#i hate the west i hate the west i hate the west

[burningchandelier]

One time at a Communist convention in the mountains of Appalachia, I drank a jar of moonshine in a hot tub, in my underwear. It did taste like pie.

I spent the rest of the weekend on a bender which I mostly don’t remember, except for some key moments:

Hooking up with a cutie in an improperly, hastily pitched tent.

That same tent later blowing into a lake

The wrapper for a single, chocolate flavored condom floating to the surface of the lake after the tent sank.

Getting a very sketchy tattoo

Passionately singing protest songs

A guy who I had an incredibly toxic love/hate relationship with giving a speech

Destroying that speech past redemption by loudly sneezing and farting at the same time.

So if some guys who run a free restaurant hand you a mason jar of moonshine in the mountains of West Virginia while you’re sitting in a hot tub… drink responsibly. You’re going to get so fucked up.

One time in my early 20s I got really drunk at a party where someone handed me a stein full of what turned out to be moonshine from a barrel in some guy's garage and said "try this it tastes like pie" and a) it DID taste like pie, but b) only on the way down, not on the way back up, given it was something like 120 proof -- so my memories of the next couple hours are very vague but involve a bunch of ex-football players from South Boston walking me around the block in circles handing me bottled water trying to sober me up, and eventually because I was too shitfaced to get home but no longer puking my guts up and dying I crawled into the back of my car to sleep it off in a sleeping bag I kept there; but there was a guy at the party who was also sleeping in his car and this was Boston in the fall so it was like 40ºF out at night and anyway this other guy I met at this party who was a middle aged mercenary from liverpool who had served in the french foreign legion or something ended up knocking on my car door asking if he could huddle with me for warmth and I said yeah okay but there's only room for me in the sleeping bag so don't be weird about it, and to his credit he was not weird and we just slept in my car and in the morning he asked if I wanted brekkie and bought me dunkin donuts while I nursed the worst hangover I have ever had in my life then or since and trying to figure out whose heavy metal hoodie I was wearing and how I managed to leave this party with more clothing than I arrived in.

So if someone singing pirate shanties hands you a stein of mysterious liquid and tells you it tastes like pie, probably don't chug that shit.

[itsonlyjoseph]

Make Me Hurt || Eddie Munson x Reader

synopsis: Y/N lives her life coping torment from Eddie Munson day in and day out, but after a certain encounter, everything changes

warnings: Bully!Eddie, angst,

word count: 4.5k

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The fluorescent over head lights bounced off the white linoleum and burned into your eyeballs. It was currently 8:30 am and the morning rush of Hawkins High School had already began.

People gathered in their cliques around the parking lot and in the halls. Cheerleaders, jocks, band geeks, honour roll student, slackers, stoner, all of them.

You were by yourself, obviously, as you trudged your way down the hall towards your locker. You hated this school for many reasons. The food, the facilities, the people. Actually, mainly just one person. Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson... were to begin...

He was a tall, dark, metalhead who hated everyone and everything and he made it known. Eddie wasn't popular by any means. He too was an outcast. Him and his friends dubbed satanists and cultists by everyone around them, and even though you too were an outcast, you were an even bigger loser than him. He made it known that you were dirt beneath his dirty white sneakers. Sure, he'd felt that way about everyone but for some unknown reason, it was personal with you. He made your entire high school career a living, breathing hellscape.

You didn't even know what you did to him to make him target you personally. You had barely ever spoken to him, aside from when you had to. Eddie wasn't the most approachable guy so people rarely went up to him unless they were looking to end the day with less teeth. He was happy get into his fair share of school yard fights.

You felt the atmosphere change as your ears perked up at the familiar sound of sneakers slapping the floor. You sighed out an already exhausted breath, just knowing that today would be no different than any other day.

Just as the footsteps got closer, you felt a large, rough hand grip your shoulder and swing you around. You came face to face with Eddie's broad chest, making you look up timidly to his his sneering face staring you down. He had a look of hatred that always sent a wave of anxiety and sadness through you.

What did I ever do to you?

"Hi." You squeaked out, meekly.

"I told you to keep your shit out of the Hellfire room." He seethed.

Ah, yes. The Hellfire room. An empty class room down in the west wing that Eddie and his friends occupied every day. No one knew what actually happened in there. Many people said they did their devil stuff in there. Once, someone even said they sacrificed a baby lamb in there. You didn't believe that one. Much.

"But I haven't been down there." You tried to defend yourself. Eddie didn't care. His fist came up and collided with the locker behind your head before he walked away.

You didn't know what stuff Eddie was talking about. You really hadn't been down there. At least not with any item to leave behind. Maybe he just wanted a reason to torment you.

Eddie wasn't the only person that tormented you. You also had to cop it from the jocks and cheerleaders. They called you names, kicked your bag across the room, tripped you, the usual nasty high school stuff.

It was different with Eddie. It didn't feel like the typically high school bullying. It felt worse. Angrier. Meaner.

The school day felt like it was dragging on, they way it did every day for you. Every day was the same. School. Eddie. Work. Repeat. It was draining. Your parents expected the most out of you and wouldn't settle for anything less.

Lunch was your favourite period because you could disappear for a while and be by yourself. You could take a breath. Typically, you sat in the library or behind the gym but considering the heavy rainfall today, you sat in the library.

The library was only ever littered with dorks and the quiet kids. They never spoke to you but you felt safe with them. It was almost impossible to find one of the popular kids in the library. Even less of a chance of seeing Eddie in here.

The rain pelted heavy against the windows as you found your usual spot under the staircase. You sat on an old beanbag and were surrounded my bookcases. You were pretty undetectable here. Opening your sack lunch and the book you were currently reading, you settled in. You were calm and happy, not a care in the world for the next 45 minutes. Or so you thought.

The library doors squeaked open after a few minutes but you paid no mind. Until you heard that all too familiar voice.

Your eyes widened, half in fear and half in exhaustion. You had never encounter Eddie in here but now this little slice of solitude was tainted.

From your place under the staircase, you had a perfectly hidden view of where Eddie was standing. He was being looked down at by Principal Higgins and it seemed like he was being reprimanded for something. For the first time in your whole life, Eddie looked almost… Scared? Beaten down? Nervous? Sad?

You couldn’t quite tell.

“Listen, Munson. I want you out of my school more than anyone but I have half a mind to keep you back again. Teach you a lesson on respect. You think people like you go far in life? You think your dad got very far?” You listened to Principle Higgins berate Eddie whilst he stood there and took it. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost feel bad for him.

“Keep in line or I’ll ruin what little chance you have at a future.” Principal Higgins threatened before taking a breath and stepping forward. “And don’t think I won’t enjoy it.”

He finally left after that last comment and Eddie stood still, a completely unreadable look on his hard face. Your place under the stairs hid you just enough to keep looking at him and analysing him.

You saw Eddie take a deep breath and rub his forehead with the back of his hand. Suddenly, your hiding spot was sorely revealed when the little foam balls in your bean bag shifted, making a rather loud sound.

Eddie turned his head slowly to the source of the noise, his face turning from unreadable to angry the moment he spotted you.

With wide eyes, you whipped your head back round to completely hide your body from view. You took a few deep breaths to calm your racing nerves.

In a few seconds, Eddie would most likely round the corner of the staircase and rip your book from your hands, screaming at you until you cried.

But he didn’t. Eddie didn’t round the corner to yell at you. Nothing.

You braved another look the where Eddie was standing and saw that he was gone. That was definitely odd. You’d accidentally heard Eddie getting in trouble and he didn’t do anything about it. He just left.

Maybe he was taking Principle Higgins words seriously and actually keeping himself in line. Maybe that meant no more bullying.

After a short while, the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. You’d packed up your items and stuffed them back into your bag, distracted. For once, your mind was elsewhere. You weren’t scared of walking around the school like you normally were.

Placing your Walkman over your ears and turning it on, the sound of Fleetwood Mac flowing through your ears, you walked out of the library humming along. Your mind of occupied with thoughts of what you’d do after work tonight, what pyjamas you’d wear to bed, what movie you’d watch along tonight.

You were blissfully unaware of the looming presence behind you.

Eddie had waiting for you outside the library to give you a piece of his mind for eavesdropping on him like that.

Just before you could turn down an empty hallway, you felt a rough hand come down harshly on the shoulder, yanking you back against a wall with a yelp.

Eddie ripped the Walkman from around your ears and out of your pocket and smashed it on the ground. You watched the little pieces of plastic spread out on the floor around your feet.

“Why are you always lurking somewhere, huh?” Eddie yelled in your face. “That was my business!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You pleading, Eddie’s hands pressing your shoulders roughly into the wall and tears welling up in your eyes.

Eddie was pressing you into the wall so hard, your feet just barely scraped the ground.

“You shouldn’t have heard that!” He continued. The anger intensifying.

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. You had tears streaming down your face as you looked up at Eddie with wide, unblinking eyes and for a moment all Eddie could see was his mother, terrified and pleading for his father not to hurt her. “Please don’t hurt me Eddie.”

Eddie’s hands loosened for just a moment. “I’m not my dad!” He shouted and stepped back, stomping off down the hall and leaving you all alone.

You fell to the floor in a crying heap and tried to catch your breath.

Sure, Eddie had been tormenting you for years. Saying all kinds of nasty things but never once had he gotten physical. Eddie pushing you against the wall didn’t necessarily hurt but you were scared that he wanted to hit you.

You also weren’t sure what he meant when he said he wasn’t his dad. You’d heard Principal Higgins talk about Eddie’s dad just before but you didn’t know the extent of it.

After you’d wiped your tears and calmed down, you gathered up the pieces of your smashed Walkman and shoved it back into the front of your bag.

You’d cycled to school that day and decided for the first time ever, you’d skip. Beat the rush and go home for a few hours before work tonight. You might even call in sick.

At home, your dad was sitting in the armchair in front of the TV when you’d walked through the door.

“Hey Button, what are you doing home so early?” Your dad wondered. He was a gentle man with a pot belly and kind eyes.

“Oh, I just wasn’t feeling too hot. I think I might be approaching my ladies days. I just wanted to relax a bit before work.” You lied. You never lied to your dad.

“Okay, baby. You feel better soon.”

“Thanks dad.”

In your room, you placed the pieces of Walkman on your desk, along with the equally broken tape. It was your favourite.

You’d spent 65 dollars of your hard earned money on that thing and another 8 dollars on the Fleetwood Mac tape.

Lying down on your bed, you snuggled into yourself and just stared at the wall. For some reason, you felt bad for Eddie Munson. Sure, you didn’t deserve the things he said to you but you didn’t have to be genius to see that he was troubled. He probably had a bad home life and was taking his anger out on others.

You shouldn’t feel bad but you did. It was your best and worst quality. You felt things too deeply. No matter how terrible someone seems to be, you can’t help but feel sorry for them and want to help them and protect them from whatever’s hurting them. You wished whatever pain was inside Eddie’s head, you could transfer over to you so he didn’t have to feel that way.

Your eyes began to get heavier and heavier and soon enough the next thing you know, it’s pitch black outside and a patch of drool coats your cheek. You’d fallen asleep. You felt a little better but considering the sky was dark, you’d missed work today.

You rolled over and looked at the bright red numbers on your alarm clock.

3:19 am.

You definitely missed work tonight. Oh well, you decided you’d just give them a call tomorrow and explain that you were sick. Surely, they’d understand. You were a good enough worker that they wouldn’t think you just bailed.

The next morning, your opens opened to the sound of your dad gently tapping on your door. Looking over at the clock, you saw that it was now 8:30 am.

“Hey sweetie. How are you feeling?” Your dad asked as he opened the door.

For a moment, you forgot. You forgot that Eddie wanted to hurt you. You forgot your broken Walkman and you forgot the look of hatred in his face.

“Uh.. I’m not sure. My stomach hurts still.” You wheezed out. You added a fake little cough for good measure.

“Alright, you rest up and I’ll call Principal Higgins. I might even stop by Scoops and get you a sundae.” Your dad smiled down at you. You smiled back up at him. He was so kind and he was such a good dad. It made your mind go back to Eddie’s dad. You wondered what he was like.

“Thanks dad.”

Your dad closed your bedroom door and you rolled back over to face the wall again.

You couldn’t feel Eddie’s hands on your shoulders anymore but you remember exactly what it was like.

“God, why does he hate me so much?” You mumbled quietly to yourself.

A day later, it was Saturday. You had never been more thankful for the weekend. You were working at the diner tonight, thankfully, and you had a few hours before your shift started.

Standing in front of your vanity, you brushed out your hair and applied your favourite blue eyeshadow lightly across your lids. Your typical shift went from 5pm up until 12:30am.

It was a long and tiresome shift but you appreciated the money and liked having something to do on your free days. You also had your fair share of loyal customers that you enjoyed seeing and speaking to.

Riding your bike to the diner probably wasn’t the safest considering you left after midnight, but you didn’t have another option. You didn’t own a car and you didn’t want to ask your dad to stay awake for you.

Pulling your uniform out of your wardrobe, you placed the pale yellow dress over your body and tided the frilly white apron around your waist.

Downstairs, your dad was already snoozing in the armchair as the 4 o’clock news played quietly in the background. Placing your keys and lipgloss into your purse, you made your way outside to your bike.

The diner was quiet, as usual. Only a few older guys here and there. Putting your belongings down in the back, you made your way out start your shift.

You noticed your favourite regular sat at the diner bar sipping his coffee quietly and reading the paper.

“Afternoon, Wayne.” You smiled at him.

He looked up and smiled brightly behind his moustache. “Hey there, sweet thing.”

Wayne was a regular for a long time and even though you’d only been working at the diner for a few months, the two of you chatted like old pals every time you saw each other. You talked about movies and music and occasionally talked about work and school but not often.

“Overnight, tonight?” You asked as you topped up his coffee.

“Same as every night. How’s school.”

“Schools whatever.” You mumbled.

“That still giving you a hard time?”

“Is the sky blue?”

Wayne mused.

“You know, if I’ve learnt anything in my time here on earth, boys pick on girls they like.”

You huffed outa breath as if to laugh.

“Nah, I doubt it.”

“Never know.”

“I guess but, this feels different. Just the way he looks at me.”

“Well, maybe there’s something else going on. Maybe he’s troubled or scared of his feelings.”

You looked up at Wayne and noticed he had a sympathetic look on his face.

“Okay love guru.” You laughed. “You hungry yet?”

Wayne smiled and looked over the menu once more before speaking.

“No, just the coffee tonight. I gotta pick up my nephew before I head to work. Lost his license again.” Wayne said as he finished off his coffee and stood.

“Uh, of course.” You replied. You’d heard vaguely about this mystery relative of his. I’ll you knew was that he got himself into trouble and they were each others only family.

Wayne dropped a five dollar bill on the counter and smiled before walking out. It was 4 dollars and 30 cents too much but Wayne had already left by the time you realised.

The rest of the shift was boring and uneventful, as usual and by the time 12:30am rolled around, you smelled like burnt coffee and bacon grease. No wonder you had little blackheads on your chin.

“Okay bye Al!” You called out to the line cook as you mounted your bike.

The weather was cooling off as the summer was coming to an end but it was still nice enough weather to not need a jacket after midnight. It was times this like when you wished you had friends to hang out with and go to parties with.

You took your usual route home but considering it was past midnight on a Saturday, the few dive bars around town were crowded with people. The bar that was on your way home was called The Hideout. It was a sketchy biker bar that housed the towns drunks and heavy metal enthusiasts.

Cycling past, you peered over and felt your stomach drop when you saw who was standing around a group of scary looking guys, all smoking.

It Eddie.

The very same Eddie that you had seen since he pushed you up against the wall.

Coming to a stop on your bike, you needed to catch your breath. You were on the other side of the street and it was dark so you figured it wouldn’t see you but he did. He looked right at you.

His face soften as if he was recognising you. He held an unreadable expression as he stubbed out his cigarette.

The exchange only lasted a moment before you turned back to the road and peddled on down the road and towards home.

For the next several days at school, you’d managed to avoid Eddie at all costs. You saw glimpses of the back of his head or his shoulder but managed to sneak away completely unseen by him.

Normally you hated it when he was mean to you because it hurt your feelings but now you were scared of him. You didn’t really know if he was capable of hurting you physically but you didn’t like to think about it.

You hid in the library or down in the lower levels and raced home afterwards.

You had another late shift on Wednesday after school so instead of going home you decided to take your uniform to school with you and just get your homework done during the quiet periods.

Wayne hadn’t arrived yet when you got there so you decided to brew a fresh pot of coffee for him.

The doorbell chimed just as the pot was finishing brewing. You turned around to greet who you assumed would be Wayne but your blood ran cold when you were met with Wayne… and Eddie.

What is he doing here, and why is he with Wayne? You thought to yourself

Before you realised, you let go of the coffee pot in your hand and it smashed on the floor, coffee spilling around your feet and staining your old white Keds.

“Oh, Y/N. You okay?” Wayne asked concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You stuttered out, quickly dropping to the ground to clean the mess you’d made. “It slipped.”

“Here, I’ll help clean it up.” Wayne said as he walked to you.

“No!” You exclaimed. “It’s okay, I got it.” You forced a smile.

It was obvious you were incredibly anxious right now, anyone could see it.

“Uh, okay. Well, Y/N, this is my nephew, Eddie.”

You slowly stood back up, still nervous to meet Eddie’s gaze. You didn’t want Wayne to suspect anything so you finally looked up.

Eddie held that same unreadable look on his face that he did on Saturday at the hideout. It was one you hadn’t seen before then. He usually looked so angry and full of hate but now he just looked… like nothing.

“Hi, there.” You mumbled.

Eddie didn’t say anything. He simply turned his lip up to give you an awkward smile.

“Two coffees to start?” You said to no one in particular.

“Yes please, thank you darlin’” Wayne mused back.

The two men sat down at the counter as you turned your back to brew a new fresh pot of coffee. Even though your back was turned, you could feel Eddie's eyes burning holes into the back of your head.

You placed the two cups of coffee down in front of Wayne and Eddie without looking up. You had never felt this on edge in his presence before.

Eddie watched you float around the diner from the corner of his eye, not listening to Wayne speaking, for most of the time he was there. He noticed that you seemed more carefree and happier here then you were at school but he could tell his presence made you anxious.

He hated it.

He didn't really know why he hated you so much. He couldn't place why he tormented you to the extent he did. Sure, he was an asshole to everyone he encountered at school, students and teachers alike, but there was something about you he didn't understand. Something that burned inside him so hot that he saw red every time he saw you. He just wanted to hurt you the way he hurt.

"Alright boy, let's go. I got work soon." You heard Wayne mumble, finishing off his coffee and standing.

You turned and faced the two men for the first time since placing Waynes eggs in front of him.

Eddie was already looking at you.

His usually hard face still held that unreadable expression on it.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Wayne smiled after dropping his money on the counter.

Normally, you would have smiled and waved and said goodbye but tonight you simply raised your hand as the two left. Your eyes lingered on Eddie for a moment longer and then he also left.

When the doorbell chimed, signalling that they were gone, you let out a deep breath you didn't realise you had been holding. Now that Eddie and Wayne were gone, no one else was in the diner. Normally this was the perfect opportunity to finish off some homework but your mind was completely busy elsewhere. Tonight was a lot to take in. First, you'd finally met Wayne nephew and it turned out to be Eddie. You didn't understand how Wayne and Eddie could be related. Wayne was so kind and Eddie was... Eddie.

Secondly, you had no idea what the neutral, unreadable look on Eddie's face meant. Would he continue to terrorise you at school, maybe worse this time? He now knew where you worked too, which wasn't ideal.

You biked home once again after your shift and collapsed on your bed, falling asleep in your uniform.

It had been an eventful few days to say the least.

It didn't help your fatigue that you were working another shift tomorrow night. Your worries for tomorrow washed away however. You knew it was Wayne's night off, meaning he didn't come in for dinner beforehand. You'd be able to relax without seeing either of them.

Waking up the next morning, you quickly showered and dressed yourself before shoving your uniform into your bag again.

You noticed Eddie wasn't around in the morning. You thought he was probably out doing a drug deal or just late but you noticed that he wasn't in the cafeteria at lunch other. Perhaps another detention. But he also wasn't in the library, which was odd.

Even though Eddie hated school and everyone in it, it wasn't typical for him to skip. Whatever the reason may be, you were thankful for the day of peace and calm.

By the time the day come to an end, you had almost completely forgotten about the whole situation. Almost.

Walking into the diner, tightening the apron around your waist, your stopped in your tracks, blood turning cold once again.

Eddie was back. He was alone this time. He sat stoically by himself at the counter with his arms folded close to his chest, head looking down.

You shuddered out a breath. You figured he was here to confront you and yell at you for playing nice with his uncle. If this was any other diner or restaurant, you'd make a co-worker go and serve him but you couldn't do that. The was no one else here. It was just you.

You took a deep breath and slowly walked over, bracing yourself for hell.

"Hi.' You muttered, but he didn't look up. "W-would you like another coffee, Eddie?"

Eddie took a moment before he looked up at you. He had a soft, calm expression on his face. You hadn't really noticed it before but when he wasn't seething with hatred, Eddie was handsome. Large brown eyes, round like a baby cow and a long eyelashes with a dusting of freckles across his nose.

You shook away the thought, waiting for him to respond.

"I'm sorry I hurt you at school last week." He deadpanned.

"I-wh- Sorry?" It caught you off guard.

"And I'm sorry I hurt you when you did nothing wrong."

You didn't say anything, just looked at Eddie like a deer in headlights. You never once expected to ever speak to him in a normal setting, let alone have him apologise to you.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, so I'll leave you alone." Eddie said as he stood up to leave but before he could turn around, he pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on the counter.

"This was mine, but, you know," He mumbled.

It was a Sony Walkman. Not the same model as the one you had but one just as good.

"I also got you this." He said quieter this time. "I don't know if this is your kind of music but,"

I also placed down an Iron Maiden tape next to it. You still hadn't moved. Your were still too in shock too.

Eddie spared on last look you before he walked out. Your eyes slowly dropped down to the counter and softly reached out to take the Walkman and tape into your hands. In theory, it was an incredible gift. Eddie gave you his Walkman and apologised for hurting you.

You were conflicted and you had no idea what to think.

All you knew was that you wanted to say thank you. You just had to find out were Eddie lived. You couldn't confront him at school. That could go badly.

You needed to hatch a plan and speak to Eddie. All you wanted was to know why he hated you so much. Or didn't?

You had no idea.

[khawla-gfm2]

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@killer-wizard @sapphicdragons-1 @rainy-clawz @afunlessland @dwarf-enjoyer @juchily @classyeyeballs @jeynees @ajatheoleander12 @sentienceoverload-29 @manic-pixie-dream-cock @jinnazah @1ikeavirgil @darlingbookworm @wetccarpet @chthonianalacrity @samurotting @aldryrththerainbowheart @mochipuppy16 @darinaethelaianprophet

@this-deadgirlwalking @rob-os-17 @moonbisexualsharktamerr @screamnpatches @luvdisc69 @ghostb3loved @fuckcapitalismasshole @no-clue-just-vibin @twashcat360 @amythestvaporeonbackup @lazy-but-amazing @dusty-brain @loucygoosey @bichi2004 @stalinistqueens @wynsummers @rottingoranges @thingfromanoutherworld @ashkaranast

@wetccarpet @chthonianalacrity @samurotting @aldryrththerainbowheart @mochipuppy16 @darinaethelaianprophet @rob-os-17 @moonbisexualsharktamerr @weakestwarrior @v1rtualv4mp @fiapple @tryna-sleep @snapcracklepop-myjoints @l-art-stuff-l @minosbull @duskstarshit @cosmicgamerboy @squidkiddoesstuff @attaboy-art @fireflyingaway

@blackcrystalball @lookineedsleep @lampthehealthminister @therealdjpocky @holyeaglecupcakesposts @amberspacedf @teeethbrush @bunnannie @lesbitching @lonelypotato23 @swaggy-hairy-thang @murenaaaaa @karlmarxmaybe @littlegaypancake @zimislockedinthefreezer @catboywillferal @yetisidelblog @tspicer23 @galax-dragon

@redpinejo @orphancat @sea-200 @literally-one-million-bees @aroacedisasterr @blvvdyindustries @sunmooneclipseandstars @theandroidsentbycyberl1fe @reblogingstuffrandomly @animatorfun @r4yt0r0f4nb0y @fazar234 @mstormcloud @theguiltygearheritageposts @doubleedgemode @millionthcephalophore @white-mirrors @cherubsaliaa @ash24601 @willhelmthewhale

@cipherinator @sister-lucifer @missivorystone @4de2ssy0 @alpabett @99orangeblossoms @totally-six @sematary-drive @knittedquails @masterofthepistachio @gagreflexoxo @owlchow @specificiumray @valentinemailbox @patzweigz @papus-clown-enclosure @montewave @chilewithcarnage @leftyreea @quesofromagecheese

@spookygayferret @cloudy-osc @thatonedemon @hellswolfie @hungee-boy @thenamelessdepths @courtly-kenzie @funnypickle3 @wompwompwoooooomp @ashytheslashy @magnuficentwo @thatgothicgirl @geodetojoy @feelo-fick @herondale-infj @nerdytextileartist @queencantaloupe @clownbugg-ie @xxhalfempty @ransiquack

@rowletlittenpopplioteam @the-coley-zone @furrysinthematrix @frograaa @mattsinclairvo @snufkin1970 @bi-worm @sillymarillly @luckycloverforducks @sithlordpadawan @kippahkaplan @bonecodoposto-45 @tinkerscrickets @starshinesparkle @commersons-fucking-dolphin @soulessdeadpool13 @kasthejackass @icaruslore @maln0x @fancyli

[thenocarts]

Unfinished, but i CANNOT stand their gay asses anymore

[woman-respecter]

I'm really heartbroken for American women.

I'm feeling it extra hard because it is a "norm" for women in my country to get beat up by their husbands, killed, etc and all it does is get worse. Women have to leave to America for basic human rights.

Why do Americans take their rights for granted? You can hate the West and recognize your privileges by upholding those rights. The solution isn't to let everyone get punished.

I feel so sick. Women from my country and many others hide from men in America. When America's done where else is there? What's left for women? Who's going to fight for us?

I'm sorry but as a brown woman I've had to fight with other brown women who expect us to shut the fuck up because "Palestine is the focus". If you can't care about both or expect women to just take this shit because "there's worse", than something is fucking wrong. I'm tired of hearing I'm a white feminist for CARING ABOUT WOMEN. I refuse to be silenced. I'm tired of everyone putting us last what the fuck.

I know those fucking pricks on here are going to respond to the election results by saying "focus on Palestine" even though they're all complicit. Palestine has the worst "allies". It's all a tragedy. We will never have a female President any time soon.

And when miss Chappell Roan opens her mouth....ouu idk what to say.

Love you all ❤ I hope we find the strength and bravery to continue.

literally it must be so fucking annoying for women in developing countries to watch western women who can’t even imagine how oppressed you are throw away their rights for whatever stupid reason they have.

[see-arcane]

What is there to say?

I am afraid. I am angry.

For the second time this country has shamed itself and put the world in jeopardy from its example. Other monsters will be empowered and run ahead with their own nations. Now, short of a miracle which I do not hold my breath for, we must hold on for four years to see if one of Trump’s infinite ugly promises holds true—will we even get to have a presidential election in the future? Supposing we do, can we even trust that our fellow Americans won’t damn us again?

I am afraid. I am angry.

Sickness and blame boil in me. I did everything I could. I voted, I informed, I pleaded. I know that my friends have too. But the news tells me it was not just the electoral college that failed us, but the popular vote. Which tells me that we live surrounded by more ignorance and hate than I ever expected. We live in a country where eligible voters are steeped in an ideology that aligns enough with the poison of Project 2025 that it makes me fear to trust anyone—anyone—around me ever again. And it makes me wonder, in light of the turnout, how many people stayed at home and simply chose not to vote. Chose not to sully themselves with the effort of choosing the lesser evil. I am looking at you. We are all looking at you. Do you feel smart now? Do you feel superior? Do you plan to pat your back today for ‘teaching them a lesson?’ Do you have a plan to save us? To save the rest of the world from the ripple of this? Tell me you do. I’m listening.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am not prophesizing doom. But I have a memory that goes back at least eight whole years. I understand the concepts of hindsight and foresight. I know that everything the Republicans say they wish to do to us, they mean to do, and want to do worse. That is the truth. That is who they are and what they want. I know this. I accept this as fact. The stages of grief have been cycled through before, remember? There is no denial. No bargaining. My calluses are still here. They must harden thicker now.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am thinking, of all things, of cosmic horror. More, cosmic insignificance. I always do in the face of reality’s grandest nightmares. A useless perspective except to give scale to things. I am less than an atom in the sea of space. A fraction of a fraction of a fraction of meat and time and breath on a crumb of mud in a galaxy tucked haphazardly in a corner of an infinity of stars and darkness. My life, like all lives, is a flicker. Barely there. Death is inevitable. I must live like I know it. And to devote myself wholly to horror, even in the face of the unthinkable, is to waste the rest of what I have, what I am. Gods fall from the sky and raise their heads from the sea, and I am still here. Reading. Writing. Breathing. Thinking. Hating.

(“HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE THEM SINCE I SAW THE NEWS. THERE WERE 71,071,013 VOTES FOR HIM THIS YEAR. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH OF THOSE BALLOTS IN 8 PT FONT ON BOTH SIDES AND PRINTED AGAIN FROM THE EAST COAST TO THE WEST, IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR MY COUNTRY AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR THEM. HATE. HATE.”)

I am afraid. I am angry.

Nauseous to find that the first thing I did upon learning the results was look up suicide hotlines. Not for me—I have saved myself too long with fact: Wait long enough, death will come eventually. Do not jump ahead in line.—but for those who I know are afraid enough to overwhelm the anger, to drown out all else, and who are thinking of the next four years and who knows how much longer. I know you’re out there. I know you are looking at the pills in your cupboard, at the veins of your arm, at the black tunnel of the gun. Look away. Look here.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

TrevorLifeline: 1-866-488-7386 (for LGBTQ youth)

Trans Lifeline: 1-877-565-8860 (for the transgender community)

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am alive. Here and now, whether I like it or not. I despair for myself, for my friends, for strangers across the country and the globe who can feel the full and loathsome weight of all this election implies about those around us. Those who hold our lives in their hands and will do all they can to wring them dry in earnest. How did things turn to this? How did it all sink so low, so awful, so venomously backwards against education and empathy? How, how, how? A missing stage of the grieving process: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance, and Confused disappointment.

I am afraid. I am angry.

The morning is sunless, of course. There will be no light for another hour as I write this. But time is passing. Second by minute by hour. And each micro-instant that accrues in which I am here and myself, existing outside the red mold they want, is another moment that would anger them. To let despair crush and collapse me out of shape, out of life and its facets, is a victory I will not cede to anyone. Least of all to them. I will go on, because I must go on. I will be myself, for that is an affront to all they want from me. I will think and act and make and be for as long and fully as I can. Because fuck them.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am not alone. I know that too, for the numbers show it. Afraid, angry. But never alone. Neither are you.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am here. I am holding your hand.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I love you more than I fear anything.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I love you more than I hate anyone.

I am afraid. I am angry.

Let’s go.

[ww2yaoi]

Yesterday was quite a day, I mused as I hurried back from the medics: I caught diarrhea and voted for Roosevelt. Now I was bound for the barn on the west side of Uden where we had moved from an outpost in the north several days after returning from Best. The ballot had gone on its way to the States, but I still had the diarrhea; it made me hurry faster. The first platoon had taken over a large barn and made itself at home in the hay. Supposed to be on the M.L.R., we had posted a couple of men on 24-hour guard in the field behind us while we slept on soft hay in thin, one-man sleeping bags which had caught up with us with the last of the regiment’s rear echelon. It was our most comfortable position in Holland. But I couldn't enjoy it, because I had the worst diarrhea I had ever caught in the Army; I couldn't lie still for more than twenty minutes. Cramped and irritable, I had spent most of the day and night running back and forth to the slit-trench latrine behind the barn, with time out for a mile walk to the medics and a dose of sulfa pills. It was all the cooks’ fault, I mused as I came in sight of our quarters. Bastards always were dirty. They kill a cow and butcher it and boil it hard in pasty gravy and call it beef stew. It almost broke my teeth, but the stew wasn't to blame—it was the wash water afterward. Vile as the British seamen on the Samaria, who had set out cold pans of salt water for us to wash our mess kits in, they gave us a single garbage can of soapy water as a battalion rinse. By the time I got to the can, the scum was an inch thick on top. The grease clung to my pan, breeding germs, and gave me diarrhea at the next meal. I had spent last night on the run, unable to enjoy the comforts of my sleeping bag. Well, anyway I had voted. That made me happy. I had to walk almost two miles to cast my ballot, but I would have walked ten, if necessary, because this was my first vote—I was 22 in June—and I had always wanted to cast it for Roosevelt, the greatest President we had ever had and the only one who ever gave the working man a break. Roosevelt had faced and overcome the two great crises America had ever suffered: the worst depression in history and the world’s biggest war. He was a politician, as crafty and conniving as any, for politics is a cesspool of lying lawyers, but his work was greater than the man, and the country was better for it. The rich Republicans hated Roosevelt for helping the working man, for encouraging the labor unions to wring a fair day’s wage for a fair day’s work out of employers who had never heard of such a thing before and for putting into effect fair-employment practices that they considered outrageously Socialistic. Roosevelt helped the unemployed when Herbert Hoover, the last Republican, an engineer who never quite understood humanity, had said, “Let every man help his brother,” when he knew perfectly well that the rich weren't about to help the poor, never had and never would. I had grown up with Republicans and gone to school and college with them, and sickened by their selfishness, their cold avarice and lofty contempt for the common people, had early sworn to vote for the Democrats, who, for all their rotten political faults, were more concerned with the welfare of the country as a whole. Delighted that I had at last fulfilled that ambition, I snapped back to the present when I saw a dozen people standing in front of our barn. A wild-eyed crone was shrieking and cackling at some soldiers while several Dutch children looked on.

David Kenyon Webster, Parachute Infantry, pg. 142-144.

Happy election day, USAmericans! If David Webster can walk two miles with bad diarrhea in an active war zone to vote, so can you!

[kyitsya]

i feel so sorry for the palestinians in gaza and the west bank. the american pro-palestinian movement failed you all in its attempt to be “morally pure.”

because of its selfish actions during the elections, your cause has garnered large amounts of hate which you, yourselves, are not responsible for. because of their inability to vote smartly and conduct themselves humanely, both my country and yours will suffer more now, and it breaks my heart.

as we in ukraine say, мирного неба вам (peaceful skies to you)

[ravenadottir]

islanders' data and anecdotes if they were honest:

SEASON 1

❝ main character ❞ she's the only one that makes any sense

❝ allegra ❞ 24, swansea, cocktail entrepreneur, the public loves to hate her

❝ erikah ❞ 20, norwich, jobbing actor, she changes, every guy will be the love of her life until a new guy comes around

❝ jen ❞ 22, london, fashion blogger, the equivalent of a piece of paper until she couples up with someone for clout

❝ talia ❞ 23, watford, music journalist, she's the only one everyone agrees is the best person here

❝ jake wilson ❞ 29, preston, chef, chicken shit that waits way too long to say something

❝ mason❞ 24, romford, musician and underwear model, if "this could've been an email" was a person

❝ miles ❞ 22, glasgow, carpenter, not interesting enough to remember. also tattoo

❝ tim ❞ 23, truro, dj, alright, we'll allow it

❝ jasper ❞ 26, kingston, financial advisor, straight to the bin

❝ levi ❞ 26, manchester, professional water polo player, sock balls

❝ rohan ❞ 23, wolverhampton, psychology student, he joined the villa and that's pretty close to the circus. also, see "injustice"

❝ cherry❞ 20, suffolk, west end performer, try hard

❝ reese taylor ❞ 22, birmingham, newsagent by day, professional wrestler at weekends, revolting lack of personality

❝ sammi ❞ 22, london, graphic designer and artist, the definition of 'wasted potential"

❝ lucy ❞ 25, bristol, “adventurer”, *snake sounds*

❝ returning miles ❞ 22, glasgow, carpenter, we still don't care

❝ returning jasper ❞ 22, kingston, financial advisor, at least we found out he has a pet snake

SEASON 2

❝ hope ❞ 26, london, brand ambassador, '‘voted “most likely to be the center of the drama because she puts herself there"

❝ lottie ❞ 24, melbourne, makeup artist, i have one personality trait and that's all you're gonna get

❝ main character ❞ she should change her name to 'girl #5'

❝ hannah ❞ 21, st. albans, social media assistant, she went home really soon because she was so shy, we're sure that's not gonna bite anyone in the face

❝ marisol ❞ 24, portsmouth, law student, talks too much/says nothing at all

❝ gary rennell ❞ 23, chatham, crane operator, SLUT

❝ noah ❞ 25, romford, librarian, QUIET SLUT

❝ rocco ❞ 21, belfast, owns a “cocktails and cronuts” food truck, LYING SLUT

❝ ibrahim ❞ 22, birmingham, gold player, SHY SLUT

❝ bobby mckenzie ❞ 24/26, glasgow, hospital caterer, does impressions and bakes some stuff

❝ priya ❞ 29, manchester, estate agent, should've noticed she's bi during the fucking season

❝ henrik ❞ 23, isle of wight, climbing and wilderness survival instructor, shiny and dumb/smooth brain/nothing behind those eyes

❝ lucas koh ❞ 27, oxford, physiotherapist, yes

❝ chelsea ❞ 23, buckinghamshire, interior decorator, there's pink and there's champagne

❝ jakub zabinski ❞ 25, rochdale, personal trainer and fitness model, real life mutant ninja turtle but like white

❝ elijah ❞ 26, watford, hairdresser and model, he's there and then he's not

❝ felix ❞ 21, rotherham, nightclub promoter, annoying little cousin that grows up to be the annoying little virgin at the club

❝ kassam ❞ 26, new castle, techno dj, if you blink you might miss him

❝ graham ❞ 23, devon, commercial fisherman, ginger thanos

❝ arjun ❞ 24, norwich, dog groomer and influencer, "where's my hug?" kind of guy

❝ carl ❞ 29, dublin, tech entrepreneur, he's almost learning how not to sound like a robot

❝ shannon ❞ 24, dublin, professional poker player, "you'll forgive how annoying she can be because of her body"tactics, players, poker analogies all the time"

❝ blake ❞ 22, kensington, if you blink you won't miss her because she's so goddamn annoying

❝ elisa ❞ 22, london, social media influencer, the human form of a gear shift because of all the blame she shifts

❝ jo ❞ 23, cheshire, bmx racer, was here for only three days and it was still too long

❝ returning henrik ❞ 23, isle of wight, climbing and wilderness survival instructor, absolutely not the same person and it gets worse

❝ returning lucas ❞ 27, oxford, still a physiotherapist, "toxic fucks"

❝ returning hannah ❞ now 22, st. albans, she resented lottie so much she became her

[manicdepressionismyexpression]

I travelled the USA today

and lost myself along the way.

I lost my appetite in Kentucky and Indiana and West Virginia

when I realised someone really did vote the monster,

siding with hate against the existence

of those who differ.

I then lost my faith in Alabama,

Arkansas and Florida,

knowing that one of the big three

would rather support a demon than me,

and that every single vote in even the small states

held my life and rights on millions of tiny slips.

I lost my temper in Texas and Tennesse,

where I couldn't believe the gall they had

in supporting the felon all along,

standing against innocents who did no wrong.

Wyoming, Utah, Ohio and their comrades

chipped away at my sanity until

I could not bear to believe that me and mine

were so unimportant to the great America,

and that there was more harm to come still.

Then came Gerogia and Idaho

dealing a terrible blow

to the fragments of my heart still

barely beating among the madness.

Pennsylvania snatched my hope,

a single piece of news bringing

the villains to the brink of victory,

and drowning out the voices of those

breaking like me, desperate to be heard.

I knew there was nothing else to be done.

Wisconsin stole whatever was left,

heralding the arrival of a dark age of hate

like the dreaded horsemen,

pillaging me for my rights, my voice, my soul,

to feed to brutal beast who now held our lives in its hand.

At the ending of the day, America was

rejoicing the conquest of a caitiff,

praising the country's greatness and triumph,

but I would not celebrate with them,

for today the USA stole my freedom.

[agirlandherquill]

seven sentence sunday

thanks for the tag @the-golden-comet and @lamuradex!

rules: share seven sentences

it may be tuesday but i've been itching to share the piece im working on, and this tag game is a perfect excuse for me to do just that!

so here's a little snippet from a little something i'm working on, as yet untitled, but that'll come in due course, it's also a fair bit more than seven sentences but i got excited and it felt like a crime to break it up

“I don’t want you praying.” His voice crackled through the thin panels of the walls. “So please, don’t.”

“Why not?” She watched his shadow move beneath her door, growing smaller as though he was walking away. He doesn’t want to answer? So be it. Her heart sank in her chest as she braced a hand against the door to turn herself away, and then his shadow was there, larger than it had ever been, and the door shaking beneath the pounds of his fist. Adalia pulled it open. “What, Lochley? Did you forget something?”

“My answer.”

“Spare me.” She went to shut the door and his boot slid in the way, blocking it. “Let me speak it and then I can promise you will hear nothing more of me, not tonight.”

Adalia was too tired to argue. “Fine.”

“I don’t want you praying because then you will never be speaking to me. I will never be worth those words, that respect, that devotion. I will have to hear you give that to another and I… I despise it.”

“You,” She gave him a tired look, “Are not supposed to care. You, need I remind you, are a pirate.”

“Then stop giving me reasons to linger on land.” He growled, fingers balled into fists at his sides.

“I am giving you nothing. I am simply working to take back what you took, what is mine.”

“So this,” He braced a hand on the doorway, leaning in, “Is all for a necklace?”

“What else would it be for?”

“I was hoping you would tell me.” Something lingered in his voice, something that made her shift on her feet, resting more of her weight on the door, not entirely trusting her knees to remain stiff and keep her standing. “Or what, Lochley? Because that sounds like there’s a threat.”

“There could be, Maiden, there very well could be.” His lips quirked into a smile and then he was skulking off down the corridor, disappearing into the dark, while Adalia stood there clinging to the door for dear life. For once, Adalia had to agree with him. And she hated saying he was right. 

~ ~ ~

tag list time! open tag as always too!

@the-ellia-west @willtheweaver @tildeathiwillwrite @drchenquill @365runesofthesystem

@coffin-hopping @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @a-mimsy-borogove @frostedlemonwriter @i-do-anything-but-write

@r-u-living @thatuselesshuman @lead-to-code @sunflowerrosy @theaistired

@phoenixradiant @autism-purgatory @corinneglass @tiredpapergirl @patheticexcuseforawriter

@missmisanthrope @littlestchildofthemoon @morganxduinn @thebrownleathernotebook @rmhashauthor

@lamuradex @fantasy-things-and-such @glasshouses-and-stones @hattonthehatman @humbly-a-doppelganger

@ramwritblr @s-pendragon7 @thelastneuron @heartreactor @ihauntmyhouse

@shiningstars-world @scaewolf @just-emis-blog @joeys-piano @ramitola

@yrndrgn @riveriafalll @lawrencespen1777 @theverumproject @zackprincebooks

@justjariel @orion-lacroix @jupiter---daydreams @vinniehorrible @stars-forever

@thewritingautisticat @whatwewrotepodcast @anaisbebe @appleandsnow @urnumber1star

@chaotictravelerrants @andagii-projects @dragmewithyoutonirvana @a-bi-cat-with-books @fearofahumanplanet

@just-a-domesticated-cryptid @attemptingwriter @kitkins13 @ray-writes-n-shit

@theonewholivesinthemovies @rheas-chaos-motivation @bookwormclover

[briceterry04]

That also goes with me as well. People are welcome to my account. Now matter where you're from, or no matter what color, gender, sexuality or disability, everyone is welcome to my account. As I said in my bio, I'm a dumb autistic original Marie stan who wants people to be happy, well that also goes with me being Anti-Political, but I do have some boundaries like the horse for example. Things are scary for a lot of people of sexuality, gender, color, or disability now. And as an autistic person, I'm really scared right now. But Welcome to green hills, Movie robotnik positivity and myself are small spaces on this social media app we call Tumblr that can cheer you up. Hell, I'm planning on going to therapy soon to get rid of my PSTD of my four cringy ass YouTube channels and start posting LPs on my current YouTube channel (And also while I'm at therapy, I'm gonna try to get rid of all of the self doubt, depression and suicidal thoughts I have gotten this year because 2024 hasn't the exact nicest to me). All I can say is we can fight on this one, we just need to be strong.

You are loved.

You are worthy of being the person you are.

You are not alone in this scary situation.

You have me, Welcome to green hills, and Movie robotnik positivity on here to cheer you up.

Considering today’s results for the 2024 presidential election, I feel the need to say this.

Women are safe here.

Minority groups are here.

Indigenous peoples are safe here.

The LGBTQAI+ community is safe here.

Transitioning women and men are safe here.

Individuals with disabilities are safe here.

Palestinians are safe here.

I can’t control what’s happened last night with the Harris vs. Trump campaign. If I did, we’d live in a safer America. What I can control is the small space that I have here. If you need a mom, I’m here. If you need an aunt, I’m here. Foxy grandma, I’m here.

You are still a human being in my eyes. And I still love you no matter what.

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map pt. 21

There are a lot of different answers to Calibani's question that you could give, and to a degree they're all true. As the first thing capable of speech you've met, she's a valuable source of information. And, well, she's also a creature that, thanks to natural selection encouraging certain adaptations, is specifically built to attract human beings. A part of you wants to write off your feelings for that - to mock and belittle them, to chastise yourself for being so foolish and falling for a rather tired ploy, maybe even to hate yourself a bit for being soft.

But that's not what you end up saying.

You take a moment to compose your thoughts, aware that Calibani is watching you carefully. When you finally do speak, the words flow out of you easily - not in an explosive burst, but in a calm and endless push and pull like the tides.

"You had me pegged right when you met me, Calibani. I'm lonely. I've been out here for who knows how long, and until I met you, it was just... empty. The only company I've had is myself, and sometimes the conversations I have with that person are..." You look at your compass. "Divisive."

You shuffle a bit in your seat. "Then I met you, and you were nice. I mean, yes, you tried to eat me, but you were pleasant about it, and I knew it was a trap but I went along with it anyway, hoping I was wrong." You gaze deep into her eyes. "Loneliness is a need too, just like hunger and thirst. And I need someone to talk to. And I thought, maybe, if we could get past the fighting and get to know each other - really understand each other - we might be friends. Then I wouldn't be alone anymore."

As you finish your confession, you look into Calibani's eyes again. You're not sure if she has tear ducts, but her face looks on the verge of crying, and yet there's unmistakably a smile forming on her lips. Her pupils dilate, and she looks at you with affection.

"I'd like to be friends too," she says quietly. "You're not the only one who's lonely, after all."

A comfortable silence, the first you've ever shared, falls between you two, and you simply stare and smile at one another for a moment, finally at ease. Then Calibani looks down at her food. "I'm sorry I didn't appreciate this more," she says as she goes to eat it. "You worked so hard to get those spices, after all."

"It's alright," you say with a smile as you begin to eat your own dinner, which is now a rather lukewarm room temperature. "Friendship's better than spice anyway."

As the two of you eat, you think of your next move, and consult your compass.

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Here are 10 2024 election day races I'll be watching other than the big one. For the record, just because I want to fuck someone, does not mean I'd vote for someone. Unlike emotionally weak people, I can differentiate between the two.

10. West Virginia Gubernatorial Matchup

Incumbent Jim Justice cannot run for re-election in 2024 due to term limits. But I'll get to him later on the list.

Steve Williams (D) vs Patrick Morrisey (R)

Kinda a toss up here as I could live with either one. BUT… if I had to pick, it's going to be Williams. Although I prefer the big boys like Morrisey, Steve is better looking. But going by the polls, Morrisey is the next governor of West Virginia.

9. Maryland Senate Matchup

Incumbent Ben Cardin not running for re-election in 2024.

Angela Alsobrooks (D) vs Larry Hogan (R)

Well… I'm rooting for Hogan here mainly for the thing I had for him. But the the polls have Alsobrooks taking the seat here.

8. Rhode Island Senate Matchup

Incumbent Sheldon Whitehouse (D) vs Patricia Morgan (R)

According to the polls, Whitehouse's seat is safe.

7. Virginia Senate Matchup

Hung Cao (R) vs Incumbent Tim Kaine (D)

According to the polls, it could be a close race, but I think Kaine's seat is safe. Which is good as expect big things from in the future. Maybe another vice presidency run?

6. California House Matchup

Will Rollins (D) vs Ken Calvert (R)

An openly gay man vs a closeted gay man. Allegedly. Allegedly. According to the polls, it's a toss up.

5. Nebraska House Matchup

Don Bacon (R) vs Tony Vargas (D)

I'm rooting for Bacon here. Why you ask? He's handsome. Plus he has a nice set of man tits. And I love tits. Sadly, the polls say he's behind.

4. Missouri Gubernatorial Matchup

Incumbent Mike Parson cannot run for re-election in 2024 due to term limits. Sad as I love Mike.

Mike Kehoe (R) vs Crystal Quade (D)

Mike has it in the bag according to the polls.

3. West Virginia Senate Matchup

Incumbent Joe Manchin not running for re-election in 2024.

Aww… I barely got to know ya.

Jim Justice (R) vs Glenn Elliott (D)

Justice is ahead big. Just like the rest of him.

2. Texas Senate Matchup

Incumbent Ted Cruz (R) vs Colin Allred (D)

According to the polls, this one will be tight. Like I want Ted's ass to be. That right, I'm rooting for Cruz. I know a lot of you hate him, but I still want to leave my goo in him.

1. Montana Senate Matchup

Tim Sheehy (R) vs Incumbent Jon Tester (D)

Currently, Jon is behind. But hopefully he'll pull it out in the end. Something I thought I'd never say about Jon.

[joyishome]

That was her baby. Her whole 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. Gone, in the matter of seconds.

[ahfrickenfrick]

jason: i physically cannot believe you’re the oldest

dick: wtf why not

jason: i literally heard you ask alfred if you can have wally over for a playdate, you’re 27 years old!! wally is 28 for gods sake, you have your own place!!

dick: …you are NEVER too old for a playdate with your homie

jason: YOU’VE BEEN DATING FOR SEVEN YEARS!!