#i’m not trying to accuse you of being white OP i absolutely did not check

[explanationpoint]

but don’t those harmonies start to have an echo of inevitability once the message sinks in? don’t you hear the little mourning and desperation, despair even, in his voice? and we all dance anyway. because deep down everybody in the club knows they won’t find love there. they’re not sure if they’ll find it at all, because even if they do…well, nothing lasts forever. what makes love the exception?

The older I get the more angry I get at the song “Hey Ya,” by Outkast. All right, fucking well done, you’re so deep, but there’s a reason surgeons don’t tell you your loved one died on the table through the medium of song, Andre.

[punksarahreese]

Accident | 4 mg Ativan

Nosdecember day 9 | @neworleansspecial

Anxious!ava; Ava oversteps by accident and Connor’s reaction causes problems

CW: fighting, panic attacks, cognitive distortions

Repost because I’m a clown who accidentally deleted the original post

***

"Ava," Connor was mad, Ava could hear it in his voice even before she saw his face. She was just trying to make coffee, back turned to the door as she fought with the machine that wouldn’t cooperate. The way the door closed less than gently and the footsteps coming up behind her made her stomach drop a little. She hated that tone, hated the way her name sounded when someone said it with hostility. It made her want to run, but this was real life and she couldn’t do that.

"Connor," Ava tried to keep her tone level, pretending her voice wasn’t trembling a little as she turned to look at him.

He was mad, tablet in hand as he glared daggers at her. Ava hated that look, when his ego was clearly seeping through and one little thing that didn’t go his way made him act like this. He was about to throw a tantrum, she was sure, and usually that would make her more annoyed than anything. However, the way he had her borderline backed up against the counter made her feel more intimidated than she liked.

"Why was my surgery postponed and my patient allowed to break her fast?"

Ava raised an eyebrow, "Latham asked me to cover your pre-ops since you didn’t bother to show up for rounds this morning."

"That doesn’t answer my question, Ava."

"I’m not here for you to demand things of me, Connor," she retorted as she forced herself to stand her ground, "She’s diabetic."

"So?"

"So her white count and blood sugar were low," Ava rolled her eyes, "A bloody med student would be able to tell me why we had to postpone her surgery."

"We didn’t do anything! You ruined my operating schedule."

"She would have gone into hypoglycaemic shock, Connor. She definitely wouldn’t have made it off that operating table and if she did her risk of post-op infection was too high!"

"That’s not the point, Ava!" He spat and the anger in his voice made her jump a little. He was overreacting, she knew that, but this was getting to be too much. She had been overwhelmed all morning, after sleeping through her alarm and having to rush through her routine to get to work on time. This was proving to be yet another change in her schedule that was only stressing Ava out more.

"Then what’s the fucking problem, Connor?"

“You are,” he was clearly referencing more than just her meddling with one surgery, even if she had good reason. He was mad at her, for whatever reason, and was using this as an excuse to lash out at her. Ava just stared at him, both because she was waiting for him to elaborate and because she did not know how to respond. Usually an argument with Connor was no big deal, since they argued on the daily, but since she was already overwhelmed this was way too much already. She wanted to run, to leave and go find Sarah because she would be able to keep her calm, but she couldn’t. Ava never backed down from a fight, especially not when Connor and her job were concerned, and she definitely was not going to let him win now.

“All you ever do is get in the way,” Connor spat, “I have a system and this was an important surgery, now you’ve gone and messed it up. You meddle too much, Ava, and it’s getting ridiculous.”

“Excuse me?” her tone was incredulous because, really, he was making no sense, “Since when do you have a system? You’re the most erratic and trigger-happy surgeon I have had the displeasure of meeting.”

He didn’t validate that with a response, choosing instead to glare at her more, which only made Ava more upset. Him and his goddamn “holier-than-thou” attitude would drive her crazy one day. He was being entirely unfair too, since she had, in this case, done just was what required for the patient’s safety.

“Why are you on my ass about this all of a sudden? Last time I checked you were the one on Latham’s bad side today because you didn’t show for your pre-ops. Besides, I was thinking about the patient here.”

“Were you, Ava?”

The accusatory tone did not sit right with the other surgeon at all, “What are you insinuating now?”

“Were you thinking about the patient?” his question must have been rhetorical because he didn't let her answer, “Or where you just trying to get me back in the doghouse with Latham?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Connor, what the hell? Why would you even accuse me of that?”

He just scoffed, as if her shock was ridiculous to him, “I wouldn’t put anything past you, Ava.”

Ava stared at him in confusion, honestly hurt that he thought that lowly of her. They may have their differences but they have worked together long enough to know when the other was joking or just being difficult. Connor was serious now and it was so frustrating, he knew Ava would not put a patient in danger like that just to mess with his surgery.

“Just stay out of my way, Ava,” he turned to leave and only looked back at her dismissively, “Don’t mess with my surgeries.”

When the door to the CT lounge slammed shut again, Ava found herself shakily letting out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She set her coffee cup on the counter again, realizing her knuckles had turned white from how tightly she was gripping the mug. Her head was reeling, trying to take in everything that had just happened. Connor’s accusations were ringing in her head, making her question where the hell this thought that she would sabotage him like that for no reason even came from.

Before she was even completely aware, Ava found herself sliding down the cabinet and landing less than gently on the floor. The ugly hospital linoleum was cold through the thighs of her scrubs, making her shiver both out of anxiety and the temperature drop. Her mind was racing, all of Connor’s words hitting her way too hard all of a sudden. She could usually brush off his comments with an eye roll and a reminder that he was just being egotistical, but this time they stung.

Maybe it was because she was already overwhelmed, the morning had been too stimulating and too many things were out of place. Whatever the reason, Ava’s anxiety decided to hit full force the second she was alone. She couldn’t breathe, it was all too much and guilt was hurting her like a rolling wave.

Why was she even guilty? There was no reason for her to feel this way, because she had absolutely done the right thing. She even clarified with Latham afterwards and he agreed that he would have done the same. Ava did what was in the patient’s best interest, Connor’s accusation was completely misplaced and ridiculous.

So why was this hurting her so much?

It was his anger, the way he yelled at her and had her cornered like that. Connor wouldn’t hurt her physically, she knew that for certain, but it still scared her. Her anxiety was never rational but when it came to conflict it was inconsolable. She could only hold on to her façade for so long before she broke, which is what this was. She didn’t mean to upset him, didn’t mean to make him angry. It was all an accident; she didn’t mean to.

“S-stupid Connor,” she muttered, “S-stu...stupid God co-complex.”

Her breath was coming out in ragged gasps by this point, short nails digging into her arms to ground herself. Mind racing, she tried so hard to focus on something, anything, but she couldn’t. His words were ringing in her head like a shrill shriek, not letting her ignore them. They began morphing too, into other distortions her brain insisted were real.

All you ever do is get in the way.

You meddle too much, Ava.

You’re the problem.

You.

You’re not worth it.

You’re selfish.

You did this.

Fraud.

Nuisance.

Disappointment.

Her hands clapped over her ears like she could block out the intrusive thoughts from the outside. She was shaking like a leaf, panic overtaking her completely. Stomach rolling, Ava felt like she was going to be sick with how overwhelmed she was. The fluorescent lighting made her feel way too hot and brought tears to her eyes along with the panic. Her head was reeling, too much going on and no Sarah or Ativan or any of her comfort objects to calm her down.

All of her coping mechanisms went out the window in that moment, slumped over knees and breathing rapidly. Her hands were over her ears or on her neck, nails digging in deep because it was the only way she could ground herself. Pain stims aren’t healthy, she knew that, but in that moment all she knew was she felt like she was suffocating. She deserved this, her brain insisted, the pain was the least she deserved in that moment.

All you ever do is get in the way, Ava.

[daisylincs]

@angrylittleintrovert prompted me Staticquake + “you need to relax more” // “you need to stop taking unnecessary risks.” 

I'm not going to lie, when I saw this prompt, I saw the opportunity to write a Staticquake AU for one of my favourite tropes EVER - the how-could-you-be-so-stupid-I-was-so-worried slap-slap-kiss. 

I promise you I meant for this to be only about 500 words long. I promise you. But then I sat down in front of the computer, and, well, my muse completely ran away with me. And before I really knew what had happened, I had developed an entire AU setting, plus some intense feels, for my precious babies. 

Oh, I have no excuse. Just *shoves fic in your face* enjoy this!! 

Daisy paced up and down the landing ramp of the quinjet, her steps sharp and angry. She moved fiercely, purposefully, heedless of the blood and soot covering her cheeks staining the leg of her suit. 

Step. 

She remembered their briefing, how this was supposed to be a standard, low-risk op - "it'll be easy for the likes of you two, nothing to worry about. All you have to do is get in, take out a few guards, steal back the briefcase, and get out."

Ha. 

Step.

She remembered the moment it had all gone wrong - when they had burst through the door and found a ticking bomb strapped to the briefcase. 

Step.

She remembered the look on his face when she had told him to clear the building, she would handle this.

Step.

She remembered how hard it had been to keep the bomb's energy contained in a sphere of her vibrations.

Step.

She remembered the crackle of static in her ear, followed by a terse - "clear."

Step.

She remembered the window shattering as she blasted it with her powers, taking a flying leap out as the building exploded behind her.

Step.

She remembered hitting the ground running and gritting her teeth against the pain in her legs. Asphalt was hard. 

Step.

She remembered the high, terrified scream from the building she had just left, the white face pressed to a window miraculously left unbroken.

Step.

She remembered him muttering a curse and sprinting past her before she could stop him.

Step.

She remembered screaming after him that the building wasn't stable and could collapse at any moment.

Step.

She remembered the fierce look in his blue eyes - "I have to at least try and help" - before he rushed into the flames.

Step.

She remembered the building's frame finally giving in as he dashed through the door, with her a few steps behind and just too late to follow. 

Step.

And she remembered coming back here, to the quinjet, to the rendezvous point, and waiting. 

Because they had promised each other, huddled together under one of the orphanage's frayed, too-small blankets, that they would come back to each other no matter what.

And they had always kept that promise.

Turn.

She wasn't afraid, Daisy told herself firmly. They had always kept that promise. There was no reason to think today would be any different.

Lincoln was going to come back.

And when he did, she was going to kill him.

They had grown up together, survived the foster system together, gone through Terrigenesis together, become SHIELD's first Inhuman strike team together - he wasn't allowed to ruin that by making reckless, stupidly heroic decisions! 

They had gone through far too much together for it to end like this. 

Step.

Didn't he know how much she needed him in her life? He was her best friend, her partner, the one thing that had stayed constant throughout her life no matter how crazy things got. 

Step.

Didn't he know that if she lost him, she would lose herself, too?

Step. 

And then she saw him.

For a moment, Daisy froze completely. Then her brain caught up, and she rushed down the ramp of the quinjet, crashing into Lincoln's chest just as he was beginning to walk onto the plane.

"Daisy!" he said, stumbling back a step and catching her wrists to steady her and himself.

Daisy yanked her wrists out of his grasp and slapped him, her palm connecting with his cheek with a satisfying smack. 

"You absolute IDIOT!" she shouted, taking full advantage of the shock in his blue eyes. "How could you be so STUPID? You could have died!"

Her voice cracked a little towards the end, and Daisy realised that her entire body was shaking, whether from anger or sheer relief she couldn't tell. 

"Do you have any idea how reckless that was?" she asked, her voice raising even louder than before as she ran her hands over his face and chest, frantically checking for injuries. "That building was completely unstable, not to mention on fire! I don't care how good you are, you don't get to take those odds!"

"It's not about being good, Daisy, it's about saving lives," Lincoln said, his voice sharp as he got over his shock and cut into her rant. 

"Oh, because you can save so many lives when you're dead!" Daisy knew she was being unfair, but her emotions were ramped up far too high for her to make any really logical decisions.

Lincoln returned her glare with exactly the same furious anger born from desperate worry and relief. "I was reckless? Daisy, you stayed in a building with a ticking bomb, risking your life on the off-chance that your powers might be able to keep it from blowing. Oh, and then you jumped five stories out of said building, straight onto solid asphalt." 

"That's not the same as literally running into your death!" she argued loudly, the worry that had been singing through her blood all too glad to be released as boiling anger.  

"How is that not the same?" he challenged, his blue eyes blazing. "You took a risk -"

"Which had way more chance of success than yours did, honestly, Lincoln, what the hell were you thinking?" she broke in, barely even noticing they were practically nose-to-nose as she glared at him. 

"That doesn't change the fact that you took a massive risk! You could have died or permanently hurt yourself," he accused, wiping away some of the blood on her cheek with a warm hand while his eyes remained locked with hers.

Daisy released a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, instinctively leaning into his touch as his thumb stroked the curve of her cheekbone.

When she opened her eyes, she realised fully for the first time just how close they had gotten during their little shouting match. Her palms were still pressed against his chest, and his hand cradled her cheek, their noses almost brushing and their lips inches apart.

Daisy's eyes flicked down to his lips, and she realised three fundamental truths at the exact same time:

Number one, even when his eyes were blazing with anger, Lincoln's hand on her cheek as he half-unconsciously checked her injuries was gentle and warm. He cared so much about her, and matter how angry he was with her, he would never, never hurt her.

Number two, in the softening glare in his blue eyes, and in the desperate worry and overpowering relief still zipping through her blood, she saw that they had both reacted far too strongly for two best friends and partners who had been through life-threatening situations before.

And number three, she couldn't bear the thought of a world without him.

Daisy looked up at him, at Lincoln, the three epiphanies racing through her skull -

- and kissed him, fierce and desperate and full of all the powerful relief and raw emotion she couldn't put into words. 

She pulled away after a moment that felt years longer, her breathing harsh and ragged. "Don't ever scare me like that again," she ordered, pressing her forehead against his and trying to ignore the way her lips were still tingling. 

He huffed a small laugh against her lips, opening his eyes slowly and looking up from her mouth to meet her gaze. "You need to relax more." 

She opened her eyes fully to give him an incredulous look. "And you need to stop taking unnecessary risks!" 

His eyebrows shot up. "You're one to talk!" he accused, bumping his nose against hers. 

She rolled her eyes, moving to punch him in the chest, but stopped as she realised she was still clinging to his shoulders. 

She had come far too close to losing him today - she didn't think she'd be letting go anytime soon. 

His eyes softened as her silence stretched on, and she could see in his eyes that he got it. 

Daisy let out a soft breath and closed her eyes, and this time when she stretched up to kiss him, there was none of the anger or raw desperation of last time. It was soft and slow and perfect, both of them taking the time to really feel each other, to share without words how much they meant to each other.

Neither of them needed words to hear it, but the message was there, loud and clear to two people who had been best friends for their entire lives: never leave. 

 And both of them replied silently, promised it into their second kiss and the start of this new relationship: I never will. 

[bondsmagii]

Hey, sorry to dredge up the discourse but I just woke up amd saw it. I'm the person that actually called karen a "Top Lad" so idk why you went after OP. I didn't mean to make it sound like there are no shitty nts. I know what most people refer to as "nt karen" and I wouldn't actually want to hang out with her. I was just joking in the context of the post. I'm geniuinely sorry if what I said hurt you. I didn't mean for it to gain traction.

hey! thanks for clarifying. I understand that both yours and OP’s posts were tongue-in-cheek, however a lot of posts in the comments were not, and that was more what annoyed me. I didn’t respond out of annoyance; more because I just wanted to present an alternative view and some people who were already doing so were being quite aggressive and rude about it.

just to clarify a few things myself: I didn’t “go after” OP. my post was the one OP chose to respond to, probably because I have a lot of followers and it was the most common response OP was seeing. OP actually engaged me and instead of explaining their actual points, they first claimed they were joking, and then when I disagreed they accused me of hating disabled people, talked shit about me on their blog, accused me of “extrapolating politics” from their post, and finally blocked me when I told them I was doing none of those things. I should add that they blocked me almost 12 hours after I stopped engaging with the discourse; for that entire time they continued to blog about me and the situation, and now (2 days later) they are still posting about it.

I’m sorry that you were dragged into this. OP’s experience with the NT Karen posts are very different to mine and I have never heard of them happening, and in fact OP never informed me of them. I had to check OP’s blog to discover their position because all OP did in their responses to me was accuse me of being ableist. I discovered OP had primarily seen NT Karen posts directed at other disabled people, which, had OP brought that up, I would have been interested to hear about. just like OP has never seen what I experienced, I never saw what OP experienced. I was open to discussing it and I’m always open to hearing other points of view. I even stated in an ask about the situation that I believed both myself and OP to be correct. unfortunately OP cast me as an ableist who was trying to politically dissect them, which… I still don’t know how they reached that conclusion. all I was saying was that I had a differing experience, and in that experience, NT Karens would absolutely not be fun to hang around with.

I’m annoyed that this escalated this far, and I do believe that the reason for that was OP’s emotionally charged rhetoric. this is exactly why black and white thinking is so dangerous for discussions. OP and I could have cast light on situations the other has no experience of, which would have been highly beneficial. instead, I’m apparently an ableist for saying that that wasn’t my experience, and for presenting other facts. literally nothing will come of such accusing language and all-or-nothing attitudes. no wonder a generation is growing up afraid to disagree with people. confrontation never used to be so damning.

I’m posting this publicly for clarification, and as my final word on the subject (unless of course you would like to add anything). any other messages I get will be answered privately or deleted, because I was done with this days ago and there really is no point continuing to debate after a certain point.

[roseamongroses]

Antithesis: Dear Diary: why?

[Specific-Summary]:  They should expect growing pains. For not everything to feel right or make sense. That doesn't mean it'll always hurt, nor does it mean they can't have fun along the way. It's senior year. Everything may be different. It won't be senior year for long. Everything will be okay.

[General Warnings]: Implied Emotional Abuse, Implied Physical Abuse, Bad Parents are Bad Parents, Mild Sexual Content/jokes,Mentioned Homophobia, Mentions of underage drinking (backround), Some Catcalling,Cursing , Self Hate,implied pregnancy talk/inability to become pregnant, adults arguing where the “kid” can hear it, adults drinking, 

[Tags/mood:] highschool au,  fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters]Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana) Remus “The Duke” Sanders (minor/brief)

(Ao3) (Previously)

(8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)

(16) (17)

(Note: Please check the general warnings and character list before continuing since some changes have been made and I don’t want to throw you off later on) 

Roman slung the scarf across his shoulders, “You think I should pack this?” he said, striking a pose, “You think it’s gonna be too hot for summer or?”

“You do look good in red...” Dmitri glanced up from his laptop, still typing, “And it’s better than your fifteen--separately bought-- white jeans.”

Roman flung a trench coat at his face. “Glass-fuckin houses babe, half your closet is black and boring--plus I like the white, ” he protested, “And don’t you think the red will be a bit too much with my hair?” he untucked his curls from underneath the scarf, smoothing the sides.

Dmitri laughed, “You’re the definition of a bit too much, Ro,” he said, “But if it means anything the reds been fading for a while now,”

“Wait really?” Roman picked up a hand mirror, angling it with a frown, “Dammit,” he said, “Virgil might still have some bleach left over, but I don’t want to kill my curl pattern like he did…”

“Then don’t redye it,” Dmitri shrugged, “You’ll look good regardless.”

Roman fluffed his hair, pouting in the mirror, “How good?”

Dmitri rolled his eyes, “Fishing early I see,” he said, pausing his typing to take a better look, “The red hair nice, but the brown will soften your features since there ’ll be less contrast.”

“I’dunno if I want to ‘soften my features though...It’d look cute, but...maybe if I cut my hair?” Roman tugged the scarf off, “.…people would take me more seriously.”

“Now why would you…” Dmitri paused, setting his laptop aside nodding, “Come over here, let me take a closer look.”

Roman eyed him warily.

“C’mon now, I’ve been dating you for what? A little over a year, Have a little faith,” Dmitri defended, “I’m not a snake tricking you into sinning,”

Roman crossed his arms, eyeing him up and down, “You’ve done it before--remember?”

“Oh that was fun and you know it, now c’ mere,” He offered a hand.

“It was,” Roman sighed, relenting and taking his hand. Dmitri tugged him to his knees, Roman making panicked noises as they bumped foreheads and he used Dmitri’s shoulders to steady himself, “Close enough?”

Dmitri tilted his head, “A bit closer.”

“Closer?” Roman’s lips barely brushed his.

“There we go--would you look at that,” Dmitri murmured, “A handsome prince if I’ve ever seen one…” Roman’s expression softened and Dmitri continued, “Whoever you’re trying to impress would be stupid not to take you seriously, especially with your anal work ethic--mmph,” Dmitri’s hands flew to Roman’s waist only slightly caught off guard as Roman closed the distance. The sloppy kiss eventually dissolved into Roman peppering Dmitri’s face between giggles.

“Either you’re rewarding me or you’re trying to distract...” Dmitri’s joke died off, eyes fluttering as Roman’s attention dipped lower, trailing his jaw, “Oh that’s...that’s nice…Your brother out?”

“Mhm,” Roman hummed contemplatively, before pulling back a bit, “ Yeah he is, but...I dunno I’m not really in the mood for that…Sorry..”

“You don’t need to apologize every time you know?” Dmitri leaned into Roman’s chest, feeling Roman’s hands nestle into his hair.

“It’s just so...weird.” He could hear the frown in Roman’s voice, “Is it weird? I’m going to be gone for a while too…Am I being a bad boyfriend?”

“You’re not weird, it's normal.”

“But--” Roman’s voice was quiet, “--- it’s not like you’re not attractive-- but--I dunno-- sometimes actually doing stuff like that is just...ugh I can’t even describe it.”

“The other guys might be horny bastards 24/7, but it’s perfectly normal for you Roman.” Dmitri said, “If you want to kiss we can kiss if you want to cuddle and talk we can do that too.”

“Talk’n’cuddle,” Roman mumbled and Dmitri smiled.

“So how are you feeling about the trip?”

“Oh, I’m absolutely horrified--” Roman easily spun into a rant,” I have to be holed up in that infested dung heap with that odorous rat with only my beautiful tia’s cooking as solace?” He sniffed appalled.

“Huh,” Dmitri snickered, “I’ve never heard that nickname for Virgil.”

“I’m not...talking about Virgil.”

---

R: XXX.notalink/rated:m/dontclickfortheloveofgod/dJDoJi90

Rem: WHAT THE FUCK ROMAN Rem: WHY WOULD YOU SEND THAT

L: Why the hell didn’t you read the link first

Rem: WHO THE FUCK READS Rem: GOD NEVER AGAIN

L: I highly doubt it's that bad

L:....I stand corrected

Rem: you clicked the link too didn’t you

L: In the name of science of course

Rem: ROMAN WHY DID YOU SEND THAT

R: ;)

Rem: EXPLAIN YOURSELF

R: ;) XXXX.notalink/rated:m/oopsididitagain/dskfJjfd9dsf3gds

L: That one is more weird than disgusting

Rem: WHY DO YOU KEEP CLICKING ON THEM

L: Why is Roman still sending them?

V: as much as i like smearing my brothers good name that isn’t roman

V: [Roman conked out on the couch, in a sweatshirt and shorts, drool pooling. Jpeg]

Rem: cute photo, 10/10 L: Agreed.

V: god both of you fuckin s t op i t s t o p s t o p

R: XXXX.notalink/rated:m/you filthylinkreaders/d3gds789jk

Rem: just bc you have issues with compliments doesn't mean roman does

L:Here we go again I guess...

V; roman doesnt have any fuckin boundaries

Rem: yes, yes he does Rem: they may be thin but he Does have them

V:sorry but he’s way too nice about it

Rem: weve more then established that me calling him cute is okay and i require the sustenance of doting on him okay? Like i get it ive pushed a bit too hard before but like im trying ok???

V: k k I i hit the breaks a bit too soon this 1 time but it’s ducking thin ass ice and I’m not above sending y’all to an icy tomb if you get gross. Roman may be a bastard but he’s still baby

L:Translation: He understands your reasoning and agrees he overreacted, but this won’t stop him from questioning our intents and calling out certain actions. Roman may be okay with joking around with stuff like that and being the center of attenuation, but he’s still self conscious and sensitive.

V:why must you add feelings and adult reasoning to everything

L: How dare you accuse me of having feelings

R: XXXX.notalink/rated:m/unicornhornsanddragontails/3nskjJ03 R: XXXX.notalink/rated:m/specA-Z/54Kjjf9n R: XXXX.notalink/rated:m/asliceofme/fljkl29mfJ

R: XXXX.notalink/rated:m/laughsinspanish/5Kjd8

Rem:ye feelings are gross so moving on

Rem: anyway who the fuck is this

V: the bastard

R: you can call me duke [video of Roman, Virgil, and Remus as toddlers, Virgil playing with blocks and listening to some music while in the background Remus follows Roman around.mp3] [image of Roman, Virgil, and Remus currently. jpeg]

V: the bastards name is remus

R: THE. DUKE.

V: FUCK. YOU.

Rem: why the shits have i never met them and why the FUCK does he look more like roman then you do virgil

V: i think it's bc rem doesnt cover up his freckles

V: but yeah my mom and tia had a falling out

R: more like my dad was an asshole

Rem: oh shit same

R: shitty dad squad hmu ;)

Pat: oh hey!!! Me too!!!!

V: yeah it was Not Fun and mom and mama refused to let us go back until tia got a divorce

R: XXXX.notalink/rated:m/deodarant/298jksf

R:XXXX.notalink/rated:m/sPicydeodarant/23kjfJ

L: Are you done yet? They’re getting repetitive at this point.

---

Sun beating on his forehead, Dmitri’s chest was light and airy. His hair was tied up in a high ponytail as he worked on repotting some of his nursery plants. Usually, he’d be listening to music, but his aunt had left early that morning for some appointment so he relished the silence.

Brushing the dirt from his hands, he winced at the fresh cuts lining his knuckles.

“You’re still out here?”

Dmitri almost jumped at Dr. Montag’s voice, “Sorry for the mess” he said, gripping the nursery pot tighter, “I-I’ll clean it up right away…”

Dr. Montag crouched, waving him off, “There’s no need. I’m running a few errands for your aunt,” his hands barely brushing the leaves of one, “This is a Yucca right?”

“Uh,” Dmitri blinked, “Yeah it is,”

He laughed, “Don’t look so surprised-- I know things,” he stood back up, “Like how to use google. It’s rather impressive that y’all manage to keep up with so many of these.”

“Barely,” Dmitri relaxed, refocusing, “We used to have a lot more, but without my dad...it got overwhelming,” he shook his head, “It’s the only thing we really….It keeps us busy..”

“This is more than busy--you put a lot of work into these, anyone should be proud,” He murmured, studying Dmitri again, “I’ll be gone in a few, just need to grab her purse. You need anything from the store?”

“Uh...No,” Dmitri frowned, “I don’t.”

---

LilRed: COLLEGE BOARD CAN SUCK MY ASS LilRed: THIS BITCH GOT A FIVE

BlueRanger: Which class?

LilRed: APUSH

BlueRanger: Nice, good job

LilRed:

LilRed:

PurpleRain: L you fuckin broke him

PurpleRain:like I legit just heard a fuckin thud I think he fell

BlueRanger: I just told him good job?

LilRed: i die from validation i die w/o validation

BlueRanger: Please don’t die

PurpleRain: thats a lame ass way to die

LilRed: @purplebitch i feel so loved

PurpleRain: mama didnt raise us for us to die so b o r i n g l y

LilRed: SO HOW DO YOU SUGGEST I DIE

PurpleRain: idk im feelin,,,,rain,,,,,lots of it,,, maybe you’re watching the sea,,,,

PurpleRain: okay I got it

PurpleRain: you’re wearing a white sundress, the ends tattered but well loved. The coast empty with nly the lapping of waves your company. You’re thinking, a lot. Not of anything particular, but thinking nonetheless. The ocean always makes you think, always makes you remember--bringing about a bittersweet tinge of remorse to your heart, but no tears ever fall.

PurpleRain:You make it a habbit to watch the sunrise each day, relishing in the sobering feelings it invokes Maybe you're a masochist at heart

LilRed:maybe it’s maybelline

PurpleRain:I AM HAVING A MOMENT PRINCEY

PurpleRain: one day, you hear footsteps approach, and assume it's your lover returned from war. The news of it's end just coming days prior and making your ventures to the coast sparked with an unfamilar hopefulness.

PurpleRain: instead when you turn around, you do not feel your heart soar. Instead it sinks. An icy panic spreading through you, a curl of dread closing your throat, it's grip tight. You need to move; to get away from them. But you cant. You cant.

PurpleRain: one shot is all it took.

PurpleRain: one.

BlueRanger:....Concern.

PurpleRain: dnd just started again im prepping ok

LilRed:fuckin nerd

LilRed: huh…. i should get a sundress tho

PurpleRain: i have a few bookmarked ill show you later

BlueRanger: Is That Really What Y’all Are Taking Away From This

---

“And so the shop explodes-no not explodes it's in flames and they have the audacity--the au,” Roman coughs readjusting the webcam, “They have the audacity to play ‘Somebody to love’ as he’s fuckin mourning,” he gestured angrily, “Like Neil might as well come into my house and stomp on my heart.”

Dmitri nodded along, amused at the combination of camera lag and Roman’s erratic movements, “Before or after you watch the next episode?” he asked.

“It’s gonna have to be after cause I already finished the season. I never recovered from that scene though, ” Roman shrugged, tapping his jaw thoughtfully, “Probably should’ve started working on my commission sheet,”

“The same sheet you said you were going to start last month?”

“Yes the same one,” Roman blew out an exasperated huff, flopping into his hands, “I don’t know why it’s so hard --I feel scummy for pricing ‘too high’ and like shit for pricing ‘too lo--,” A notification rang, and he glanced over the screen, eyebrow raised, “Huh, Lo’s callin’ to video chat, you mind if I add’em?”

“Nah, go ahead,” Dmitri said, starting to fold the pile of towels.

“Alrighty,” He answered the call, “What’s up ner-” his face lit up, “Princess!”

Giggles erupted from the screen and Dmitri glanced up curious. On the screen instead of Logan was a small girl animatedly talking to Roman. She had two front teeth missing, glitter coloring her cheeks and rainbow beads rattling each time her braids moved.

“Woah, Woah-Woah,” Roman snorted, “Slow down hon, where’s your brother? Does he know you’re using his computer?”

“He’s in the shower,” she said, batting her eyes, “And know is a very strong word, but I can assure you he’s...aware?”

“Mmm, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he said, “So what’s the fairest of the land need?”

She beamed, “You at my birthday party.” she said, more of a command than anything.

Roman made of show of mulling it over, unable to keep a straight face, “I think I can make it.”

Her fist punched the air, “Ya--”

“Nieve,” Logan’s voice called out sternly.

Her eyes shot wide and she scrambled out of frame. Seconds later, Logan reappeared in the frame without his glasses, towel tucked to his chest. He didn’t look particularly mad.

He squinted blearily at the screen, “Roman? “ his gaze slid over, “Dmitri? Shit sorry did she bug you?”

“Not at all,” Roman reassured, “It’s been a while since I came over anyway,”

Logan grabbed their glasses, adjusting the frames, “Yeah...I guess it has...Since you’re here did you get that email from the school?”

“Yeah, it’s bullshit, “ Roman said, rolling his eyes, “If the state cared they would have found the funds somewhere else, it’s all shady as fuck. ”

Logan nodded, saying goodnight before disconnecting.

As soon as his icon disappeared, Roman said, “Huh, that...reminded me,”

Dmitri started on the next pile of laundry, “Of what?” he said, brow pinched, concerned.

“I’ dunno something Remy brought up…” Roman said, playing with his hands, “It’s stupid really but---”

He yelped falling to the floor, Remus victoriously sliding into the rolling chair. He spun wildly, the web camera a laggy blur, with only loud obnoxious kissing noises heard amongst the screaming.

Eventually, Remus slowed down, and it was jarring how much he and Roman looked alike. It was more unnerving seeing such a sleazy look with Roman’s face.

“Oh Dmitri,” Remus mocked, even adopting the heavy accent Roman usually placed on his name, “Embrace me with those big, long artist hands of yours, god I’m going to melt--"

“Shut up--shut up! You Rat-- give it back-give it back--” Roman whined, clambering over the chair, elbowing him, “Give it back, fuckin- MOM,” At one point Roman managed to wrestle the laptop from Remus, kicking him out of the chair and sending him off with a finger-- which Remus promptly returned.

Dmitri’s silently wheezed as Roman turned around visibly frazzled, “God I forgot what I was say-Are you laughing at me?” he said, “Stop it--stop laughing it’s not--”

“It-” Dmitri’s covered his mouth, shoulders shaking “It kinda is,” He said between snorts, only laughing harder at the offended noises Roman made.

As his snickers died down, Roman crossed his arms, “You done yet?” he sniffed.

“Yeah…” he gasped, “Yea...h... I am…” he blinked a bit, a slow smile spreading across his face, “So... what’s this about my hands?”

Roman’s eyes shot wide, incoherent babbling coming from his mouth as his ears turned a bright cherry. He slowly shrank out of frame to promptly die.

---

@daflangstlairde

@ace-anx

@cataclysm-al

[theconservativebrief]

Look at the above image. On the left, of course, is Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh, at the Senate Judiciary Committee for his confirmation hearings. Behind him is his former clerk, longtime Republican legal operative Zina Bash. But what is Bash doing with her hand? Is she resting it normally? Is she making an “okay” sign? Or could it be that she’s making a … WHITE POWER HAND SIGNAL?

This is 2018, and so naturally, some prominent #resistance Twitter personalities jumped on the latter allegation, seeing Bash’s hand movements as proof of Republican complicity with white supremacist movements:

Kavanaugh’s former law clerk Zina Bash is flashing a white power sign behind him during his Senate confirmation hearing. They literally want to bring white supremacy to the Supreme Court. What a national outrage and a disgrace to the rule of law. pic.twitter.com/uQGOpNa6xg

— Eugene Gu, MD (@eugenegu) September 4, 2018

Eugene Gu, a prominent anti-Trump doctor who recently made news when he was accused of sexual assault, racked up more than 13,000 retweets and 17,500 likes for his tweet accusing Bash.

Keith Rubin, an Army veteran whose Twitter bio states he “love[s] everything except racism,” got even more engagement on his version of the post:

In a since-deleted tweet, Amy Siskind, the prominent Twitter personality who writes a weekly list of #NotNormal things the Trump administration has done, stated that the hand signal should disqualify Kavanaugh from the Supreme Court.

Before we go any further: Bash was not making a “white power hand signal.” You can, if you want, trust the word of her husband, John Bash, who is currently US attorney for the Western District of Texas:

Zina is Mexican on her mother’s side and Jewish on her father’s side. She was born in Mexico. Her grandparents were Holocaust survivors. We of course have nothing to do with hate groups, which aim to terrorize and demean other people — never have and never would. 2/3

— US Attorney John Bash (@USAttyBash) September 4, 2018

But if his word isn’t enough, you can listen to real experts on white supremacist movements.

“No one should assume anything about the use of such a gesture unless there are other unmistakable white supremacist signifiers in that context as well,” Mark Pitcavage, an expert on right-wing extremism at the Anti-Defamation League, tweeted, adding:

Out of all the things you should be legitimately concerned about regarding the Senate confirmation hearings in Washington, DC, today for Judge Kavanaugh & SCOTUS, handshakes and handsigns ought not be among them.

Actual serious constitutional issues are at stake.

— Mark Pitcavage (@egavactip) September 4, 2018

Jared Holt, a research associate at the left-leaning watchdog group Right Wing Watch, agrees. “It could have just been her resting her hand in a way that looked like that,” he said. “I haven’t seen anything that would lead me to believe this was intentionally a troll.”

That’s the gist of it. But there’s a backstory to why the okay gesture is perceived as a hate sign, and the eagerness of some liberals to embrace fake news on the subject is itself revealing. We have, at this point, gotten plenty of signs through actual policy decisions, and concrete connections between Trump staffers and white nationalist activists, that the Trump White House is pursuing a racist agenda. So why do people still want a secret hand signal to prove that the Trump administration is sympathetic to white supremacist goals?

As the ADL’s Pitcavage explained last year, this whole story was fueled, like so much internet nonsense before it, with a 4chan trolling effort.

Back in February 2017, Pitcavage writes, a 4chan user proposed an effort called “Operation O-KKK” in which he and allies would, in the anonymous user’s words, “flood Twitter and other social media websites … claiming that the OK hand sign is a symbol of white supremacy.” Here’s the original 4chan post, as shared by KnowYourMeme:

KnowYourMeme

The choice of the okay symbol for the prank, as KnowYourMeme editor-in-chief Brad Kim explains, was not totally arbitrary; “Sometime during the 2016 United States presidential election,” Kim writes, “Pizza Party Ben and Milo Yiannopoulos began making the gesture together at various events supporting the candidacy of Donald Trump.”

On February 13, 2017, a few weeks before the 4chan post, Jim Hoft and Lucian Wintrich of the alt-right outlet Gateway Pundit made the okay symbol in the White House Press Room. The left-leaning media watchdog Media Matters denounced it as a “hate symbol,” noting that images of alt-right mascot Pepe the Frog sometimes showed the character doing the “okay” sign:

A far bigger blow-up occurred the following April when journalist Emma Roller, then of Splinter, tweeted a photo of alt-right celebrities Cassandra Fairbanks and Mike Cernovich making the okay sign in the White House press room:

Screengrab by Know Your Meme

To Channers and alt-right loyalists, this was the ultimate proof that the prank had worked: A left-leaning journalist had been fooled into thinking an innocuous hand gesture was a secret sign of deep, racist evil. Especially funny to them was when Roller explained her tweet by referencing a diagram … originating in the 4chan post that launched “Operation O-KKK”:

Screengrab via KnowYourMeme

At first Fairbanks and Cernovich seemed to be having a laugh over the whole situation. Fairbanks told BuzzFeed News’s Joe Bernstein, “There was a troll meme going around saying that it meant white power. But it was a joke because Trump supporters are always being called Nazis even when it isn’t true.” Cernovich told Bernstein that he borrowed the hand gesture from Jay-Z, and from a conspiracy theory alleging that Jay-Z used the gesture as a sign he’s in the Illuminati.

Fairbanks would later purport to take the accusation a bit more seriously, and sued Roller for defamation in federal court. Judge Trevor McFadden of the DC District Court, a Trump appointee, dismissed the lawsuit in an opinion memorably beginning, “Plaintiff Cassandra Fairbanks trolled the web through Twitter …”

Holt at Right Wing Watch said that meanwhile, “people at the ADL and people like me who follow this stuff full-time tried to explain that this is not actually a symbol tied to white supremacy in any way.”

Another iteration of the controversy exploded in December 2017, when the Daily Mail reported that White House intern Jack Breuer had flashed a “known ‘white power’ sign during a photo-op with President Donald Trump.” Here’s the photo in question, from then-Mail reporter Jessica Chasmar:

Breuer strenuously denied the suggestion on Twitter:

In some of our intern pictures, I emulated the OK sign the President sometimes makes. That was foolish. I should have listened more closely to the Commander-in-Chief and given the thumbs up. (1/2)

— Jack Breuer (@jjbreue) December 29, 2017

I’m proud of my Jewish heritage and strongly reject the hateful views associated with racist white power organizations. I would never make common cause with them. (2/2)

— Jack Breuer (@jjbreue) December 29, 2017

Snopes, the fact-checking website, called the accusation against Breuer “unproven,” noting that the only evidence the Mail produced for the suggestion that Breuer intentionally made the sign as a show of alt-right solidarity was an anonymous quote from a fellow White House intern. Even that source conceded, “Jack’s a good kid and is probably doing it as a joke.”

Holt, at Right Wing Watch, said that while it began as a hoax, the symbol’s success as a troll has given it some new meaning in right-wing circles it didn’t have originally. He says intentional use of it falls into two camps. “One is white supremacists making a tongue-in-cheek inside joke to each other,” he said. “Then the larger contingent of people are people who do it in the photos to get a reaction and troll the libs.”

In the former camp, he includes people like Charlottesville rally organizer Jason Kessler; in the latter, folks like Cernovich, an alt-right troll who, while certainly a racist, is “probably more concerned with just trying to make liberals and the #resistance look as bad as humanly possible.”

Zina Bash, the latest conservative ensnared in an okay sign controversy, has a more intellectual pedigree than her predecessors Breuer, Fairbanks, and Cernovich. According to her LinkedIn page, she holds degrees from Harvard College, Harvard Law School, and Penn’s Wharton business school, and she clerked for both Brett Kavanaugh on the DC Circuit (hence her presence at the hearings) and for Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito.

Until recently, she worked in the Trump White House as a special Assistant to the President for regulatory reform, legal and immigration policy. In July, she joined Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton’s office as a senior counsel.

It seems clear that Fairbanks and Cernovich were using the hand signal to troll the libs, and at least plausible that Breuer, Holt, and Wintrich were as well (the latter two are pretty prominent alt-right racists, but their incident was also before the 4chan hoax began). But was Bash? It’s certainly possible she was exposed to the idea of the troll.

That said, it’s equally if not more plausible that she was replying to a text message. (Some Twitter hand signal detectives argued she can be seen getting an alert on her phone before the hand signal appears.) Or maybe she was signaling to someone watching the livestream; sending an okay signal to a senator or staffer sitting opposite her and Kavanaugh; or just fidgeting with her fingers.

There’s simply no reason, other than an epistemological commitment to assuming the absolute worst of absolutely everyone ever associated with the Trump administration, to believe she did a small hand movement to prove her commitment to white supremacy.

It’s, of course, natural for fake news about the president and his aides to proliferate among their political critics. When I was 14, I really sincerely believed that George W. Bush had snuck in an earpiece so he could be fed answers during his debates with John Kerry, and that the “bulge” in the back of his suit jacket proved this.

This was, of course, nonsense. But Bush really was awful, and really was prosecuting a horrific war killing hundreds of thousands of people and torturing many more. That made ridiculous suggestions, like that Bush had to cheat at televised debates, seem plausible to me (that, plus I was 14 and my brain was small and unformed).

And, of course, fake news about Barack Obama (he’s secretly Kenyan!) and Bill Clinton (he’s a cocaine trafficker!) spread wildly among conservatives during their presidencies.

But in a way, the Zina Bash fake news is stranger, because it seems to confirm something we all already know: the Trump administration contains racists who want to use policy to harm nonwhite people. You don’t need a hand signal to know that.

Take, say, Rosie Gray’s exposé in the Atlantic of Homeland Security staffer Ian M. Smith, who was close with numerous white nationalists and went to a house party advertised as judenfrei (or “free of Jews”). Or take Stephen Miller, the White House domestic policy adviser responsible for the partial implementation of Trump’s promise to ban Muslims from the US and for the policy of separating immigrant families, and who alt-right leader Richard Spencer has described as a friend and ally when they were at Duke together.

Or take, I don’t know, the president: a man who as a candidate promised to ban all Muslims from the US, who calls Elizabeth Warren “Pocahontas,” who said that a Mexican-American judge is unfit to preside over cases involving him, who called Mexican immigrants “rapists,” claimed Muslim-Americans celebrated the 9/11 attacks. And then, after all that, a man who came into office and set about implementing the most anti-immigrant policies in years, slowing housing discrimination law enforcement to a halt, and reorienting the Justice Department away from fighting racial discrimination against black Americans. Oh, and who empathized with neo-Nazis after Charlottesville, and described Haiti and African nations as “shithole” countries, for good measure.

We don’t need to interpret hand signals to know where this administration stands on racism and white supremacy. We know very well where it stands.

Original Source -> No, a former Kavanaugh clerk didn’t flash a “white power sign.” Here’s what really happened.

via The Conservative Brief