#instead of actual official white house housing

[ppapagei]

Respectfully, I feel as though you misunderstood my argument & I want to clarify my position & respond to your points:

1.) She has not said that she will not fight for our trans community. These tweets you have added & McBride‘s statement on H.R. 1579 are not even contradictory. She says she disagrees w the bathroom policy, and is pointing out how the right continues to use us as a boogeyman to garner support under the guise of ''safety'' and 'protecting women'', then will cut social programs, healthcare, push abortion bans, etc., harming the very people they claim to protect. (ofc alongside trans ppl who also need these programs, medical procedures, etc.) I believe that throughout her career McBride has explicitly stood up for transgender rights as spokesperson for the HRC, being the first openly trans state senator & her work in that position to expand access to healthcare & social programs that benefit transgender people. When she is sworn in she will be the highest-ranked transgender elected official in US history, and it is disingenuous & misinformed to claim she is throwing the trans community under the bus w her recent statement on H.R. 1579.

2.) I mean performative in the sense that those pushing for this bathroom ban (Nancy Mace) are not doing it out of genuine concern for women‘s welfare. Bathroom bills & similar policies (genital checks, etc.) have & will harm cis ppl as well as trans ppl (their intended target). Women & nonwomen, cis & trans, intersex & perisex, black & white, however we will describe people, all can & will be harmed by this type of legislation. It is a performative bullshit excuse of ''protecting women'' that in reality will harm more women than it claims to ''help'' or ''protect''.

3.) Trans men are not just ''caught in the crossfire'', please don’t even try to lecture me on my own lived experience. We are also targets of transphobic bills like this, and our invisibility isn‘t a privilege, in the same way the hypervisibility of trans femmes isn’t a privilege. I have remained respectful w how I communicate w you, a stranger on the internet, but it is clear that energy is not being reciprocated. We are fighting the same fight. My intention w my original post (a personal vent that suddenly blew up lol) is that I am so incredibly fed up w this crabs-in-a-bucket mentality & infighting that holds us back. We agree on so much, but someone using different language, priorities, or strategies to fix a major societal problem (that cannot be solved by just one person or on one front btw!!!) means we should just throw them away?? How can we ever expect to achieve anything with that mentality?

4.) ''She and the rest of us will always be the disgusting trannies no matter how much we grovel and say "thank you for misgendering me Mr. Speaker, I am actually a sexual threat to cis women and I'll go use the men's bathroom like the degenerate that I am".'' This is not what she said. She is not rolling over or like detransitioning or selling out her community bc the House Speaker said to. She is literally fighting this by being the highest ranked transgender elected official in US History during a majority far-right authoritarian government. Her response is her making careful choices under INTENSE scrutiny. She is being thoughtful w her words & actions because as a trans woman in politics, the game is stacked against her. She is an elected official, but she is still a transgender woman. A transgender woman who is allowed to make decisions for her own safety & political career instead of martyring herself for ''the cause''. We need more trans ppl involved in politics, McBride is trying to build a career, not fall on her sword at the first battle. She hasn’t even entered office yet for her first term!

5.) ''What next, should POC congresspeople not fight for racial equality because it's actually in the Republicans not to be racist? Ought Rashida Tliab put out a statement saying "actually you're right, my people do deserve to be bombed and I'm not going to fight that because I'm here to work on more important issues"?'' That’s not what I‘m saying at all. I‘m not saying that McBride shouldn’t fight for trans rights, or that she’s turned her back on the community & that’s awesome! /s She is currently fighting for the trans community & our civil rights, but some people are more concerned w tone policing her reaction to targeted transphobic bullying, than they are w the bullies in the first place.

6.) It is good to think critically, I also criticize all sides of the political spectrum. Again, we agree on a lot! I just do not think this is the time to criticize how a transgender woman responds to targeted harassment. Nancy Mace brought H.R. 1579 because Sarah McBride was elected.

7.) McBride has never said she wouldn’t fight for trans civil rights, idk why you keep repeating this, it doesn’t make it true. (ofc if u have a source for this i am totally open to learning more & changing my opinion on this) If people have critiques on the policies she’s pursuing I‘d love to hear them! But this is criticizing what she’s done w an office she hasn’t even been sworn into yet. It is criticizing how she responded to bullying from her peers, which imo is cruel & lacks perspective of the larger issues at play.

7.) Yup, she represents us because she is trans. I don’t want it to be that way either but we belong to a marginalized group that has been historically oppressed in this country, and she is the first of that marginalized group to be elected to Congress. It is historically significant & many cis ppl will view her under intense scrutiny as a representative of the trans community. To compare McBride to MTG or Byron Donalds is incredibly misinformed. They differ greatly on policy & political beliefs. At least compare her to Jeanette Rankin, whose appointment as the first woman elected to Congress did not make her a sellout or traitor to women, she continued to work for womens civil rights in this country & did not compromise her beliefs in pacifism or the suffragette movement.

Like yes, criticize away, but that criticism needs to be educated, contextual, and accurate to have merit. I am not saying ''but ur not addressing republicans transphobia!'' I am saying ur criticism of how McBride responded to targeted bullying immediately following her election (again, hasn’t even entered office yet) is misinformed & inaccurate. She is not saying that she has given up on fighting for the trans community. By being in office she will continue her work, and we need more transgender role models, esp in gov/politics where anti-trans beliefs & legislation has proliferated in recent years.

Believe me, I will be paying attention to her actions in Congress & how she votes once she has been sworn in. If she does turn her back on the trans community I will be among the first to call her out on that!! You should as well! But she has not turned her back on us by deciding to run for Congress, winning her election, or her statement on H.R. 1579.

genuinely fucking furious about reactions to Mcbride, especially seeing this shit coming from fellow trans ppl…. like have you lost the fucking plot????

[walks-the-ages]

Just for the record, there's a big post going around claiming that 20 million votes weren't counted in the election, and that has been debunked multiple times, and had zero evidence or sources to begin with other than someone on twitter claiming it out of thin air.

Kamala Harris has already publicly conceded her run.

Joe Biden just gave his own speech today at the White House, announcing that Trump won the election.

"Denying the results of the election (blue version, so it's Good This TIme)" is not something that is going to help anyone, least of all the people who are getting their hopes up that things can change, only to sink to even deeper despair come January when the handover happens.

Trump won. This is not something that can be magically "fixed" by "finding 20 million votes".

Trump won, and we need to accept, and absorb that reality to move forward.

You should have been preparing for this possibility as soon as Trump announced he was running again.

He had a 50-50 chance of becoming President, and now we are indeed in this "worst timeline" of a second Trump Presidency.

You need to stop denying this fact, work on accepting it, and make your plans to build a support network before things hit the fan.

Do not wait for January 6th, 2025 to accept the fact that Trump won the election.

Do not spend the next two months in denial.

If you think the world is going to go up in literal hellfire or nuclear apocalypse if Trump becomes President, then start prepping for that scenario now if you genuinely believe it:

Learn to grow your own food.

Learn to forage wild food safely.

Learn to live off the grid.

Learn to collect your own water.

Learn first aid.

Get a firearm license and learn how to use it properly.

If you truly believe the world is going to end and the apocalypse is gonna happen to America, then act like it and prep for it.

Otherwise, stop spreading fearmongering, stop doom posting, remember that America did not dissolve into a fallout-style lawless wasteland the last time Trump was President, take a deep breath, and start telling yourself the world is not going to end.

Join local neighborhood Facebook groups and start engaging with your neighbors and local community.

Start making friends and connections at the local level.

Join local political initiatives.

Join or start a community garden.

Don't trap yourself in denial, hoping the some miracle will happen and magically make it so Harris actually won the election.

The world is not going to end.

Do something that gets you out there and actively building a better future, one small step at a time.

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[heritageposts]

A week ago, US President Joe Biden claimed that a “ceasefire” deal in Gaza was imminent and could take effect as soon as March 4. “My national security adviser tells me we are close,” he told reporters while eating ice cream in New York City. But ice cream or not, Biden’s actual position was not nearly that sweet. A subsequent statement by a senior Biden administration official claimed Israel had “basically accepted” a proposal for a temporary pause in fighting. But as of March 4, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his Mossad director were still refusing to send a delegation to Cairo, where talks with Hamas were under way. The Biden administration’s eagerness to claim victory in its search for some kind of temporary truce indicates how much it is feeling the heat of the rising global and domestic pressure demanding an immediate ceasefire, an end to the Israeli genocide, an end to the threat of a new escalation against refugee-packed Rafah, and an end to the siege of Gaza and immediate unhindered provision of massive levels of humanitarian aid. Despite Washington’s vain hopes for March 4 and the unofficial goal of a ceasefire by the beginning of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan on March 10, the deal remains elusive. Media reports indicate Biden is telling the Qatari and Egyptian leaders that he is putting pressure on Israel to agree to a truce and a captives swap. But his claim of pressuring Israel is undermined by the continuing US vetoes of ceasefire resolutions at the United Nations Security Council, most recently on February 20, as well as the continuing flow of United States weapons and money to Israel to enable its assault.

And, on the alternative resolution the Biden admin has put forth after vetoing Algeria's resolution (which called for an "immediate humanitarian ceasefire," "forced displacement of the Palestinian civilian population," and "unhindered humanitarian access to Gaza."):

[...] Linda Thomas-Greenfield, Biden’s ambassador to the UN, cast the sole veto against the Algerian resolution, and instead put forward an alternative US text, claiming it also supported a ceasefire. But the proposed US language does not call for an immediate or permanent ceasefire or an end to Israeli genocide; it does not prevent an attack on Rafah or end the Israeli siege. The proposed US resolution is not designed to end the murderous Israeli war against Gaza – nor is the deal that is currently being negotiated in Cairo. To the contrary, the provisions of the US draft resolution reflect the true intentions of the Biden administration vis-a-vis its continuing support of Israel, and reveal the limitations of the truce it is trying to orchestrate. While the US draft resolution does use the dreaded word “ceasefire” – which had been prohibited in the White House for months – it does not call for an immediate halt in the bombing, only “as soon as practicable”, with no indication of when that might be. It does not call for a permanent ceasefire either, leaving Israel free to resume its genocidal bombing – presumably with continuing US support. Virtually everything the US draft calls for is undercut by what is left out. The demand for “lifting all barriers to the provision of humanitarian assistance at scale” in Gaza certainly sounds appropriately robust. But that’s only until you realise that the text’s failure to challenge or even name the principal barrier to aid getting in – Israel’s bombardment – means that this is not a serious plan to end Israel’s deadly siege. It should not surprise anyone that “the Biden administration is not planning to punish Israel if it launches a military campaign in Rafah without ensuring civilian safety” – as Politico reported – despite claiming it wants a credible plan to ensure Palestinian safety. No one in the Biden administration has even hinted at imposing consequences for Israel’s constant rejection of the insipid appeals for restraint – such as conditioning aid on human rights standards (as required by US law) or cutting US military aid altogether. That’s what real pressure would look like. A more accurate picture of Washington’s approach to Israel’s war against Gaza is the continuing US pipeline of weapons to make Israel’s murderous assault on Gaza more effective, more efficient, and more deadly. According to the Wall Street Journal, the “Biden administration is preparing to send bombs and other weapons to Israel that would add to its military arsenal even as the US pushes for a ceasefire in Gaza.” The arms the US intends to hand over to the Israeli army include MK-82 bombs, KMU-572 Joint Direct Attack Munitions and FMU-139 bomb fuses, worth tens of millions of dollars. It is more than likely that the administration will do another end run around US Congress to send the weapons without relying on congressional approval, as it did on at least two occasions last December.

. . . full article on Al Jazeera (4 Mar 2024)

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

[luvhughes43]

BOYFRIEND | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

based off the song boyfriend by ariana grande

summary: every summer without fail you and quinn fall back into old habits... you two aren't official but the feelings are there.

word count: 3.4k

i'm a motherfuckin' train wreck i don't wanna be too much but i don't wanna miss your touch and you don't seem to give a fuck

all of your life you had four loves. there was shitty reality television, your home state-michigan, your summers at your familys lake house, and then there was quinn hughes.

you had always loved him even if you hadn't recognized it yourself. back then, both of your parents would make little comments about how they're going to end up together one day! but when you stayed in michigan and quinn moved to vancouver everything changed.

when quinn left school to pursue hockey you assumed that your friends with benefits situation would fizzle out. but it hadn't. and so youre left wanting as you watch the brunet boy trapeze around his backyard - greeting boys he'd seen countless times over the hockey season while you were stuck at school.

when you finally do catch this eye, he waltz over with a shit-eating grin. "hey, haven't seen you in awhile," he teases, pulling you under his impressive arm. you stumble into his side with practice ease and quinn tilts his head to look down your solo cup. "the fuck is that?"

you hold the cup over your head to where you assumed his lips would be, "i dont know jack made it - 'could be anything,"

quinn reaches for the cup and takes a measured sip. "that'll kill you," he winces, spilling the cups contents on the grass and tossing the cup along with it.

you sigh, peeved. quinn did this thing where he assumes he knows what's best. "i was actually drinking that,"

"yeah, yeah, i'll get you something else," he says distractedly as someone from across the yard flags him down.

just as quinns about to leave again you grab his arm and pull him back to you. even though you're embarrassed to ask you lower your voice and whisper, "when am i going to see you again?"

quinn pauses. "like, are we gonna..."

you remain silent, not wanting to say what you truly want. it was easier to hint at your forays instead of being honest about things. "i'll catch up with you tonight, promise" he kisses the underside of your wrist before shouting playfully to someone in the distance.

i don't wanna keep you waiting but i do just what i have to do and i might not be the one for you but you ain't about to have no boo

an hour later you wander inside the boy's house to grab yourself a refill. there was still no sign of quinn - and so you decide to unwind a little bit before the night truly got underway. every year the guys would host a party to reign in the end of the season. guys from across the country would travel and spend a week in michigan celebrating with packs of zyns, cases of beer, and endless rounds of golf.

"zyn?" trevor zegras says as he holds out a small white pouch towards you. you shake your head no and trevor shoves the circular box back into his short pockets.

"i heard he's single," a girl to your left whispers loudly to a group of her friends. trevors head turns instinctively,but you pay the group of girls no attention.

"ten bucks they're talking about me," trevor leans down and whispers.

"twenty bucks they're not," you announce back and then the two of you messily shake on it. you probably shouldn't have gone to jack for a refill on his concoction but quinn was taking too long so...

"well quinns hot so if he is single, i'll try it," you're not sure what it was exactly but your face heats up regardless. beside you, trevor groans and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket.

youre pretty sure he tries to hand you a wad of crumpled up ones but you were no longer paying attention to trevor or your bets. instead, your focus shifted to a gorgeous blonde hyping herself up to go and talk to your best friend.

'cause I know we be so complicated but we be so smitten, it's crazy i can't have what I want, but neither can you

"alright... i know they're wrinkled but cash is legal tender..." trevor trails off obnoxiously and thus you grab hold of his ten dollars clenching your fist.

"i'll see you later?" you call out distractedly, solely focused on the blonde approaching quinn across the room.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and I don't want you to see nobody

it was wrong to use others for personal gain but you were sure there had to be an exception for making somebody jealous. plus, it wasn't like quinn was a saint either.

you vividly remember how quinn chatted up some girl in your class two years ago at a frat party. it was a shitty thing to do, considering how much you complained about that particular girls work ethic after she left you hanging on a group project.

the next morning, quinn had stopped by your apartment to apologize with a bouquet of peonies in hand. you had reluctantly forgiven him, but because the two of you weren't exactly exclusive the fight dissolved on your tongue before you could even properly fight about it.

"hey baby," you tease all your syllables - making sure the baby really rings out in tune. quinns smile doesn't falter at your emergence, instead, he grins as his attention turns from the blonde and onto you.

"y/n," he glances between you and the new girl. you'd have to work for his attention a little more than you'd like to tonight. "as i was saying..." quinn resumes his conversation with the girl slowly, trying his hardest to piss you off.

a tuft of dark black hair peeks it's way through your peripheral and your head immediately turns to find alex turcotte standing alone a few feet away. "turcs!" you call out in the same teasing tone you'd used on quinn and alexs attention is immediately focused on you.

"baby!" he yells jovially, and you could not have planned something better yourself. baby, was a nickname assigned to you after a particular summer in which you were obsessed with dirty dancing. you had pranced around the house to its soundtrack and forced anybody who was around to dance with you - all embarrassingly bad imitations of patrick swayze.

you dont turn to acknowledge quinns reaction but you imagine it as you sway your way over to alex. quinns face would be scrunched up in annoyance, and his eyes would darken just a tad to accompany his scowl. if there was one thing quinn hated more than he liked teasing you, it was you teasing him back.

"so strong!" you laugh loudly, gripping onto alex's arm. his hand brushes across your lower back and you smile brightly when he leaves it resting there.

"you really know how to work a guy, huh?" he laughs before removing his hand altogether. "what are you drinking?" he asks then, shifting tones dramatically from flirtatious to friends-since-childhood.

"i don't know jack made it," you hold the cup up to his face and he recoils with a scuff.

"you're going to be so sick tomorrow,"

you take a sip of your drink before glancing back in quinns direction. his dark eyes were still trained on you but the blonde was still at his side. flirting with alex was truly petty. both you and quinn knew nothing would ever come of it but it was still fun to get him riled up anyway.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"want to get me something else?" you ask with a soft voice and you hope it carries to where quinns standing.

alex looks at you momentarily before shaking his head quickly. "uh, yeah, yeah let's go to the kitchen..." you take the lead in your venture to the kitchen and alex slinks his arm around your waist.

you barely make it out of the living room before quinn interrupts your path. "hey man, its been awhile," his smile is strained as he reaches a hand out to alex. the two greet each other and the flashes of disappointment on quinns face is evident when alex doesnt take his arm away from your body.

"where ya two heading?" he asks.

alex hits his solo cup against yours and a slosh of molten liquid rolls over the rim of your cup and onto your new white shoes. "this one needs a new drink. jack made her another one his his "concoctions,"" alex laughs easily but quinns face is entirely tense.

you stay silent.

"oh, i can take her," quinn says with a slight edge.

"it's no worries i can do it," alex assures him with a small smile. "i think jacks in the kitchen and i wanna say hello," he adds when quinn makes no move to back down.

"uh, i just saw him go outside actually," quinn states and you wonder if you should interrupt.

the two boys stare at each other tensely and alex drops his hand from your waist. "i'll see you later baby?" alex mutters lowly, and your head spins from whatever moment you just missed right there.

you nod dismissively to alex and watch in silence as he rapidly walks out of the living room. "what was that for?" you ask quinn as soon as you turn to face him. as expected, his eyebrows were scrunched together and his face show small signs of annoyance.

"you need a drink," is all quinn responds with, and you follow behind him slowly as he maneuvers his way through small crowds of people.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

your vodka cranberry was slowly spilling its contents onto quinns hardwood floor as it lay discarded.

"your floors getting all wet," you mumble against quinns lips the second the two of you pull apart. his hair was messy and his cheeks flush when he notices you staring.

"dont care," he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his own. "'been too long sine i've seen you last,"

you kiss his neck teasingly, "the wood will get ruined,"

quinn sighs and pulls away from you. he strips his shirt off and lets it fall atop your discarded solo cup. his confidence was something that had grown over the years and you were pleasantly delighted.

"thank you," you whisper to him as he slides his arms back against you. you wait for him to say something - mention what happened downstairs but quinn remains silent.

instead, he leads you backwards to his bed with well practiced ease. the games you two play were fun when they ended up like this, but at the same time you felt a twinge for something more.

even though you ain't mine, i promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in love 'cause baby, when push comes to shove damn baby, i'm a train wreck, too (too) i lose my mind when it comes to you i take time with the ones I choose and I don't want to smile if it ain't from you, yeah

the sun streams through quinns open curtains, blinding him momentarily as his eyes adjust to the morning light. when everything comes into focus the first thing he notices is your figure curled up on the other side of his bed like a cat. quinn stretches and despite the brief disturbance your eyes stay firmly closed.

downstairs the house was a mess. empty bottles and cups littered the wood floors and empty food wrappers crinkle uncomfortably under quinns tired feet.

"morning," jack says as soon as his older brother steps into the dimly lit kitchen. jacks sandy hair is tousled and if his undereye bags were any indication of how he was feeling... it was clear that he was unwell.

"you look like shit," quinn chuckles as he tosses jack a bottle of aspirin.

"gee, thanks." jack rolls his eyes but pops a pill nonetheless.

quinn fixes himself some toast and the two brothers sit in comfortable silence.

"where's yn," jack asks, nursing a yellow gatorade.

"sleeping,"

jack hums in acknowledgement. he stares inquisitively at his brother - silently hinting at what's going on between the blurred lines of quinns and yns relationship, but quinn ignores him.

i know we be so complicated lovin' you sometime drive me crazy 'cause i can't have what I want and neither can you

late the next afternoon after tirelessly scrubbing down the floors and tossing out empty cans, the group of hockey players and friends make their way onto the lake.

as always, quinn drives and docks the boat in the middle of the lake so the group could swim and yn could suntan on the hard, white seats of the boat.

quinn wasnt an idiot. he knew that his best friend was hot. the stolen glances and not-so-subtle double takes weren't lost on him as his friends ogled her. she was undeniably gorgeous and someday their relationship wouldn't be enough anymore. she would eventually want more, and quinn wasn't sure he'd be able to give her a relationship she deserved from two thousand miles away.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and i don't want you to see nobody

˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, bradytkachuk, joshnorris10, 3 333 others

yourusername daydreamin' 🧸

"what's the deal with yn and quinn anyway? have they always been so... intense?" alexander holtz asks between shooting pool.

jack sighs, "yeah theyre always like that. i wish they'd just get over whatever they've got going on and get together already. its honestly painful to watch," jack jokes tensely.

alex tuts, "i wish she were available"

another guy hums, "she's a total smoke show,"

"ew, shes like our sister," luke pipes up.

"your sister maybe," someone laughs. "she ain't mine,"

quinn silently turns away from the rec room to find you.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"hey," you smile sweetly at quinns presence. he stares at you simply before sitting down on the decksteps next to you. he frowns when you set your book down beside you and you press your knee to his in an attempt to calm him. "what's wrong?"

quinn sighs deeply. "i just - i dont know. what are we doing?"

"what do you mean?" you ask even though you know where this conversation is heading.

quinn gestures between the two of you, "we've... things are different now,"

"i don't know what you're talking about," you say, genuinely taken off guard. "if this is about the party...?"

"we'd be an awful couple," quinn cuts in.

"who called us a couple?,"

"look, you're going to want more eventually and-"

you scoff. "are you going to actually talk to me? because i'm fine with out arrangement," you lie.

quinn stares at you with an unreadable expression. "look, it's not going to work"

"did the guys say something to you?" you bite. you reach your hand out to quinn but he pushes it away.

"no. i just don't think us being... involved... is a good idea anymore,"

"'involved'" you say sarcastically. you've been hooking up for three years now.

quinn stands up suddenly, "yeah. it's over - i'm over it,"

"okay?" youre defiant. "don't come begging to me when you see me with another guy - or when you need a quick lay. god, youre such an asshole!"

i wanna kiss you (yeah), don't wanna miss you (yeah) but i can't be with you 'cause i got issues yeah, on the surface, seem like it's easy careful with words, but it's still hard to read me

quinn didn't know why he shut everything down. he didn't want to - not really anyway. it was all so stupid and he shouldn't have reacted at all.

Stress high when the trust low (mmm) Bad vibes, where'd the fun go? (Oh) Try to open up and love more (love more) Try to open up and love more

the two friends move around each other awkwardly and the tension in the house was palpable. you start to skip out on summer activities, and quinn no longer seems to enjoy driving out into the lake when you were no longer sitting by his side. everything felt wrong.

If you were my boyfriend If you were my girlfriend I probably wouldn't see nobody else But I can't guarantee that by myself

"you know what, i'm glad we decided to all us quits. you were totally right! we wouldnt have made a good couple - you probably wouldnt have stopped seeing other people," your tone is scorching as you finally catch quinn alone.

"yeah well considering your track record you'd probably have gotten with somebody else before i even boarded my flight back to van," quinns quick to defend himself - leaving you reeling.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you seethe, letting all your emotions wash over you at once.

"alex, that guy from u of m, the fucking football player!" quinn stresses the names of the last two, knowing those were the guys you hooked up while you were both at school.

you throw your arms up in the air, "you are such a hypocrite! do you know that? like seriously. lets not go tit for tat here quinn because trust i'll win every time,"

"everything always a game with you,"

you stare at him blankly. "what are we doing then? you told me the jealously was fun, you were the one who led me to your bed last week! you didn't want to get into a relationship in a first place!"

"so did you! don't spin this back on me!"

"i never said that!" you yell, "and i never got with alex,"

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, I ain't your girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else (nobody) And I don't want you to see nobody

"you might as well be," quinn tries to bait you but you dont respond.

tears well up in your eyes, "you said you didn't see us being in an actual relationship"

at the sight of your tears quinn starts to backtrack. "im sorry-"

"no, i started all this," you say, wiping away your tears with the back of your sleeve. "i'm sorry for getting mad at you - i'm done,"

"what do you mean youre done?" quinn responds, following behind you as you walk back into the lake house. as soon as the sliding door slams shut heads turn towards the two of you.

"you said you were done and i agree," you say simply, tears threatening to spill over as you catch sight of luke staring at you in confusion.

without another word you storm up the stairs and begin packing your suitcase.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you know you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah, mmm) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody (oh yeah)

your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as you drive the fifteen minute trip to your parents house. it was over, finally over between the two of you.

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else And I don't want you to see nobody

a week went by, and everybody presses quinn on why you left.

"i don't know guys, stop asking me about it," his answer stays the same, although his undereyes get considerably darker as the days go by.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]

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liked by _alexturcotte, jackhughes, yourfriend, and 1 403 others

yourusername baby loves 🎧

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yourfriend baby loves im tryna talk to youuuuu

yourusername theres a boy ! and i dont quite know... what to dooo

_alexturcotte stunner ⚡️

user01 did u and quinn have a fight or something ? why did u guys unfollow each other lololll

user05 literal princess !!!

user11 quinn unfollowed and alex commenting... 👀

_quinnhughes

liked by lhughes_06, bradytkachuk, 18 005 others

_quinnhughes summa with the brothers 🤟

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trevorzegras #Aesthetic

user08 no mention of yn... were cooked

user15 first summer photo numb in yearrrssss where yn didnt make a feature... 🫣👀

────୨ৎ──── ended insanely abruptly but i wanted to post something for u guys today😭

────୨ৎ────

────୨ৎ────

[odinsblog]

Patrick Braxton became the first Black mayor of Newbern, Alabama, when he was elected in 2020, but since then he has fought with the previous administration to actually serve in office. (Aallyah Wright/Capital B)

NEWBERN, Ala. — There’s a power struggle in Newbern, Alabama, and the rural town’s first Black mayor is at war with the previous administration who he says locked him out of Town Hall.

After years of racist harassment and intimidation, Patrick Braxton is fed up, and in a federal civil rights lawsuit he is accusing town officials of conspiring to deny his civil rights and his position because of his race.

“When I first became mayor, [a white woman told me] the town was not ready for a Black mayor,” Braxton recalls.

The town is 85% Black, and 29% of Black people here live below the poverty line.

“What did she mean by the town wasn’t ready for a Black mayor? They, meaning white people?” Capital B asked.

“Yes. No change,” Braxton says.

Decades removed from a seemingly Jim Crow South, white people continue to thwart Black political progress by refusing to allow them to govern themselves or participate in the country’s democracy, several residents told Capital B. While litigation may take months or years to resolve, Braxton and community members are working to organize voter education, registration, and transportation ahead of the 2024 general election.

But the tension has been brewing for years.

Two years ago, Braxton says he was the only volunteer firefighter in his department to respond to a tree fire near a Black person’s home in the town of 275 people. As Braxton, 57, actively worked to put out the fire, he says, one of his white colleagues tried to take the keys to his fire truck to keep him from using it.

In another incident, Braxton, who was off duty at the time, overheard an emergency dispatch call for a Black woman experiencing a heart attack. He drove to the fire station to retrieve the automated external defibrillator, or AED machine, but the locks were changed, so he couldn’t get into the facility. He raced back to his house, grabbed his personal machine, and drove over to the house, but he didn’t make it in time to save her. Braxton wasn’t able to gain access to the building or equipment until the Hale County Emergency Management Agency director intervened, the lawsuit said.

“I have been on several house fires by myself,” Braxton says. “They hear the radio and wouldn’t come. I know they hear it because I called dispatch, and dispatch set the tone call three or four times for Newbern because we got a certain tone.”

This has become the new norm for Braxton ever since he became the first Black mayor of his hometown in 2020. For the past three years, he’s been fighting to serve and hold on to the title of mayor, first reported by Lee Hedgepeth, a freelance journalist based in Alabama.

Incorporated in 1854, Newbern, Alabama, today has a population of 275 people — 85% of whom are Black. (Aallyah Wright/Capital B)

Not only has he been locked out of the town hall and fought fires alone, but he’s been followed by a drone and unable to retrieve the town’s mail and financial accounts, he says. Rather than concede, Haywood “Woody” Stokes III, the former white mayor, along with his council members, reappointed themselves to their positions after ordering a special election that no one knew about.

Braxton is suing them, the People’s Bank of Greensboro, and the postmaster at the U.S. Post Office.

For at least 60 years, there’s never been an election in the town. Instead, the mantle has been treated as a “hand me down” by the small percentage of white residents, according to several residents Capital B interviewed. After being the only one to submit qualifying paperwork and statement of economic interests, Braxton became the mayor.

(continue reading)

[zexapher]

Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days

They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.

The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.

You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.

This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).

Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.

The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.

Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.

Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.

Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!

[txttletale]

can you elaborate on the reasons ? what criticisms do you disagree with?

criticisms i disagree with:

"they character assassinated jane" amiguita there was no character to assisnate.

"they character assassinated dirk" dirk is at his most interesting and likeable ever and is just about the only redeeming thing about these

"they were just written to spite the fans" if true tht would have been Epic, and Based. but they very obviously werent

"its too violent and sexual for cheap shock humour" did you. read homestuck, the web comic? what were you Expecting... also like it or not the sexual content isnt just random or gratuitous it is obviously trying to be a conclusion to the whoel coming-of-age theme of homestuck as a work.

"so-and-so is out of character" homestuck characters are malleable little dolls that can be rearranged to suit the narrative at a whim. this is true about all fictional characters ofc but it is like explicitly textually metaphysically true in homestuck

my criticisms:

the heavy-handed political messaging is fucking tedious and awful and so profoundly of its time in a bad way. its clearly a reaction to trump but it doesnt have anything interesting to say about him or fascism or racism or anything, really, except, um. Cheeto in the white house?. the whole Evil Jane plot is too stupid and contrived for the sake of the satire to take seriously but also its awful satire written by liberals who think fascism as invented in 2016 by the orange man

god can we fucking talk about how fucking embarassing the obama shit is. jesus fucking christ. for a start it's a callback to a running jhoke in homestuck that is straight up just super racist. and they decide to pivot from the joke being 'its funny that theres a black president', which is good, but they pivot it to 'obama seems so heroic and magical now that we're stuck with the Orange Man', which, admittedly, is better than Being Racist, but also sucks shit. he killed people amiguitas.

'post-canon' is cheap bullshit. like, the work makes a big deal about tryng to talk about What Canon Is, without ever acknowledging the concept of, like, IP law. claiming to just be a non-canon continuation like any other when it's made by people with the Official Exclusive Legal Rights just feels hollow and detooths any liberatory/deconstructive potential there. unironically my opinion of it would go up like tenfold if it had been actually published in AO3 instead of just joking about it.

in general i think that all of the attempt to deconstruct fiction or storytelling is rooted in a really weird and flawed model of storytelling. a lot of it seems to be taking an extremely long route to writing something bad on purpose and then saying 'see, if you wrote something like this, it would be bad'. Okay. i like deconstructive collapsing narrative shit in e.g. if on a winter's night a traveller because i think calvino has trenchant and interesting insights about literature and storytelling. i do think hussie also has those but they essentially dropped and explored all of them in homestuck and the epilogues just seem like an attempt to connect ohomstuck's disparate and contradictory approaches to Narrative into one overarching schemata and then crtiique that schemata, which i think is a doomed project that results in little of interest to me.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Brotherly Approval

quinn hughes x nhl player!reader

note: I really liked the request and even though im not super proud of this im learning that not everything has to be perfect as long as it's enjoyable for y'all to read

After spending two weeks with Y/n’s parents in Montreal, the couple made their way to the lake house. They were now getting close to the house so of course Y/n was thinking of everything that could ever possibly go wrong. Y/n had met Quinn’s family before, but they weren’t really official at that time, only having met them after games but with the possibility of cameras around it wasn’t what she wanted it to be. But now that she was staying with them for the summer it was time to make a good impression.

“But you’ve already met them.” “Well yeah, but that was just as your teammate… who you occasionally slept with, but now they’re meeting me as your girlfriend. It’s completely different.” “Clearly.” “I don’t appreciate your attitude.” “I was agreeing with you!” “No you weren’t.” They playfully fought back and forth a little more before Quinn pulled into the driveway of the infamous lake house.

Y/n was right, meeting them was different this time. Instead of a quick ‘hello’ then going on her way she was cooking dinners with Ellen, talking to Jim about off-season training, and spending days with the group on the lake. 

For once everything was good. And she was so thankful, she was with the man she loved, without herself in her own way of that. And he loved her back.

-

They’d been out on the lake for a while now, a couple were jumping in now that they were in a good spot. Y/n stood from where she sat next to Quinn and took off her shirt, which was actually one of Quinn’s old UMich shirts.

Subtly Quinn looks her up and down, admiring her body in her bikini, he notices the string on the side of her hip, seeming to want to come loose. He stops her wordlessly with a hand on the inside of her thigh and softly he pulls her more in front of him. Y/n seemed unbothered as she continued talking to Trevor who was in the water.

Luke glanced over hearing the girl’s laugh, as well as Trevor’s loud voice that was unmistakable, he watched his brother turn the girl so he could tie the otherside tighter and gave her a tap on her ass when he was done. 

The small moment, something that seemed meaningless, meant so much. The way Y/n was so comfortable, not for a second questioning why her boyfriend was messing with the strings of her bikini in public. And the way Quinn gave the action no thought. It made Luke hope he found that. Someone he was effortlessly comfortable with.

-

Y/n came back from the bathroom, deciding instead of sitting back on the chair to sit on Quinn’s lap. She was tired and needed the touch of her boyfriend, she knew he wasn’t big on pda but being this tired she wasn’t really thinking.

Quinn didn’t think too much of it, taking his phone into one hand and spreading his arms for her to sit. She sat sideways on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck then giving him a forehead kiss before laying her head on his chest. He also gave her a forehead kiss when she settled after he pushed the hair out of her face.

“Hi.” “Hi.” 

Jack turned his head after hearing the loving couple muttering to each other. Quinn had ever been this comfortable with pda from a girl in front of him ever. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but the smile on Quinn’s face and Y/n hiding her in his brother’s neck, he assumed he didn’t want to know. 

His assumption was proven right when Quinn lifted both of them from the couch and said they were going to ‘bed’. He couldn’t take his eyes away from them, he could tell Quinn was so happy. 

“He’s happy.” Jack said, glancing at Luke who was sitting next to him, Luke without looking away from the video game he was playing said, “Yeah he is. Y/n’s good for him.”

-

Lining up her shot, focusing and trying very hard to tune out the noise in the room as she plays pool against Luke. Softly hitting the white ball just enough for it to hit the striped ball into the corner pocket. Luke then circled the table, trying to find a shot. Y/n was smiling, she could tell she was going to win.

Quinn was on the other side of the room, he sat on the couch only half-listening to the conversation he was in with Jack and Brady. He couldn’t help it, he loved seeing his girl smiling, and he really loved seeing her get close to his brother’s.

“Q! Bro, were you listening?” “Kinda.” He replied to his brother’s annoying interruption from his favourite pass-time; watching Y/n smile and listening to her laugh. Getting a hit on his knee by said annoying brother he breaks his gaze from the girl to look back at the boys.

“What?” Brady was no longer there, unbeknownst to the man Jack had politely shooed Brady off, he got it he had a brother. “Damn, don’t have to be so annoyed. I just wanted to say I was happy for you. And that except for the fact that she loves you, she seems really cool.” “Aw gee, thanks.” “Me and Luke were talking when y’all went to ‘bed’ the other night. We both really like her.” 

Even though they joke a lot, Jack and Luke’s opinion meant a lot to Quinn; they were brothers. And hearing he had his little brothers’ approval of the woman he loved made him really happy. Though he’d probably only admit that to his mom and Y/n. 

“Thanks, man. Means a lot.” Jack got up with a nod and a pat on his brother’s back as he made his way to get another beer.

“Quinny! I won!” Her excited words cut Quinn from his thoughts, smiling when he saw how happy she was and moved her name up on the pool leaderboard.

~taglist~

@books-hlmc @bunbunbl0gs @alwaysclassyeagle

[inmyheaddd]

beneath the same stars - averyjameson

summary: avery’s mind is flooded with doubts about the hawthorne house, and thoughts that she hasn’t told anyone. somehow, she finds herself confiding in jameson hawthorne. a/n: aww baby averyjameson :( this takes place before they are officially together / between tig/thl (jameson is sooo down bad omg) wc: 1.8k

the rooftop wasn’t her favorite spot, but it was his, and tonight, avery didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. 

after avery had climbed up very cautiously, she noticed jameson sitting dangerously close to the edge, sitting with his legs dangling off, without a care in the world. 

the wind rippled through his half-buttoned white shirt, and he turned around right as avery neared, sending her one of those grins that made her brain feel light, and kept his eyes on her right until she sat next to him.

she forced herself to ignore it, “you could’ve told me you were coming up here,” she said, settling down a few feet away— close, but not too close. and much further away from the edge.

he analyzed the way she looked from where she sat, before looking back at the sky infront of him. “figured you’d find me anyway.”

jameson reached over to the other side of him, then held out a recently opened bar of dark chocolate to avery. 

she stared at the chocolate for a second before taking it. 

“i hate that you’re actually right sometimes.” she didn’t eat the chocolate right away, and just stared at the floor. 

jameson looked intrigued. “careful, mystery girl, that almost sounded like a compliment.” he grinned, but his tone was softer than usual. he could sense something was up with avery. 

he gave her a long look, then eyed the distance between them, asking a silent question. 

avery gave a slight nod, and jameson moved to sit beside her. shoulders nearly touching, so close jameson could practically hear her mind whirring. 

they sat like that for a while, the silence stretching but not breaking. avery could hear the soft rustle of the wind through the trees, and the sound of cars far away. 

it made her think of how different this was to her life just a few months ago. nearly nothing was the same.

“sometimes,” she said suddenly, trailing off with her voice barely audible. “sometimes i think about leaving,” she exhaled a deep breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

jameson turned his head slightly, but not all the way. “leaving hawthorne house?”

“yeah.” she picked at the wrapper of the chocolate, tearing it into smaller and smaller and smaller pieces. “the house. the money. all of it.”

“would you, though?” his tone was careful, which is a word that was almost never used to describe anything about jameson. but with her, he was careful. 

avery shrugged. “i don’t know. i mean, it’s too late, right? there’s people who want the worst for me. without oren and everything, i’d be in danger.” she looked at her lap, mumbling quietly and trying to sound detached. 

she couldn’t tear the small pieces of wrapper any more, so fiddled with her fingers instead. 

“isn’t that crazy?” she chuckled as she set her hands down back in her lap, but it sounded hollow. “people i don’t even know, people who know nothing about me, who want to harm me. or— or people that know too much about me, or people that knew your grandfather, or—“  she cut her nervous rambling off with a sigh, tucking her hair behind her ears.

she couldn’t believe what her life was now. this was the first time she was really confiding to anyone other than libby or max about these thoughts she’s been having, about the huge what ifs. 

jameson observed her quietly. he wanted to reach out, but he didn’t know if it was alright to do that yet. 

for some reason that avery couldn’t quite pinpoint, she felt like she could actually talk to him.  “i just— sometimes i wonder if i should’ve left sooner. or just never have come. then i wouldn’t have to deal with all of this.” 

she crossed her arms over her chest as the wind got stronger, and pulled her shirts sleeves over her hands. “it just kind of feels like i don’t belong here, no matter what i do.”

jameson was oddly silent for a moment, and slowly tore his gaze away from avery and back to the sky that was beginning to set. 

avery quickly began to worry— did she over-share? she definitely overshared, she didn’t even know jameson all that well. why was he so silent? why on earth did she—

“you’re wrong about that,” jameson finally said.

avery’s thoughts were put to a halt. “about what?”

“saying you don’t belong.” he answered, “you belong more than any of us, look at you, heiress. you’re incredibly intelligent in all aspects. in your first few days, you solved the keys faster than anyone else. the house could do with a few more complicated geniuses. ” he sent her a small grin, “maybe you belong more than you’d like to admit. 

avery shook her head and looked away, the wind whipping through her hair. “i don’t know, jameson. sure, i solved them faster, but that doesn’t mean anything, not really.” she said, “and i’m not complicated.”

jameson raised a brow.

she narrowed her eyes, “what’s that supposed to mean?

“whatever you want it to mean, heiress.” he said through a chuckle. “i’m just saying, i didn’t call you mystery girl for no reason.”

“you barely even call me that anymore.” avery said before she could even think.

jameson grinned, “why, you miss it?”

“absolutely not.” avery shook heir head, fighting a small smile. jameson didn’t say anything else as he watched her. he could sense there was something else waiting to be asked.

avery’s smile faded, and she pressed her lips together as she formulated her words. “jameson?”

“yes, heiress?”

“you always seem so sure of yourself. don’t you ever think you’re doing the wrong thing— like, making the wrong choices?”

a smile finally reappeared on jamesons face, and avery realized that she had missed seeing it. the thing is though, the smile wasn’t like his usual one, it was almost like one of those bitter ones. 

his head was tilted up with his adam’s apple on full view, “all the damn time,” he said, a slight shake of his head as he looked up at the sky. 

avery got the feeling that there was a lot more to jameson hawthorne than what she had thought originally. “and, what do you do about it?” she stayed looking at him, even when he wasn’t looking at her. 

he chuckled lowly, gaze still up at the sky.“nothing.” 

that answer didn’t surprise avery in the slightest. she hummed, “nothing at all?” 

“nothing at all, heiress.”

“nothing at all,” she nodded as she repeated quietly, as if she was tasting the words on her lips. 

he nudged her shoulder gently, that one cheshire grin finally back on his face. “you got it.” 

avery’s face broke into a small smile despite herself, and jamesons grin only widened. 

“why do you come up here so much?”

“you have a lot of questions today.”

she looked back at her lap, “sorry, i didn’t mean to—“

“don’t apologize,” he cut in. “i’d answer anything you ask.” he sent her one of those joking grins, but it didn’t feel like a joke. “to answer your question, mystery girl, its because i can see everything from up here.” 

that’s all he said, but there was more to it. he would come here to think— he always had since he was a kid. jameson was told he wasn’t as creative as his brothers, wasn’t as determined, wasn’t as talented. 

he would literally come up here to see the bigger picture— look for more possibilities, more answers, and then he could maybe find who he really was.

avery looked ahead at the landscape infront of her, her fingers playing with the torn chocolate wrapper. she hadn’t even taken a single bite.

“sometimes,” jameson continued softly, breaking the quiet, “i think this is the only place that makes sense.”

she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “a rooftop?”

“not just any rooftop, heiress,” he said, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “this one. and as a bonus, thisview.” he tilted his head toward her, his meaning unmistakable.

her heart stuttered, and she hated how he always managed to do that. “you’re so strange,” she muttered, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her with a smile.

he shrugged, “i try.” he said as he leant back on his hands behind him. 

avery let the silence stretch, also leaning back slightly to take in the view. 

the sky was bruised with shades of deep blue and purple now, stars faintly visible against the last streaks of orange. 

she felt the weight of jameson’s presence beside her, solid and steady, even as her thoughts spun.

but then movement caught her eye. down below, the gravel driveway lit up with headlights as a sleek black car rolled to a stop.

her chest tightened when she saw who stepped out. oren, his stance sharp and alert as always. then alisa, perfectly composed, her phone already in her hand. and finally—grayson.

he adjusted his jacket as he stepped out, his expression unreadable, the way it always was. 

he said something to alisa that avery couldn’t hear, and she watched as they moved toward the house together.

she didn’t know why, but the sight made her stomach twist. she hoped jameson didn’t see the way her shoulders tensed. 

“looks like the cavalry’s back,” jameson said casually, his voice pulling her back to the present. 

he’d noticed them too, of course.

avery and jameson shared a look. yes, he sounded casual, and he did try to put on an expression of nonchalance, but avery saw through it.

just like how he saw through her constant attempts of looking unfazed. 

avery looked away, then exhaled. “i should probably go.”

jameson didn’t move. he stayed sitting, leaning back on his hands, his gaze flicking from the driveway to her. “are you in trouble, heiress?”

“i never even know when i am,” she said, smiling already. “that shared look on alisa and oren’s is never a good sign, though.” she said as she looked down at him.

“are my reckless antics rubbing off on you?” he narrowed his eyes jokingly, tilting his head. 

“no. in your dreams.” she let out a chuckle, and jameson loved the sound. when she spoke again, her voice was quiter. 

she tried to make it sound like a joke though. “i just can’t seem to make the right choices recently. i’m always doing the wrong thing.” she admitted, “i mean, according to alisa.” 

he gave her a slight shake of his head, “it’s impossible to fully get it right with alisa. don’t lose your mind over it.” he told her, “nobody would know what to do if they were in your situation, and i highly doubt anybody could possibly handle this as well as you.” 

“i… .” she trailed off, unsure on how to respond, “yeah, alisa can be hard to please, i guess. ”  

she chose not to comment on anything else. she tried to keep her expression blank, like his words didn’t make her heart accelerate 10x faster.

jameson could tell she still wouldn’t believe the words he had said, how she was handling things, but he didn’t press the matter any longer.

“goodnight, then, heiress.” jameson gave her that lazy half-grin of his.

she hesitated for half a second, then she said “night, jameson.” 

then she turned and climbed back down the way she’d come.

when she was gone, jameson shifted to sit where she’d been, still close to the edge but not quite at it. the bar of dark chocolate lay on the ground forgotten, and he stared out at the horizon, now dotted with stars.

the rooftop felt bigger without her, quieter in a way he didn’t really like. but jameson stayed there, legs dangling over the edge, like he always did. 

jameson stared out into the sky and wondered— when had avery become not just part of the view; but part of the reason he kept looking?

tag list: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams 

@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm

@danni-1-graysons-version

[iknowher]

⠀⠀⠀⠀🍬ㅤ۫ ⠀𝓣rick or 𝓣reat 𝓓ick ࣪ ᚐ ִ

art by @ baobei_bu on tmblr.

🎃ㅤ♰ ㅤ˙ㅤsum. ㅤbored before a halloween party, you summon a demon for fun. to your surprise, incubus!gojo appears, offering you a tempting choice: "trick or dick?" 👻ㅤ♰ ㅤ˙ㅤcw.ㅤsmut (18+), squirting, semen.. reader is described female, mentions about demonic rituals 😈ㅤ♰ ㅤ˙ㅤwc.ㅤ1,1k 𓉸 𓈒ㅤmy* note: the person who drew the art is so goated fr

you looked at the clock.. still a couple hours to go till the halloween party officially began. you decided the best way to endorse your time was to do a dare, of course! you went on google: how to summon demons… you figured out that it was probably fake, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. first step was to kill a stranger?? yeah no. you still had a couple of red crayons from kindergarten, and you drew a baphomet symbol. safe to say it didn’t even look remotely to what you were supposed to draw. now you just need 4 candles! good thing you hoarded bath&body candles like no tomorrow. wow, you were finally done— and the aroma spread through the whole house! time for the actual incantation… te invoco a profundus inferni… no response.. wait— is there seriously an earthquake? the whole vicinity shook around you, you were sure the earth was gonna collapse at how hard it was shaking. good thing it only lasted a few seconds. it was a strange occurrence, sure, but something else was in front of you. did it actually work?! but it was no ordinary demon now that’d be boring. you noticed a man in front of you with a sly smirk. he had white, frosty hair and blue eyes. not to mention the slutty outfit he had on. a latex bodysuit with a heart cut-out, there were no sleeves— so you could see the absolutely toned arms. his horns were a gradient of purple to black and the tip of his tail was heart-shaped. actually, you both were kind of matching— you had the same outfit, but with fake horns and tail of course. you guys were giving couple goals! anywho, his eyes dropped from your boobs heart cut-out back to your face. ‘’what? you decided to dress up as me for halloween?’’ he teased you, ‘’i’m quite endeared.’’ you furrow your eyebrows, you just found the costume at a walmart. ‘’no? i didn’t even know you existed.’’ you couldn’t help but admit he was certainly attractive, and the bulge in his probably-too-tight bodysuit was a bit too noticeable… ‘’well, human, since you summoned me and awakened me from my eternal slumber..’’ he thought for a moment, placing one finger on his chin. ‘’trick or dick?’’ you were confused, what type of question was that? normally it was trick or treat. however.. you couldn’t help but consider that he didn’t look like an ordinary demon, he had a purple and pink color scheme— instead of the normal black and red. ‘’what are you?’’ you asked blatantly. ‘’oh.. mortals nowadays… i’m an incubus.’’ what did he just say? in-cum-us? you clenched your thighs together, rubbing against your core. ‘’omg.. are you stupid or stupid. i’m a sex demon, silly.’’ he slowly stepped up to you, ‘’so, answer me.. trick or dick?’’ you gulped, looking around.. it wouldn’t hurt to do it once, and you’d have to wait for that party anyways.. so, ‘’dick.’’

now, somehow, you’re here on the couch with him on top of you. you were stripped of all your clothes, besides your horns, since he said that it was ‘’cute’’. surprisingly enough, for a sex demon, he took things gentle in the beginning. but it wasn’t long before you pleaded him to go faster. ‘’faster.. ‘s too slow.’’ he rolled his eyes, ‘’foolish.. okay.’’ he picked up the pace by quite a lot, his thick and long shaft reached every area, as if your pussy was practically molded for him. he couldn’t help but also pay attention to your tits, fondling them. you couldn’t keep in your moans, your neighbors probably heard.. whatever, you whimpered.. ‘’i’m close..’’ his smirk turned into a grin. as he started rubbing your clit, it didn’t take long till you cummed. cum x1. oh.. how did we get here? you were on your knees, begging him to let you suck him off. he agreed hesitantly, but that’s ‘cause he didn’t wanna moan more than you. your tongue licked the sides, and he already let out the most sluttiest mewl ever. you finally began sucking him off, his hand coming on top of your head to pull on your hair. sure, it did hurt, but you kinda liked it..! the tip of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat, and let’s just say your gag reflex is absolutely ass. soon enough, he let out a mewl, putting his hand on the back of your head to make you go faster. he cummed in your mouth.. he offered you a tissue to spit it on, thank god because you didn’t wanna swallow up his seed.

cum x2.. and now he was sitting between your thighs, your legs spread out and all. he wondered how many fingers you could take. he put his index finger in your hole, quickly clenching around it. your pussy reacting to him, i mean— he was much better than you masturbating to cringe hentai, you got shivers remembering. he pulled out his finger to replace with his tongue, and it felt extraordinary, you weren’t good at having intercourse at all, he already figured it out. he swirled his tongue around your sensitive nub, it sending electric currents throughout your whole body. you kept letting out groaning, till the point he had to tell you to quiet down ‘’a little bit’’. the moment he put two fingers in and hitting your g-spot.. you knew you were doomed. he was bringing you immense pleasure, till the point that you.. cummed.. well, it felt a lot different.. it felt wetter. the wetness came onto most of his face, and he was shocked, for a moment. ‘’did you.. squirt?’’ before you could apologize, he let out a chuckle.

cum x3...?

well, the story goes like this… when an incubus makes a girl cum 3 times.. he can collect your soul, in old demon fashion. you didn’t even have time to react, you sold your soul for some good ol’ sex, and now god knows what happened to you. a few hours after the halloween party began, your friends knocked on your door, i mean, you had planned to meet up with them. knock.. knock.. knock. but alas, no answer— your body was an empty husk now. all for a little dare!

TRICK OR TREAT DICK?

♡ㅤ˒ㅤ666ㅤwork by @ iknowher ,, do not plagiarize! ..ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘᵏᵘⁿᵃ

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.

Chapter 2

Warnings: swearing, angst

Radar woke from a troubled sleep when her alarm went off at 5pm. She groaned and rolled out of bed, stood and ran through some yoga stretches to get her blood moving. Once she felt more alive she shuffled into the bathroom for a hot shower. By 6pm she was dressed and had her gear ready to go.

She looked in her mirror, took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before heading to the kitchen and the smell of food. Wait, was that.....

"Paprikash!" She exclaimed as she entered the kitchen to see Wanda standing over a large pot.

Wanda turned and grinned "I had to make your favorite, sestra, to welcome you home." She handed Radar a full plate "Here, bread and butter are on the table."

Radar kissed Wanda's cheek "You're my very favoritest witch, Maximoff. Thank you!"

She went to sit at the table and started to eat.

A few minutes later she heard his voice "You made my favorite, Wanda. Thank you."

Bucky came in, grabbed a plate and went to sit down, making a face when he saw Radar there. He sat without a word and started eating.

Radar chatted with Sam when he came in to eat, catching up on life since they last spoke a few months ago.

Sam shook his head "Why haven't you been able to catch up with Sharon yet?"

Radar shrugged "She's smart and knows people. I'm pretty sure she has some high ranking US officials that she's dealing with. CIA, FBI, NSA at least a couple of people in one or more of those agencies. Military too. Maybe the White House.

She's the one who bankrolled Karli Morgantheau and her Flagsmashers. Karli might have cared about the people who were being left behind by capitalism but Sharon and whoever is backing her are only interested in creating chaos. Those people who are suffering were happy to help with that.

I have some strong leads that some of my team are following. I actually have a pretty good idea who's behind Sharon but they are very high up in the pecking order so I can't talk about who or move until we have incontrovertible proof. Whoever it is, knows that I'm catching up with them so I have to watch my back."

Bucky scoffed "Must be a change of pace for you to be concerned with backstabbers since that's your move."

Radar shook her head "Please. If you actually knew the truth you'd really hate yourself, even worse than usual but not to worry, I'm sure you'll never know. That would require some intellectual curiosity instead of blindly trusting a pretty face."

Bucky looked at her, confused "What the fuck are you going on about? What truth?"

Radar got up and put her dishes in the dishwasher "None of your concern, Barnes. Way too late. See you at 9."

Bucky looked at Wanda "What was she talking about? I know that you know."

Wanda shook her head "Sorry Bucky, that's not my story to tell. If you want to know, you'll have to figure out how to get her to trust you enough to tell you. If you even can, which I seriously doubt. Good luck on your mission."

Bucky turned to Sam who was sitting back, smirking, "Of course you know, don't you?"

Sam nodded, still smiling, and wordlessly headed to his room to suit up, then to the hangar.

Bucky put his dishes away and went to the armory to pick up his bag but it was missing. He tore the room apart and when he couldn't find it he stormed to the hangar and onto the waiting quinjet where Radar and Sam were prepping to take off "Where's my kit?"

Sam laughed at Bucky's disheveled state, hair mussed, face red, breathing heavily. That laugh only enraged him "Where's my fucking kit?"

Radar rolled her eyes "Where it belongs, dumbass. I know having a competent assistant is a change of pace for you Barnes but I know my job."

Bucky went to the storage bin in the front of the cabin and pulled out his bag. He went through every pocket, every single hiding place and wasn't surprised to find everything was there. Knives cleaned and sharpened and the bag was loaded with plenty of extra ammo. He scoffed, angry that he had nothing to be angry about and no excuse bitch about her.

Bucky looked at her and Sam, both with a mischievous gleam in their eyes, before stomping to the furthest seat from the pilot and sat heavily. He strapped himself in and crossed his arms, looking anywhere but at the pair laughing at him.

He was relieved when they finally calmed down and turned their attention to taking off and setting their course in.

Radar flew the jet for the entire 6 hour flight, softly chatting with Sam for most of the trip.

Bucky stayed in his seat, arms still crossed, jaw clenched and staring at the opposite wall in a concerted attempt to avoid looking at her. His mind racing to understand what she meant by her cryptic words and growing more and more angry that she was keeping some big secret from him. Something she should have told him before now.

By the time they landed and loaded up the SUV that was waiting for them at their destination, Bucky was ready to explode and fighting to hold it back. He wouldn't start a fight as they headed into a mission but he was damn sure determined to find out what everyone else seemed to already know.

While Radar waited in the quinjet for Bucky and Sam to reach the base, she set up her surveillance gear, connected to Starks satellite and found them and synchronized them with the GPS.

Then she tapped on her key "Captain. Sargent. You have coms? Anyone?" She sighed and fiddled with her laptop "Cap? Sarge? Can you hear me now? Bueller?"

Sam laughed in her ear, making Radar smile "I hear you Angel"

Bucky scoffed "She's not your Angel, Tweety. She's mine." Hearing Radars voice in his ear gave Bucky a chill and a flash of a memory of being tangled together naked, her whispering sweet and dirty nothing's into his ear. He tried to shake it off.

Sam laughed "I'm sorry Terminator. I didn't realize you wanted her all to yourself but you're gonna have to share for now. I'll give her back good as new."

Bucky sputtered "Dammit Wilson you know that's-"

Radar interrupted him "Shush! Someone's up ahead. 2 bodies in front of the door you're headed to, then another 4 people 15 yards down the hall to the left."

She worked on her laptop "Door's unlocked and the alarm is off."

As Radar guided them through the building, the lack of resistance concerned her. She moved the satellite around and gasped when she saw a nest of heat signatures on the other side of the next door in their path "fuckfuckfuck" she tried not to panic "STOP! There's a whole platoon in the next room. Get the fuck out of there. I'll get the jet re-"

Sam and Bucky looked at each other and turned to sprint, both trying to connect with her.

"Radar, come on babygirl we need your help finding our way out of here." Sam pleaded.

Bucky felt his heart drop when she didn't respond at all "RADAR! Dammit doll, answer me please. You have to be ok honey, please!" He begged.

Sam was falling behind him, unable to keep up with the super soldier. Bucky turned to see a group of men behind them and gaining. He fired a slew of shots in their direction then picked Sam up in a firemans carry and ran down the hall with Sam shooting behind his back.

They barely made it to the doors they originally came in through, Sam held them shut while Bucky used his vibranium hand to rip the control panel out of the wall so it wouldn't open without an rpg or a couple of pounds of plastique.

Bucky looked to Sam who nodded his ok before Bucky bolted to the quinjet, Sam jogging slowly behind him.

Bucky raced up to the jet, frowning because the cloak wasn't up so it was easy to see but he stopped cold a few yards back, when he realized the ramp was up as well.

Something was wrong. Radar was good with weapons but her hand to hand skills were greatly diminished by a back injury during a mission when she was with the CIA. That's how she ended up taken out of field work and became his Angel.

Bucky was sure she had her own weapons but if not there were plenty stocked and some hidden aboard the quinjet.

He stood behind a tree, texting Friday and watching the jet for any signs of activity, until Sam caught up. Bucky held his hand up and Sam stopped next to him. They had a heated, whisper discussion about what to do next.

According to Friday, Radar was still in the jet with one other person, who was standing too close to her for Bucky's comfort. She was showing signs of distress with elevated heart rate and blood pressure.

Bucky knew something had to be done so he asked Friday to lower the ramp. When it was halfway down, a mans voice yelled from inside. "I've got your little friend Soldat. Don't come after me or I'll have to hurt her." The man laughed "Well, if I'm being honest I am gonna hurt her irregardless but I'll probably have to kill her if you get too close."

Radar screamed in pain as the man twisted her to face the ramp "Now stop, I barely touched you. Your girl seems pretty sensitive."

"She's not my girl!" Bucky yelled and Sam scowled at him

"Is that really necessary Barnes? Just figure out how to get him away from her."

The man laughed "Sure she isn't Soldat. Just let us go and I'll drop her off somewhere safe."

Bucky was ready to kill the owner of that voice but knew that would get Radar hurt so tried to negotiate. "Fine, I put my gun down. Come on out."

Bucky clenched his jaw when he saw the man holding Radar's arms behind her back while he held a knife at her throat. Once they were at the bottom of the ramp, Bucky threw one of his knives, scraping Radar's ear and landing between the mans eyes.

Radar looked at him with wide eyes after she saw the blood on her hand from where it had touched her ear "Are you fucking crazy Barnes? You could have killed or seriously hurt me. Look at this shit, you cut my ear. I know you hate me but this is not ok. You know, I should-"

Bucky interrupted her rant by grabbing her face with both hands and looking her over very carefully for any injuries besides her ear. When he found nothing his hands pulled away like she burned him

"You're fine, it's barely a scratch. Wheels up in 5, there might be more of them coming."

Then he strode into the jet and started preparing to take off.

Radar turned and watched him walk away, her mouth open, before shaking herself off and looking to Sam as he came up the ramp. He shrugged, grabbed a first aid kit and sat, pulling her down with him so he could check her ear.

Sam cleaned the scratch and put a bandaid on it. "Just a nick, you'll live." He smiled at her. "Did you hear what he said when you didn't reply?"

Radar shook her head "No. That guy took my headset first. Why? What did he say?"

Sam shook his head "You two need to talk. I'm not gonna get in the middle of this mess."

The jet was in the air, destination set and Bucky sighed when he heard Sam say that. He had panicked for a minute but didn't want to reopen that wound. Whatever Radar's truth was, it didn't matter.

Like she said it was too late.

@unaxv @calwitch @buckitostan

Chapter 3

[bugsbenefit]

closest to canon Hawkins we can get

this is the map used in s2 and shows up in the canon show as well as in World's Turned Upside Down (also used as the base for most official artwork of Hawkins). as of now it's the most accurate map we have

there have been a few other maps on the show but those deviate a lot from what's seen in canon (like Bob's map showing a river near the town center that isn't really there). the only inconsistency with This map is that the County Coroner is a bit further south than in canon and that some locations that are referred to as "streets" in the show are marked as "roads" or "avenues" here. those are all minor changes though so as far as canon goes. this is the best map we've got

blue - bodies of water, white - buildings, green - residences, gray - streets, yellowish - speculative/not listed on the map but implied through the actual show

also, to explain further, i didn't make these locations up. all buildings in white and streets are already marked on the map, most of them are extremely hard to read and i just put more legible text on top. the Wheelers, Sinclairs, and Mayfields houses aren't listed but are easy to locate since their street names are on the map. only the yellow squares aren't explicitly confirmed on the map and are technically speculative since i added them based on canon information

(explanation of the reasoning for those placements under the cut for anyone that's interested. bc, personally, i hate seeing maps online that make plainly wrong claims without even trying to explain how they got there)

just starting off, almost every version of this map places the Wheeler and Sinclair home further north than me which is canonically false. those maps use a wrong scale. Lucas and Mike are almost next door neighbors (there is only One house number between theirs, but that house could also be located across the road from them, making them actual next door neighbors). also, Maple Street starts further south than a lot of people using this map seem to acknowledge. the actual order of the two houses is up for debate and could easily be switched though

Melvad's is technically also speculative since it isn't listed on the map (only the cinema and police station are). but looking at the town square in the show and the irl location of the stores you can pinpoint it's position

"Weathertop", the highest area in Hawkins, which is where Cerebro is located in s3. since the town is shown to be behind Starcourt when positioned on Wheatertop, the hill has to be located behind the mall

Hopper's trailer is shown to be next to a lake and only features in s1, the shape of the lake matches Lake Tippecanoe the closest but i'm not dead set on this

Benny's Burgers is canonically on Randolph Lane, the map doesn't feature this road but has a Randolph Way instead. it might be an entirely different road, or Randolph lane could be an unmarked offshoot of the marked Randolph Way. however, since Randolph Way leads out of Hawkins into a forested area near HNL and the forest the party looked for Will in, the general location of the road is probably a good guess for it's location

Mrs Driscoll's home is somewhere on Cornwallis Street. we don't know where on the street, but it's there somewhere. (the same also goes for the motel Billy and Karen wanted to meet up at, but since we never even saw the location i didn't mark it on the map)

the Brimborn Steelworks are on Cherry Oak Drive, accessible when driving down Cornwallis. the street Cherry Oak Drive also doesn't exist on the map. however, a street called Cherry Avenue conveniently directly connects to Cornwallis so i'm inclined to believe that's where the Steelwork is located (Cherry Oak Drive could also be an offshoot of Cherry Avenue or it could just be an inconsistency sploof)

the Byers home is marked twice on the map since it could be located on either road leading away from Mirkwood (Kerley or Cornwallis)

Skull rock and Reefer Rick's Cabin are both located at Lovers Lake but since we don't know their exact locations they're technically speculative

Garrot Street is only implied by canon and it's probably the loosest connection on here. Skull Rock is noted to be near "Cornwallis and Garrot". there is only two major/big roads noted near lovers lake, one of them is Cornwallis, the other one would then most likely be Garrot (also made likelier by the fact that the actual name of the road is completely illegible on the map and could be anything)

also note. the Eno River is also on this map, but i had to crop it a bit to fit a reasonable scale. it would be in the far northwest of the map (the south-most tip of it is still visible)

locations that become relevant later on and aren't marked on the map, that also aren't locatable through additional canon information would be things like Max's old home, the Roane Hill Cemetery, the Creel House on Morehead, and Pennhurst (even though we don't know if Pennhurst is actually in the Hawkins map are). also things like the community pool in s3 or town hall in s4 don't show up either

[neechees]

Why do you think it's out of the realm of possibility that people scam using gaza? Anyone can say they're vetted. I can go to my neighbor's house and say that he verified i have a huge cock but that doesn't make my cook huge. I may have never even talked to my neighbor. Maybe my neighbor is made up. Maybe I'm a woman and have no cock. Etc.

You can understand why people are careful with where they send their money, especially when there's not a lot of money to go around. I think everyone should be grateful that any money is sent, at all! I'm broke, too!

I've sent money to specific people in gaza but I'm not stupid enough to be guilted into thinking all these gaza blogs are in good faith. Stop guilting mentally weak and empathetic people into potentially getting their information stolen over payment networks. Shame on you.

I find your wording interesting accusing me of "guilting" the "mentally weak" (weird choice of words but whatever) because I myself havent ever really made posts trying to guilt people into doing anything, all I've ever said is that I think, based on my experience as a scam buster and scam investigator, and based on given evidence, I personally don't think most Palestinian fundraisers are scams, and that people should be cautious of who they accuse of scamming (not even just for Palestinian fundraisers but like.... anyone). I also didn't say it's "out of the realm of possibility for people to scam using Gaza", I've said I think that the cases where this is happening is not as much as people think, and most of the Palestinian fundraisers are genuine, you're twisting my words and misinterpreting me.

As a scam buster I ONLY accuse people of scamming who i have PROOF are scamming and list all my evidence. The closest I've come to "guilting" people is pointing out that White users on tumblr are racist, and empathize with animals more than nonwhite humans, which is 100% true. I've seen tumblr users accuse random users on color on here for being "scammers" despite all evidence to the contrary. A follower of mine even talked about how they've been fundraising for months and still haven't met their goal, but when they asked for mutual aid for their ill cat, they got the money within days. It is not a stretch to say that a predominantly White website is racist lol.

I know anyone can say they're vetted, either you're new here and just came to my inbox to complain, or you've been ignoring my posts. On posts where I call out scams pretending to be Palestinian, I point out that a common tactic scammers will use is that they will lie & say "vetted by x!" Or "verified!", but of course they aren't, dont provide proof they are, and sometimes dont say who vetted them. They do this hoping nobody will double check their notes for verbal confirmation from anyone who is an official vetter and just reblog their post, and some people do. I personally only reblog fundraisers who I have seen have been verbally vetted and confirmed to be genuine by other Palestinian users on here who have been on tumblr for years and are not currently in Gaza. I've continuously warned people to DOUBLE CHECK blogs asking them for money to see if they are vetted.

The (few) scams that are claiming to be Palestinian are not actually Palestinian, and are not in Palestine. We know this, because we know the location of several of these scammers, some of which are from the Philippines (Laura Deramas & her clown crew & ivysour) and the other is from Kenya, which we managed to find out by someone who found the ip address of that scammer. But we ALSO know that there's no actual Palestinians who are scamming because if they are currently in Gaza then why in the WORLD would they be focusing on getting money & scamming for frivolous shit instead of getting out of Gaza? It makes zero sense. Priorities.

We also have the vetting process up set up by real Palestinians who vet by, again, 1. Asking for Palestinian I.D cards from these blogs, which they would know which are real are what is faked, 2. They literally personally know some of these people that are fundraising, or know people who know them, and ask questions that only THEY would know. (This is similarly how I found out info about the Native scammer Julian Charger, because people know each other and talk) 3. Palestinian users who speak Arabic will speak Arabic to the people behind these fundraisers and confirm identities and proof in a Language they understand the most 4. They ask for current photos from these users. One fundraiser we know who gives food to Gazans via donations also will write tumblr urls and write thanks to tumblr on cards in order for us to know that they are in Gaza, and that our money is going to where they say it is 5. Several families HAVE managed to evacuate thanks to tumblr fundraisers, and they update us after their evacuation, like Ahmed. 6. The sheer number of genuine fundraisers is too much for even a group of people to handle and pretend to be scamming for: all these blogs have their own names, family lines, I.d cards, stories of their trauma, what camps they are stating at, who regularly speak with several people to update them, etc and we'd find gaps in their stories if they were lying. We can often suss out scammers because they either A) impersonate real Palestinians and steal their photos, which we then find and can tell who posted it first and is the real person, and B) they continuously use the exact same story or photos & paypal names or variations thereof over and over again, and this is how we know it's them (see: the Kenyan insulin scammer)

But this kind of reminds me of how people will say "don't give money to homeless people on the street because you don't know if they're using it for drugs". No one's forcing you to do anything, but with mutual aid, it is inherently a system in which you acknowledge you don't 100% know what your money will be used for, but it's meant to be that youre doing it because you want to help.

I can't force people to do anything, reblogging fundraising posts, or donating, or not, is entirely your perogative. I've always said that. On multiple of my scam busting posts I've even clarified that I can't force you to believe or not believe my evidence of someone being a scammer. Give them money or don't, believe me or don't, I can't force you to do anything, I'm just presenting evidence and my opinion based on that evidence.

I do not feel ashamed, and if you feel bad and guilty about be saying that I don't think that most of these are scams than that is your problem, not mine.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to thoughtfully respond to these anon messages. I work in dc w a fairly wonky set and i cant overstate how haunted the DC Professional Thought Havers are by the spectre of the "low propensity voter." I think these ppl (myself included LOL) thought we had everything figured out ahead of the 2016 elections and then never recovered from the way it ended up going......i feel like in all the years that followed.....the liberal bubbles.....the coastal elites.......the hillbilly elegies......the real america....the ohio diners....the pennsylvania diners.......the polls......the 2020 horserace....while part of an earnest attempt to understand What Happened, were primarily self-indulgent, self-flagellation for being "out of touch" bc of a self-diagnosed "elite" status that then turned into ANOTHER myopic view of the world, just opposite, where the "libs" are hapless and everyone else remotely to the left are primarily victims to the unstoppable supernatural forces of the Right. Then in 2020 the narrative flipped AGAIN and once again, instead of taking the opportunity to expand a worldview and having the bravery to confront their own shortcomings, the opinion havers and wonks and beltway pressers have decided to groupthink their way into writing off democracy altogether. Its BEYOND frustrating to see! Like damn volunteer at a soup kitchen or smthn instead of being obsessed w the fact that i vote lol

Yes, and there are several reasons for that. First, despite all the factors that contributed to Trump's shock win in 2016 (anti-Clintonism, white backlash to Obama, general low voter enthusiasm, Russian disinformation, etc) we should never forget that until James Comey decided to announce 10 days before the election that he was reopening the EEEEEEEMAILS case, even though we all knew there was nothing there, she was leading fairly comfortably in the polls. And while we will never know how the 2016 election would have gone without that, which imho was one of the most unforgivable acts of blatant sabotage by a public official in American history, it's also true that we saw her poll averages start sliding almost in real time, as people who hadn't really been keen on voting for her anyway decided firmly not to and Trump was able to scrape out 16,000 votes across PA, MI, and WI to take the Electoral College. Which... we all remember how we felt that night, right? (Or in my case, early morning, since I was overseas?) We don't, we really, really don't want to feel that way again. Just saying.

As such, the media (which had already beat up Clinton nonstop during the BUT HER EEEEEMAILS saga) drastically overcorrected and as you say, began writing endless angsty handwringing pieces about Trump Voters in Rural Ohio Diners and giving endless sympathetic airtime to how "economically left behind" they felt, regardless of the fact that open racism, especially Obama backlash, was and remains the principal animating feature of Republican politics (since their only economic platform is that which makes very rich people even richer and Democratic economic policies are the only ones actually targeted at helping ordinary people). The hangover was so strong that even when Democrats had a massive 2018 midterm result and flipped the House blue for the first time since the post-ACA backlash lost it in 2010, the Conventional Wisdom was now beyond any doubt that Democrats were doomed for a generation or something, and not that Trump had squeaked out a fluky win (while losing the popular vote) due to endless Russian/Comey/third party-etc interference and wasn't actually that powerful. Even in 2020 when Biden was leading fairly steadily and things were going to hell with Covid, etc. etc. TRUMP IS UNSTOPPABLE, TRUMP IS GOING TO WIN.

(And now. Like. I know Trump thinks Trump won in 2020, as do a large majority of his cultists, but that doesn't mean he did.)

Even after that, when Roe went down in 2022, that made no difference to the RED WAVE COMING!!! narrative, and the amount of smug white male pundits insisting that abortion just wasn't very important and people weren't going to base their entire vote on it reached truly disgusting levels. We're now seeing the same thing with the constant "people won't vote for democracy and/or abortion rights" blast, when as you say, this narrative has just been completely made the fuck up by a lot of groupthinking DC media who are determined that this time, Trump really is going to win and then they get to be principled chroniclers in opposition or something. Not to mention, the basic principle of "democracy and abortion rights are good" do in fact win by thumping margins every time they're on the ballot, including in deep red states. But there is literally not a single piece of empirical evidence despite the massive amounts of it supporting the truth (i.e. that Democrats are doing historically well in competitive elections since 2018 and there's not really a major reason to think this will change in 2024) that will get the media to change the "Democrats in disarray and Biden Iz Doomed" horserace BS they so love. They don't like Biden because he's boring and competent and just does the job without being insane, because it's totally a great idea to treat American government like a reality show! (Recall the infamous comment by the CBS CEO who literally said that Trump was bad for America but great for CBS, because he pulled in high ratings and therefore lots of money and visibility for CBS. We live in the worst timeline.)

As such, the mainstream media has a vendetta against Biden, is determined that this time Trump is super definitely going to win and everyone will see how genius they are, and not-so-secretly wants Trump back because a) he's good for money and ratings, and b) because the media conglomerations are owned by oligarchs who have a vested interest in making sure that Democrats and their policies never get too popular. Notice how the once self-proclaimed centrist independent Elon Musk has turned into a rabidly alt-right fanboy ever since the Democrats really got serious about taxing billionaires as a key part of their platform. Likewise, insisting that Biden Iz Doomed makes Democrats nervous (and thus more likely to tune in) and Republicans gleeful (and thus more likely to tune in), so there's literally no incentive for the media to even try to report things accurately. You could create a very different narrative of the 2024 election if you just remotely bothered to write about things that have actually happened as they have actually taken place, rather than bending over backward to insist that Biden being four years older than Trump is a worse crime than 91 felony indictments, 2 impeachments, 1 insurrection, 450 million dollars and counting in punitive jury verdicts, more major criminal trials coming down the pipe, and just demonstrably being the worst human being alive in so many ways. I mean. Wow.

The good news, as I said in my other post, is that when people actually vote, these utter bullshit narratives get routinely blown out of the water, and that's a good thing. Because it turns out that unlike Super Smart Beltway Pundits' Super Smart Predictions, the average American does actually like democracy and freedom for women to make their own personal healthcare decisions, and they vote accordingly. So while yes, it's being made harrowingly much harder than it needs to be because of how much the media simply refuses to report that basic fact, and there is no amount of evidence that will convince them otherwise, at least we're trending in the right direction and, if we all pull our weight, can do it one more time. I realized the other day that I hadn't heard a fucking peep about Ron DeSantis in the last two months, and oh, how glorious it was. I yearn beyond words for the day (God willing, soon) when the same is true of Trump as well.