doomed-us-all-jerk]

ok after sleeping on it i think DAV is a good game, a fun game on its own, as a sequel to where the series was left previously i dont think it reaches great unfortunately, def is hard to separate it from the mythical perfect sequel that whether you try to or not ends up forming in your head after 10 yrs of waiting, even if you wanna be delusional about them working on it for all of those 10 yrs and ignore the multiple layoffs and restarts the game had to go through cuz corporate greed lmao

long as hell spoiler-ish ramblings:

gotta say i did genuinely like the combat system and wouldnt mind if they stuck with and refined it for any sequels (if we get any lmao🥴) helps that i wasnt super attached to the other 3 games combat, didnt dislike em didnt hate em either, but def enjoyed this one more they mentioned multiple times that they didnt wanna repeat of how little cory mattered to inky in inquisition and with this game id say they succeeded with solas and rook, def felt that relationship with rook which made me tricking him with my rogue and the fake dagger p satisfying for the finale, def gonna see what the other endings have in store did do a lil gasp when they actually answered the big question about where the blight comes from and im p satisfied with the answer, never would have seen it coming and felt great having dwarf lore take a front seat on that regard, especially since i was playing a dwarf lmao, still does kinda center elf lore though while making everyone elses feel a little second fiddle (like tevinter didnt have any gods apparently lmao, which i guess is alright since they enslaved the elves, still funny how they were still unwilling to touch andraste lore more on that later lmao)

also like i mentioned 3rd act was v cinematic and epic, the assigning everyone to roles was tuff as hell and gave me goosebumps, also helps define rook from just being "a guy" to the mortal who bested the dreadwolf

liked all the companions but, wouldnt say theyre frictionless, though lucanis seems to be in the thick of a lot of it (dav and lace warn/threaten him and emmerich treats him like a subject of study etc.) while taash and emmerich had a little problem that can get resolved p easily, but yeah theyre not frictionless but i think their a little less catty haha, some sexy drama wouldnt have been a problem of all the companions quests and development did think lace's was my fav, execution i think they could have pushed the idea a little harder, but the themes of being the "agreeable outsider" and learning to let the anger for your culture is valid was p good, i saw the vision and the sauce other quick thoughts on the others was, not sure what to make of lucanis other than family intrigue fun drama though, neve was v much batman coded lmao, davrin was every "i dont want to take care of a dog" dad who ends up taking care of the dog the most was sweet, felt emmerichs wholes "live forever or watch the next gen grow" probably will even more the older i get lmao, might need to replay it but bellaras whole thing connecting the memory and idea of her brother to how the memory and idea of cultures long lost is interesting but thought it was shaky considering one of the options was forget the culture all together lmao. think i mentioned b4 but yeah taashs was idk again dont have the unique relationship with multiple cultures and how the intersect with gender, seen one person say they werent a fan but thats just one, will say the qun has always had a weird space in DA and this is just another addition to that lmao, until we get a game that centers the protag and majority of the characters plot in the qun where we can see it redefined/upheld/broken/reformed by its multiple characters who reach different answers like they do with the maker stuff it might just always feel like the that scary veiled foreigner religion (though am interested in taashs story hinting at more to come for them so here we go again)

other stuff that i was meh about exploration def didnt hit like past games tbh, they said they didnt wanna do what they did with the hinterlands again but they may have streamlined too much, dont have the gamer knowledge to point out what it was but yeah wasnt too fun searching every nook n cranny for stuff, idk maybe felt like the puzzles were too few and side quests were to simple to encourage me too look around, still did though for loot ofc lmao yeah big 🤧for the fact so little of past games influence this one, i dont really want any cbm jangling keys cameos but id argue leaving your mark in previous games and seeing their outcomes in this one was a big part of the series identity, and even with the inquisition stuff felt like, why even ask which character other than solas did inky romance if it wasnt gonna be brought up at all lmao😂 another thing is just dropped plot points, like that the blight got pushed forward, but the fact we went to minrathous and didnt learn anything about the black divine? this one is a little weirder but they just dropped the mage/minority plot point, like tbh im a little softer on that one cuz its a bad allegory lmao like somehow the x-men one works this one doesnt lmao i genuinely couldnt see an answer for this plot point that isnt "veil come down now everyone has magic, cuz if everyones has a buke, no one is" cold war type shit lmao still it just disappearing definitely felt felt

also hero of ferelden should have appeared for the "blight to end all blights" idk let up spend another hour in the CC and also thought they was looking for a cure for the calling??? i mean they didnt cure the calling by the end i dont think but still, update maybe? yrs r uh getting up there lmao still enjoyed myself a lot but yeah some swings and scope just wasnt wide enough to make the game super great so for now 7/10 hope we get a dlc, every other DA game got one so this one too bls🙏🏽